[Congressional Record Volume 142, Number 60 (Friday, May 3, 1996)]
[Senate]
[Pages S4691-S4692]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                         LITTLE TIME TO GRIEVE

  Mr. COHEN. Mr. President, last Sunday I had occasion to address a 
memorial service that was held for Senator Muskie at Bates College in 
Maine to comment about his life in the U.S. Senate and beyond when he 
served as Secretary of State. It was a very moving testimonial that 
highlighted his enormous accomplishments during a career of public 
service, including his time as Governor of Maine and his service here 
in the Senate and as Secretary of State.
  Last week, at about this time, I also had occasion to stand on the 
Senate floor and offer my condolences and a brief eulogy to Gayle Cory, 
a woman who had served Senator Muskie for some 21 years as a very 
trusted and loyal aide and then went on to serve his successor, Senator 
Mitchell, before she became head of the Senate post office.
  It seems, and I recall this so very well, when Vaclav Havel addressed 
a joint meeting of Congress, he made a statement about events that were 
taking place in the world. He said, ``Things have been happening so 
rapidly that we have little time to be astonished.'' That quote keeps 
coming back to me in terms of so many tragedies that occur in so rapid 
a period of time that we have very little time to grieve.
  When I first came here, I was joined by my colleague from Wyoming, Al 
Simpson. He told a story during one of our initial meetings about the 
time that he was advised that a very close friend of his had died. He 
sat down and penned a very personal letter to the wife of his close 
friend saying what an extraordinary human being he was and talking 
about some of the great times that they had together, and really 
expressing a wellspring of feeling about his relationship with that 
friend.

  He sent the letter off in the mail, and lo and behold, he was advised 
that the report was a mistake, that his friend actually had not died. 
He was desperate to call the wife of the friend and say, ``Please don't 
open the letter.'' The essence of the story was, from Senator Simpson 
at least, why do we wait so long, why do we wait so long to tell 
someone we love them? Why do we wait until it is too late? Why do we 
wait until they die to express all the eulogies?
  This statement of Al Simpson came to mind as I was reading a column 
by William Raspberry, dated April 15. I am going to read just a portion 
of it. Raspberry cites an article he had read, actually a letter to the 
editor of USA Today written by a man named Barry Harris of Montgomery, 
AL.
  He said:

       ``It's nice to see the tributes to the work of the late 
     Commerce Secretary Ron Brown and all those who perished in 
     the tragic events of a few days ago,'' he wrote. ``But I'm 
     wondering why we didn't see such reporting before their 
     untimely deaths.
       ``It seems that the media spend so much time on criticism 
     of public servants that there's little time or space to 
     comment on their accomplishments on behalf of our country. 
     That is a disservice which only contributes to the climate of 
     governmental cynicism perpetrated by primarily selfish 
     forces.''

  Indeed, I asked myself the same question. Why do we focus on all of 
the negative aspects of those who are willing to serve the public and 
then heap praise upon their caskets like so many flowers? We tend to 
judge our colleagues, and those who serve in the executive branch, on 
surface qualities. We talk about the quality of their clothes, the cars 
they may drive, their mannerisms, all the superficial aspects of an 
individual, without really touching upon the heart and soul of that 
individual.
  Washington can be a very cruel city. I recall something from the very 
first book I ever read about Washington, Allen Drury's novel ``Advise 
and Consent,'' which came out in the late 1950's.
  It struck me, as I recall the imagery created by Drury's wonderful 
pen. He said:

       They come, they stay, they make their mark, writing big or 
     little on their times, in that strange, fantastic, 
     fascinating land in which there are few absolute wrongs or 
     absolute rights, few all-blacks or all-whites, few dead-
     certain positives that won't be changed tomorrow; their 
     wonderful, mixed-up, blundering, stumbling, hopeful land in 
     which evil men do good things and good men do evil in a way 
     of life and government so complex and delicately balanced 
     that only Americans can understand it and often they are 
     baffled.

  That is a wonderful description of this city, a very tough and cruel 
city. As Vincent Foster, who committed suicide a few years ago, 
reminded us, many times Washington politics is such a blood sport.
  Mr. President, I say that there is a general decline in civility and 
common decency, not only in politics, but in many aspects of our lives 
today. I do not intend to take the time to try to catalog the words, 
the deeds that pollute our conscious moments with trash and filth and 
violence.
  I say this by way of a preface to a few comments I will make about 
Ron Brown who was a close friend. It has been nearly a month now since 
he and more than 30 people perished in that plane that was flying into 
Croatia to try to help rebuild and reconstruct that tortured land.
  We have, I think, forgotten the significance of what he meant to so 
many of us, what an extraordinary human being he was, what a life-
enhancing spirit he possessed that he bestowed on anyone he came into 
contact with.
  I recently watched a program with my wife of a speech that he gave 
that took place on February 15 at Howard University. He spoke to what 
appeared to be an entirely black audience. He did not speak of hate or 
anger. He talked about hope and strength and courage, the will to 
overcome adversity, to know in advance that because racism is not a 
dead thing of the past, but alive and flourishing in so many overt and 
subtle ways, that those students would have to be twice as good as 
their competitors in order to win--twice as good--because we still hold 
on to the fiction that America has progressed to the point that society 
is race neutral, that it is colorblind.

  The fact is, Mr. President, that is a fiction. I picked up the 
Washington Post today, and I saw an item about a young woman who had 
moved into the home of her dreams in Philadelphia. She had to abandon 
that hope, which has turned into a nightmare, because she has received 
not only threats to her own safety, but threats to kill her two 
daughters. So she has given up the dream.
  A few weeks ago I saw in the Washington Post a story about a man in 
Chicago, a black man, who could not and would not drive a fancy car, a 
colorful car, or he would not dare to wear his beret because the moment 
he put the beret on or drove a red car, or something that was a sporty 
car, he was sure to be stopped and harassed. So he took the beret off, 
and he drove a plain, gray, dull ordinary-looking car with the hope 
that he would not be harassed by the local police officials.
  These are not extraordinary events. They happen every day, day in and 
day out, for those who do not happen to enjoy the benefit of being 
white in our society.
  I have been reading Colin Powell's work. He is someone who is looked 
upon with great admiration in this country. Many of us hope that he 
will reconsider his announced decision not to become involved in 
politics, at least for the foreseeable future. But in Powell's book 
``My American Journey,'' he talks about the time when he was in high 
school and serving in ROTC. He went down to Fort Bragg in North 
Carolina. At the end of his 6 weeks--he said:

       . . . we fell out on the parade ground for presentation of 
     honors. We were judged on course grades, rifle range scores, 
     physical fitness, and demonstrated leadership. I was named 
     ``Best Cadet, Company D.'' These are the words engraved on 
     the desk set that was presented to me that day and that I 
     still treasure. A student from Cornell, Adin B. Capron, was 
     selected Best Cadet for the entire encampment. I came in 
     second in that category.
       I was feeling marvelous about my honor. And then, the night 
     before we left, as we were turning in our gear, a white 
     supply sergeant took me aside. ``You want to know why you 
     didn't get best cadet in camp?'' he said. I had not given it 
     a thought. ``You think these Southern ROTC instructors are 
     going to go back to their colleges and say the best kid here 
     was a Negro?'' I was stunned more than angered by what he 
     said. I came from a melting-pot community. I did

[[Page S4692]]

     not want to believe that my worth could be diminished by the 
     color of my skin. Wasn't it possible that Cadet Capron was 
     simply better than Cadet Powell?

  Then he goes on to talk about his experience upon leaving Fort Bragg, 
about not being able to go to the same church and sit in the same pew 
with his white colleagues, not being able to go into the same bathrooms 
in order to relieve himself on the way back, not being able to sit at 
the same counter to enjoy a meal, notwithstanding the fact that he 
might have to fight and die in the same trenches as his white 
colleagues.
  I want to conclude my comments about Colin Powell with a reference 
that he made and that I think applies to what I am talking about as far 
as Ron Brown is concerned.
  He said:

       Racism was still relatively new to me, and I had to find a 
     way to cope psychologically. I began by identifying my 
     priorities. I wanted, above all, to succeed at my Army 
     career. I did not intend to give way to self-destructive 
     rage, no matter how provoked. If people in the South insisted 
     on living by crazy rules, then I would play the hand dealt me 
     for now. If I was to be confined to one end of the playing 
     field, then I was going to be a star on that part of the 
     field. Nothing that happened off-post, none of the 
     indignities, none of the injustices, was going to inhibit my 
     performance. I was not going to let myself become emotionally 
     crippled because I could not play on the whole field. I did 
     not feel inferior, and I was not going to let anybody make me 
     believe I was. I was not going to allow someone else's 
     feelings about me to become my feelings about myself. Racism 
     was not just a black problem. It was America's problem. And 
     until the country solved it, I was not going to let bigotry 
     make me a victim instead of a full human being. I 
     occasionally felt hurt; I felt anger; but most of all I felt 
     challenged, I'll show you!

  That is precisely what Ron Brown's life was all about. It is what he 
did his entire life--take any portion of the field and be the best in 
that field, be twice as good as the competition. He did it with grace 
and humor and a great sense of humanity.
  I recall when he was named to be the chairman of the DNC. I see my 
colleague from Arkansas who is here. When he was first proposed to be 
chairman of the Democratic National Committee, there were some people 
who worried about that. ``Wait a minute. We're going to name a black 
man to be chairman of the Democratic National Committee? What's going 
to happen to our white base in the South?'' But Ron Brown built 
bridges. There are some people in our country who want to put up walls 
around the country. Ron Brown's life was dedicated to seeking the best 
in people and not exploiting the worst. He possessed such an abundance 
of humanity that he took the time to read to Lee Atwater. When Lee 
Atwater was dying, it was Ron Brown who went beside his bed and read to 
him. How many of us have such a generosity of spirit? How many of us, 
day in and day out, would be capable of going to the other side, to 
people that we argue and debate with, challenge and fight with over 
political issues and in their time of torment and need take the time to 
read to someone who is dying?

  After all that he did to get Bill Clinton elected as President, I 
think he should have been given any choice of any Cabinet position, not 
because he was black but because he was the best. It did not happen. He 
was offered the position of Secretary of Commerce. He took what was 
offered to him and he did what? He did exactly what Colin Powell and so 
many other black Americans have done and had to do throughout history. 
He became the best on that portion of the field that he was allowed to 
play on.
  Mr. President, I know there are some who would like to abolish the 
Commerce Department as a symbol of our need to reduce the size of 
Government in Washington. I could perhaps understand it if Ron Brown 
were antibusiness. There might be some merit to that. But he was one of 
the most probusiness Secretaries of Commerce we have ever had. I do not 
recall our effort to dismantle the Department of Commerce when 
President Nixon was in office, President Ford, President Reagan, or 
President Bush. But apparently there is a need to dismantle some 
offices and agencies, and that is one we settle on.
  I do not understand it, but let me just say that I think that Ron 
Brown will be remembered as one of the finest Secretaries of Commerce 
we ever had. He was out there the day that he died promoting business 
on behalf of the United States of America.
  I conclude my remarks with a quote taken from Justice Oliver Wendell 
Holmes Jr., something I think applies to Ron Brown:

       Through our great good fortune, in our youth our hearts 
     were touched with fire. It was given to us to learn at the 
     outset that life is a profound and passionate thing. While we 
     are permitted to scorn nothing but indifference and do not 
     pretend to undervalue the worldly rewards of ambition, we 
     have seen with our own eyes, beyond and above the gold 
     fields, the snowy heights of honor, and it is for us to bear 
     the report to those who come after us. But, above all, we 
     have learned that whether a man accepts from Fortune her 
     spade, and will look downward and dig, or from Aspiration her 
     axe and cord, and will scale the ice, the one and only 
     success, which it is his to command is to bring to his work a 
     mighty heart.

  Ron Brown in whatever capacity--as a lawyer, lobbyist, DNC chairman, 
Secretary of Commerce--brought to his work a mighty heart. While there 
are those in our society who would like to point to all the negatives, 
point to all the deficiencies or character flaws, or the superficial 
qualities, there are those of us here who believe that Ron Brown's 
humanity, his courage, his determination to succeed on that portion of 
the field that he was allowed to play on, brought to his work a mighty 
heart. I for one am going to miss him deeply.
  Mr. BUMPERS. Mr. President, while the Senator from Maine is still on 
the floor, let me say that his magnificent accolade to our departed 
brother, Ron Brown, is one of the reasons so many of us are very sad 
that he has chosen to leave the Senate. Those remarks were eloquent. I 
hope they were heard by everybody in the Senate on this slow, Friday 
afternoon.
  Senator Cohen has always been in the forefront of issues that really 
matter, where partisan politics do not have any role. He has, without 
fail, been a giant in this body. Those remarks prove conclusively that 
a lot of people are still in this business because public service is a 
noble calling.
  As I say, I do not know of anybody on either side of the aisle that 
has not expressed profound regret at Senator Cohen's decision to retire 
at the end of this year. He alluded to the press and how they can very 
seldom find anything nice to say about a public servant until after 
they die or retire. Jim Fallows discusses this phenomenon in his book, 
titled ``Breaking the News: How the Media Undermine American 
Democracy.'' It is a magnificent book, and I recommend it. Fallows has 
made a couple of speeches in which he talks about this problem. For 
example, in the weeks before Ron Brown died, the New York Times 
editorial page was castigating him and a couple days after he died he 
was praised on that same editorial page.
  I talked to a Senator yesterday afternoon who decided in 1994 not to 
run again. He said the major newspaper in his State had never said a 
kind word about him that he could remember until he announced his 
retirement. He said he then got more accolades over the next 6 months 
then he had had in his entire public career.
  I suppose you could attribute that to human nature. It is a natural 
thing. It would be nice and it would be gratifying if there was some 
recognition for a few people who labor in the vineyards year after year 
because they believe in this democracy and they believe in our 
political system and they want to operate within it, not like the 
Freemen of Montana. It would be very helpful if somebody said something 
nice.
  Most of us get enough accolades to keep our ego fueled. But I just 
want to again say, Mr. President, Senator Cohen and I have teamed up on 
several causes since we both have been here together. I will miss him 
greatly. One of the reasons is because of the statesmanship he 
demonstrated this afternoon.
  Mr. President, I think that I can say what I want to say about the 
gas tax within 10 minutes, but rather than interrupt my remarks, let me 
ask unanimous consent I be permitted to proceed for such time as I may 
use.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without objection, it is so ordered.

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