Liz Conmy

Liz Conmy, born January 1, 1959, passed away on April 26, 2026, leaving behind a legacy of compassion, courage, and unwavering dedication to her community. As a beloved wife, devoted mother, and steadfast friend, Liz’s life was a testament to the power of quiet strength and heartfelt service. She served the people of North Dakota’s 11th district with the same enthusiasm she brought to her Sunday quilting circles and her legendary potlucks, always finding time to listen, laugh, and lift others up. From her early days in Fargo, Liz was a force of nature—an unassuming force who could turn a simple conversation into a powerful lesson in empathy. She would often take me on “policy hikes,” where we’d stroll through the local park, discuss the next bill, and pause to watch the sunset over the prairie. Her sense of humor was infectious; one memory that never fails to bring a smile is the time she accidentally set off the sprinkler system during a town hall, yet turned the mishap into a spontaneous dance party that had everyone laughing until the lights flickered out. Her marriage to her high school sweetheart, Tom, was a partnership built on mutual respect and shared dreams, a partnership that blessed her with two children who grew up in a home filled with love, books, and the aroma of homemade cinnamon rolls. Liz’s passions extended far beyond the halls of the state capitol. She was an avid gardener, tending to a sprawling vegetable patch that became the envy of the neighborhood. Her hands could coax the most stubborn tomatoes into ripening, and her garden was a living classroom for her grandchildren, who would spend afternoons listening to her stories about the history of the land. In her spare time, Liz loved to play the piano, a skill she learned in high school and turned into a source of comfort for anyone who needed a melody to soothe their worries. She also had a penchant for travel; she once took a spontaneous road trip across the Midwest, returning with stories of roadside diners and the kindness of strangers, all of which she shared over her famous apple pies. The impact Liz had on others is immeasurable. She was a pillar of her community, a mentor to young women entering politics, and a friend who could be counted on in times of crisis. When the local food bank struggled to meet demand, Liz spearheaded a volunteer drive that not only filled shelves but also rekindled a sense of communal responsibility. Her advocacy for rural education and healthcare reforms earned her respect from colleagues on both sides of the aisle, and her warm, approachable demeanor made her a go-to person for anyone needing guidance. Liz’s untimely passing in the tragic plane crash in Brooklyn Park, Minnesota, has left a void that will be deeply felt across North Dakota and beyond. Yet, her spirit lives on in the countless lives she touched, the policies she helped shape, and the laughter that still echoes in the rooms of her home. She will be remembered not just as a public servant, but as a loving mother, a devoted wife, and a friend whose kindness knew no bounds. May her soul rest in peace, and may we all carry forward the torch she lit with such grace and determination.