[Congressional Record Volume 140, Number 97 (Friday, July 22, 1994)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Page E]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Printing Office [www.gpo.gov]


[Congressional Record: July 22, 1994]
From the Congressional Record Online via GPO Access [wais.access.gpo.gov]

 
         THOMAS SWAIN BARCLAY--A GREAT TEACHER, A GREAT FRIEND

                                 ______


                           HON. STEPHEN HORN

                             of california

                    in the house of representatives

                         Friday, July 22, 1994

  Mr. HORN. Mr. Speaker, recently a memorial service was held for a 
great teacher and friend who encouraged over three decades of Stanford 
students to love American history and politics and to serve their 
community, their State, and their Nation.
  Thomas Swain Barclay was a son of Missouri, a graduate of its State 
university, who then went east to Columbia to secure his doctorate in 
political science. He returned to his alma mater, the University of 
Missouri, and in a few years was called to Stanford University where he 
joined the faculty in 1927 and served as professor of political science 
until his compulsory retirement at age 65 in 1957. He died at 101 on 
December 21, 1993, 5 weeks short of his 102d birthday.
  Five of Professor Barclay's students became U.S. Senators; at least 
another five served in the House of Representatives. A number of his 
students became captains of industry with a keen understanding of 
American politics. Among the latter were Najeeb Halaby, former chief 
executive officer of Pan American Airways; Rudy Munzer, chief executive 
officer of Petrolane, Inc.; and George Egan, an entrepreneur in 
southern California.
  Because of the legislative schedule, neither Senator Mark O. Hatfield 
nor I could participate in the beautiful memorial service at the 
Stanford Memorial Church which was arranged by Messrs. Egan, Halaby, 
and Munzer. The moderator was Dr. Dennis Bark, whose father, professor 
of history William Bark, was one of Dr. Barclay's close friends.
  To provide a perspective on the life of Professor Barclay, I include 
the remarks of Dr. Dennis Bark, Senator Hatfield, and myself.

 Remarks of Dr. Dennis L. Bark, the Hoover Institution, in Tribute to 
                          Thomas Swain Barclay

       Thomas Swain Barclay was left-handed and loved baseball. As 
     my brother and I were growing up, we learned about baseball 
     from Uncle Tom; and we learned a lot of other things also, 
     because we first met him when I was five.
       He was always, for Jed and me, Uncle Tom; and that's what 
     we called him all his life.
       We thought one of the remarkable things about Uncle Tom was 
     his memory. He remembered everything! That included facts, 
     and stories, and poetry, and good, old-fashioned, straight 
     forward adages--none of which would have sounded the same 
     from anyone else. In the next few minutes I want to recite 
     some of them, because they describe Uncle Tom the way many of 
     his Stanford friends knew him.
       Often he would begin a conversation--at ``The Frenchman's 
     House,'' at 721 Alvarado Row, at his cottage at Miss 
     Gardner's, at l'Ommies, at the Bohemian Club, at his home on 
     Mayfield Road, or at Webster Street--with, ``Here is the 
     batting order.'' So, here it is.
       My father and Uncle Tom met in 1927/28. Uncle Tom joined 
     the Stanford Faculty in 1927, and may father arrived at 
     Stanford as a Freshman that same year. That friendship 
     continued almost sixty-five years, until December 21, 1993.
       Along the way there were many milestones.
       Uncle Tom and my father loved football games, and all of us 
     went together. We discussed the ``Old Alma,'' and listened to 
     Dink Templeton on the radio.
       When my brother and I were teenagers he decided my brother 
     had special talents, because he was left handed and played 
     first base. So every time Uncle Tom went home on Sundays, 
     after dinner at our house, he would remind Jed: ``Stay on 
     first base.''
       Uncle Tom was regularly at our house for dinner. He always 
     brought my mother a one pound box of See's candies, because 
     they were the best. He presented the candy to mother, and 
     said to me and my brother: ``We're in clover; your mother's 
     cooking dinner.''
       Part of Uncle Tom's life was Stanford, and another part was 
     St. Louis, where he went every year. We took him to the train 
     after we got our driver's licenses--he never drove a car--and 
     picked up his mail while he was away, which included the 
     freshly laundered shirts sent from St. Louis.
       Later, in the 1970's and early 1980's, after I was married 
     and Uncle Tom had moved to Webster Street, our children took 
     him his mail every Saturday morning on their bicycles, and 
     always stayed a while to, as Uncle Tom used to say, ``review 
     the situation.'' He kept in touch with Dwight, Matthew, and 
     Samuel, and he knew until December 21 where they were in 
     school and what they were studying.
       When I was a student at Stanford I saw him not only for 
     Sunday dinners, but also for lunch at the Old Union, for a 
     drink at the cottage, and then later across the street at 619 
     Mayfield. In 1964, when I was in my senior year, and Uncle 
     Tom had been retired since 1957, he came back to teach a 
     Senior Colloquium on the 1964 elections--so we could say that 
     he had been both my father's and my teacher.
       During those years at Stanford, and later on, I made notes, 
     here and there, of what he said. Not only did I save them, 
     but I use a lot of them myself.
       One of his favorites was, ``Politeness costs nothing and 
     buys everything,'' often followed by ``Never look at the 
     mantle when you're stoking the fire.'' I didn't know what he 
     meant exactly, but I think I figured it out in due course.
       Another one, whose value I saw right away, was, ``Never 
     write a letter to a woman you couldn't chill beer on.'' That 
     was one which particularly annoyed my mother; but it sounded 
     reasonable to me at age 21.
       Then, there were some which did make a lot of sense, but 
     which an undergraduate at Stanford really had a tough time 
     appreciating until later on. Such as: ``She knows the 
     difference between a parlor and a drawing room.'' And two 
     more that go together particularly well: ``Just remember, you 
     don't have to tell everything you know.'' If that wasn't 
     clear enough, he added, ``You don't have to explain anything 
     you didn't say.''
       The one I liked best, in some ways, was one which I am 
     still not sure I understand completely: ``Never change 
     barrels while going over Niagara Falls.''
       Of course, Stanford was often a topic of conversation, and 
     the only time I think I saw Uncle Tom really become annoyed 
     was when there was discussion about Stanford's being on the 
     edge of greatness. It was a phrase intended to raise money 
     for Stanford's PACE campaign of the early 1960's. When this 
     talk started it was shortly after Uncle Tom's retirement, and 
     he did not like the implication. So he inverted the 
     intention, and told his friends, more than once: ``Stanford 
     is on the edge of greatness; the question is can it climb 
     back to the top?'' In more sanguine moments he would say, 
     solemnly: ``There isn't anything I can do about it.'' And if 
     we ventured a comment, especially when we were young, he 
     always welcomed it with: ``Well, another county heard from!''
       Whenever he thought of it, he would often say in this 
     latter context of being unable to do anything about it, ``If 
     you can't find someone in your own country to marry, stay 
     where you are.'' Well, I was fortunate to find someone in my 
     own country. The result was that France and Uncle Tom became 
     fast friends for twenty years.
       His legendary memory included the ability to recite poetry 
     and verses, which he often did. They would just sort of roll 
     out, and we all would listen. Our favorite, and I think, his 
     too, was always recited around Thanksgiving and Christmas, 
     which Uncle Tom often spent with us. It comes from ``Love's 
     Labours Lost'': I quote:

     When icicles hang by the wall,
     And Dick, the shepherd, blows his nail,
     And Tom bears logs into the hall,
     And milk comes frozen home in pail,
     When blood is nipp'd and ways be foul,
     Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-who;
     Tu-whit, tu-who--a merry note.
     While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
     When all aloud the wind doth blow,
     And coughing drowns the parson's saw;
     And birds sit brooding in the snow,
     And Marion's nose looks red and raw * * *
     Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-who
     Tu-whit, tu-who--a merry note.
       Following this service there is a reception at the Hoover 
     Institution. A reception there is especially appropriate, for 
     several reasons. Uncle Tom admired the Institution under 
     Glenn Campbell's direction, and he appreciated Glenn's 
     kindnesses to him, of which there were many. Moreover, the 
     courtyard where we will toast Uncle Tom following this 
     service, is named the ``Mark Hatfield Court,'' in honor of 
     Uncle Tom's former student with whom he remained friends all 
     his life.
       Apropos the reception later this afternoon, several 
     additional comments are, as Uncle Tom would phrase it, ``in 
     order.'' There was a unique side to Uncle Tom which all of 
     his friends knew and loved, and which we all recognized with 
     great affection. He loved to talk with people. He was good at 
     it. He remembered everyone, and everybody knew him. And those 
     who didn't, wanted to. One, of many reasons, was that he 
     always followed his own adage: ``Leave them laughing when you 
     say goodby.''
       Uncle Tom loved laughter, held Stanford in great affection, 
     believed that America was beautiful for good reasons, was 
     dedicated to the principles of democracy, considered ethical 
     standards and moral values of major importance; and was a 
     gentleman.
       There was, in addition, the value of good bourbon whiskey.
       Uncle Tom had strong views on this latter subject, and he 
     communicated them to us in no uncertain terms. His advice to 
     me when I went away to college was: ``Never have your picture 
     taken with a drink in your hand.'' With this observation 
     firmly and clearly delivered, he wisely counseled something 
     which seemed very obvious to him: ``You must always drink the 
     wine of the country, and the wine of this country is 
     bourbon.''
       And that is one of the reasons why he was so fond of 
     l``Omelette,'' when Andre and Pierre Frelier ran it. The 
     first time he took me there I wrote down his opening line: 
     ``Andre, it's Jack Daniels.'' It was also at l'Ommies that he 
     gave real meaning to one of his favorite phrases, from Henry 
     the Eighth: ``Good company, good wine, good welcome, can make 
     good people.''
       When he had enjoyed good company, good wine, and a good 
     welcome, he always wrote a thank you note. My mother received 
     many of them and so did my wife. In all of them there was 
     certain to be one particular phrase. I want to turn this 
     phrase around, as I conclude, and say to Uncle Tom what he 
     wrote so unfailingly to us: ``What answer can I make, but 
     `thanks--and thanks--and ever thanks.'''
                                  ____


               Remarks of Mark O. Hatfield, U.S. Senator

       In remembering Professor Thomas Barclay, I was unsure at 
     first how to refer to him. Was he a teacher? Was he a mentor? 
     Was he both?
       Webster's dictionary defines a teacher as ``one whose 
     occupation it is to instruct''--a rather bland image.
       The term ``mentor,'' however, is defined as ``a trusted 
     counselor or guide.'' True, Thomas Barclay was my teacher. 
     But he was more. He was a trusted advisor and was truly a 
     mentor to me.
       During my years as a graduate student at Stanford, I was 
     considering a career in public service and was solidifying my 
     Republican roots. Yet there I was studying political parties 
     under the tutelage of a centrist Democrat. As a good teacher 
     will, he did not attempt to impose his opinions on his 
     students. He sought merely to ensure that my understanding of 
     history was thorough and that my reasoning was solid.
       At times, however, his Democratic leanings were evident. 
     One such occasion in particular stands out in my mind.
       Under his guidance, I was writing my thesis on the subject 
     of the labor policies of Herbert Hoover as they evolved 
     during the years leading to Hoover's election in 1928. As you 
     know, Hoover defeated Democrat Al Smith, the long-time 
     governor of New York, for the presidency.
       This campaign was the earliest in United States history to 
     be influenced significantly by the advent of radio. For the 
     first time, Americans could hear the voice of each candidate. 
     I contended that this development was a significant factor in 
     Hoover's victory. His voice was deep and resonant. Al 
     Smith's, suffice it to say (remember he was a New Yorker), 
     was not.
       In my thesis, I had labeled Smith's voice ``unpleasant.'' 
     Professor Barclay, however, crossed out ``unpleasant'' on my 
     draft and inserted ``unusual.'' I kept the change, knowing a 
     protest was futile.
       One of my fondest memories of Professor Barclay is the 
     image I have of him sitting at a table at a favorite 
     restaurant of students of my time, L'Omlettes, a place we 
     had affectionately dubbed ``L'Ommie's''. An impeccable 
     dresser, Professor Barclay would sit calmly at a table, 
     sipping his Park and Tifford, surrounded by enthusiastic 
     students pumping him for comments. Warm and kind yet 
     commanding respect, he was the image of Edwardian 
     sartorial splendor. Professor Barclay was a true 
     gentleman, one of the last of a fading breed.
       Thomas Barclay was to the students of Stanford University 
     more than simply an instructor. He was never one to blindly 
     impart his knowledge to an audience of anonymous faces. 
     Instead, Professor Barclay was a mentor in the richest sense 
     of the word. He engaged each student individually and 
     challenged us to evaluate, to be critical, and to form well-
     reasoned opinions of our own.
       It has been said that a teacher affects eternity. With 
     Professor Barclay, this is certainly the case. I feel 
     extremely fortunate to have studied under his guidance. His 
     influence on me and on every student he taught was powerful 
     and lasting. He will be sorely missed.
                                  ____


              Remarks of Stephen Horn, Member of Congress


          ``a student's perspective on thomas swain barclay''

       There are so many memories of Thomas Swain Barclay over 
     four decades of knowing him: first as an undergraduate in 
     political science 1, American Government, fall 1950. He took 
     an interest in those of us who were in student government and 
     who also cared about national issues. His course in political 
     parties coincided with the 1952 Presidential campaign. He 
     made the study of politics and power exciting. No wonder five 
     of his students became United States Senators and several 
     became Members of the House of Representatives.
       In 1953, in political science 400, a graduate seminar on 
     methodology, Professor Barclay's historic opening words to 
     the group of apprentice professionals was: ``Grasp life by 
     the throat rather than by the tail.''
       He also urged us: ``Don't praise or condemn theories of 
     institutions: understand them.''
       We all saw in TSB a friend, a mentor, a great teacher, and 
     the epitome of a gentleman, whether we were political science 
     majors, pre-med--or even engineers. He cared about us and 
     what we did.
       He cared about relationships and families. Given his 
     amazing memory for maiden names and who was who when and 
     where, I often thought that he might become a previously 
     untapped source for the great collection on genealogy of the 
     Church of Latter Day Saints in Salt Lake City.
       In between the seriousness of a lecture I recall him 
     saying:
       1. ``Being a Democrat or a Republican is the most casual 
     thing in the world.''
       2. ``Political parties are like football games--the teams 
     have the same rules, just different colored sweaters.''
       3. Recalling that President Eisenhower appropriated the 
     ``100% of farm parity issue'' from the Democrats in 1952, TSB 
     summed it up: ``You find your opponent in swimming and steal 
     his clothes.''
       4. ``Roosevelt talked `prettier' about civil rights, but 
     Truman tried `to do' something about them.''
       His lectures were sprinkled with the wisdom and humor of 
     some of the great political scientists of his era. As a 
     Columbia doctorate, he was particularly influenced by the 
     works of Charles A. Beard, one of that institution's great 
     teacher-scholars. In his 100th year, I asked TSB to remind me 
     of a Beard quote for a speech. Without a moment's pause, he 
     rattled it off as he had 40 years before.
       I recall his favorite story about Beard being a gadfly to 
     Columbia's imperious president Nicholas Murray Butler. After 
     one of Beard's many books was published, a faculty member 
     asked President Butler, ``Have you seen Beard's last book?'' 
     To which President Butler replied, ``I hope so!'' as he 
     walked on.
       When TSB was not writing notes to Stanford presidents 
     reminding them that the alumni were coming in two weeks and 
     that a pile of trash in the inner quad should be removed, or 
     urging that the expenditures on the medical school were 
     shortchanging undergraduate education, or trying to get the 
     provost--an engineer--to require more liberal arts for 
     undergraduate engineering majors, he was keeping his lectures 
     up to date by reading the books in his great personal library 
     on American politics.
       His students respected him not only because he was a friend 
     but because he was a professional. He integrated 
     constitutional law, American history, and political science. 
     He took us through the processes and excitement of a 
     campaign. He actually liked politics and had practicing 
     politicians to the class to share their knowledge and discuss 
     their problems. He never imposed his political views on his 
     students.
       When Professor Barclay retired in 1957, his retirement 
     celebration was a mock political convention. He was nominated 
     for the office of President of the United States by Stanford 
     president J.E. Wallace Sterling. He was overwhelmingly 
     elected! A Thomas S. Barclay fund to aid Stanford 
     undergraduates was established at that time.
       Tom Barclay loved Stanford. He fondly recalled Missouri. He 
     cherished the Stanford chapter of Phi Beta Kappa for which he 
     served as its long-time secretary. But most of all he valued 
     his circle of past students who shared the common bond of 
     devotion and respect for a great teacher and a true friend.

                          ____________________