There were maybe as many laughs as tears, as hundreds came to the state Capitol on Thursday for a memorial service honoring the life of the late Hugh McKean of Loveland – the House Minority Leader who died on Oct. 30 at age 55.

McKean’s remains lain in state in the Capitol rotunda for the service that featured a State Patrol honor guard, the playing of “Taps,” and memories shared by leaders such as Gov. Jared Polis, former Gov. Bill Owens, Speaker of the House Alec Garnett and newly-elected House Minority Leader Mike Lynch of Wellington.

McKean is believed to be the first sitting lawmaker to be so honored, which was granted by Polis. 

More than 100 current and former members of the Colorado General Assembly from both chambers and both parties, as well as the attorney general, secretary of state, treasurer and numerous cabinet officials, also paid their respects Thursday. 

U.S. Reps. Jason Crow of Aurora, Ed Perlmutter of Arvada, and Joe Neguse of Lafayette, in whose district McKean lived, also were in attendance. Neguse brought a U.S. flag that had flown over the U.S. Capitol for the family, which includes his longtime partner, Amy Parks. 

In a statement from the House GOP following the service, Parks said, “Hugh was drawn to the State Capitol – not because of its marble and granite – but because it was here that he felt like he could do the most good. It was here, working along-side others, who often didn’t agree with him, that lawmakers would impact the lives of Coloradans and make their lives better.”

“Hugh would have loved the tradition of today’s ceremony and the care taken to honor the grand history of the People’s House. Thank you to Governor Polis and his amazing staff for making the Capitol available for this powerful tradition. Thank you to all those elected leaders, lawmakers, men and women of law enforcement and U.S. military who came to remember and celebrate the life and work Hugh completed on behalf of Coloradans.”

Weld County Commissioner Scott James, among McKean’s best friends (although such was McKean’s heart that many are calling themselves his best friend), led Thursday’s service, with a brief recounting of McKean’s life story. 

James recalled looking for McKean on a trip to the Capitol a couple of years ago. He couldn’t see him, but he could hear that “belly laugh” that was McKean’s trademark.

“His laughter started on the north side and bounced through these halls and landed at the doorway of the Senate gallery,” James said. “Hugh’s laughter filled the Colorado state capitol but not as much as his heart.”

McKean would regale – jokingly translated by James as “bore you to tears” – with stories of his boyhood playing at Washington’s Crossing in Bucks County, Pa., climbing on the very rock where Gen. George Washington crossed the Delaware River and which turned the tide of the Revolutionary War. James asked McKean’s mom, Janet, if the story was true.

“Half true,” she replied. “You decide which half.”

“A love of this great country and a desire to serve its people was just part of Hugh’s DNA,” James added.

McKean’s “ability to forge genuine connections with people, educate himself on the deep deep details of public policy, combined with his infectious sense of humor, boundless energy and innate curiosity of a seven-year-old, made him not only an effective legislator but an invaluable colleague and friend.”

“Everyone was a potential friend,” James said.

What he loved, James recounted: Amy, cooking, his family, trains, creative mischief, fireworks, firearms and those in the military and in law enforcement.

“Live like Hugh, laugh like Hugh, serve like Hugh and love like Hugh. To do so, we would make Colorado imminently better and truly finish his work.”

Polis said he first met McKean when the lawmaker was first running for the legislature, at the Loveland Corn Festival, and said they built an immediate relationship, which he attributed to McKeans’ outgoing and friendly nature. Polis spoke to McKean the day before he died, discussing a vacancy situation.

“Hugh knew everyone at the Capitol by name,” whether it was state patrol, staff, lobbyists or custodians. He made everyone he talked to feel like they were the most important person in the room. What Hugh would ask about were the things that mattered: family, friends and how people were truly doing in those late nights in the Capitol.

As a public servant, he cared for his constituents and worked everyday to bring their voices to the Capitol, and he was never shy to bring his point of view to their regular meeting, Polis said. To his family, Polis said “the man they knew and loved has left a lasting legacy in this building and across the state…Colorado is the better for his leadership.”

Garnett spoke about their relationship, especially when it came to Garnett’s family.

“Hugh McKean loved big and he loved everybody,” Garnett said. “He knew every issue happening in the Capitol. He loved my kids in a way no one in this building did.”

Garnett’s kids would visit McKean’s office and race cars in his office, or just connect with them at their level. Garnett’s four-year-old daughter came home from school Wednesday with a card for McKean’s family. That he forged relationships with a four-year-old and seven-year-old shows how well he understood people, Garnett said.

Garnett told about the times McKean would sneak into Garnett’s office and leave him notes on his desk, or the time McKean filled up one of Garnett’s water bottles with vodka.

“I can smell it!” a slightly indignant Garnett told him. 

McKean was a staunch Republican and proud of it. Garnett said McKean reminded him of the Republicans he grew up with, those who believed the private sector could solve problems better than the state and in the value of small government.

They disagreed on policy, most notably the 2018 red flag law. McKean made sure he was heard, that he dug into the legislation and pointed out the weak spots without putting their friendship or the institution at risk. He was a statesman, Garnett said.

“He loved being a legislator, being a good friend and being part of something greater than him.”

Owens spoke of McKean as a leader. A leader of the minority party doesn’t get 60 bills signed into law by throwing stones, Owens said. That wasn’t how McKean operated.

“It takes an effective, principled and respected legislator to be effective. It takes Hugh McKean,” the former governor said.

A difference of opinion does not have to grow into a chasm of rancor, Owens said. McKean “made his case with strength, energy, sound ideas but also with respect, civility and good humor.”

It was Lynch who joked that McKean “had a real talent for being inappropriate, always at the appropriate time.” McKean could always be caught on camera, laughing with his mouth open, Lynch said. McKean worked tirelessly for his district, not for himself but for the people he served. 

McKean was a “nerd” for the state Capitol, Lynch said. He’d know where that painting came from, where that tunnel went or when that chip on the wall occurred. 

James wrapped up the service by asking how many people heard McKean told you “I love you.” Hands went up all over the building. And how many of you felt a little awkward when he first said it? James asked. Lots of hands stayed up, along with laughter.

“I love you” became Hugh’s trademark, James said. It’s not only a genuine expression of affection, but a reminder that relationships with people mattered far more to McKean than politics.

James then asked everyone to turn to a stranger nearby and say “I love you.”

McKean’s funeral service will be Saturday at Resurrection Fellowship, 6502 East Crossroads Blvd., in Loveland, beginning at 11 a.m.

In lieu of flowers, the family has asked that contributions be made to Foothills Gateway, an organization devoted to assisting those with intellectual and developmental disabilities in Northern Colorado.