A final goodbye to Marcia Wellstone Markuson
Rosalind Bentley
Star Tribune

Published Oct. 31, 2002 MARK31

Perhaps the most sobering thing Wednesday about the last of the Wellstone memorials was the youth of many of the mourners. Teenagers and 20-and 30-somethings.

Their smooth, rosy faces suggested that decades of life lie ahead of them. Just as they had for Marcia Allison Wellstone Markuson.

As the mourners entered the sanctuary of Mount Olivet Lutheran Church in south Minneapolis, their eyes were drawn to a photo of a smiling Markuson placed at the base of the pulpit. It sat beneath a tremendous bouquet of tropical flowers in full bloom, as she was at age 33.

Five days after the plane crash that killed Markuson; her parents, Paul and Sheila Wellstone, and five others, family members and friends said their final farewells.

As the service began, the processional was led by Markuson's husband, Todd; her 7-year-old son, Joshua; three stepchildren; brothers Mark and David Wellstone, and other family members, friends and Wellstone supporters. Several of them bore flowers, which they laid against the photo of Markuson.

"I wish I could give you a solid answer to the 'why,' " the Rev. Kurt Kalland said in the eulogy. "I tried, but I can't. I can't explain why planes crash in the middle of nowhere and people die.

"I can tell you that I don't think this is the way God intended it to be."

During the service, Mark and David Wellstone spoke of their love for their sister. They talked about her can-do spirit, remembering how they watched her cross-country track competitions in school and how she never gave up.

A friend read from notes Marcia had sent her when they were in the seventh and eighth grades. Each note spoke of a teenager who placed great faith in her friends and who encouraged them in their endeavors.

" 'Roses are red, violets are blue; I will never not be friends with you,' " read one poem contained in the childhood notes.

Sobs echoed through the packed church.

But Kalland tried to comfort the mourners, saying: "We know we can no longer hold her hand, but we know her hand is forever held by a love that will never die."