[Congressional Record Volume 149, Number 74 (Monday, May 19, 2003)]
[Senate]
[Pages S6618-S6620]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
STATEMENT IN MEMORY OF MARY BOWERS
Ms. SNOWE. Mr. President, I rise today to pay tribute to one of the
most extraordinary and courageous people I have ever had the privilege
to know.
Mary Bowers was an integral and beloved member of my staff who sadly
passed away on May 3 at the age of 28. My thoughts and prayers are with
her husband, Wayne Rolland; her parents, Betty and Chris Bowers of
Hermon, ME; Mary's sister, Melissa; and her entire family who she loved
so deeply. Mary's life was all too tragically brief, but how rich it
was in experience and love--and how profoundly she taught us all about
the art of living.
On a professional level, Mary was a tremendous asset to my staff, and
I would be remiss not to recall the myriad ways in which she was the
nucleus of the office. As my Maine scheduler and Assistant to the Chief
of Staff, she was of extraordinary assistance, and it is no
exaggeration to say that through her efforts the people of her home
State of Maine--which she loved so dearly--were exceptionally well
served. Yet, it should be said that Mary's most significant
contributions sprang not from her work in my office--but instead from
the positive and irrepressible force of her presence.
I first came to know Mary as a young volunteer on my campaigns for
Congress. She was passionate even then about politics, and the role
that government and elected officials could play in securing for
America the blessings and ideals upon which our Nation was founded. In
an era when so many of our young people feel disaffected and
disenfranchised, Mary believed deeply that involvement in the process
could make a very real difference--that it was a responsibility and an
obligation in return for the fruits of freedom and opportunity provided
by the basic tenets of this great Nation.
As her high school years drew to a close, Mary sought a nomination to
the U.S. Military Academy at West Point. It was obvious by then she was
not only a bright young woman, but possessed the kind of exceptional
qualities that would make her a success both at the Academy and--even
more importantly--in life--honesty, a commitment to service, an
unassuming yet unmistakable confidence, and an intangible demeanor that
inspired others to their better nature.
Indeed, even early on, Mary embodied the essence of a leader. Later,
as a member of my staff, she always took charge without ever ``taking
over''. She would have made a brilliant Army officer--people would have
followed her anywhere, responding to the genuine persuasiveness of her
personality and the clarity of her vision.
But Mary's greatest challenge was thrust upon her while at the
Military Academy--one far greater than any obstacle course. Young,
vibrant, full of promise--she learned she had cancer. In the months and
years that followed, in all of the ways that truly count in this world,
she would meet that challenge--and in the process forever change the
lives of all who were blessed to know her.
Perhaps what was most heroic about Mary is that she never allowed
herself to be defined by her disease--yet the way in which she
comported herself while fighting her disease epitomized her very
essence--and will surely be the legacy that lives on in our hearts and
the way in which we lead our own lives.
Quite simply, Mary was a diminutive dynamo. Tiny in stature, she was
a giant in her soul. Even as cancer sapped her physical strength, she
possessed a deep, more spiritual reserve from which to draw. Certainly,
there appeared no rational explanation for her ability to muster
energy. We could no more understand how she defied the realities that
cancer imposes on the human body and spirit than we could determine how
she summoned such extraordinary courage.
During her 4 years on my staff, she endured numerous, punishing
treatments--none of which were subtle in their physical impact--even
apologizing for having to go to doctor's appointments! Throughout it
all, her attitude was unfailingly positive and gracious. Any of us
would most certainly have excused Mary for any moodiness or bristling
response, but the opportunity never arose. Rather, she was always more
concerned for others than she was for herself.
With unfailing humor, she had a way of disarming even the most
stressful of moments and deflating the small absurdities that creep
into everyday life. The treats she baked and brought into the office--
again, even when she was not feeling well--were a tangible gift from
her heart. And while the rest of us would be affected by daily trials
and tribulations of a much lesser nature, Mary was the one whose light
shined into our lives and lifted our emotions. Indeed--her lifelong
love of lighthouses was entirely appropriate, as she stood most firm
when the seas were at their roughest . . . she was a beacon of
brightness and hope . . . and her presence on the landscape of our
lives will be enduring.
Particularly in our line of work, we have the opportunity to meet a
great many people--some of high title, others who are the unsung heros
of our society. But the universe of those who truly change the course
of our own lives by their example is much, much smaller. My staff and I
will forever count Mary among those individuals.
In my own life, I have known adversity. And yet, Mary has taught me
lessons in living I had not yet fully realized. I know it is the same
for my staff--who, to a man and woman loved and respected Mary and the
example for which she stood. All of us will now be the personal
messengers of her indomitable spirit and, in turn, that part of Mary
that lives on within all of us will continue to impact the world
forever, for the better.
The measure of Mary's life will never be the crude yardstick of the
number of years on earth, but rather the number of lives she touched
while she was among us. In the words of the great American author Ralph
Waldo Emerson, ``to know even one life has breathed easier because you
have lived--this is to have succeeded.'' I
[[Page S6619]]
could not agree more, and in that light Mary Bowers was most assuredly
one of the most successful people one could ever hope to know. We love
her and we will miss her more than words have the power to convey.
I ask unanimous consent that a retrospective on Mary's life published
by the Portland Press Herald be printed in the Record, as well as a
copy of the eulogy delivered at her funeral service by my former Chief
of Staff, Kevin Raye.
[From the Portland Press Herald, May 6, 2003]
Mary Bowers, 28, Small Senate Staffer Who Made Giant Impact
(By Joshua L. Weinstein)
Bangor.--Ask Mary Bowers' husband if his wife had any
subtle ways of letting him know she loved him, and you'll
hear:
``There was nothing subtle about Mary. She just told me
that she loved me all the time.''
Mrs. Bowers, who died Saturday, was like a summer day in
Maine: clear and sunny and not with us nearly long enough.
She was only 28 when she died of ovarian cancer.
``She was courageous, she was funny and warm'' said her
boss, Jane Calderwood, the chief of staff to U.S. Sen.
Olympia Snowe. ``She's mom to all of us . . . She was really
the heart of the place.''
Mrs. Bowers doted on people, brought homemade chocolates to
work, delighted in the little things.
But she could be fierce.
She was a tiny thing--maybe 5-foot-3, on her toes--but she
had a way about her.
Before she got sick, she decided on a career in the
military. She was accepted to the U.S. Military Academy at
West Point, and studied there two years before being
diagnosed with cancer. She rallied, and landed at the
University of Maine, where she graduated with high honors in
political science.
She worked briefly with Presidential Classroom, a
Washington-based program for high school scholars, before
joining Snowe's staff, where she was state scheduler and
assistant to the chief of staff.
She was beloved in Snowe's office.
``You could tell by her eyes when she was up to no good,''
Calderwood said. ``You could tell because there would be this
glint. And if she walked into the room and she had that look,
you'd be in trouble.''
Bowers's husband, Wayne Rolland, said his wife loved her
nieces, loved her job, loved the Republican Party, loved
history, loved politics.
``One of the funny things that she used to say, and it
sounds kind of funny coming from a cancer patient, but she
used to always say, ``It's better to look good than to feel
good.' ''
Mrs. Bowers always looked good, Rolland said.
With her deep blue eyes and suits from Talbot's, maybe a
few white daisies on her desk, Mrs. Bowers had style.
She was a vegetarian who loved chocolate and the occasional
glass of wine.
She liked country music, especially Garth Brooks. She sang
in the church choir when she was a girl, and one of her
favorite gifts from her husband was a karaoke machine.
She always used to sing Brooks' ``Friend in Low Places.''
She even sang it at her wedding.
Mrs. Bowers loved the ocean, and collected lighthouses,
along with Beanie Babies and candles.
Lighthouses and candles made sense, Calderwood said.
``She was always the bright light.''
____
Eulogy for Mary Bowers
(Offered by Kevin Raye at All Soul's Congregational Church, Bangor,
Maine)
May 7, 2003
Good afternoon. Over the course of my life, I have often
stood before a congregation to help lead services. I have
often been called upon to speak in public. And like everyone
in this sanctuary today, I have often shared in joys and
sorrows with family and friends. But never in my life have
these three things converged in such a profoundly difficult
way for me as they do today.
When Wayne called me to convey Mary's request that I speak
at her funeral, I was profoundly moved. And to be honest, I
was overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. The desire to do
absolutely anything in the world for Mary, crushing sadness
that her death was now so imminent, a sense of inadequacy to
do justice to her life and her courage, and the trepidation
that I would not be able to maintain my composure at this
moment.
But despite those swirling emotions, I embraced her
request. Because finally there was something I could do for
Mary.
And because it is an honor to pay tribute to this
remarkable young woman whose strength and optimism, whose
kindness and thoughtfulness, and whose happiness and loving
nature deeply touched so many lives--more deeply than she
ever knew.
And whose penchant for taking care of others and getting
things in order never wavered. Even in her final weeks, Mary
was firmly in charge, busy organizing, checking off her list
of things to do, taking care of the details. As a co-worker
said upon learning of her death, Mary's up there organizing
heaven right now.
But even as she took care of the details, and the strength
was ebbing from her body, her first thoughts were with
others. At every juncture, she was concerned more about her
family and her friends than herself. And when visitors were
coming, she summoned every ounce of strength to be her bubbly
smiling self and lift them up.
As she said over and over to Wayne, ``It's better to look
good than feel good.'' Of course Mary would think that.
Because how she looked affected how others felt. She could
deal with feeling bad herself, but she wanted others to feel
good when they saw her.
My first memories of Mary are of the little girl who tagged
along with her mother volunteering at Olympia's campaign
office. A sweet and bright and eager and energetic girl.
Even at a young age, she knew how to get things done. Or
should I say, get her own way?
Betty told me a great story the other day. When Mary was a
little girl, it seems the family pastor had tried in vain to
get Mary's father Chris to take on some task or another. When
he declined, Mary piped up and said ``You know, Dad's a push-
over if you flutter your eyes . . . and if that doesn't work,
all you have to do is give him a kiss.''
Well, Mary saved that little tactic for her father--and
later used it with great success on Wayne. But for the rest
of us, Mary succeeded by working hard and being determined.
She knew at a very young age that she loved politics. Over
the years, and during a succession of campaigns, Mary was
there. She helped us organize lit drops, she worked in the
office, she licked envelopes, she loved politics. In fact,
she once told her mother that when she became President, she
would have her mother dust the White House and her father
trim the rose bushes.
Well not only did Mary love politics, but everybody in
politics who met her, loved Mary.
And all of us were so proud of her--her appointment to West
Point, her stellar academic accomplishments there and at the
University of Maine, where she graduated magna cum laude--and
to see what a fine young woman she grew to be.
But we were not only proud, we were humbled and awed by her
grace, her dignity, her strength, her determination, her
unwavering optimism and her enormous courage as she battled
the cancer that invaded her young body. And how she never
skipped a beat in her continued daily devotion to her family
and friends, and to her work.
After Mary had grown up, and had survived her first bout
with cancer, she moved to Washington to work for Presidential
Classrooms. As it happened, I was also there, serving as
Chief of Staff to Senator Snowe. And soon after learning that
Mary was in town, I convinced her to leave her other job
behind and come to work for Olympia.
Now, one thing that I have often observed about bright,
talented and ambitious young people, college degree in hand,
having landed their first job on Capitol Hill, is that they
are sometimes disheartened to find themselves answering the
phone or entering data, or saddled with other decidedly
unglamorous responsibilities. You won't be surprised to know
that Mary was different.
She was as bright, talented and ambitious as any young
person I ever hired in nearly two decades with Olympia.
But Mary was also determined to be the best at whatever she
did. No matter what the task, to Mary, it was important.
Whether she was taking a phone call from a veteran in
Passadumkeag, giving a tour of the Capitol to a family from
Lubec, or greeting a member of the President's Cabinet, Mary
accorded every person her full attention and her trademark
kindness, genuine interest and sweet smile.
With her extraordinary organizational skills, and penchant
for details, she did her work thoroughly and then looked
around to see what else needed to be done.
As I observed her in action, I knew Mary was exactly the
person I needed at my side to help me fulfill my
responsibilities as Chief of Staff. So I made her my
assistant--and also put her in charge of Olympia's Maine
scheduling. She literally did the work of two people, and it
was one of the best decisions I ever made.
As my wife Karen can attest, Mary's competence, her quiet
unflappability, her uncanny ability to keep track of ten
thousand things at once, and her mischievous sense of humor,
combined to make her enormously valuable to me, to my
successor who also came to depend on her, to Senator Snowe,
and--while most of them never knew her, she was enormously
valuable to the people of Maine--whom she served with a
passion and commitment to the noble pursuit of public
service.
Mary was the epitome of the old adage ``never judge a book
by its cover.'' Because this diminutive young woman, who
appeared at first blush so small and delicate, and was in
truth incredibly sweet, was also as tough as nails. She had a
quick wit; she had her own opinions; and she could hold her
own in any situation. If you don't think so, you need to see
the photograph of her running across a field during her
training at West Point, covered in mud, clutching an M-16.
Not much bothered her. In fact, on Monday, Wayne was
interviewed by a reporter for the Portland Press Herald, who
asked him many questions about Mary. After he hung up, Wayne
turned to us and said ``That guy did ask one question that I
didn't answer.''
``What was that?'' we asked.
``He asked if there is anything that really drives her
nuts. That was a hard question.
[[Page S6620]]
And I didn't answer because the only thing I could think of
was ``Yes, a Democrat.'' Quickly adding, ``But even for
Democrats, she had a place in her heart!''
Yes, that was Mary. She had her opinions, and she was
passionate about them, but she had a heart big enough for
everyone . . . and the only things that really drove her nuts
were racism and sexism, two things for which she had zero
tolerance.
On a personal level, I will always be deeply grateful for
Mary's selflessness last year, when despite her illness, her
loyal friendship brought her home to Maine to be at my side
at crucial moments of my campaign for Congress--during the
Republican Convention a year ago last weekend, and again
during the hectic final weeks of the campaign last fall.
When it was crunch time, and everyone knew I needed someone
to help keep me calm amidst the storm, it was Mary we turned
to.
Knowing Mary was a joy in every respect. Her curious mind,
her cheerful outlook and easy laugh, her grace under
pressure, her steely determination and unflinching courage in
the face of devastating illness, all combined to make this
incredible young woman one of the most remarkable individuals
I have ever met--or hope to meet--in my lifetime. They also
made her much more than a co-worker. They made her a beloved
friend--in the truest sense of the word.
And one of the joys of knowing Mary was that of getting to
see her experience the wonder of true love. For that is what
she found with Wayne.
No two people could ever have been more right for each
other. And while Mary certainly made Wayne sweat it out for a
long time before deeming him worthy of her affections, once
she made up her mind, it was a true romance.
And it was the best decision of her life, for she got a
life's partner who was there for her in every way--and who
stayed at her side, giving her strength and support and love
through every day of her life, and drawing his own strength
and inspiration from Mary.
And while their days together were far too few, they
brought each other great happiness and fulfillment.
Among the things Karen and I will always be grateful to
Mary for is allowing us to get to know Wayne, and to share in
the joy of their loving relationship, and other small joys
like our shared passion for good food--especially Indian
food. Of course, Mary's had to be vegetarian, while she
tolerated Wayne, Karen and I indulging our basic carnivorous
instincts.
And our mutual love of movies, cook-outs by the pool,
enjoying special occasions together like the Inaugural Ball,
the celebration of their long-awaited marriage, and being at
their side during the up and down fight against Mary's
cancer, and in the bittersweet journey of these last weeks.
Then, of course, there was that picture-perfect summer day
in Bar Harbor last August, when Mary and Wayne were married
at last. It was the wedding of Mary's dreams, and she was
truly a radiant and beautiful bride.
Moments before the ceremony, when most brides are a nervous
wreck, Mary took time to play ring-around-the-rosie with
Alexa and another of the littlest guests.
At the reception, she danced, she laughed, she mingled and
spent precious moments with every person there, and she
entertained everyone by singing her trademark karaoke
rendition of Garth Brooks's ``I've Got Friends in Lo-o-ow
Places.''
And in keeping with the nautical theme of the reception--so
in keeping with Mary's love of the ocean and lighthouses, and
Wayne's love of the sea--Wayne thoughtfully dubbed every
table with the name of a ship.
Ours was, of course, the State of Maine. And the Bride's
table? What else but the Queen Mary . . .
For that is what Mary was to Wayne--his Queen.
And she was able to rely on him always. His devotion to her
was unwavering and it was boundless. She never made a
decision without him, for they were partners in every way--
even against cancer.
And through it all, in all the times we spent together, and
all the discussions we had, through every hopeful sign, and
with every setback, I never heard either one of them ask
``Why me? Why us?'' They just faced every day as a team,
determined to get through it together.
That Mary found such a perfect love with Wayne was a very
natural thing. Because Mary has been surrounded by love her
entire life.
Especially Chris and Betty, the parents she cherished, and
about whom she was so concerned throughout her illness. And
if you have ever spent time with Chris and Betty Bowers, you
will understand how Mary came to be so bright and cheerful
and optimistic.
As we heard the beautiful trumpet solo of ``Rock of Ages''
a few moments ago, I couldn't help but think what rocks Chris
and Betty have been for Mary. With their frequent journeys to
Washington to be at Mary's side at crucial times in her
battle against cancer, they were a constant source of support
and love for Mary and for Wayne. And I know Mary was so
grateful that she was able to spend her last days surrounded
by their love.
And Mary took such comfort from the reassuring presence and
tender care of her beloved sister Missy, with whom she was so
very close, Missy's husband LeRoy, and such joy from time
with her precious nieces Jordan and Alexa.
She had a very special bond with Jordan, to whom Mary
entrusted the secret of fluttering eyes. Jordan used to say
``Auntie, can I move in with you and Wayne?'' And Mary would
say ``But your mother will miss you.'' And Jordan said ``But
we'd let her come visit!''
And Alexa, at a different phase in her life. So little, but
so precious in her Auntie's eyes. Mary adored them both . . .
and the feeling was mutual.
The circle of love that was Mary's family also included her
grandmother Phyllis, who is too ill to be here today, but who
faithfully traveled from Sherman to Bangor to spend time with
Mary these past weeks, and is here in spirit, as well as her
aunts and uncles and cousins, and Wayne's parents and
grandparents and other family who became her own.
And as her days neared their end, she told Wayne she was
looking forward to being reunited with her beloved
grandfathers who passed away before her. And we know now in
sure and certain faith that she is with them today, and her
other grandmother she never knew in this life.
Two summers ago, as Karen and I began building our home in
my hometown of Perry, Mary and Wayne and her Uncle Tony and
Aunt Carmel bought from us a piece of land that my aunt and
uncle had given me at my birth. At a beautiful place called
Gin Cove on the Perry shore of Passamaquoddy Bay, overlooking
St. Andrews, New Brunswick.
This spot has been near and dear to me for my entire life.
It represents a family legacy, a place where I played as a
child, learned to dig clams and experienced the joy of living
in Maine. And while I knew selling it would be a big help in
realizing the dream of building our home, I was reluctant to
do so. But seeing how much Mary and Wayne loved it, and
knowing that it would fulfill their dream of being on the
ocean, and provide us the bonus of bringing them regularly to
Perry, made it just right.
Now that beautiful spot represents even more. Its beauty is
just one more reminder of the beauty of Mary Bowers, and the
legacy she leaves us all.
On Monday, Wayne came down to Perry to his and Mary's spot
on Gin Cove, seeking peace and reflection at this place she
loved so much.
May each of us find peace--and joy--as we reflect on Mary,
and give thanks to God for sharing her with all of us these
past 28 years. And while we're at it, let's whisper thanks to
Mary for sharing her love and her spirit and her goodness
with us.
Mary, to take some liberties at paraphrasing Garth Brooks
in that song you loved to sing: now we know we have a friend
in high places.
Mary, we love you, we will miss you, and we will never,
never, never forget you, for you will be in our hearts until
the day each of us join you in Heaven.
____________________