COVID-19 pandemic in Minnesota
Based on Wikipedia: COVID-19 pandemic in Minnesota
On March 6, 2020, Minnesota confirmed its first case of COVID-19. The patient was an older adult from Ramsey County who had recently taken a cruise on the Grand Princess, a ship that would become infamous as an early superspreader event. They started feeling sick on February 25, went to the doctor on March 5, and headed home to recover in isolation. Governor Tim Walz struck an optimistic tone: "I'm confident that Minnesota is prepared for this."
That confidence would be tested within days.
The Calm Before the Storm
Minnesota had been watching and waiting since January 20, when the state's Department of Health began testing for the novel coronavirus. For weeks, every test came back negative. Health officials monitored potential cases and drew up containment plans, hoping they'd never need them. Mayo Clinic in Rochester started fast-tracking test development in mid-February, a prescient move that would prove crucial.
The second case arrived on March 7: a patient in their fifties from Carver County who'd traveled to Europe in February and developed symptoms on March 2. They sought care, tested positive, and went home to isolate.
Then came case three, and the tone shifted. This patient was in their thirties, hospitalized in critical condition at an Anoka County facility, with no obvious underlying health conditions. They'd developed symptoms on February 28 after contact with international travelers. Here's where things get troubling: they were evaluated on March 3 and sent home without being tested. The Minnesota Department of Health later called this decision "appropriate." When they returned on March 9, much sicker, they were finally tested and hospitalized.
Even then, health officials insisted there was no evidence of person-to-person transmission within Minnesota. That claim wouldn't hold for long.
The Dominos Fall
March 11 brought a flurry of activity. Governor Walz signed a bill allocating $20.8 million for outbreak response, on top of $4.6 million already earmarked for public health—over $25 million total. Two more cases were confirmed: a patient in their fifties in Olmsted County, diagnosed at Mayo Clinic, and someone in their thirties from Ramsey County.
The University of Minnesota made a decisive move that same day, suspending classes across all five campuses. Spring break would be extended to two weeks, ending March 18, when online instruction would begin. It was supposed to last until at least April 1. Residence halls and dining services would stay open. Students and faculty assumed this was temporary. It wasn't.
Mayo Clinic launched drive-through testing, though patients still needed telephone screening approval first. This was the era of test scarcity, when getting swabbed required jumping through bureaucratic hoops.
By March 12, Minnesota had nine confirmed cases, all travel-related. The new infections were spread across Hennepin, Dakota, and Stearns counties. Non-critical patients recovered at home in isolation. Remarkably, the state's health department still didn't recommend closing schools.
March 13 changed everything. Governor Walz declared a peacetime state of emergency. "We are going into a heightened state of readiness to protect Minnesotans," he announced. The case count hit fourteen, spread across Hennepin, Ramsey, Anoka, Dakota, Carver, and Wright counties. Over 550 people had been tested statewide—a number that sounds quaint now but represented a significant effort at the time.
Community Spread
By March 14, the state confirmed 21 cases. All seven new patients had been in contact with confirmed cases. Everyone was recovering at home in self-isolation. Eight hundred sixty-eight tests had been conducted.
March 15 brought 35 total cases across Hennepin, Ramsey, Dakota, Olmsted, Waseca, and Washington counties. And here's the watershed moment: the Minnesota Department of Health reported that three of the new cases were community transmission. The virus was spreading person-to-person within Minnesota, no longer contained to travelers and their immediate contacts.
The next day, March 16, Governor Walz announced the temporary closure of all Minnesota kindergarten through twelfth grade public schools from March 18 until March 27. "My top priority as Governor is the safety of Minnesotans," he said. "As a former teacher, and father of two teenage kids, I'm especially focused on the safety of our children." Schools would provide meals and mental health services to students in need. Elementary-aged children of healthcare workers and other emergency workers could still attend. Teachers would use the time to plan for potentially weeks of distance learning.
The Minnesota Legislature began scaling back operations, meeting on an on-call basis. Future sessions would be held in locations allowing six feet between representatives—an early nod to what would become known as social distancing.
Shutdown
March 17 brought the hammer down. Governor Walz issued Executive Order 20-04, ordering all non-essential businesses to close until March 27, citing the first confirmed case of community spread. The economy was about to freeze.
Then came a gut punch: on March 19, the Minnesota Department of Health announced that due to a national shortage of testing materials, the state would have to ration tests, focusing only on the highest priority specimens, including hospitalized patients. Just when Minnesota needed to ramp up testing, it was forced to pull back.
March 21 brought Minnesota's first death: a patient in their eighties from Ramsey County who'd contracted the virus from a confirmed case. Lieutenant Governor Peggy Flanagan shared that her brother had also died from coronavirus in Nashville, Tennessee. The pandemic was no longer an abstraction.
The Response Escalates
That same day, Governor Walz made several announcements. A small business loan program would make loans of $2,500 to $35,000 available to possibly 5,000 businesses. All elective veterinary surgeries would be halted to preserve supplies. The budget for virus response would be revised upward by an additional $365 million.
By March 25, the state had 287 confirmed cases, 26 requiring hospitalization. Officials estimated the actual number was likely at least ten times higher—community spread was accelerating, invisible beneath the surface of limited testing.
Stay at Home
March 25 also brought Governor Walz's most sweeping order yet: Executive Order 20-20, directing all Minnesota residents to shelter in place from March 27 at 11:59 PM through April 10 at 5:00 PM. He also signed orders 20-18 and 20-19. Order 20-18 extended the closure of non-essential businesses, originally set to end March 27, until May 1. Order 20-19 extended school closures and mandated a "Distance Learning Period" from March 30 until May 4.
Minnesota, like much of America, had entered lockdown.
On April 8, Walz extended the stay-at-home order until May 3 at 11:59 PM, citing new data and discoveries about COVID-19. He allowed hardware and garden shops to reopen if they followed Minnesota Department of Health guidelines—a small concession as spring arrived and people itched to get outside.
LIBERATE MINNESOTA
April 17 brought a bizarre political moment. In the early hours, President Donald Trump tweeted "LIBERATE MINNESOTA" in reference to Governor Walz's stay-at-home order. That afternoon, several hundred citizens protested in front of the governor's residence in Saint Paul.
The protest was organized largely via Facebook by the Minnesota Gun Rights Caucus. Ben Dorr, a leading member of the advocacy group, had repeatedly called for the state to reopen, claiming that COVID-19 posed no greater threat than the flu. Dorr and his two older brothers, also gun-rights advocates, used their collective social media presence to call for additional protests.
Later that day, during his regular press conference, Governor Walz announced new allowances: people could engage in outdoor activities like hiking, fishing, hunting, and motorboating, as long as they maintained safe distances from others. Golf courses and bait shops could open. Walz stated these plans were conceptualized before the president's tweet and the civilian protest—a claim that underscored the awkward politics of the moment.
The Long Haul
April 30 brought another extension: the stay-at-home order would continue until Sunday, May 17 at 11:59 PM. Walz urged patience. "Staying home is the most powerful weapon to defeat the virus," he said. "We must run the full marathon and not stop at mile 20." He required certain personnel to wear face masks and strongly urged the general public to do the same.
In late May, the Minnesota State Fair was canceled—a devastating blow to Minnesota culture. The Great Minnesota Get-Together, an annual tradition dating back to 1859, would go dark for the first time since World War Two.
Stay Safe Minnesota
On May 18, the stay-at-home order expired and was replaced with a "stay safe Minnesota" order. This occurred as new cases and hospitalizations were both increasing. Walz described it as a "measured Minnesota approach," clarifying that "we're not flipping a switch and everything's going back to normal at once. We're slowly moving the dial and introducing more interaction between people over time." Bars, restaurants, gyms, and salons remained closed.
May 23 set a grim single-day record: 982 positive tests.
George Floyd and the Protests
Two days later, on May 25, George Floyd was murdered by Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin. Protesters gathered in massive groups for vigils, marches, and demonstrations, first in Minneapolis and Saint Paul, then throughout the state.
Most protesters wore masks. People generally maintained social distancing through brief interactions and by staying outdoors. Health experts warned the protests could trigger a surge in COVID-19 cases, but testing showed few protesters contracted the disease.
What did draw criticism was the use of tear gas and pepper spray by the Minneapolis Police Department and the Minnesota National Guard. Critics argued these crowd-control measures created conditions where the virus could spread more easily by exacerbating respiratory infections, increasing exposure rates, and compromising immune systems.
Governor Walz extended the emergency order through July 13, then again through August 12. Minnesota was settling into a new normal—or rather, a state of perpetual emergency.
Summer Clusters
June and July brought workplace and social gathering clusters. At least 88 of approximately 1,000 workers at an Amazon warehouse in Shakopee tested positive. An additional 99 positive cases were reported at other Amazon sites in the Twin Cities.
Over 100 cases emerged among people in their twenties who patronized crowded bars in the Mankato area during the first weekend indoor service was permitted. A cluster of 30 cases was reported at two Minneapolis bars.
Minnesota experienced a significant increase in positive cases from late June into July, consistent with nationwide trends. However, in mid-July, new deaths and hospitalizations were still decreasing. The surge was largely driven by the 20-to-29 age group and by communities in the Twin Cities suburbs—young people gathering indoors as restrictions eased.
Youngest Fatality
July 29 brought heartbreaking news: the state's youngest fatality. A nine-month-old baby from Clay County died with no underlying health conditions. The virus, we were learning, could kill anyone.
In August, a Seneca Foods packing facility in Glencoe had 33 confirmed and 12 suspected cases. Although about 200 workers had been tested on arrival, results were delayed by more than ten days—a window in which the virus spread unchecked.
Sturgis
Mid-August brought a new threat from outside Minnesota's borders: the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. Held annually in Sturgis, South Dakota, the 2020 rally proceeded despite the pandemic, drawing hundreds of thousands of bikers from across the country.
By August 19, Minnesota had 15 cases traced to Sturgis, with more expected. Public health notices were issued for rally locations including One-Eyed Jack's Saloon, The Knuckle Saloon, The Broken Spoke, and Asylum Tattoo in Sturgis, plus the Bumpin' Buffalo Bar and Grill in Hill City. Some cases among Minnesota rallygoers couldn't be traced to specific locations.
A Minnesota public health official urged anyone who traveled to Sturgis to monitor for symptoms for 14 days. "If you are feeling ill after returning from the event, please get tested and self-isolate while you wait for the test results."
By August 24, the state had 27 cases traced to Sturgis: 25 among attendees, two among employees or volunteers. By August 27, that number rose to 46 Minnesota infections linked directly to the rally, with secondary transmission and positive cases among contacts of Sturgis attendees.
By September 2, cases traced to Sturgis attendees reached 49.
Social Gatherings Drive Spread
Between June 12 and August 21, 29 restaurants in Minnesota had outbreaks. The two largest clusters were in Mankato and Saint Cloud, with 118 and 117 cases respectively. A cluster was linked to a wedding in Ghent.
In August alone, at least 21 clusters were associated with parties, weddings, funerals, and other social gatherings. During the week ending August 27, cases were traced to 29 Minnesota bars and restaurants. One or more cases were reported in 51 Minnesota colleges and universities as students returned to campus.
Minnesota Department of Health Commissioner Jan Malcolm noted that cases had "plateaued at a high level, and now we're starting to inch back up again. We have not improved." Over one weekend, there were 1,032 new cases on Saturday and 934 on Sunday—"also one of the highest days yet."
The Plateau
By early September, cases remained stubbornly high. On September 3, 502 new cases were announced. Rural LeSueur County had over 15 percent case positivity. Health officials shifted their concern from urban bars and youth sporting events to "a routine sort of abandonment of health guidance at everyday informal social gatherings."
People were tired. After six months of restrictions, distancing, and masks, Minnesotans were gathering again—at weddings, funerals, backyard barbecues, and bars. Each gathering became a potential cluster. Each cluster fed the plateau of cases that refused to decline.
The marathon Governor Walz had warned about in April was still going. Minnesota had learned to live with the virus, but the virus wasn't done with Minnesota.
The Vaccine Era
As 2020 turned to 2021, vaccines offered hope. By May 28, 2021, Minnesota had administered 5,360,493 COVID-19 vaccine doses and fully vaccinated 2,329,984 people—41.88 percent of the population.
On May 6, 2021, Governor Walz announced that COVID-19 restrictions would end on May 28 and the mask mandate would be lifted July 1. But eight days later, on Friday, May 14, Walz signed an executive order lifting the mask mandate early.
After 14 months of emergency orders, lockdowns, and restrictions, Minnesota was reopening. The pandemic wasn't over—variants would come, cases would surge again—but the acute crisis phase had passed. Minnesota had survived, though not without scars: thousands dead, businesses shuttered, students who'd lost more than a year of in-person education, healthcare workers traumatized by what they'd witnessed.
The confident optimism of March 6, 2020—"I'm confident that Minnesota is prepared for this"—had been tested and found wanting. Minnesota hadn't been prepared, not really. No one had been. But the state had adapted, endured, and emerged into an uncertain new chapter of living with COVID-19.