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Random Rochesterite: Stacie Stucky

One resident, numerous anecdotes

Stacie Stucky
Stacie Stucky Monday, March 14, 2022, in Rochester, Minnesota.
Traci Westcott / Post Bulletin
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Name: Stacie Stucky
Age: 63
Occupation: Sales
Where we found her: The Tap House

You pronounced your name when you spelled it for me.

Yes, it’s pronounced like “StUcky” with a long U, but people who don’t know me think it’s Stuck-y, like “stuck.”

Last impulse purchase?

Bell bottom stretch pants that I got from Aerie. They’re probably 12- to 14-inch bell bottoms. And the caveat is that I have no business wearing them. But you can’t tell me I can’t, so I’m going to do it. A friend asked me, “Where are you going to wear them?!” Anywhere I want.

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Favorite live music experience?

Grateful Dead, Red Rocks in the early ‘80s. I went there a couple times to hear the Dead in ’82, ’83. It’s by far my favorite live show, because nothing beats Red Rocks. In most cases, a show is 50/50 venue/music. In this case, it’s 100% venue and 100% music. Do yourself a favor and just see anybody there.

Perfect Saturday afternoon?

Pre-COVID, it was getting up in the morning and heading out to my gardens, having coffee with friends, and then going to Andy’s [Liquor] for a wine tasting. I’m not lying, Andy’s wine tastings with Margo—that was like my perfect Saturday. The regulars all came in. Andy’s Northeast was the Rochester version of Cheers. Everybody knew your name.

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First kiss?

His name was Mark and it was in his blue Volkswagen bug. All of us that ran around together in high school, our boy friends—our boys who were friends—they were all cross-country runners, and they all had VW bugs. You could just hear all those little VW bugs racing up the street.

Scary moment?

When my mom was diagnosed with cancer. I was young, 24, and it was one of those heartbeat moments. Those “what?” moments. My mother’s diagnosis changed me. Once you sort of wade through it, you’re a different person. She died of brain cancer at 49.

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What would I be surprised to learn about you?

I’m an Irish twin. My sister and I were both born in the same year, 1958. January and November. For six-and-a-half weeks each year, we’re the same age.

Memorable adventure?

One of my first trips was when I was 19, and I went on a trip with a bunch of people in my church to the Holy Land. I think that adventure—going to Israel, Turkey, Greece—was really life changing for me. I was a young girl and I learned a lot quickly. I came back with a deeper appreciation of my freedoms and my own country. ... After that trip, I never viewed the world the same again. It felt much smaller, and I felt levels of connectedness with other people. It made me realize: We’re all the same. We are more connected than we are disconnected. All over the globe.

Five things you love?

First and foremost, my daughter, Ali, who is incredible, and second, my grandson, Beau. I really love and appreciate my network of friends. And a good sunny day. And, finally, perfect wine, and if you can get good food to go with it, I’m on board.

How did you find your network of friends?

My oldest friendship is with my friend Chris. We met the first day of high school at Mayo High School. The boundary lines for where you go to school had been changed the summer before. Before that, she was supposed to go to John Marshall as her older brother had. But the lines changed and she ended up at Mayo. It was probably the first or second day of high school, and I went into the lunch room and there was this girl looking really sad. I sat down with her, and we became fast friends. Fast forward almost 50 years and we’re still friends. The rest of my network we call the YaYas—that came more in 1998ish or later, when I was working for an ad agency and met people through the Chamber, and it spiraled.

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Advice you follow?

The advice I follow came from my mother. She used to say—repeatedly, at a time my mouth would run a lot—that “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” There was usually a look that came with that. I had many opinions growing up.

Have you always lived in Rochester?

I moved to Wisconsin for a short time. I went to college in Eau Claire. But the majority of life has been in Rochester. My family is here, my grandparents were here, my aunts, uncles, my sister. My dad is here at 89 and still healthy.

Tell me something about him?

He played music in many bands. Even as a 16-year-old kid out of Pine Island, he was playing in big bands around Rochester. He played trombone, and my sister also plays trombone in Incognito. I played baritone and valve trombone, because I was fancy like that, but I stopped after high school.

Did your mom play an instrument?

She never did. But she did keep us involved in a lot of stuff. She wanted to keep us out of trouble. We were in 4-H. My grandmother was a 4-H leader, and we spent a lot of time on their farm baling way too much hay for a quarter a load. There were singing contests in 4-H, and we ended up going all the way to the State Fair. My dad still has the picture from the newspaper.

Your take on how Rochester has changed?

I’ve seen a lot of change—and more rapid change in the last 10, 15 years—but I embrace those changes. I also understand that there are some challenges that come with that. As a person who lives here, I get that. But I’m happy to see changes in Rochester that make me happy: More art, and more music. And I think the diversity of this city is really unique. I hold that deep within me, that this diversity is a beautiful thing about this community. I love Rochester. I really do.

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