[Congressional Record Volume 141, Number 108 (Thursday, June 29, 1995)]
[Senate]
[Page S9469]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]


                  EULOGY FOR DEBRA LYNN SIMMONS STULL

 Mr. McCONNELL. Mr. President, there is nothing that confounds 
our logic and our sense of justice more than life cut short before its 
time. And when a person of special character and giftedness dies young, 
the loss casts a long shadow over everyone who knew the individual. The 
memory never completely recedes into the past, nor do we ever find a 
point of comfortable reconciliation with it.
  Such is the case with the recent and untimely death of Debra Lynn 
Simmons Stull, sister of my director of communications, Kyle Simmons. A 
wife, a mother, a sister and a daughter, Debbie had already led a life 
that was rich with family bonds, with church service, and with 
community involvement. She was so energetic and vibrant that everyone 
who knew her naturally expected she would long outlast them all. But 
that was not to be. An accident at home suddenly interrupted this 
shining life, leaving the many who loved her the difficult task of 
sorting it all out.
  Debbie's brother Kyle composed a beautiful eulogy for his sister, 
which I would like to read into the Record. It tells the story of a 
remarkable individual--who was not a person of title or lofty position, 
not someone whose name was regulary mentioned on the weekend talk 
shows, nor someone who even remotely desired such attention--yet Debbie 
Stull lived her life in a way that made the world she inhabited 
immeasurably better and that profoundly touched each person she knew.
  In this time of mourning, I would like to extend my sympathy to the 
Stull and Simmons families. May you find the grace and strength to help 
you through this present hardship.
                 Eulogy for Debbie Stull, June 24, 1995

       It doesn't surprise me or my family one bit that the 
     occasion of my sister Debbie's death has produced such an 
     outpouring of public support and comfort.
       Debbie wasn't neutral or ambivalent about anything--so, 
     consequently, it was impossible to be neutral or ambivalent 
     about her. And, in her case, everyone loved her.
       She was one of life's active participants. If you were ever 
     around her, you knew that she engaged you with her smile, her 
     laugh, her warmth. As my Mom said recently, Debbie came at 
     life with a balled-up fist--determined to ring from it all 
     the vitality it could offer. And she did.
       For some, emotion is like water collecting behind the wall 
     of a dam, but for Debbie it was a never ending spring which 
     flowed freely and would wash over anyone lucky enough to be 
     nearby. As someone said to me last night at the visitation, 
     she always made you feel special.
       No doubt she touched your lives in many ways. Some of you 
     will recall her wonderful singing voice. She always loved 
     music and singing in church was always her favorite.
       And let me say to the many children in her choir, Miss 
     Debbie loved you. Nothing would make her happier than for all 
     of you to go on singing.
       Others may remember her as the always ready volunteer, 
     ready to pitch in and help. Still others will recall the glow 
     of her irrepressible smile--she smiled more than any other 
     person I ever knew. And I'm sure others were on the receiving 
     end of one of her hugs which said, ``I understand.''
       Of course, she touched us, too.
       My Dad moved the family in 1952, to St. Petersburg, 
     Florida, where he began his career as a Baptist minister. Not 
     yet 30, he and Mom raised Anne, Debbie, and Bob in a world of 
     real togetherness.
       It didn't take Debbie long to make her mark.
       In his early childhood, Bob was slightly more interested in 
     the world that turned inside his head that what was happening 
     elsewhere. You could call him a dreamer.
       Ordinarily, this quality would have marked him as an easy 
     target for some of the other kids except that Debbie--in 
     addition to being his sister--was also the neighborhood 
     enforcer. It was widely known that if you messed with Bob, 
     you messed with Debbie. And, of course, that fact was enough 
     to make Bob's interior world safe from harm. Years later, Bob 
     would remark that Debbie would march through the gates of 
     Hell for you. And he was right.
       Anne and Debbie sang together. When they were teenagers the 
     task of washing and drying the dishes fell to them. They 
     didn't seem to mind too much because it gave them chance to 
     sing hymns. With Anne's rich alto and Debbie's clear soprano, 
     their voices were beautiful together. As they grew older, 
     they sang together less and less, but what we wouldn't give 
     to hear their sisterly voices wrap around each other one more 
     time in harmony.
       Mom and Debbie were best friends. Debbie's social ease and 
     grace came from Mom. And it was only Debbie who could match 
     Mom's enthusiasm for shopping.
       The last time they were together, they woke at 6 a.m. to 
     drive three hours to Jacksonville for a day of shopping--nine 
     full hours worth. Although I've not asked, I have no doubt 
     the radio was never turned on during that long drive home--
     they simply had too much to talk about. With those two, the 
     apple did not fall from the tree.
       All the way to the end, my Dad's nickname for Debbie was 
     ``flea.'' It was his fatherly way, I think, of capturing at 
     once her boundless energy and how sweet and small and 
     precious she was to him. Debbie always loved his special name 
     for her. And it was always with love that he used it.
       Anne Kathryn, I don't need to tell you how much your Momma 
     loved you. You were the light in her life. I cannot recall a 
     single conversation with your Mom when she didn't tell me how 
     and what you were doing--and she was always so proud of you.
       David, what can be said? We love you. Debbie's life force 
     was so strong it made us believe she would be here forever, 
     but we were wrong.
       And so we huddle together today to say goodbye to Debra 
     Lynn Simmons Stull; sister and daughter, mother and wife, 
     friend and neighbor, partner in song.
       We commit her body to the earth, her soul to the heavens--
     but her spirit lives on in every last one of us who ever knew 
     her.
       We will miss her very, very much.
       

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