7 things you don’t know about the Minnesota governor’s residence but should

With all of the attention that Minnesota is getting, it’s a pity that Gov. Tim Walz and his family are currently living in Eastcliff, the University of Minnesota’s presidential house, not the official governor’s mansion.

You can’t blame them. The governor’s mansion is under repair.

But now that the national spotlight is on our state, it might be time to brush up on what we know about 1006 Summit Av. in St. Paul. Here are some things you should know:

1. It’s not, in fact, called a mansion.

That term gets tossed around whenever a governor lives in a slightly large or lavish house. In fact, 35 states call their gubernatorial digs a “mansion.” We call ours a “residence,” which sounds so much humbler. Our neighbor to the east, Wisconsin, uses the term mansion, even though theirs is roughly the same size (16,000 square feet) as ours. Just saying.

2. It has a secret tunnel.

Well, OK, it’s not that secret, because we all know about it now. But there is a passageway that connects the main building to the carriage house. Bonus fact: The carriage house had a large turntable on the floor, so residence residents could drive a car in, turn it around, and drive it out without backing up.

3. One Minnesota governor refused to live there.

When Rudy Perpich ran for governor in 1982, he vowed he wouldn’t move back to the residence. “It doesn’t really feel like a home,” he said. “It’s too big.”

His wife, Lola, complained that the house was so shabby that she had to hide chairs when company came over, because the stuffing was popping out of the cushions. (Others noted that it also had boring beige carpet and that the deep-hued woodwork had been bleached.)

After Perpich won, they moved into the residence, after all. In 1983, Lola started fundraising to renovate the 1912, 20-room house. The renovation restored some of its former charm, but the Perpiches never came around. In 1989, they asked the Legislature to sell the residence and everything in it.

The Legislature, wisely, declined.

4. It hosted usual — and unusual — guests.

Over the years, official fetes showed the usual politicians and ambassadors on the guest list, but the list also included actors Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon, whose “Grumpy Old Men” movies were filmed in Minnesota. One particularly notable guest was Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev in June 1990.

One of the last guests before the renovation was Eric Braedon, an actor known mostly for his 44-years-and-counting role on “The Young and the Restless.” He also appeared in one episode of “The Mary Tyler Moore Show,” in which he played an abrasive, egotistical critic who slagged the locals for being uncultured dolts. Perhaps he went to the mansion to apologize.

5. It boasted the latest technology when it was built.

Back in the early 1900s, the latest tech included a central vacuum cleaning system, a home elevator and an intercom system, which allowed the residents to call other rooms, ring the carriage house and make phone calls. (Remember, telephones weren’t yet common in most homes.)

6. It started out as a private home.

The seven-bedroom, 10-bathroom Tudor was commissioned in 1910 by lumber magnate Horace Hill Irvine. His family held onto the house until 1965, when his daughters donated it to the state. Gov. Karl and First Lady Florence Rolvaag were the first to occupy the official governor’s residence.

7. Its architect wasn’t all that famous.

The architect, William Channing Whitney, isn’t a household name, unless he designed your household. And he did design many grand residences in the Twin Cities. The work that he’s likely most known for was the Minnesota Building for the 1893 Columbian Exposition in Chicago. That building had a special attraction: a plaster statue of “Hiawatha and Minnehaha,” which would later be cast in bronze and take up permanent residence near Minnehaha Falls in 1912.

Now the governor’s residence is being fixed up again, mostly structural and mechanical improvements to make sure it endures another century. Who occupies it next has always been up to Minnesotans. It may be the first time in history that the rest of the country decides.