[Congressional Record Volume 154, Number 113 (Thursday, July 10, 2008)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages E1439-E1440]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                   TRIBUTE TO RAYMOND THAYER DONOVAN

                                 ______
                                 

                          HON. JOHN B. LARSON

                             of connecticut

                    in the house of representatives

                        Thursday, July 10, 2008

  Mr. LARSON of Connecticut. Madam Speaker, I rise today to pay tribute 
to a dear friend and mentor of mine, Raymond Thayer Donovan, who passed 
away on May 10, 2008. A World War II vet and engaged civic leader, Ray 
stood at the center of Connecticut politics. I, along with the entire 
State, mourn this great loss. It is with great honor that I submit for 
the Congressional Record remarks made at his funeral by Kevin Brown and 
myself. Through these words, we remember the life and spirit of a truly 
great man.


                              Kevin Brown

       First and foremost, I'd like to thank Louise and the family 
     for the honor of being able to say a few works today in 
     remembrance of Raymond. Like so many of you, I loved him very 
     much.
       I know that Raymond would have wanted me to be brief. For 
     his sake, I will try. But it won't be easy. When Shelley 
     called and asked me to speak today she told me that the 
     family thought that I might be someone who could best tell 
     Raymond's story. Try as I might, I couldn't do it. I felt 
     like I was telling my story.
       You see, all of my memories of Raymond are about what he 
     did for me, how he helped shape my life, what he taught me, 
     and the example he set. I finally realized that telling 
     Raymond's story is so hard because it was never about him; it 
     was always about the people in his life. Raymond was the most 
     unselfish person I've ever met. For him, it was never about 
     power, recognition, success or wealth. His greatest source of 
     satisfaction came from helping others. He was never out front 
     claiming the credit. He moved through the world without 
     making any noise but his fingerprints were everywhere. He was 
     always encouraging. He made us feel appreciated and a part of 
     something.
       More importantly, Raymond had this unique capacity to gaze 
     at a room full of people and sense who was feeling left out, 
     who was drifting from the group and who needed to be touched. 
     Without us ever realizing why, he would suddenly appear as 
     you turned to leave. And he would ask you to stay, telling 
     you how smart you were, how much you were needed, and how 
     proud he was of you. And once he knew you were back in the 
     fold, he'd disappear just as suddenly and be on his way to 
     make someone else fell important and wanted. And he did this 
     without ever asking you to follow him. Quite to the contrary, 
     he'd try to convince you to lead on the promise that he would 
     follow. It was his re-assurance that made so many of us 
     confident to take such bold steps in our lives.
       In fact, of one thing I am sure: Raymond never saw himself 
     as a leader. If the truth be told, he was a shepherd. Someone 
     who guided so many people through the journey of life, 
     showing us the way and watching over us, making sure that, if 
     possible, no harm came to us. And when we stumbled or fell, 
     he was there to pick us up, dust us off and send us back on 
     our way.
       Whether it was his family or the Lions Club, the fourth 
     district, the folks at Latimere Point, his co-workers at the 
     State Capitol, or for that matter, anyone who knew him. 
     Raymond was their shepherd, that silhouette of a man off on 
     the hillside watching over us. A man who gave much and asked 
     for so little; and someone who taught us the power of 
     humility, integrity, and forgiveness.
       Being a shepherd can be lonely. Standing watch can be a 
     heavy burden. Every shepherd needs a star to guide them, a 
     point in the distance, ever true, to fix upon, to draw 
     strength from, and point the way. Raymond had Louise. She was 
     his North Star and he knew he was her knight in shining 
     armor. She was his greatest source of strength and her 
     unconditional love was his greatest reward in life. Together, 
     they helped us all endure our moments of doubt and enjoy 
     ourselves along the way.
       The last time that Raymond and I spoke was last year at a 
     wonderful memorial service that my sister held for my mom in 
     Saybrook. As always, Raymond was smiling and so happy to see 
     me. He told me how proud he was of me and what a wonderful 
     person I was. He spoke fondly of how wonderful my mom was and 
     what a great job she did raising us. This morning, I thought 
     how ironic it was for that to be the last time I'd see 
     Raymond. I realized that so many people go through the 
     journey of life and never have a shepherd to watch over them. 
     And I had two: Raymond and my mom.
       Raymond, I hope that this wasn't too long!! I tried to tell 
     your story as briefly as I could. And Raymond, I want you to 
     know I've made the journey this far with your help and 
     without you, I might surely have lost my way.


                              John Larson

       A great light went out of our lives, and created an 
     indescribable void and pang that only the warm memory of such 
     a wonderful man can console us. On behalf of U.S. Senator 
     Dodd and myself, it was an honor to fly a flag over the 
     United States Capitol in memory of this Navy Veteran, elected 
     official, and public servant. Ray Donovan's life defined 
     civic commitment, love of country, and love of family.
       My father will be gone 20 years this October. Ray and he 
     were great friends. Ray Donovan made sure in my father's 
     absence that he took time to share with me and my brothers 
     and sisters the fond memories about my father. As all of my 
     family can attest, Ray was a man of letters, a great writer, 
     and conveyor of sentimentality and the human condition. His 
     letters would always give you pause and make you reflect. In 
     those letters he never failed to mention some anecdote about 
     Dad and how proud he would be. He went out of his way to 
     honor us, by honoring the memory of our father, and his 
     friend. I am humbled to be asked to remember him today.
       I heard of Ray and Louise Donovan long before I ever met 
     them. Growing up in East Hartford, Democratic politics played 
     a huge roll. For me, they were lessons learned at my mother's 
     knee. They were, after all, the generation who elected John 
     Kennedy. . . . The Donovans were kitchen table conversation 
     at the Larson's house long before I ever met them in person.
       My mother would talk of Ray Donovan in the most respectful 
     tone. What a gentleman! What a thoughtful, intelligent man! 
     What a loyal and good friend! What patience, what a calming 
     force!
       Through Mom's eyes and words we learned of a man who seemed 
     like John Forsythe, Jimmy Stewart, and Ozzie Nelson rolled up 
     into one. He did not disappoint . . .
       Louise and Ray . . . like . . . well . . . Tracey and 
     Hepburn; Fred Astaire and Ginger Rodgers, or as we say in 
     East Hartford, Herb and Reggie; Burns and Allen; Ricky and 
     Lucy; Bill and Hillary, or Nikki and Bill: take your pick . . 
     . in East Hartford; it was Louise and Ray, the political 
     power couple of the day! Louise, unafraid to assert her view 
     and giving new meaning to the word candor, Ray, diplomatic 
     and ever gracious. They were quite a team. Whether it was 
     Democratic politics, the Lion's Club, cookouts at Latimer 
     Point, or serving the clam chowder at Bocce, they were 
     inseparable.
       They were at the epicenter of the Democratic Party in its 
     hey-day in East Hartford. I still can recall the elegance and 
     class of the dances on Founder's Plaza, under the moonlight, 
     overlooking the Connecticut River and the Hartford skyline. 
     Yet the most coveted invitation in town was the afterglow 
     party at Walter Place! What a wonderful time it was, what a 
     wonderful couple they made. If you close your eyes, you can 
     still see the gala of that night unfold. Jimmy Fitz was at 
     his zenith, Dick & Terry Blackstone, Timmy & Rosemary 
     Moynihan, Ann & Toni Fornibi, Larry & Joe Delponte, Dick & 
     Peg Torpey, Frank & Shirley, John & Ellie Fitzgerald, Gigi & 
     Tony Roberto, Ray & Pauline, Rita &

[[Page E1440]]

     Don, Julie & Herb . . . and at the center of it all, Ray and 
     Louise. I can still hear the music and laughter echoing into 
     the summer's night.
       I always got a kick out of the fact that Paul Landerman's 
     Orchestra would play at the dance and Paul Maynard, a 
     Republican Councilman, and good friend of many Democrats, was 
     playing in the band as the Democrats tore up the pavement to 
     ``In the Mood.'' It was the coming out party of the year.
       Shelley, Kevin, Sue Maynard, Paul's daughter, and I were 
     all classmates in high school when our parents served on the 
     town council. It's an awkward thing when your parents are in 
     office in some respects. It was a different time, perhaps 
     because we Democrats had a 4-1 registration advantage, but it 
     seemed like Republicans and Democrats just got along better. 
     I know for Shelley, Susan and myself, we might have given the 
     eye roll at the mention of their elected office, but we 
     respected their service and were proud of them.
       My Dad and Ray drove back and forth to work at Pratt & 
     Whitney Aircraft in North Haven for several years. They had a 
     lot in common; both were Navy Veterans serving on the 
     aircraft carriers, for my Dad, the Franklin and for Ray, the 
     Midway. Both were firefighters in the Navy, both worked at 
     tool and dye shops after the war. Both married well, and 
     their families were the center of the universe.
       They were, however, different. Ray and Raymond, the R&R 
     Express. Try to imagine riding in that car with Dad and Ray. 
     It would be like listening to a conversation between Archie 
     Bunker and Fred McMurray. Ray Donovan, more urbane, 
     sophisticated and measured; Dad, a little rough around the 
     edges. Dad preferred baseball caps, flannel shirts and 
     playing the organ at the Elks to Ray's shirt, tie and 
     occasional sweater, and service to the Lions. Ray loved the 
     dialogue, the give and take of politics, while Dad was 
     skeptical of the whole process. One thing my father wasn't 
     skeptical of, though, was the honesty and decency of Ray 
     Donovan. My father loved Ray Donovan, their companionship, 
     and their camaraderie during those trips back and forth to 
     North Haven fortified the unique bond they shared. What I 
     would give for a tape recording of those journeys. It 
     would be prime material for a Normal Lear comedy.
       I have a feeling, though, Dad was one of the first to greet 
     Ray as they embark on another journey. It's a safe bet they 
     picked up the conversation where they left off, catching up 
     on their families.
       Much has been written of their generation. Ray epitomized 
     what has rightfully been called the Greatest Generation, and 
     represents all that is rich about the lives our parents led. 
     A child of the Depression, a veteran of the World War, a 
     builder of a community, who selflessly served the Democratic 
     Party, as Forth District Chairman, member of the Board of 
     Education, the Town Council, and the Lion's Club, and the 
     V.F.W. Proud of his Irish heritage and proud to be called a 
     Democrat! Ray was a devoted husband, loving father and 
     enduring friend. I was never around him when he didn't talk 
     about his family or ask about mine.
       Ray Donovan was more than an advisor or mentor. Those well-
     meaning words don't do him justice. He led by his example. He 
     was the listening ear, the sympathetic heart, the person of 
     firm resolve and conviction, patient and willing to forgive, 
     the calm, assured inward strength that formed a constant you 
     know that was there for you.
       What he did for me and all who sought his council was lead 
     by example. No task was beneath him, no person nor cause not 
     worthy of his effort. He met everyone with a welcoming smile, 
     an outstretched hand, and always a word of encouragement that 
     was his trademark.
       He never spoke of material possession. What others saw as 
     life's benchmarks of success, new cars or homes, never 
     interested him. I never heard him speak ill of anyone, he was 
     a source of positive energy whose approval you sought and 
     wanted.
       It is said that we stand on the shoulders of other who have 
     come before us. Ray Donovan's shoulders were broad enough for 
     all of us to stand upon. Emerson wrote what most men led 
     lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with a song 
     still in them. Ray Donovan led a life that was resolute and 
     content, his song and life was one of quiet inspiration. An 
     inspiration that was contagious because it came by way of his 
     own example. I heard him say often of many people but never 
     with such pride as when he would say of Louise with a broad 
     smile and quiet satisfaction, ``Isn't that Louise 
     something.'' We pause today to say, ``Wasn't that Ray 
     something.'' We miss you. We love you. Say hi to Dad for me.

                          ____________________