[Congressional Record Volume 163, Number 85 (Wednesday, May 17, 2017)]
[Senate]
[Pages S2996-S2997]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
National Police Week
Mr. COTTON. Mr. President, over the weekend I heard a story I wanted
to share with everyone here today. The story goes that there were three
candles burning on a porch right across the street from the Cornwell
Funeral Home in Dardanelle, AR--my hometown, just a couple blocks away
from my home. A family had lit them in the memory of the three people
who were brutally murdered last week in Chickalah, just a few miles
outside of Dardanelle.
One of those slain was Lieutenant Kevin Mainhart of the Yell County
Sheriff's Department, who was killed after he stopped a man wanted in a
domestic disturbance. In honor of his 5 years of service to Yell
County--on top of the 20 years of service he rendered to the West
Memphis Police Department--his fellow officers escorted in their
cruisers the white hearse carrying his body from the State crime
laboratory in Little Rock back to Dardanelle.
The family across the street had lit a green candle, specifically for
Lieutenant Mainhart, and the three candles burned all the night. But as
the hearse pulled into the funeral home, the green candle suddenly went
out.
You could say that it was nothing more than a strange coincidence,
but I think there is something especially poignant about the sudden,
tragic loss of Lieutenant Mainhart's life so close to National Police
Week, which began on Sunday. Like that green candle, Lieutenant
Mainhart lit up his community, and, like that flickering flame, his
life was too brief.
Like every American this week, I wish to pay my respects to
Lieutenant Mainhart and the noble profession he chose. One of the
things which struck me about Lieutenant Mainhart's death was that it
came so early in the morning. The stop occurred at 7:18 a.m. He had the
whole day and his whole life in front of him.
He was only 46 years old, but he had made the most of his time on
this Earth. He was a husband, a father, an Air Force vet, a beloved
member of our community. Hundreds of people don't line the streets for
just anybody. Yet, in a moment, he was gone--his family bereft, our
community in mourning. It is a reminder of how precious and fragile
every life really is.
It also goes to show just how brave every police officer really is,
because this is the risk they take every morning. They put on the
uniform, they kiss their families good-bye, and they go to work, never
fully certain they will get home that night. Yet the ever-present
threat of death doesn't hold them down. It doesn't hold them back. It
doesn't dim the brilliance of their service. They give it their all,
day after day, without giving it a moment's thought. That, to me, is
the ultimate sign of character--when you do the right thing without
even thinking about it.
People like this are hard to come by. The sad truth is, we need a lot
of them. A free country always does, because there is no freedom
without security. We are so used to this basic fact--that for most of
us, most of the time we are safe--that we forget how remarkable it is.
Not so many people on God's green Earth can take that safety for
granted. We often forget what it takes to secure it. We forget how
easily we can lose it--and lose men and women like Lieutenant
Mainhart--in an instant.
It is with this in mind--this grave understanding of what our safety
requires--that I once again speak against continued efforts to water
down Federal sentencing laws. I thought this ill-advised idea had
expired last year, especially after Donald Trump's election. But
advocates for criminal leniency are at it again, even though violent
crime continued to rise in our cities for 2 years straight, and law
enforcement officers are being killed in the line of duty.
I have already made my position clear. If we want to take a second
look at punishments for first-time drug possession, let's do that. But
we should know that fewer than 500 people are in Federal prison for
such offenses. If we want to clean up our prisons, rehabilitate felons,
and help them achieve redemption, by all means, let's do that, too. I
would even consider a bill to speed up review of inmates' applications
for pardons and commutations, to help the President exercise this
constitutional authority. But we should not--we should not--lower
mandatory minimums for violent crimes, repeat offenders, and drug
trafficking. There is nothing compassionate about putting the lives of
innocent people--and our law enforcement officers--at risk.
Lieutenant Mainhart isn't the only one. There were three police
officers killed in the line of duty last year in Arkansas: Robert
Barker in the McCrory Police Department, William Cooper in the
Sebastian County Sheriff's Office, and Lisa Mauldin in the Miller
County Sheriff's Office. Every one of these losses was too steep a
price to pay, and unwise criminal leniency policies put at risk their
fellow officers and our communities.
I know it is considered old-fashioned to be tough on crime--or, even
worse, cold-hearted and mean. But a man doesn't put a lock on his door
because he hates those on the outside. He does it because he loves
those on the inside--his wife, his kids, all his family--because they
are the joy of his life. The men and women of law enforcement don't
just protect their own families--they protect all of our families.
Every day those men and women put their lives on the line for their
fellow citizens. The least we can do is to stand behind them and
support them, both for the work they do and for the lives they lead.
I yield the floor.
I suggest the absence of a quorum.
The PRESIDING OFFICER. The clerk will call the roll.
The senior assistant legislative clerk proceeded to call the roll.
[[Page S2997]]
Ms. KLOBUCHAR. Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order
for the quorum call be rescinded.
The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without objection, it is so ordered.