[Congressional Record Volume 162, Number 177 (Thursday, December 8, 2016)]
[Senate]
[Pages S6849-S6850]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                         TRIBUTE TO HARRY REID

  Mr. McCONNELL. Mr. President, it seems like any speech about the 
Democratic leader requires a mention of Searchlight, NV. There is a 
reason why that is. You cannot begin to understand the man until you 
understand where it all began, and here is where it began--a tiny 
mining town at the southern tip of Nevada. One teacher. Zero indoor 
plumbing. Miles of desert. That is Searchlight, at least the 
Searchlight Harry Reid knew when he was growing up. It is the kind of 
place where you might learn to drive at 13 or spend your summer roping 
cattle with a cowboy named ``Sharky.'' In fact, if your name is ``Harry 
Reid,'' that is exactly what you did.
  Harry grew up in a tiny wooden shack with a tin roof. He hitchhiked 
more than 40 miles to school and had a father who toiled in the hard 
rock mines. It goes without saying this was not an easy life. It taught 
some tough lessons, but Harry had his escapes. He found one in the snap 
and crackle of his radio.
  Searchlight didn't exactly have a radio station of its own, but every 
now and then, Harry could pick up a faint signal from California. 
During the regular season, it carried his favorite baseball team, the 
Indians. He can still rattle off Cleveland's 1948 roster. Just ask him.
  Harry himself played some baseball. He was the catcher in high 
school, and during his sophomore year, Harry's team was crowned Nevada 
State champions. Later, after a close game on the California coast, his 
team won the Nevada-Arizona-California tristate playoffs as well. Harry 
still treasures the big white jackets each member of the team received, 
not because, understand, he was the best player on the team--Harry says 
he wasn't--but because of what that jacket represented: his hard work, 
his contributions, his worth.
  Like many young men, Harry once dreamed of a life in the majors, of 
cheering crowds and Commissioner's Trophies. So did I. I wanted to 
throw fastballs for the Dodgers. Harry wanted to play center field at 
Fenway. We wound up as managers of two unruly franchises instead.
  As the leaders of our parties, we are charged with picking the 
batting order, controlling the pitch selection, and trying our best to 
manage 100 opening-day starters. It isn't always easy. As Harry has 
often pointed out, baseball represents a nice reprieve from the serious 
work of the Senate. So no matter how contentious the issue before us, 
we try to put politics aside--at least briefly--to trade our views on 
the Nats and Bryce Harper. Harry is probably looking forward to having 
even more time to dedicate as a fan of the sport and never having to 
miss another game because of votes.
  But if there is one thing Harry loves more than baseball, it is his 
wife Landra and the family they built together. When Harry first met 
Landra Gould, the two of them were in high school, and Harry was hardly 
conflicted about his feelings for her. He recalled:

       She looked like she belonged in the movies. She was smart 
     [too]. And she'd been places. Out of my league, that's for 
     sure.


[[Page S6850]]


  But if there is one thing we know about Harry, he doesn't give up 
easily. It wasn't long before the two of them were heading off on their 
first date. As many dates do, it started with a movie and ended--as no 
dates do--with Landra push-starting his car. Harry worried, as many of 
us might, that this could well be their first date and their last date. 
But then he looked over at Landra. She smiled as she pushed along 
beside him. He said it was the kind of smile that said: Who cares about 
the car? I am with you. It was a smile that has stayed with him ever 
since. Harry said: ``There are moments that turn a life . . . that stay 
with you until the last breath, [and] this was one of those moments for 
me.''
  The Reids have never been strangers to pushing through challenges. 
They have confronted a lot over nearly six decades in marriage. But 
hand in hand, sweat on the brow, they have always moved forward 
together. Through it all, Landra has never stopped smiling and Harry 
has never stopped counting every lucky star for Landra. His idea of the 
perfect night out is still a quiet night in with her. Landra is his 
confidant, his high school sweetheart, and his best friend. She is his 
everything. For a guy who grew up with nothing, that is something.
  Harry Reid didn't have an easy childhood. He faced tragedy from a 
young age. There were times when he just wanted to leave Searchlight 
and never look back, but these experiences helped shape him too. This 
is a guy who has seen it all. He has been on the wrong side of 
electoral nail-biters, and he has been on the other side of them too. 
He even won a primary against somebody named ``God Almighty.''
  Harry will now retire as the longest serving U.S. Senator from his 
State with some three decades of Senate service behind him. It is clear 
that Harry and I have two very different world views, two different 
ways of doing things, and two different sets of legislative priorities, 
but through the years we have come to understand some things about one 
another, and we have endeavored to keep our disagreements professional 
rather than personal. We have also found some common ground through 
baseball.
  I hardly know what it is like to serve here without Harry--he came 
into office just a couple short years after I did--but I do know this: 
Come next month, you will know where to find him. He will be right next 
to Landra, writing new chapters, making new memories, and continuing a 
love story that began with a smile more than 50 years ago.
  Today the Senate recognizes the Democratic leader for his many years 
of service to Nevada, to the country, and to his party. We wish him and 
Landra the best as they set off on their next journey.

                          ____________________