[Congressional Record Volume 145, Number 83 (Monday, June 14, 1999)]
[Senate]
[Page S6944]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
RICHARD ALLEN'S TRIBUTE TO ADMIRAL BUD NANCE
Mr. HELMS. Mr. President, the late Admiral James W. (Bud) Nance was
eulogized in late May by an eloquent friend who knew Bud well, a friend
who had worked with Bud on many occasions beginning with their
respective responsibilities with President Reagan during the eight
years of the Reagan presidency.
That eloquent friend is a friend of many of us, a remarkable American
who understands the miracle of this great country, Richard V. Allen,
Chairman, The Richard V. Allen Company.
Mr. President, Dick Allen was speaking at a dinner on behalf of a
non-profit foundation at Wingate University. He began by paying his
respects to ``fifteen distinguished directors'' of the foundation,
among them the Honorable Roger Milliken identified by Mr. Allen as
``the champion of good causes''.
At this point, Mr. President, I shall pick up, verbatim, Mr. Allen's
remarks, and I ask that the remainder of those remarks be printed in
the Record.
There being no objection, the remarks were ordered to be printed in
the Record as follows:
But another of these distinguished persons is not with us
this evening, and it is about him--a very special person--
that I am honored to speak some heartfelt words.
I refer of course, to Admiral James W. Nance, an
extraordinary patriot who was laid to rest yesterday morning
at Arlington National Cemetery, perhaps the Senator's closest
confidant after Mrs. Helms, and with whom I was privileged to
have a close relationship for nearly two decades.
It is not possible to convey either the depth of sorrow
reigning over Washington in the week since Bud Nance departed
this earth, nor is it possible to capture in words the
grandeur of the successive honors and tributes so justly
showered upon him in recent days as we celebrated his
extraordinary career, his lifetime with his loving family and
with us.
Bud Nance and Jesse Helms are two distinct persons, friends
since they were little boys and friends for life, men who
knew and understood each other as stalwart loyalists to God,
Family and Country, and who fought side by side for
freedom, democracy and just causes. But to evoke the name
of one is to remind us of the other, and this had a
special meaning for me.
In 1980, following the Reagan landslide and during the
transition, the Chairman-designate of the Senate Agriculture
Committee called to ask if I would meet with a recently
retired Admiral. As the Chairman put it, ``this is a good ole
boy I've known for a long time, he's worked in the Pentagon
and he knows how to fly planes on and off aircraft
carriers.'' The Senator told me he might be interested in
``some kind of junior staff job at the NSC,'' and would I
just talk with him.
Bud Nance came aboard the Transition Team steaming at
thirty knots, said he liked tough assignments and could
execute them well. For starters, I asked him to work with my
own long-time friend, Gene Kopp, in ``revamping the Carter
National Security Council staff.'' Bud said: ``Oh, I get it,
I'm supposed to be just like a vacuum cleaner, just blow `em
all out of there?'' And he did just that!
Yesterday, Secretary of State Madeleine Albright, who
graciously attended the services for Bud and was here
tonight, reminded me that Bud had invited her--she was then
an assistant to Zbigniew Brzezinski, my predecessor--in for
an interview, since he was meeting with all departing staff
members, some of whom, incredibly, thought they should be
kept on. She recalls saying to him, ``Why are you
interviewing me? I don't want to work with you people
anyway!!'' As it turned out, she was right!
Bud Nance was just the best associate and the hardest
working man a fellow could ever have. He insisted on doing
heavy lifting, and served his President faithfully and well.
On one occasion, in the summer of 1981, the Navy was running
an operation into the Gulf of Sidra, near Libyan waters, to
establish freedom of navigation there. I was in California
with President Reagan. Bud insisted on sleeping the night in
the Situation Room, in order to supervise the operation. At
about midnight on the West Coast, I got the call from Bud,
who in a matter of fact tone said, ``Dick, we sent our
carrier in there, and two Libyan fellas came flyin' out at us
in Russian Migs. We put up our planes, and now the Libyans
ain't flying any more because they locked their radars onto
our boys, and their planes got all tore up by our missiles,
and those Libyan boys are definitely down in the drink. Now,
if I was you, I'd be callin' the President, and I'm goin'
home to get some sleep.''
If I were to recite the extraordinary career and
accomplishments of this very special man, I'd merely repeat
what more than twenty Senators of both parties related so
eloquently in their speeches under a Special Order on
Tuesday--filling fifteen solid pages of the Congressional
Record, and what was said so movingly by his granddaughter
Catherine and son Andrew at yesterday's services.
Leaving the White House in 1982, Bud went to work for
Boeing until Senator Helms asked him to come up to the Hill
and take charge of the Foreign Relations Committee in 1991.
After the Navy, after The White House, after Boeing, he
again accepted the call of duty. Everyone knows the basis
on which he agreed to go to work again--he declared that
he would work for free year, saying that his pension and
social security were quite enough, thank you, and
``America has been good to me.'' He was not permitted to
do that, and had to accept minimum wage of $2.96 a week,
later raised by cost of living increases, he was forced to
accept the munificent sum of $4.53 a week.
Each of us who knew, respected and loved him will miss him
very much.
Yesterday, the motorcade that left the Lewinsville
Presbyterian Church in McLean enroute to Arlington Cemetery
stretched for nearly two miles. The cannon fired their
salute, the rifles cracked, the bugler played Taps, the Honor
Guard stood by, and Bud's pastor asked us to stand for the
flyover.
North across the Potomac they came, four magnificent F-18
jets, flying in precise formation; as they roared directly
over the assembled mourners, three proceeded straight ahead
while one ignited his afterburner, peeled off in a long and
beautiful arc, flying straight up into the heavens,
symbolizing Bud's career and the passage to his Maker. It was
a profound moment, reminiscent of how much Bud liked that
little placard that used to rest on President Reagan's desk
with the inscription,
``There's no limit to what a man can do or where he can go
if he doesn't mind who gets the credit.''
Bud never minded at all.
____________________