[Congressional Record Volume 151, Number 99 (Wednesday, July 20, 2005)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages E1552-E1554]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                   IN REMEMBRANCE OF J.J. JAKE PICKLE

                                 ______
                                 

                               speech of

                           HON. LLOYD DOGGETT

                                of texas

                    in the house of representatives

                         Tuesday, July 12, 2005

  Mr. DOGGETT. Mr. Speaker, I submit the following eulogies honoring, 
J.J. Jake Pickle the Doggett Special Order.

                           (By Peggy Pickle)

       Austin, TX, June 22.--Good afternoon! Hot tamale!!! This is 
     not going to be a sad funeral. This is a celebration of a 
     remarkable life. I'm Jake and Beryl's daughter, Peggy. My 
     father asked me to speak on behalf of our family at his 
     memorial service.
       Everyone in this sanctuary knows what kind of man Jake 
     Pickle was. Most of you are familiar with his life and 
     career: born in West Texas in 1913, attended the University 
     of Texas, served in the Navy during World War II, had a 
     lifetime love affair with politics which included 31 years 
     representing the 10th Congressional District of Texas in the 
     United States House of Representatives. He had two wives, 
     three children, six grandchildren, and four great-
     grandchildren.
       He was a tolerant and demanding man. Tolerant because he 
     didn't believe in forcing

[[Page E1553]]

     his opinions on others. Demanding because he had high 
     standards for himself and those close to him.
       It is trite to say that a person left this world a better 
     place, but in his case it is true. Hardly a day goes by 
     without my being stopped and told, ``Your father helped me 
     when my Social Security benefits dried up,'' or ``When my son 
     was injured in Vietnam, Jake Pickle cut through the red tape 
     and got him home.'' What Daddy loved about serving in 
     Congress was the clout he used to get things done. He 
     considered his staff family. Together they accomplished great 
     things.
       But my assignment today is to talk about Jake Pickle from 
     the standpoint of his family. He was the fourth child in a 
     tight-knit family of seven whose values and work ethic 
     defined the rest of his life. Jake's sister Judith and 
     brother Joe and their families are in this audience, along 
     with the families of deceased sisters Janice and Jeanette. 
     The familial bonds which sustained Jake as a child taught him 
     to treat people and relationships with respect.
       Jake and Beryl both endured the loss of their first 
     spouse--my mother, Sugar, in 1952, and Beryl's husband, 
     Graham McCarroll, in 1948. In 1960, Beryl and Jake married 
     and began their own family: Jake, Beryl, Dick, Peggy, Graham 
     and a goofy collie dog named Ike. It was a semi-normal life 
     for two years--and then Jake up and announced he was running 
     for the U.S. Congress!
       Having Jake Pickle for a husband and father was an 
     interesting experience. He was gone a lot. Except in cases of 
     family emergency, work came first. He was ``On Duty'' every 
     day except Christmas, and even then if a constituent had 
     trouble. He believed that public officials are answerable to 
     The People 24-hours-a-day, so our telephone number was listed 
     in the phone book. The phone rang all the time, sometimes at 
     3 a.m., when the constituent was drunk or had an ax to grind.

       Jake loved to work the crowd. One of his favorite places to 
     eat was Luby's Cafeteria because there was that long line of 
     people whose hands he could shake. We all know Jake was tight 
     with a buck. Once he said to me, ``If you've got some money, 
     I'll take you to Luby's.''
       Sometimes Daddy worked the crowd when I least expected it. 
     One morning 20 years ago, I drove out to Dillards in Barton 
     Creek Mall to buy, of all things, a Weed Whacker. I got there 
     early so I could cut my grass before it got hot, so I was 
     there when the doors opened. I rode the escalator up to the 
     second floor, picked out a Weed Whacker, and took it to the 
     register.
       By now it was maybe 10:05 a.m., there were few people in 
     the store, and nobody but me in the appliance department. 
     When I wrote the check and gave it to the clerk, he looked at 
     my name on the check and said, ``Pickle? Are you related to 
     Jake Pickle?'' I said I was.
       ``Well by golly,'' the guy said. ``Mr. Pickle was here this 
     morning, you just missed him.''
       ``But how?'' I stammered. ``The store just opened!''
       ``Oh, he addressed our employee meeting at 8 a.m.,'' the 
     clerk said. ``Everybody ate in the lounge. That man sure 
     seems to like his job!''
       So I paid for my Weed Whacker and left. It was funny, but 
     it also gave me an eerie feeling that Daddy could be 
     anywhere, and probably was. He was always ten steps ahead, 
     with the rest of us scrambling to catch up.
       Jake was quick to make friends and quick to forgive. It was 
     a wonderful trait for a politician because he made few 
     enemies and nursed no grudges. Both Democrats and Republicans 
     voted for him and worked with him; Jake wasn't partisan, he 
     just wanted to get things done. If at times it was hard to 
     have a legend in the family, it also made us proud. We knew 
     that he was the Gold Standard. The usual temptations like 
     money, women, alcohol and power were no match for Jake's 
     addiction: work. Growing up surrounded by politics, I cannot 
     describe the comfort of knowing that no matter what nastiness 
     was abroad, I would not open the newspaper and read my 
     father's name tainted by scandal.
       Daddy was a great motivator, and not only about 
     Congressional business, but about Jake Pickle business: his 
     bees, his garden, his pear relish, his longhorns, his stumps 
     that needed rooting at Niederwald. He rallied people with 
     such enthusiasm that it was only later, when you went home, 
     that you realized your aching back and calloused hands were 
     all you had to show for his project.
       Two of Daddy's other projects concerned Christmas. For 
     years our family had a ``Hats Off to Christmas'' tradition on 
     Christmas morning, as Jake and Beryl distributed hats they 
     had gathered during the year while on junkets--oops!, I mean 
     ``fact finding tours.'' During the 1990s, Daddy, dressed as 
     Santa, arrived in increasingly outrageous ways: in Don Cook's 
     Model A Ford, in a fire truck, on a donkey, in a sidecar 
     motorcycle. He always claimed he wanted to arrive by climbing 
     down a rope ladder from a hovering helicopter, but thank God, 
     he never tried it.
       Jake didn't care much about stuff--life's fancy trappings--
     and looking ridiculous never occurred to him. In 1961, when 
     Jake had just been appointed Texas Employment Commissioner, 
     he often drove Dick's used car to work at the fine new TEC 
     office in the Capitol Complex. Dick's '52 Ford was rusty 
     gold, with a '55 front grill, '53 headlights and two bent 
     antennas, but to the new TEC commissioner, it was damn fine 
     transportation.
       Years ago in Washington, Daddy had a vivid dream in which 
     he was being chased by a bear. In his sleep, he hollered and 
     flew out of bed, cracking his head on the bedside table. 
     Beryl woke to find him holding his bleeding nose, but happy 
     he had outrun the bear. For weeks, my father went to work on 
     Capitol Hill with black eyes that faded to green and yellow. 
     Cheerfully, he told everybody about his dream--and his narrow 
     escape. I always wondered what people thought. Probably oh, 
     that's just Jake!
       He was a stickler for details, always carrying around a 
     piece of paper and a pen in his coat pocket so he could make 
     notes. It will surprise no one that he helped plan this 
     funeral. He was habitually late because he was always coming 
     from another event--and on his way to the next one. His 
     memory was phenomenal. When he ran into a constituent, he 
     remembered their name, their spouse or where they worked.
       He loved his family and friends, ice cream, a good story, 
     playing the harmonica, Christmas, the University of Texas, 
     this church, the principles of Democracy, banging on the 
     piano, the hymns of his childhood, dominoes. . . . and a 
     thousand other things. He was innately curious and asked 
     questions constantly. He was a very tough old bird. He 
     endured treatment for cancer which at his age should have 
     killed him, but he hunkered down and got through it. He won 
     remission from cancer an incredible five times. Being 
     weakened irritated him; it cut into his schedule! Right up to 
     the end, he found life interesting. Mom and Pop Pickle 
     whispered in his ear: he always tried to do the right thing.
       After my father retired from Congress, and during the years 
     of his decline, many of the people in this Sanctuary--and 
     others not present today--came to visit Jake and Beryl. If he 
     worried that once out of the public eye, he would be 
     forgotten, he needn't have. On behalf of our family, we thank 
     you. Your visits, laughter, advice and friendship meant the 
     world to them.
       My father's legacy is considerable. There are buildings, 
     schools, research facilities, an airport runway and children 
     named after him. Legislation he helped pass changed this 
     country for the better. He counted the mighty among his 
     friends, but treated no person better than another.
       But of all his legacies, the one I'm most grateful for is 
     his allowing me to be my own person. He raised me with easy 
     affection instead of a preconceived idea of how a little girl 
     should act. As an adult I have come to understand that the 
     worst thing you can do to any person, especially a child, is 
     to stifle their spirit. Jake Pickle made you want to do your 
     best. I can think of no greater accolade for any person.
       I enjoyed a 59-year relationship with my father. Because he 
     was ill for a long time and I witnessed his suffering, I've 
     already grieved for him. I do not grieve for him today. 
     Instead, I am proud of the person that he was and the life he 
     tried to live, right up to the end.
       We have other speakers today. As Daddy would say, ``Keep it 
     short. People need to get back to work!''
       Thank you for being here to help us say goodbye.

                   Eulogy for Congressman J.J. Pickle

                           (By Paul Hilgers)

       Austin, TX, June 22.--Surely you would all know that it is 
     a great honor to be asked to represent the people who worked 
     on Mr. Pickle's staff.
       Once you were on the staff, it was a lifetime appointment. 
     Whether you were on the payroll or not, it did not matter. We 
     work for him because we love and respect him.
       Like all Pickle staffers, I never knew how hard I could 
     work in one day, or how many people I could help in one day 
     until I started working with Jake Pickle.
       We are a proud bunch, those of us who worked in the 
     ``Pickle Factory'' as we called it. I would like to ask all 
     of you who served on Mr. Pickle's staff to stand. There are 
     many more who could not be here today and a few were already 
     doing advance work in heaven.
       Those who worked in his office understood the importance of 
     their job. Whether it was the District Director, the 
     Administrative Assistant who ran the office in Washington, 
     the legislative assistant, the caseworker, or the person who 
     was on the real front line answering the phone and greeting 
     people, he made you feel that what you were doing was 
     critical. He knew that it all had to work together to 
     properly serve the public. He valued the role we each played.
       We have a bond that will never be broken, built upon his 
     singular dedication to public service. It is a bond built 
     upon the common experience of knowing this very uncommon man 
     who was so proud of the service we provided together.
       We are also bound together by the great Pickle stories. 
     Now, Dr. Cunningham, I need to mention just a couple that 
     escaped your remarks about his time at the University. Like 
     the time he got caught stealing turnips from one of his 
     professor's garden. And, while he did love being in Little 
     Campus, there were stories about nailing their roommates 
     furniture upside down to the ceiling. There are so many 
     stories, way too many stories to tell.
       So, when the staffers get together, only a word or a phrase 
     is needed to spark memories of the experiences we shared: 
     squeaky pickles, the county black books, 1000 acres of 
     beautiful topsoil, the Pickle Float, full tank

[[Page E1554]]

     of gas and an empty bladder, retrieving that Stetson, the dry 
     run, the Virgil Conn story, playing the harmonica and the 
     piano, the pump organ.
       There were the annual episodes of serving Venison Chili to 
     the entire House of Representatives every Texas Independence 
     Day, or feeding catfish from the Inks Lake Fish Hatchery to 
     the Interior Appropriations Subcommittee.
       And stories about parades! Parades with and without squeaky 
     pickles, cars that worked, and cars that did not. Once, there 
     was a car with a stick shift that Ms. Pickle had to drive.
       Always a convertible so he could be seen and so he could 
     throw his pickles. Parades where he was the Grand Marshall 
     and the first car in the parade, and the one where he 
     followed the horses, after his third parade of the day.
       At the end of the parade route--Mr. Pickle would stop the 
     car, get out and walk both sides of the route personally 
     shaking every hand and handing out more squeaky pickles.
       Most of all he was fun--he was fun to be with.
       Our stories are his lasting legacy to us--which is fitting 
     because he was the master storyteller. He knew how to use 
     humor to communicate his message. He would make people laugh, 
     just before he would make them think about a serious issue 
     facing our Nation or our community.
       Staffers who took Mr. Pickle to an event were asked two 
     questions just as we arrived: (1) ``what is my key message'', 
     and (2) ``tell me something funny to say.'' We had the old 
     regulars--the Claude Pepper story, the Round Rock story, 
     Dollars for Democrats, but not a Nickel for Pickle story. 
     Many times he would turn to Mrs. Pickle for some of his best 
     material.
       We worked hard but his sense of humor made the job 
     enjoyable. But, no one worked harder than he did.
       He would start the week with a 6:20 a.m. flight to 
     Washington on Monday mornings. He would put in 15 hour days 
     in Committee hearings, holding meetings with people from the 
     District or from associations and businesses, casting 
     countless votes on the floor of the House, working the 
     phones, signing the mail, reviewing legislation, and then 
     attending 2-4 receptions before going home to Ms. Beryl.
       He would keep that schedule everyday until Friday about 
     12:00 noon when he would fly back to Austin at 5:00 p.m. We 
     would go immediately to the office where he would sign all 
     the mail that had been prepared by the District staff that 
     week. He signed virtually every piece of mail that went out 
     of his Office. This is how he kept up with what was happening 
     to his constituents.
       We would often sign the mail on Friday and see one of those 
     constituents at an event that weekend. He would tell them how 
     their case was going, or that we had just sent off the 
     letter. That made an impression on people--they knew that he 
     cared.
       He would go to Church on Sunday and we would have some 
     event that evening before I had to get him back to the 
     Airport on Monday mornings. No matter how tired I would get, 
     spending the weekend with Mr. Pickle would re-energize you. 
     His love of public service and his energy was contagious.
       He campaigned even harder! He was relentless. On weekends, 
     we would have to have three shifts of staff just to keep up!
       So many times people would say . . . he is the only 
     Democrat I ever voted for . . . or, I don't always agree with 
     him, but I always voted for him. He wanted every vote. He 
     earned every vote.
       Just one example: a person came to him and asked for help 
     in finding a job--just one of thousands who asked for help. 
     Mr. Pickle sent out the man's resume a number of times who 
     always seemed to be a finalist for the job, but without 
     success. After several months of writing letters and 
     requesting interviews, I asked Mr. Pickle one day while I was 
     driving him home if he had not done enough and why he was 
     trying so hard to help this man?
       He looked at me and said simply, ``Paul, the man asked me 
     for help. Is there any other reason that I need to try and 
     help him?'' He loved helping people.
       Mr. Pickle represented the people of Central Texas to the 
     Federal government, but he was also a representative of the 
     Federal government to the people of Central Texas. He loved 
     welcoming people from the District to Washington. No one gave 
     a tour of the Capital like a Jake Pickle tour of the Capital. 
     He took people in places where you just are not supposed to 
     go. He made the Capital come alive with its history.
       He had a vision and a love for Central Texas that no one 
     could match. He was our strongest lobbyist and he lobbied for 
     so many things in addition to UT and SEMATECH. Boggy Creek, a 
     Wildlife Refuge, airports (big ones and small ones), the 
     right of way for MoKan. He worked on behalf of the Austin 
     Housing Authority, the Boy Scouts, Veterans Outpatient 
     Clinic, IRS Service Center, the LCRA, Bergstrom Air Force 
     Base, Flood Control on the Upper San Marcos Watershed, the 
     Visitors Center at the LBJ National Park, the Gary Job Corps, 
     and literally a thousand other things for Central Texans.
       Yes, Mr. Pickle worked hard for Central Texas, but he was 
     one of Washington's most respected members of Congress. He 
     believed in having personal relationships with other members 
     of Congress . . . on both sides of the aisle. This is evident 
     by those in attendance today.
       Integrity, Honesty, Loyalty, Courage, Determination, 
     Tenacity--these are the qualities that he relied upon to 
     become a trusted legislator. These are the qualities that 
     defined Jake Pickle.
       Of all of the legislative work and votes over 31 years, he 
     took the greatest pride in one of his first: the Civil Rights 
     Act. He would get tears in his eyes every time he told the 
     story when President Johnson called him the night the Civil 
     Rights Act passed. The President demanded that Mr. Pickle 
     call him no matter what time of night so he could tell him 
     how proud he was of his vote.
       He was also proud of his work as Chairman of the Ways and 
     Means Subcommittees of Social Security and Oversight. His 
     most important legislative accomplishment was in maintaining 
     solvency of the Social Security system in 1983. He worked 
     closely with Senator Bob Dole on legislation that represented 
     a bi-partisan approach to the problem. He told me many times 
     that providing a sense of security to tens of millions of 
     Americans gave him a deep sense of pride and meaning.
       Third, was his work in the area of pensions and pension 
     reform. He could see problems in the system long before they 
     became the crisis they are today. In fact, if not for some of 
     the reforms he put into place, the crisis would be much 
     greater today. He would say pensions are not a very 
     newsworthy subject, but it was damned important to families 
     counting on them.
       The J. J. Pickle formula for success in government was 
     really very simple: a dedication to public service plus a 
     love of helping people, multiplied by a deep faith in our 
     system of government.
       He placed the highest priority on constituent service 
     because he thought the highest calling of government was to 
     help people with their problems. He was committed to being 
     responsive and accessible.
       Mr. Pickle often referred to the Congressional Office as 
     ``the big buffer'' between the individual and ``big 
     government.'' It was the place where any citizen, rich or 
     poor, democrat or republican, could come for help when there 
     was nowhere else to turn.
       Finally, Mr. Pickle had a truly unique ability to balance a 
     short-term immediate focus with his long-term vision. He 
     taught us that the best public policy always made the best 
     politics.
       Social Security legislation was to be based upon solvency 
     of the system, pension policy based on protecting the pension 
     holders not big business, civil rights legislation based on 
     justice and equal protection.
       Locally, his long-term vision included the need for inter-
     modal transportation systems, two runways at Bergstrom 
     Airport, flood control systems, public power, solar energy, 
     habitat for endangered species and protection of water 
     quality, a first class research facility at UT's Balcones 
     Research Center that bears his name.
       There is a phrase he used in some of his later speeches, 
     ``In the Shadows of Greatness''. Referring to the portion of 
     MoPac north of U.S. Hwy 183 that runs between MCC and the 
     J.J. Pickle Research Campus--he talked about how people would 
     drive through that corridor not realizing that they were 
     actually traveling ``in the shadows of greatness'' because of 
     the world class research being conducted in the buildings 
     they were passing by.
       Those of us on the Pickle staff understand a different 
     meaning for this phrase. We worked in the Shadows of 
     Greatness every day we were with him. He had an impact on 
     this world and particularly on this community that is--as he 
     predicted--already being forgotten by most.
       But, his fingerprints are everywhere. His legacy of public 
     service, of loyalty to his University, of his commitment to 
     good and responsive government has been recognized through 
     the naming of the Federal Building, the Research Center, the 
     Elementary School, the Pickle Runway at Bergstrom Airport, 
     and even a peach orchard on Town Lake.
       So, on behalf of your eternal staff . . . we will never 
     forget what you taught us. We will always celebrate and 
     treasure our time with you. My prayer is that you are 
     already--cheating at dominoes with all of your friends--
     friends who have been waiting so long for you. I am confident 
     that the quality of life in heaven just got better.
       God Bless You, Great Leader, for your service, for your 
     legacy, for giving us the opportunity work in your great 
     shadow!
       We had a great ride!!

                          ____________________