[Congressional Record Volume 148, Number 86 (Tuesday, June 25, 2002)]
[Senate]
[Pages S5999-S6000]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
TRIBUTE TO JUSTIN DART, JR.
Mr. HARKIN. Mr. President, Saturday was a sad day for America and for
all who have fought so hard for the rights of people with disabilities
in our society. On Saturday, our Nation lost one of its great heroes:
My good friend, Justin Dart, Jr.
Justin Dart was the godfather of the disability rights movement. For
30 years he fought to end prejudice against people with disabilities,
to strengthen the disabilities right movement, to protect the rights of
people with disabilities. Millions of Americans with disabilities never
knew his name but they owe him so much.
Justin was born August 28, 1930. His grandfather was the founder of
the Walgreen Drug store chain. His father was also a very successful
businessman. Justin was the son of privilege and wealth, but he became
the brother of the forgotten and the downtrodden, those whom society
left on the roadside of life. From the time that polio left him a
wheelchair user in 1948, to this past Saturday when he passed away,
Justin lived a life dedicated to social justice for people with
disabilities and for all people regardless of race or gender or sexual
orientation. He is, of course, best known as the godfather of the
disabilities rights movement and the father of the Americans With
Disabilities Act.
Justin was both a close personal friend of mine and a mentor for me
on disability policy. When I first came to the Senate--after having
worked in the House on a couple of disability issues because I had a
brother who was disabled; I came to the Senate in 1985--at that time
there was a big movement on to pass a Civil Rights Act for Americans
with disabilities. I got caught up in that.
I wondered, is it possible we could ever pass a civil rights bill for
people with disabilities? Through a set of circumstances and fate, I
became the chairman of the Disability Policy Subcommittee and then
became the lead sponsor of the Americans With Disabilities Act. It was
under my sponsorship on that committee, and with the guiding hand of
Senator Kennedy of Massachusetts, who was the chairman of the full
committee, that we were able to get the bill through both the House and
the Senate, signed into law July 26, 1990, by President George Bush.
When I first got here and became involved with the disability rights
movement and with the jelling, the pulling together of all these people
to get the Americans With Disabilities Act passed, it did not take me
long to realize it was Justin Dart who was pulling the pieces together.
For so many years, the disability community has been segregated and
segmented--the deaf community, the blind community, those who used
wheelchairs, those with mental disabilities, those who had illnesses
and diseases. Various forms of disability had their own segments but no
one brought them together under an umbrella. It was the power and the
force, the magnetism of Justin Dart that brought it together, that made
it into a movement whereby we could actually get the Americans With
Disabilities Act passed.
It was fitting that on July 26, 1990, we all gathered on the White
House lawn for the biggest gathering for a bill signing on the White
House lawn in the history of this country. It was a gorgeous, sunny
day. We were all there. Senator Dole had been a great companion in
helping get the bill passed on the Senate side; so many people from the
House side, including Tony Coelho, Steny Hoyer, but there on the
platform was President Bush and Justin Dart. It was right that he was
there on that platform.
When President Bush signed the Americans With Disabilities Act, he
gave the first pen to Justin Dart. He truly was the one who brought us
together and gave the inspiration and guidance to get this wonderful,
magnificent bill through.
The rest, as they say, is history. Go anywhere in America today and
you will see people with disabilities in workplaces, in schools,
traveling with their families to restaurants, going to theaters, going
to sports arenas. All new buildings have wide doorways, ramps
everywhere. No building being built today is not accessible--because of
the Americans With Disabilities Act, because of Justin Dart.
What a tremendous legacy. Justin was a recipient of five Presidential
appointments, numerous honors, including the Hubert Humphrey Award of
the Leadership Conference on Civil Rights. In 1998, Justin Dart
received a Presidential Medal of Freedom, the Nation's highest civilian
award. Before he passed away on Saturday, Justin left a letter. I don't
know exactly when it was written. But I think Justin knew that his time
on Earth was not going to be much longer. He had a series of setbacks.
He lost his leg just about 3 years ago. We thought we lost him then,
but, man, he came back strong and continued to lead. He wrote this
letter, which is just so profound.
I ask unanimous consent to have this last letter from Justin Dart
printed in the Record.
There being no objection, the letter was ordered to be printed in the
Record, as follows:
Justin Dart, Jr.
Washington, DC.
I am with you. I love you. Lead on.
Dearly Beloved: Listen to the heart of this old soldier. As
with all of us the time comes when body and mind are battered
and weary. But I do not go quietly into the night. I do not
give up struggling to be a responsible contributor to the
sacred continuum of human life. I do not give up struggling
to overcome my weakness, to conform my life--and that part of
my life called death--to the great values of the human dream.
Death is not a tragedy. It is not an evil from which we
must escape. Death is as natural as birth. Like childbirth
death is often a time of fear and pain, but also of profound
beauty, of celebration of the mystery and majesty which is
life pushing its horizons toward oneness with the truth of
mother universe. The days of dying carry a special
responsibility. There is a great potential to communicate
values in a uniquely powerful way--the person who dies
demonstrating for civil rights.
Let my final actions thunder of love solidarity, protest--
of empowerment.
I adamantly protest the richest culture in the history of
the world, a culture which has the obvious potential to
create a golden age of science and democracy dedicated to
maximizing the quality of life of every person, but which
still squanders the majority of its human and physical
capital on modern versions of primitive symbols of power and
prestige.
I adamantly protest the richest culture in the history of
the world which still incarcerates millions of humans with
and without disabilities in barbaric institutions, backrooms
and worse, windowless cells of oppressive perceptions, for
the lack of the most elementary empowerment supports.
I call for solidarity among all who love justice all who
love life, to create a revolution that will empower every
single human being to govern his or her life, to govern the
society and to be fully productive of life quality for self
and for all.
I do so love all the patriots of this and every nation who
have fought and sacrificed to bring us to the threshold of
this beautiful human dream. I do so love America the
beautiful and our wild, creative beautiful people. I do so
love you, my beautiful colleagues in the disability and civil
rights movement.
My relationship with Yoshiko Dart includes, but also
transcends, love as the word is normally defined. She is my
wife, my partner, my mentor, my leader and my inspiration to
believe that the human dream can live. She is the greatest
human being I have ever known.
Yoshiko, beloved colleagues, I am the luckiest man in the
world to have been associated with you. Thanks to you, I die
free. Thanks to you, I die in the joy of struggle. Thanks to
you, I die in the beautiful belief that the revolution of
empowerment will go on. I love you so much. I'm with you
always. Lead on! Lead on!
Justin Dart
Mr. HARKIN. I will not read the whole thing but I feel constrained to
read parts. He said:
I am with you. I love you. Lead on.
Dearly Beloved: Listen to the heart of this old soldier. As
with all of us the time comes when body and mind are battered
and weary. But I do not go quietly into the night. I do not
give up struggling to be a responsible contributor to the
sacred continuum of human life. I do not give up struggling
to overcome my weakness, to conform my life--and that part of
my life called death--to the great values of the human dream.
Death is not a tragedy. It is not an evil from which we
must escape. Death is as natural as birth. Like childbirth,
death is often
[[Page S6000]]
a time of fear and pain, but also of profound beauty, of the
celebration of the mystery and the majesty which is life
pushing its horizons towards oneness with the truth of mother
universe. The days of dying carry a special responsibility.
There is a great potential to communicate values in a
uniquely powerful way--the person who dies demonstrating for
civil rights.
Let my final actions thunder of love, solidarity, protest--
of empowerment.
I call for solidarity among all who love justice, all who
love life, to create a revolution that will empower every
single human being to govern his or her life, to govern the
society and to be fully productive of life quality for self
and for all.
That was written by a man who knew he was dying.
Justin continues:
I do so love all the patriots of this and every nation who
have fought and sacrificed to bring us to the threshold of
this beautiful human dream. I do so love America the
beautiful and our wild, creative, beautiful people. I do so
love you, my beautiful colleagues in the disability and civil
rights movement.
My relationship with Yoshiko Dart includes, but also
transcends, love as the word is normally defined. She is my
wife, my partner, my mentor, my leader and my inspiration to
believe that the human dream can live. She is the greatest
human being I have ever known.
Continuing to speak about his wife he said:
Yoshiko, beloved colleagues, I am the luckiest man in the
world to have been associated with you. Thanks to you, I die
free. Thanks to you, I die in the joy of struggle. Thanks to
you, I die in the beautiful belief that the revolution of
empowerment will go on. I love you so much. I am with you
always. Lead on. Lead on.
He was truly one of the most beautiful humans with whom I have ever
been privileged to associate. We shared many memorable moments
together. I was proud to be at his side when he received the Medal of
Freedom from President Clinton. But I always remember best, and forever
in my mind's eye will be embedded, him sitting there, next to President
Bush when President Bush signed the Americans with Disabilities Act.
Not many people know it, but Justin Dart, with that wheelchair and
his wonderful wife Yoshiko, visited every one of the 50 States in order
to lay the groundwork for the passage of the Americans with
Disabilities Act. And Justin knew that our work did not end with the
ADA. He knew it was just the beginning. Even just a few short weeks ago
he attended a rally I was at for MiCASSA, the Medicaid Community-based
Attendant Services and Supports Act, a bill that Senator Specter and I
are cosponsoring.
I was surprised that Justin was there but very pleased to see him
leading, as usual, even though I knew that his health had not been
good. He had to curtail many of his activities. But we had a couple of
hundred people there from the disabled community and, I am telling you,
his voice was as strong and as powerful and as persuasive as I have
ever heard, and that was just a couple of weeks ago. To the very end he
had that fire in his eyes and that strong voice.
In the final week before he passed away, Justin personally attended
four events to push for more civil rights for people with disabilities.
He never hesitated to emphasize the assistance he received from those
working with him--as you can tell from the letter I just read, most
especially his wife of more than 30 years, Yoshiko Saji. She was, as he
often said, quite simply the most magnificent human being. As in life,
Yoshiko was at his side when Justin passed away this weekend. He is
survived not only by Yoshiko and their extended family of foster
children, many friends, colleagues and relatives, but also by millions
of disability and human rights activists all over the world.
The average American may not ever have heard of Justin Dart. They may
go through their lives never having heard of him. But I will tell you
this, any person with a disability in this country who has struggled
and fought, gone to school, moving ahead in life, they will know who
Justin Dart was and they will know what he did for them and for our
country to make our country more inclusive, to bring us altogether.
So I will personally miss Justin Dart: that strong voice, the cowboy
hat and the cowboy boots, that piercing gaze of his that sort of
stripped away all the phoniness of life. When he rolled up in that
wheelchair and he got in front of a microphone and started to speak, it
was power, passion, commitment. It will not be the same in the struggle
for civil rights for people with disabilities. It will not be the same
in our struggle for MiCASSA, which we have to pass.
People with disabilities are about the only ones left in our society
where the Government decides what they are going to do with you rather
than what you do with the money. MiCASSA says that, basically the money
should follow the person--not the person following the money.
Quite frankly, it was a Georgia case in which the Supreme Court
decided that people with disabilities had to first be able to live in
the most open setting, in a community-based setting in their homes and
in their communities rather than institutions. It was a great case in
the State of Georgia.
This legislation is proposing what Justin worked so hard for--
basically to say let the person decide, let that individual decide
whether they want to live in their home and not in a nursing home.
That is what this fight for MiCASSA is all about. I am sorry we
didn't get it passed before he passed away. But I can assure you that
the fight will continue. We will not rest until people with
disabilities have all the rights that people without disabilities have
in our society.
Justin will be remembered as a person who removed all these barriers.
We will miss his passion, his sense of justice, his unwavering
leadership, and, as I said, his strong and clear voice. Justin Dart
will continue to inspire us to carry on. His message will continue to
speak for the next generation of leaders. I always said to Justin: Hang
in there.
We almost lost him a couple of years ago when his leg was removed. I
said: Justin, you have to hang in there. He always said: There are more
behind me. And there are. A whole new generation of young people is
coming up under the Americans with Disabilities Act. They have been
able to go to school, they have gotten an education, and they are
moving on. They are not going to let the clock be turned back.
I am convinced that sooner, rather than later, we will get the
MiCASSA bill passed and permit people with disabilities to live in
their own homes. We will do it in the name of Justin Dart. In his name,
we will remove the last remaining barriers.
Mr. JEFFORDS. Mr. President, I rise today to honor the memory and the
spirit of Justin W. Dart Jr., a tireless advocate for the rights of
disabled persons, who passed away on June 22 at his Washington home at
the age of 71.
I feel so privileged to have had the honor of knowing and working
with Justin. Many on Capitol Hill may remember him, in his cowboy hat,
offering critical input as we worked to draft the Americans With
Disabilities Act.
On July 26, 1990, Justin was at the side of President George Bush
when the President signed the bill into law. Justin referred to that
event as ``a landmark date in the evolution of human culture,'' and we
all have Justin to thank for his immeasurable gift to that evolution.
Justin was tireless in his travels, visiting all 50 States, not once
but at least four times, to promote the ADA legislation. He also
traveled around he world to advocate for full civil rights protection
for people with disabilities.
In 1998, he once again found himself at the side of a President, this
time Bill Clinton, who presented Justin with the Medal of Freedom, the
Nation's highest civilian honor.
It would be impossible in this short tribute to list the awards and
accomplishments that marked his life, but it is fair to say that Justin
Dart, who used a wheelchair from the age of 18 after contracting polio,
found his calling in life. And we are all much richer for the
experience.
I yield the floor. I suggest the absence of a quorum.
The PRESIDING OFFICER. The clerk will call the roll.
The legislative clerk proceeded to call the role.
Mr. DASCHLE. Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order
for the quorum call be rescinded.
The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without objection, it is so ordered.
____________________