[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.
____________________