[Congressional Record Volume 140, Number 134 (Thursday, September 22, 1994)]
[Senate]
[Page S]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Printing Office [www.gpo.gov]


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

 
                JERRY TINKER--FIGHTING THE WORLD'S FIGHT

  Mr. KENNEDY. Mr. President, it is my sad duty to inform the Senate of 
the death last Friday of Jerry Tinker, the longtime staff director of 
the Judiciary Subcommittee on Immigration and Refugee Affairs. All of 
us who knew Jerry are deeply saddened by his sudden and tragic loss.
  For 24 years, Jerry was part of my life, and I valued him greatly as 
an adviser and member of my staff. But most of all I cherished him as a 
friend and respected him as the unique and extraordinary humanitarian 
he was. For the quarter century that we worked together, he was the 
real voice of the Senate and the conscience of the world on issues 
relating to immigration and refugees.
  He had a masterly understanding of the legislative process and how to 
move Congresses and administrations alike. He was the architect of the 
Commission on Immigration Reform in the 1970's that laid the groundwork 
for the achievements of the past decade, and of the new Commission that 
is counseling Congress today. Only last Wednesday, we were meeting in 
my office to go over current issues.
  Jerry respected everyone. He had a special facility for reaching 
across the aisle and out to others, and for dealing with complex 
volatile issues in ways that calmed passions, minimized polarization, 
and maximized cooperation.
  Democrats often thought I was eating out of Al Simpson's hand, and 
Republicans felt that Al was eating out of mine. But both of us knew 
that Jerry was the master chef.
  It is often said that individuals can make a difference. But Jerry 
Tinker made a difference on a massive scale that I suspect few have 
ever equalled. Because of Jerry, millions of citizens from other 
countries have had the chance to seek a new life and pursue the golden 
dream and opportunity of America. America is a nation of immigrants.
  Because of Jerry, that priceless aspect of our history and heritage, 
our immigrant heritage, has been renewed and revitalized for our own 
day and generation. His achievements are found not only on the pages of 
the statute books, but in the life of the Nation as well.
  Through his able work and tireless dedication on behalf of refugees 
in every corner of the world, Jerry may well have been responsible for 
saving more lives than any other person of our time, and it is tragic 
that his own life has been so suddenly cut short.
  He found his calling early, as a graduate student in India and in 
later research in the 1960's on the refugee crisis in Vietnam.
  He felt deeply that action had to follow study. And year after year 
after year, from the day he joined staff, wherever on the planet people 
were suffering from the ravages of natural or manmade disasters, Jerry 
was always there to help in spirit--and often in the flesh.
  The international relief community was accustomed to Jerry's arrival. 
As a friend of Jerry's once said, wherever and whenever the four 
horsemen of the apocalypse--symbolizing war, famine, pestilence, and 
death--touched down anywhere on Earth, another nobler rider symbolizing 
peace, food, health, and life was always close behind, and his name was 
Jerry Tinker.
  Together, in the early 1970's in India and a few months later in 
Bangladesh, we witnessed one of the most appalling tides of human 
misery in modern times.
  We saw tragedy in the devastation of the countryside, in the broken 
lives of refugee families, in the eyes of maimed children, in the 
whitened skeletons of mass graves, and in the faces of millions 
struggling desperately to begin life anew in the aftermath of that 
brutal civil war and violence and repression.
  But on our second visit, we could also see the emerging triumph in 
the joy of a people relieved that their nightmare of fear and violence 
was coming to an end, and their gratitude for the help that Jerry 
demanded America provide. We saw the hope of a people who had 
courageously won a victory for self-determination, whose new nation was 
rising from devastation and misery. And Jerry Tinker, as much as any 
other American, was the one who made that triumph possible.
  In his student days in India, Jerry had discovered the music of Ravi 
Shankar. I still remember the performance we attended one evening in 
the old music hall in Calcutta. Scheduled for 9, it began in 11:30 and 
lasted until 2:30 in the morning, and Jerry was on the edge of his seat 
for the whole performance. By understanding the music, he could 
understand the people better.
  Earlier that day, we had visited the Salt Lake Refugee Camp outside 
Calcutta, where 300,000 refugees were struggling to survive. Ever 
afterwards, for both of us, that single day summed up the best and the 
worst of the human condition.
  As a student in India, Jerry had also discovered the verse of Tagore, 
the great Bengali poet and philosopher. In preparing for our trips, 
Jerry gave me a book of Tagore's verse. One of the poems, ``An Ode to 
Peace and Freedom,'' contains these lines:

     Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
     Where knowledge is free;
     Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by 
           narrow domestic walls * * *
     Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

  That vision of peace and freedom and our common humanity was Jerry 
Tinker's vision too. He shared it with us all, and brought us closer to 
it.
  I remember when the first reports came in during 1984 of the massive 
famine taking place in Ethiopia. Jerry had packed his bags, but he 
insisted that I should pack mine as well, so that we could do as much 
as possible to bring the world's attention to the magnitude of the 
crisis. And so we went there together, stayed in the tents alongside 
the relief workers, and joined in the relief effort. And Jerry was 
right, as always--our presence there helped to turn the tide.
  A few years later, the Ethiopian Government's relief coordinator 
wrote a book about the famine. He was critical of most of the 
dignitaries who came, because they often failed to comprehend the 
gravity of the crisis or offer any concrete help. He said there were 
two visits to Ethiopia at the time that had made a significant 
difference--one was by Mother Theresa and the other was ours. It was 
Jerry's leadership and commitment which made that difference, and it 
was also probably the only time that Mother Theresa and I have been 
compared.
  On his many trips, Jerry was known for traveling light. He could 
leave for a 2-week trip with a single suitcase, and usually it was only 
partly full. His secret weapon was a Jerry Tinker trademark--an 
indestructible tan safari suit.
  He said he had discovered its miraculous qualities on a trip to India 
years ago. The suit could stand up to day after day of rugged wear in 
the Horn of Africa or the remotest areas of Indochina. While his 
traveling companions were hauling suitcases filled with tropical 
clothing and mounting piles of laundry, Jerry would simply rinse out 
his tan safari suit each night, and reappear each morning in a suit 
which was dry, fresh, and with a permanent press that never let him 
down.
  Jerry liked to joke that NASA had once approached him in search of a 
new fabric for space suits for shuttle astronauts. The safari suit, 
like Jerry, was comfortable in the most destitute refugee camps in the 
world, and equally at home in the highest corridors of power in 
Washington.
  We traveled together occasionally in this country, too. One December, 
during field hearings on poverty and hunger in America, we went to a 
farm community in rural Missouri. It was bitter cold, with snow and ice 
everywhere. Many farmers were facing bankruptcy at the time, and the 
television program ``Nightline'' had asked to interview me in the home 
of one of the farmers.
  But the TV crew had trouble getting their truck and satellite dish to 
the farm. The truck skidded on the ice and went into a ditch. Jerry, 
ever resourceful, was equal to the challenge. He mobilized the local 
farmers to find the nearest tractor to pull the truck out of the ditch. 
The farmers loved Jerry's light and skillful touch, and they stayed in 
touch with him for years afterward. They told and retold the tale of 
how Jerry made the show go on.
  Jerry always had time for others. He was never too busy to offer a 
supportive word or write a caring letter to a friend in need. All of us 
who worked with him knew him as a man of great insight, wisdom and 
experience. He would generously share his knowledge, but he was always 
open to new ideas from others. Countless people over the years were 
inspired to public service and humanitarian careers by his example, and 
we will miss him all the more.
  Friends also loved him for his colorful descriptions of the 
legislative process, and for his famous tours of the Capitol Building. 
He adored his daughters, Caroline and Katy, and he'd often take their 
classmates on tours. He could bring the Capitol to life for anyone, 
young or old, and make them feel a part of it and a part of our 
country's history.
  He had a knack for running into Senators in his tours. They all knew 
Jerry. Senator Dole would show them the fireplace where the British 
burned the books of the Library of Congress in the War of 1812. Senator 
Simpson would show them the statue of Esther Morris, the famous pioneer 
for woman's suffrage from Wyoming, and tell them how Wyoming gave women 
the right to vote in 1869.
  Too often, it seems that the number of humanitarian emergencies in 
the world outweighs the world's and America's capacity to care. But 
Jerry Tinker stood against all that. Because he cared so intensely, so 
skillfully, and so compassionately, many others came to care as well. I 
suspect that in recent days there was a humanitarian emergency in 
heaven where they needed Jerry more.
  Near the end of ``Pilgrim's Progress,'' there is a passage that tells 
of the death of Valiant:

       Then, he said, I am going to my Father's; and though with 
     great difficulty I am got hither, yet I do not regret me of 
     all the trouble I have been at to arrive where I am. My sword 
     I give to him that shall succeed me in my pilgrimage, and my 
     courage and skill to him that can get it. My marks and scars 
     I carry with me, to be a witness for me, that I have fought 
     his battle who now will be my rewarder.
       When the day that he must go hence was come, many 
     accompanied him to the riverside, into which as he went he 
     said, `Death, where is thy sting?'' And as he went down 
     deeper, he said, `Grave, where is thy victory?' So he passed 
     over, and all the trumpets sounded for him on the other side.

  We miss you, Jerry, and we always will.

                          ____________________