[Congressional Record Volume 166, Number 132 (Monday, July 27, 2020)]
[Senate]
[Pages S4500-S4502]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]



                         Remembering John Lewis

  Mr. JONES. Mr. President, today marks the third day after a pretty 
emotional weekend for the folks of Alabama, for the folks of America.
  Earlier this afternoon, we had a ceremony in the Capitol Rotunda to 
pay our respects to the late John Robert Lewis, a true American hero.
  A native of Alabama, John grew up in the cotton fields of Pike 
County, AL, in Troy, to become one of the most influential Members of 
Congress and, perhaps, one of the most influential Americans this 
country has ever seen.
  He was a remarkable human being whose life and work are examples to 
us all. It is now up to us to carry on, to make ``good trouble,'' to 
fulfill the dream, the promise of a more equal and just nation.
  As a son of Troy, AL, John Lewis loved our country with all his 
heart, and he set out to make it a stronger, more democratic, more 
equal, more just nation for every person.
  To persevere toward that end in the face of the hate and violence he 
so often faced is a testament to the strength of both the character and 
the heart of John Lewis.
  John was a dear friend to my wife Louise and me, and we are both 
profoundly grateful to have had him in our lives.
  John's long life represented an unbroken thread from a very painful 
past to a more hopeful future. He gave us all reason to hope. More 
importantly, he gave us the courage to pursue the bright future we all 
want for ourselves and for our children and for our grandchildren.
  You know, it struck me earlier today, as we had one of the most 
emotional things that I have been a part of with John in the Capitol 
Rotunda: I was in Selma, AL, on Saturday evening--my last trip with 
John; I have had many--at Brown AME Chapel, historic Brown Chapel, for 
a service. Martin Luther King III was there. Congresswoman Terri 
Sewell, a daughter of Selma, was there. So many of the foot soldiers 
who marched with John were there. I was struck by his passion, by his 
courage, and I thought to myself: What can I say that has not already 
been said about John Lewis? The words just escaped me.
  The following day, we were in Montgomery. John took one last journey 
across the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, AL. This time, on the other 
side of that bridge, he was met again by State troopers from the State 
of Alabama, but instead of tear gas and billy clubs, he was met with 
salutes as people lined the streets, shouting: We have got this John. 
We will carry on.
  Then he went to Montgomery along the same path that they marched in 
1965 to make sure that Americans could vote, and vote easily, without 
paying a poll tax, without having to count jelly beans or guess at the 
number of jelly beans in a jar or take another kind of test.
  John marched, and he walked all the way from Selma to Montgomery. In 
Montgomery yesterday afternoon, his body was placed in the capital of 
the State of Alabama, Montgomery, which was the birthplace of the 
Confederacy, the capital of the Confederacy. He had to ride past all of 
those monuments that are along the way--and the names.
  But on that sunny afternoon, John Lewis was brought into the Capitol 
Rotunda for the State of Alabama--the first African American to lie in 
state in the State of Alabama at the capitol.
  Ironically, the last person to lie in state at the Alabama capitol 
was George Wallace. What an interesting bookend for John's life--that 
unbroken thread--from a Governor who declared ``segregation now, 
segregation tomorrow, and segregation forever,'' who instilled 
lawlessness, all the way to John Lewis, who instilled hope and love.
  John Lewis was 25 years old when he led a peaceful march across the 
Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, AL. It was in 1965. As he got to the 
other side and was met by Alabama State troopers, he had his skull 
fractured. He was called lawless. They all were. That day is now 
forever known as Bloody Sunday.

  You know, change doesn't wait for us to become settled and 
comfortable, and even if we are both of those things, it just doesn't 
allow us to look the other way when justice is on the line. If there is 
one lesson from John Lewis's exemplary life--one from so many--that we 
should heed today, it is that we should look to the youngest Americans 
to make good on America's promise and show the rest of us how to fight 
to eradicate injustice.
  When George Floyd took his last breath, it was young men and women--
White, Black, and Brown--who rose up and said enough is enough, just 
like 1965, following the death of Jimmie Lee Jackson, when John Lewis 
and others rose up and said enough is enough; just as John did as a 21-
year-old Freedom Rider, risking his life, traveling by bus throughout 
the South. The ride or march--that journey for freedom--never ended for 
him, and it can't end for any of us until we make it right.
  Although John truly believed that the moral arc of the universe bends 
toward justice, he knew that it does not bend on its own. John 
certainly did his part to bend that moral arc, but as significant as 
his individual efforts were, it was his enlistment of others to join 
him that is going to leave his lasting legacy.
  We are all here today in some measure, in some way, because we joined 
his fight for justice. No matter what side of the political aisle you 
are on, no matter where you come from, no matter what your background, 
we are all here today, in part, because of John Lewis, to join a fight 
for justice. We join because it is the right thing to do, but also 
because John showed us the way. He showed us the way by his courage, by 
his determination, and, more importantly, by his love.
  John Lewis lived to see the generation that I believe will lead this 
Nation to our ideals and to fulfill a promise to all. Like him, this 
younger generation is protesting peacefully, nonviolently. They love 
this Nation. They love this Nation as much as John, and they want this 
Nation to fulfill its obligation of equality and justice.
  Some have painted them as lawless thugs. They would be wrong. They, 
too, like John, are patriots who want America to move forward to a 
nation of equals--that long dream of a nation of equals--and move 
forward together as a nation, together as one.
  In Alabama we saw firsthand the divisions that John sought to heal 
and the violence that rose up in opposition to his peaceful efforts to 
make right so many wrongs. He loved this country so, so much. May his 
love and his moral

[[Page S4501]]

courage ripple from this place in Washington, DC, the floor of the 
Senate, the floor of the House of Representatives, from Selma and 
Birmingham and Montgomery, Portland and Seattle, Minneapolis, 
Washington--everywhere. Let the love and moral courage rip through the 
hearts of young Americans--White, Black, and Brown--to reach beyond the 
current chaos and division, just as John did, and lead us to come 
together as a community to end injustice and inequality.
  It is the young among us in Alabama and across this Nation who can 
heal what we have failed to heal in our lifetimes, no matter how hard 
John Lewis tried.
  I truly believe that with the events of the last few weeks, as John 
saw the thousands of new recruits for his quest to bend the moral arc 
of the universe toward justice, he confidently looked around and said: 
All is well. It is time for the torch to be passed. It is time for me 
to go.
  But it is not just the young in this country. As Members of Congress, 
we also have an obligation to act, to bend that moral arc toward 
justice, just as John did his entire life.
  As we begin to grapple with a world without him, we must face the 
challenges of the moment with the same grit and perseverance he 
embodied. We are charged--we in this body are charged with continuing 
the fight for justice and equality that in his life's work meant so 
much.
  John was called ``the conscience of Congress.'' May the conscience of 
all in Congress--all of us, each of us, the Senate, the House--be 
awakened by his passing to finish John's efforts to restore integrity 
to the Voting Rights Act.
  Later, after the reception today, the memorial service, the House of 
Representatives voted unanimously, by unanimous consent, to change the 
name of H.R. 4 to the John R. Lewis Voting Rights Act of 2020.
  We can talk about naming roads, and we can talk about renaming 
bridges, but if there is one thing that John Lewis would ask us to do, 
it is to pass the Voting Rights Act of 2020; restore the Voting Rights 
Act to where it is supposed to have been. It is a good bill that passed 
the House of Representatives, but it has languished over here in the 
bowels of an office somewhere. As we approach the election in 2020, we 
need to send that message that every vote in this country can count. 
Every person who is eligible should be able to vote and not only cast 
the ballot but cast it with ease, cast it at a time when it is 
convenient with them, cast it by mail in the privacy of their home if 
possible, but cast a ballot to raise the level of participation. That 
is what John Lewis stood for. That is what John Lewis meant. That is 
what we need to do for John Lewis.

  In the program here, I was so pleased that this program reprinted a 
painting of John Lewis that is housed in the Birmingham Civil Rights 
Institute. Below it is a quote from John: ``When you see something that 
is not right, not fair, not just, you have to [stand up], speak up.'' 
Speak out and find a way to ``get in good trouble, necessary trouble.''
  I have to tell you, folks--I have been here for 2\1/2\ years now, and 
there are just not enough people who will stand up and speak out when 
they see things that they know are unfair and unjust. It is our job, 
our duty. We owe it not just to our constituents but to the people of 
America to stand up, to speak out, and to get in the way, to make good 
trouble.
  It is time that we do that with regard to the Voting Rights Act. It 
is time that we do that with regard to the police reforms and law 
enforcement reforms that are out there as well that we know need to 
exist. So let's do it, folks. Let's remember John for who he was and 
know more because he was that kind of icon. He was that American hero 
who will last--his legacy will last for generations.
  Let's remember the charge that John gave us in the final passage of 
his autobiography, where he quoted the old African proverb ``When you 
pray, move your feet.''
  John gave us the charge:

       As a nation, if we care for the Beloved Community, we must 
     move our feet, our hands, our resources to build and not tear 
     down, to reconcile and not to divide, to love and not to 
     hate, to heal and not to kill. In the final analysis, we are 
     one people, one family, one house--the American house, the 
     American family.

  We must carry John with us every step of the way every day and finish 
his life's work--patriots for equality and an America that lives a 
reality closer to its ideals.
  Rest in peace, our old friend John Robert Lewis. We have many bridges 
to cross, but we got this.
  I yield the floor.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The Senator from Delaware
  Mr. COONS. Mr. President, I rise to pay tribute to my colleague, my 
friend, to our American hero who lies in state just now in the Rotunda 
of this Capitol, Congressman John Lewis of Atlanta, GA.
  Born in Troy, AL, the arc of his life is known to us all. He gave 
himself completely to the fight for the dignity of every American and 
every human being. I wanted to take a few minutes today, if I could, 
and just reflect a little bit on what made John so special and so 
different.
  There are many in this Chamber in the Senate and in the House of 
Representatives who have fought for equality and justice. There are 
many who have marched or who have sacrificed, who have fought or who 
have led in many causes over many years, but John was both fierce in 
his passion for equality and humble in his spirit, gentle and kind.
  One of the great blessings of my decade here has been to get to 
travel with a group called the Faith & Politics Institute on an annual 
congressional civil rights pilgrimage. Many Members of the House and 
Senate have done so. Through five different trips I got to travel with 
John--to Selma and Birmingham, to Memphis and Montgomery, to Charleston 
and Cape Town, to South Carolina and South Africa, to Alabama and to 
Delaware--I most treasure the memory of hosting John in Delaware in 
2015 when he came and spoke to a whole school full of eager elementary 
school kids. He spoke to a whole auditorium full of young community 
leaders and then held a townhall for a discussion about equality and 
equity and civil rights.
  John dedicated his life to fighting for others and principally 
fighting for voting rights. When John, in his childhood, was confronted 
with the ugly reality of Jim Crow and the legal segregation of 
apartheid in the United States, he couldn't follow the advice he was 
given by family and friends to ``stay out of trouble. Don't get in the 
way.'' He lived his life by the credo: If you see something wrong, act 
like it. He was dedicated to getting ``into good trouble,'' into 
``necessary trouble,'' and into doing the hard work of redeeming the 
soul of America.
  Long before America came to believe in John Lewis, he believed in the 
promise of America. That he today lies in state on the catafalque that 
also held the remains of the slain President Abraham Lincoln; that he, 
this week, will lie in state in the State capital of Alabama; and that 
he will be honored by millions nationwide and worldwide is just a 
reminder that he was on the right side of history all along. He was 
arrested more than 40 times in the course of his activism for civil 
rights, and he proved that courage, as has been often said, is not the 
absence of fear but the triumph over it.
  With many others, I had the blessing of being at the Edmund Pettus 
Bridge with John on several reenactments of that memorable Bloody 
Sunday march and was with him at Brown Chapel AME Church for a service 
of inspiration, gathering before that reenactment of the march. He 
stopped halfway across the bridge and asked each of us to just take a 
moment and pause at the bridge, which has a crest to it. He recounted 
how, as they cleared that crest, this line--two by two--of peaceful 
protesters, marchers seeking to go from Selma to the State capital to 
make their plea for access to that most fundamental of rights in our 
democracy--the ballot box--he could see that line of State troopers, of 
deputies, and a ragtag crowd of those who had gathered to do violence 
to those protesters and marchers. He was not gripped with fear. He was 
determined to go ahead even though he said he was certain that might be 
his last day.
  You see, John is someone who understood the redemptive power of 
suffering, someone whom I described as a living saint, someone who was 
willing

[[Page S4502]]

to take onto himself the violence visited upon millions of others in 
sustaining the brutality and the repression of racial segregation in 
our country. And by taking on and believing in and living a philosophy, 
a theology, an activist stance of nonviolence, John brought alive the 
conscience of a nation.
  I will just say that in my own life, John was someone who made me 
believe in the possibility of forgiveness, of redemption, and of 
healing. If a man who had suffered as he did at the hands of so many 
bigots, so many acts of violence and disrespect, from the lunch counter 
sit-ins, to the freedom riots, to that march on Bloody Sunday; if that 
man could be as hopeful, as kind, as generous in spirit, and as 
forgiving as he was to all who met him, holding on with fierceness to 
his commitment to justice and equality, yet openhearted and openhanded 
to all he met; if that man could have walked among us, then I am one 
step closer to believing in the possibility of forgiveness for us all.
  I want to express my deepest condolences to his son, John Miles 
Lewis, and his family and to all who knew and loved and served with 
him. It is my hope that his legacy will be a blessing, a challenge, and 
an inspiration for every American.
  There is now on the floor of this Senate the Voting Rights 
Advancement Act, renamed for John Lewis. On the 50th anniversary of the 
march across the Edmund Pettus Bridge, I carried a copy of that exact 
bill of that Congress, named the ``John Lewis Voting Rights Restoration 
Act,'' and asked a number of my colleagues if they would join in 
cosponsoring it. One Republican did--a Senator from Alaska--and many 
Democrats. What matters is not the party but the purpose.
  I will close by saying that we should never give up on John's pursuit 
of a more fair and equal America
  Mr. President, I was going to proceed to make remarks on another 
individual, but I will gladly yield to the majority leader.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The majority leader.
  Mr. McCONNELL. I thank my friend, the Senator from Delaware.