[Congressional Record Volume 146, Number 36 (Tuesday, March 28, 2000)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Page E431]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                       HONORING THOMAS R. CAFFREY

                                 ______
                                 

                            HON. JIM SAXTON

                             of new jersey

                    in the house of representatives

                        Tuesday, March 28, 2000

  Mr. SAXTON. Mr. Speaker, today I rise to congratulate Mr. Thomas R. 
Caffrey of Tuckerton, New Jersey. Mr. Caffrey was a first prize winner 
in C-SPAN's American Presidents: Life Portraits Viewers' Contest. Mr. 
Caffrey's poem on President John Adams is worthy of high praise.
  President Adams served as our second president from 1797 to 1801. 
President Adams, as one of our nation's Founding Fathers helped shape a 
newly formed nation with his intellect and vigor. His personal 
correspondence with Thomas Jefferson have delighted scholars for years 
as they provide a personal glimpse of these two very important 
Presidents. Mr. Caffrey's poem encapsulates the life and times of 
President Adams.
  I would like to enter into the Record Mr. Caffrey's poem, ``Our 
Dearest Friend''.

                           Our Dearest Friend


                         (A poem of John Adams)

                         (By Thomas R. Caffrey)

     From Puritan seed a seminal birth to Ancient, he was for the 
         ages.
     A blend of the heavens and merciless Earth To a man needing 
         many assuages
     The genesis of this patriot as Founder will yet be revealed.
     Portending rejection of British flat his fate about to be 
         sealed.
     So stubborn affixing himself to the law in defense of the 
         British who fired.
     Yes justice was blind and everyone saw that murder had not 
         transpired.
     While sufferings mixed with physical his angst was most 
         profound.
     So loving his country, he's practical; can America make it 
         uncrowned?
     A man in the midst of Freedom's vortex
     The lover of laws because they protect and make `That Chair' 
         a rising sun.
     Declaring their freedom with principles inspiring Jefferson's 
         pen.
     The Wordsmith's text would soon convulse all parties, 
         including them.
     Though stunned by the Lion's thundering roar, some cowed by 
         fear of this mother.
     Undaunted courage he'd force to the show, a rally for most of 
         the others.
     Prevailing at Yorktown made him celebrate, Conquest! On his 
         date of birth!
     Yet sober he was knowing full well his station, the Treaty 
         would reflect his worth.
     In Europe he felt the growing unease of absence from 
         `Portia'--his `Friend'.
     He often would stir for his quick release, when will this 
         humility end?
     The tenuous peace was forged with his mettle, in Paris the 
         year '83.
     The subsequent years would provoke much nettle. In Britain he 
         yearned to be free.
     Soon after he mixed into dear Quincy's soil, a call came for 
         services, more.
     For eight years his self-doubt would burden the toil. `It's 
         hopeless', he'd like to implore.
     Before him the Giant of Mount Vernon, the deified A Priori.
     In whose shadow he often fell striving for his own glory.
     Leading was harder than Founding, it seemed. Not service but 
         politics he loathed.
     Betrayals were bad, from Jefferson worse, impossible when 
         they were betrothed.
     A premature move back home was his fate, no destiny to be a 
         two-term.
     Oft' ringing his hands and imploring his mate, his worth 
         would she please affirm?
     He passed many by on the farm at Peacefield, to dust they 
         went, compost for life.
     As his time drew near, posterity sealed, he relented, and 
         thus joined his wife.
     Today we think mainly of First and of Third, on Rushmore and 
         our currency.
     Remember Our Friend, a man of his word, whose heartsleeve was 
         for you and me.

         

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