Words by Megan Smith
Photography by Pamela Sutton
It’s unusually muggy for a September day in Minneapolis and hair around the city is paying the price. Krista Tippett’s red locks (so I’m told by her assistant) are no exception. Which is why when she darts in the back door of the large Minneapolis studio, behind schedule, she’s apologizing profusely for her tardiness.
Maybe it was just the light from the floor to ceiling windows facing Hennipen Street behind her, but I swear that this mother of two and recent White House Humanitarian Award winner standing in front of me in her smart black sheath dress, wedge heels and September hair, was also donning a halo.
She excuses herself for a moment, and while I finish slicing coffee cake for our afternoon chat, her footsteps echo across reclaimed flooring as she makes her way through the upstairs loft. Minutes later, she’s back on the couch beside me, shoes in hand. “I always have my shoes off here in the office” she confides.
I feel like I’m settling in for an afternoon with my sister.
Trying to tell the story of Krista Tippett within the confines of allotted magazine space is like trying to eat an elephant during lunch hour. Impossible. Her journey is vast and deep and complex, and her interests range from science and politics to history and Netflix show marathons. Her career path has taken enough twists and turns over the past three decades to send a resume writer running for the hills.
Yet, Krista remains grounded, real, funny, sweet. She’s wickedly smart and keenly observant. And her laugh is as contagious as her humility.
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