[Congressional Record Volume 150, Number 19 (Monday, February 23, 2004)]
[Senate]
[Pages S1448-S1450]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                           SENATOR JOHN GLENN

  Mr. STEVENS. Mr. President, as the days go by, I think it is more and 
more important to recognize that Senators have friends on both sides of 
this aisle. One of my great friends is Senator John Glenn and his wife 
Annie. They have been very important people in my life. I have great 
memories of times I spent with John Glenn privately.
  For instance, I distinctly remember the time John and Annie asked my 
wife Catherine, my daughter Lilly, and me to go on their boat. It is 
called the SENIRAM. Few people, other than the occupant of the Chair, 
would recognize that name, but if you spell it backwards, you will get 
the point. We had a wonderful day with them. I have had wonderful times 
throughout the years we have known each other since John and Annie came 
to the Senate.
  Recently, I had the occasion to attend a dinner in his honor. Our 
distinguished minority leader Tom Daschle was the keynote speaker. I 
think the remarks Senator Daschle made about John Glenn and his career 
were most appropriate and some of the finest I have heard.
  I ask unanimous consent that the remarks of the distinguished 
Democratic

[[Page S1449]]

leader at the dinner honoring Senator John Glenn, an American hero, on 
the 100th anniversary of the Wright brothers' first flight, Friday, 
December 12, 2003, be printed in the Record.
  There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in 
the Record, as follows:

 Remarks by Senate Democratic Leader Tom Daschle Honoring Senator John 
                                 Glenn

       From all accounts, Wilbur and Orville Wright were both 
     deeply shy. Once, at a big dinner in their honor, the host 
     gave an effusive introduction and then called on Wilbur to 
     make a speech. Poor Wilbur rose to his feet and after a long 
     stammer said, ``There must be a mistake. I think you want my 
     brother''--and quickly sat down. The host then called on 
     Orville, who replied, ``Wilbur just made the speech.'' I know 
     the feeling. What in the world do you say when you open for 
     John Travolta and John Glenn?
       This is a thrill and an honor. I want to thank Spencer 
     Dickerson, president of the Aero Club of Washington, for 
     inviting me to be a part of this incredible evening. I also 
     want to thank FAA Administrator Marian Blakey, my partner in 
     this warm-up act and a truly outstanding public servant; 
     Admiral Wesley McDonald, chairman of the National Aeronautic 
     Association, sponsors of the Wright Trophy; and Don Koranda, 
     president of NAA. And to any Ohioans who are here, thank you, 
     too. There is something amazing about a state that gives the 
     world Wilbur and Orville Wright, Neil Armstrong and John 
     Glenn.
       We are here tonight to pay tribute to a genuine, old-
     fashioned American hero--a man with whom I was privileged to 
     serve for 12 years in the U.S. Senate and who I am honored, 
     and still a little amazed, to be able to call my friend.
       We are also here to thank Annie Glenn. In his memoir, John 
     tells a great story about how hard Annie worked to overcome 
     her lifelong habit of stuttering. When she succeeded, about 
     20 years ago, she told him, ``John, I've wanted to tell you 
     this for years. Pick up your socks''--which makes Annie Glenn 
     possibly the only person on Earth who is not awed by John 
     Glenn. John may have been the one who strapped himself into 
     those rockets, but it was Annie's love, courage, and 
     unshakable faith in him that made John's space missions and 
     virtually everything else he has done possible. Thank you, 
     Annie Glenn.
       A few months ago, Linda and I got a sneak preview of the 
     incredible exhibit on the centennial of flight that's now at 
     the Library of Congress. Of all the treasures in that 
     exhibit, what fascinated us most was a letter that you'll 
     find reprinted in tonight's program. It was written in 1908 
     by Gutzon Borglum, the visionary sculptor who carved Mount 
     Rushmore out of the Black Hills of South Dakota. Linda and I 
     were surprised to learn that, in 1908, Borglum was also 
     president of the Aero Club of America--the forerunner of NAA.
       He wrote this letter late on a September night. He was in 
     Washington--still awe-struck by something he had witnessed 
     hours earlier. For the first time in his life, he had seen a 
     man fly an airplane. That man was Orville Wright.
       This is a small portion of what Borglum wrote: ``My dear 
     Ned, Well, hell's popping, the gasoline motor is in the air, 
     and man with outspread wings is astride of it! Orville Wright 
     has broken all previous records. He flew 67 minutes in a 16-
     mile wind, handled his pair of planes like a chauffeur, and 
     rode the air as deliberately as if he were passing over a 
     solid . . . road. Nothing I have ever seen is comparable in 
     action to this gliding bird, save the ice-boat.'' He goes on 
     to say, ``This is not an experiment. Man has put, safely and 
     forever, his shod heel into the blue heavens, and glides 
     about as if on ice. ``Flight,'' he predicted, ``will rub out 
     the boundaries of the world.''
       Someone said that, in that first flight at Kitty Hawk, the 
     Wright Brothers ``flew through the smokescreen of 
     impossibility.'' It's fitting that John Glenn receive the 
     Wright Brothers Memorial Trophy. And it is especially fitting 
     that he receive it tonight, just days short of the 100th 
     anniversary of the Wright Brothers' first flight--because 
     isn't that what John Glenn has done all his life--fly through 
     ``the smokescreen of impossibility'' and show us that we can 
     achieve more than we ever imagined?
       We all have John Glenn stories we plan to tell our 
     grandchildren. One of mine is from about eight years ago when 
     Linda and I traveled to China with several other Senators and 
     their spouses, including John and Annie. On our flight home, 
     we persuaded John to tell us about the Friendship 7 flight. 
     He told us about the wonder and majesty of space--about the 
     beauty of the light particles that seemed to hang in space 
     like fireflies frozen in place. He told us about the joy he 
     felt when he flew over Perth, Australia at midnight and saw 
     that the entire city had left its lights on to help guide his 
     voyage. He told us about those moments when the world held 
     its breath--when the skin of the spacecraft caught fire from 
     the friction of re-entry and began to peel off in flaming 
     pieces--and those terrible 2\1/2\ minutes when he lost all 
     radio contact with the ground.
       We all huddled around him, wide-eyed, on that flight. No 
     one moved. No one said a word.
       Another story I will tell my grandchildren took place in 
     September 1998. It was just before John left the Senate to 
     begin his last, grueling month of training at NASA for his 
     return to space. The members of the Senate held a dinner for 
     him at the National Air and Space Museum. Not only were John 
     and Annie there, so was John's entire Discovery crew.
       Before dinner, John and Annie graciously agreed to pose for 
     pictures with Senators--right next to the Friendship 7 
     capsule! Now, you may not know this, but U.S. Senators are 
     not exactly famous for their willingness to wait in lines. 
     But that night, we all stood in line and waited--happily--to 
     have our pictures taken with our hero. It's not unusual for 
     Senators to like and admire their colleagues. But John Glenn 
     is that rare Senator who inspires in other Senators feelings 
     of sheer awe.
       In his 24 years in the Senate, John's extrodinary knowledge 
     of aviation served America well. Over and over, it enabled 
     him to see essential issues instantly. I saw that ability 
     again on the morning of September 11, 2001.
       John and I were in my office in the Capitol when someone 
     told us that a plane had hit the World Trade Center. We 
     turned on the TV just in time to see the second plane hit the 
     tower. In that first, terrible moment, when the whole world 
     seemed stunned and confused, John understood the nature of 
     the horror instantly. His eyes narrowed and he said simply, 
     ``Pilots don't fly into buildings.''
       John's influence in the Senate extended far beyond 
     aviation.
       People who've been there say you see the world differently 
     from space. You see how small and fragile our world is, and 
     you are forever changed by that knowledge. That is certainly 
     true of John Glenn. He fought to protect our fragile 
     environment. And no Senator ever worked harder to prevent the 
     spread of weapons of mass destruction, especially nuclear 
     weapons. For that, we owe him our undying gratitude.
       One of the most remarkable things about John is that he 
     wears his heroism with such extraordinary modesty. Partly 
     because he'd already had enough fame and tickertape parades 
     before he came to the Senate--but mostly, I suspect, just 
     because of who he is--Senator Glenn never worried about 
     grabbing headlines. He worked quietly and diligently--with 
     Democrats and Republicans--to solve difficult problems. He 
     immersed himself in complicated but important issues--like 
     troop readiness, government ethics and campaign finance 
     reform.
       He was willing to take on what he called the ``grunt work'' 
     of government. He looked at government with the eyes of an 
     engineer and tried to imagine ways it could work better. He 
     used his position on the Government Affairs Committee to 
     fight for efficiency in government. He was the author of the 
     Paperwork Reduction Act and the lead sponsor of laws 
     requiring inspectors general and chief financial officers in 
     all federal agencies.
       He used his seat on the Senate Armed Services Committee to 
     keep America's military strong, and to advocate for our men 
     and women in uniform, and for veterans.
       He was a very good Senator. He was also a very popular one. 
     In 1974, the year he was elected to the Senate, he carried 
     all 88 counties in Ohio. In 1980, he was re-elected with the 
     largest margin in his state's history. The last time he ran, 
     in 1992, he became the first Ohio Senator ever to win four 
     terms.
       In 1985, he responded to a magazine survey of Senators. 
     Next to ``favorite book,'' he wrote, ``In election years, the 
     Cuyahoga County voter registration rolls; in all other years, 
     the Bible.'' Next to ``aspirations after the Senate,'' he 
     wrote, ``retire gracefully.'' Back then, probably not even 
     Annie imagined what he had in mind.
       Five centuries ago, Leonardo DaVinci wrote, ``Once you have 
     tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes 
     turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will 
     always long to return.'' Francis Gary Powers, the U2 pilot, 
     described the pull to return to the heavens differently. 
     After this first flight, at the age of 14, he told his 
     father, ``Dad, I left my heart up there.''
       In 1996, at the age of 75, John set yet another speed 
     record by flying his Beechcraft Baron from Dayton, Ohio to 
     Washington, DC in 96 minutes.
       In retrospect, we should have known then that something was 
     up.
       I was among a group of Senators who went to Florida that 
     day to witness our friend's return to space. Our friend, 
     Senator Stevens, was there, too.
       So much had changed in the 36 years since John's Friendship 
     7 orbit. Yet, some things were the same. Walter Cronkite came 
     out of retirement to cover the Discovery mission. The people 
     of Perth again turned on their lights to guide his voyage. 
     And we all learned once again, because of the extraordinary 
     courage of this man, that we can achieve more than we ever 
     imagined.
       Some people think there are two John Glenns: Lt. Colonel 
     John Glenn, the astronaut-hero, and Senator John Glenn. In 
     truth, there is only one John Glenn--the patriot. Love for 
     his country is what motivated John Glenn to risk his life in 
     two wars. It's what kept him in the United States Senate for 
     24 years and what prompted him, in 1984, to run for 
     President. It is what sent him into space the first time and 
     what sent him back at the age of 77. Love for his country is 
     also why he is working today on a challenge that may be as 
     hard as the putting a man in space was in 1962: teaching 
     young people to understand and respect public service. He 
     believes in his

[[Page S1450]]

     bones what he said when he announced his retirement from the 
     Senate. ``Despite all our problems--despite our sometimes 
     inefficient bureaucracies . . . and all of the other problems 
     we love to complain about--this is still the greatest nation 
     in the history of the world, and still a shining beacon of 
     hope and opportunity.''
       In July 1969, as the crew of the Apollo 11 prepared for 
     lift-off, Esther Goddard was speaking to an AP reporter. She 
     read these words from the diary of her late husband, Robert 
     Goddard, ``the father of American rocketry.'' ``When old 
     dreams die, new ones come to take their place. God pity a 
     one-dream man.'' Tonight, I thank God for giving us John 
     Glenn. By having the courage to live his many dreams, he 
     gives us the courage to live our own. Thank you, John. Thank 
     you, Annie. Godspeed to you both.

                          ____________________