[Congressional Record Volume 166, Number 203 (Wednesday, December 2, 2020)]
[Senate]
[Pages S7146-S7148]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]



                         Farewell to the Senate

  Mr. ALEXANDER. Mr. President, I thank my friend Mitch, and I thank my 
friend Chuck for their remarks. I will have more to say to them later.
  On March 9, 1967, Senator Howard H. Baker, Jr., the newly elected 
Senator from Tennessee, made his maiden address, his first speech on 
the floor of the U.S. Senate. He spoke for too long.
  The Republican leader of the Senate, who was also Baker's father-in-
law, Senator Everett M. Dirksen, walked over to congratulate him and 
then said, ``Howard, occasionally, you might enjoy the luxury of an 
unexpressed thought,'' which is good advice for a farewell address as 
well.
  As Senator Baker's legislative assistant, I was also his speech 
writer for that maiden address, or at least I thought I was. He had 
developed a bad habit of not saying what I wrote for his speech. So I 
asked to see him, and I said: Do we have a problem with our 
relationship?
  He said: No, we have a perfect relationship. You write what you want 
to write, and I will say what I want to say.
  I learned a couple of other things about ``saying what I want to 
say.'' One came from Alex Haley, the author of ``Roots,'' who heard me 
speak once and called me aside afterward and said: May I make a 
suggestion? He said: If, when you begin a speech, you would start by 
saying, ``Instead of making a speech, let me tell you a story,'' 
someone might actually listen to what you have to say.
  And then, from David Broder, who gave this advice to Ruth Marcus when 
she got her column for the Washington Post: one idea per column.
  So here is a story about my one idea for this speech.
  In August of 1968, Senator Baker was in the Republican leader's 
office, where Senator McConnell is today. He overheard this 
conversation. Senator Dirksen was saying:

       [No,] Mr. President, I cannot come down and have a drink 
     with you tonight. I did that last night and Louella is very 
     unhappy with me.

  About 30 minutes later, there was a commotion out in the hall, and in 
the door of the Republican leader's office came two beagles, three 
Secret Service men, and the President of the United States. And Lyndon 
Johnson said to Everett Dirksen: ``Everett, if you won't come down and 
have a drink with me, I'm here to have one with you.'' And they 
disappeared into the back room.
  Later that same year, around a long table, in that same office, the 
Democratic President and the Republican leader worked out the Civil 
Rights Act of 1968. It took 67 votes to break a filibuster, but when 
the bill passed and Johnson signed it, the Senators who voted no went 
home and said: It is the law. We have to accept it.
  And it still is today, along with many other civil rights laws.
  So that is the one idea I have for this speech. Our country needs a 
U.S. Senate to work across party lines to force broad agreements on 
hard issues, creating laws that most of us have voted for and that a 
diverse country will accept.
  In the 1930s, we needed a Senate to create Social Security; after 
World War II, the United Nations; in the 1960s, Medicare; in 1978, to 
ratify the Panama Canal Treaty; in 2013, more recently, to tie interest 
rates for student loans to the market rates, saving student borrowers 
hundreds of billions of dollars in the last several years; in 2015, to 
fix No Child Left Behind.
  That bill had 100 alligators in the swamp. The Wall Street Journal 
said, when we finished, that it was the largest evolution of power from 
Washington to the States in 25 years. When President Obama signed it, 
he said it was ``a Christmas miracle'' because, in the end, 85 Senators 
voted for it. In 2016, as Senator McConnell mentioned, there was the 
21st Century Cures Act, moving medical miracles faster to patients and 
into doctors' offices. That bill ran off the track every 2 or 3 days. 
On one of those days, I called the Vice President, Joe Biden. I said: 
Joe, I am stuck in the White House. I have the President's personalized 
medicine in this. I have your Cancer MoonShot. Senator McConnell's 
regenerative medical proposal is in it. Speaker Ryan has worked out a 
way to pay for it. But I can't get the White House to move. I feel like 
the butler standing outside the Oval Office with a silver platter, and 
nobody will open the door and take the order.
  And Joe Biden said: If you want to feel like the butler, try being 
Vice President.
  Well, in the next few weeks, the Senate rules literally forced us to 
come to an agreement, and, in the end, we almost all voted for it. 
Senator McConnell said then, as he said today, it was ``the most 
important legislation'' of that Congress. And, today, it is helping to 
create vaccines and treatments in record time. Then, in 2018, there was 
a once-in-a-generation change in the copyright laws to help songwriters 
be fairly paid; this year, the Great American Outdoors Act. Everyone 
agrees that it is the most important outdoor and environmental bill in 
50 years.
  All of that took a long time, a lot of palavering, many amendments, 
many years. Too many years, civil rights advocates, students, patients, 
songwriters, and conservationists would say. But the point was that 
those bills didn't just pass. They passed by big margins. The country 
accepted them, and they are going to be there for a long time, and most 
of them were enacted during divided government, when the Presidency and 
at least one body of Congress was of different political parties.
  That offers an opportunity to share the responsibility or the blame 
for doing hard things, like controlling the Federal debt. That is why 
our country needs a U.S. Senate, to thoughtfully and carefully and 
intentionally put country before partisanship and personal politics, to 
force broad agreements on controversial issues that become laws that 
most of us will vote for and that a diverse country will accept.
  Nearly 60 years ago, I had traveled from my home in the mountains of 
Tennessee to New York University's Law School in Manhattan, on 
Washington Square. It was my first trip ever to New York City, and I 
had asked for a roommate whose background was as different from mine as 
possible. One of those roommates turned out to be a tall skinny guy 
from New Jersey. When I would go to his home in New Jersey and spend 
the night--his mother was a seamstress and his dad was a contractor; 
they were Italian immigrants--his mother would become so concerned 
about my frayed collar on my one white dress shirt that she would turn 
it while I slept.
  Years later, that roommate, Paul Tagliabue, invited me to go to the 
Italian American Dinner here in Washington. They were bursting with 
pride

[[Page S7147]]

for the Italian-American heritage at that dinner: cheers for Scalia, 
the Justice, and for Pelosi, the Congressman, and for Stallone, the 
actor, and for Tagliabue, the National Football League Commissioner. 
But what struck me was, as proud as they all were of their Italian 
heritage, they were most proud to say: We are all Americans.
  Ken Burns, whose films tell the story of who we are, reminds us that 
the late Arthur Schlesinger once wrote that our country needs less 
``pluribus'' and more ``unum,'' and the fact that we have attracted 
people from everywhere in the world has made our country richer and 
stronger, but it is more important and a greater achievement that we 
have combined all of that diversity into one country. That is why the 
motto above the Presiding Officer's desk is not one word--``pluribus.'' 
It is ``e pluribus unum''--out of many, one.
  More than ever, our country needs a United States to turn 
``pluribus'' into ``unum,'' to lead the American struggle to forge 
unity from diversity.
  Now, some advocate operating the Senate in a different way: End the 
filibuster--the Senate's best-known tradition. In the movie ``Mr. Smith 
Goes to Washington,'' he calls it ``the right to talk your head off.'' 
They say: Don't worry about party lines. Pass everything with a 
majority vote.
  Presidents would like that. They have said so. They would get their 
way more easily if we allow the passions to roar through the Senate 
like they roar through the House of Representatives. So if the 
Democrats are in charge, we could abolish every right-to-work law, 
repeal all limits on abortion, and pass restrictions on guns. That is 
very appealing for the moment, but what about if the train roars in the 
other direction and Republicans say: Let's impose a right-to-work law 
on every State and pro-life laws and gun rights laws.
  Is such back and forth and back and forth what we really want as a 
country? The Framers didn't think so. They created this cooling saucer 
for those passions that Washington talked about, and the filibuster--
``the right to talk your head off''--is the preeminent tool we use to 
force broad agreements on tough issues that most of us will vote for 
and that the country could live with
  Alexis de Tocqueville, the remarkable young Frenchman who wandered 
through our country in 1831 and 1832 and who wrote the best book yet on 
democracy in America, saw two great dangers for our future: One, 
Russia; and, two, the tyranny of the majority.
  Ending the filibuster will destroy the impetus for forcing the broad 
agreements I have been talking about, and it would unleash the tyranny 
of the majority to steamroll the rights of the minority.
  Well, you may say that the Senate isn't solving some big problems, 
and you would be right. We are not even voting on some big problems. 
Sometimes it is because the majority doesn't bring it up, and sometimes 
the minority obstructs. If a carbon tax is a good idea, why aren't we 
voting on it? Or if we want to help the DACA kids, why aren't we voting 
on it? Or if the Federal debt is out of control, why aren't we voting 
on it?
  It doesn't take a genius. It doesn't take a genius to figure out how 
to gum up the works in a body of 100 that operates mostly by unanimous 
consent. But here is my different view of why we are here. It is hard 
to get here. It is hard to stay here. And while we are here, we might 
as well try to accomplish something good for the country. But it is 
hard to accomplish something if you don't vote on amendments.
  Lately, the Senate has been like joining the Grand Ole Opry and not 
being allowed to sing. It is a real waste of talent. Think about this 
body. Over the years, we have had astronauts, former Governors, Supreme 
Court law clerks, military heroes, turnaround CEOs. We even had one of 
us who ran the Olympics. A group of that much talent ought to 
accomplish a lot more, and you don't have to eliminate the filibuster 
to accomplish a lot more--meaning, restore the Senate to a time when it 
was working across party lines more often to solve big problems.
  Not so long ago, the Senate worked Monday through Friday, considered 
hundreds of amendments. Most votes were by majority, and conferences 
worked out broad agreements. That was under the existing rules. Let me 
say that again. That was under the existing rules. So the Senate 
doesn't need a change of rules. It needs a change of behavior, and the 
behavior to change first is to stop blocking each other's amendments. 
If you are against it, vote no. Why stop the entire body from even 
considering it? Why join the Grand Ole Opry if you don't want to sing? 
I guarantee you that if 15 to 20 Democrats and 15 to 20 Republicans 
decided they wanted to change that practice, they could do it.
  Some Governors don't like being a U.S. Senator, but not me. The jobs 
are different. Both jobs cause you to want to see an urgent need, 
develop a strategy to deal with it, and then try to persuade at least 
half of the people that you are right. But the Governor's job is more 
like Moses. You say: Let's go this way. The Senator's job, if you want 
to get something done, is more like a parade organizer. You pick the 
route, you recruit the marchers, you select the music, you even pick 
the drum majors sometimes, and then you march in the middle of the 
parade and hope it doesn't run off the road more than a half dozen 
times on the way to where it is going.
  I love the traditions of the Senate, the hard marble floors, the 
elaborate courtesies, Barry Black's prayers, and scratching my name 
beside Howard Baker's and Fred Thompson's names in this desk drawer.
  I have made a lot of friendships in the Senate. My best friendship 
began at a softball game between Senator John G. Tower's staff of Texas 
and Senator Baker's staff, in the summer of 1967, when a 21-year-old 
Smith College graduate named Honey slid into first base wearing red 
shorts.
  I was not only surprised but captivated, and 18 months later we were 
married. And for 52 years she has been an unselfish and caring wife, 
mother, campaigner, and advocate for families and children, especially 
her own.
  In 1969, as the leader mentioned, Senator Baker said to me: You ought 
to get to know that smart, young legislative assistant for the new 
Kentucky Senator, Marlow Cook. That smart, young legislative assistant 
was Mitch McConnell, and it began a half century of friendship.
  Mario D'Angelo, in the barbershop here, first cut my hair in 1977 
when I came up for 3 months to work with Senator Baker when he was 
suddenly elected Republican leader.
  Some of my experiences in the Senate haven't been so friendly, such 
as my confirmation hearing in 1991, when Senator Metzenbaum of Ohio 
said: Governor Alexander, I have heard some very disturbing things 
about you, but I don't think I'll bring them up here. And he then put a 
hold on my nomination for 2 months, until I was mysteriously confirmed 
late one night--and I still don't know how.
  Back then I found a new way to make friends among Senators when I 
went to the Republican retreat, and they said: If you will stop talking 
and play the piano, we will support Bush's education program. So I did, 
and they did.
  I have strengthened friendships in the so-called ``inner sanctum'' 
that Chuck Schumer and I resurrected downstairs. It provides a private 
space for Senators to have a snack and a conversation.
  One-third of this body, of the Senators and their spouses, have come 
to the Smoky Mountains to be guests of Honey and me in our home for the 
weekend. We don't talk about politics much there. We talked about lost 
hikers and told bear stories.
  And I have even learned here how to count--how to count my friends. 
In 2006 I wrote 27 thank-you notes for 24 votes when I lost the race by 
1 vote to be the Republican whip. Having learned to count, I got to be 
the Republican conference chairman. I enjoyed that, but 9 years ago I 
left to focus on issues that I cared the most about. Since then I have 
done my best to leave footprints that I hope are good for the country: 
fixing No Child Left Behind and 21st Century Cures and simplifying 
FAFSA, working with Patty Murray--Michael Bennet was there at the start 
for the FAFSA; working with Dianne Feinstein in building up our 
National Laboratories and supercomputing; joining the bipartisan parade 
of Portland and Warner and Gardner and King and Manchin and Daines and 
Heinrich and Burr and Cantwell that created the Great American Outdoors 
Act; the law

[[Page S7148]]

to help songwriters; working with Murray and Jones and Tim Scott on 
permanently funding Black colleges; with Blunt and Shelby on the shark 
tank of the National Institutes of Health, creating new diagnostic 
tests, new ways; with Burr and Durbin and Manchin and King on the 
student loan law I mentioned; with Casey and Enzi on the Perkins Act; 
with Harry Reid and Bill Frist, when they were leaders, on the America 
COMPETES Act.
  None of this could have been done without an exceptional staff. But 
instead of thanking them in a rushed way now, I am going to make a 
separate ``salute to the staff'' speech tomorrow. Maybe I will start a 
tradition.
  My favorite time in the U.S. Senate has been with the American 
history teachers whom I invite to come to the Senate floor before it 
opens while they are attending the academies that were created by the 
legislation I introduced in my maiden address 18 years ago.
  After that address, Ted Kennedy, without my knowing it, went around 
and got 20 Democratic cosponsors. In the House, Roger Wicker and Marsha 
Blackburn helped pass the bill there, where they were then.
  The teachers who come to the floor before we open invariably go to 
our desks. They try to find Daniel Webster's desk. They look for the 
Kennedy brothers' desk. They ask, ``Where is Jefferson Davis's 
desk?''--Jefferson Davis, who resigned the Senate to become President 
of the Confederacy--because they have heard the story that there is a 
chop mark on the desk that was imposed by a Union soldier when they 
captured Washington. The soldier was chopping the desk until his 
commander said: Stop that. We are here to save the Union, not to 
destroy it.
  Invariably a teacher will ask: Senator, what would you like for us to 
take back to our students about being a U.S. Senator?
  My reply is always the same: Please suggest to your students that 
they look at Washington, DC, as if it were a split-screen television. 
On one side are the confirmation hearings and the tweets, and on the 
other side you have Democratic and Republican Senators working together 
to strengthen national defense, National Laboratories, national parks, 
and the National Institutes of Health.
  Please remind them of what a remarkable country this is: the 
strongest military, the best universities, producing 20 percent of all 
the money in the world for just 4 percent of the people. Tell them we 
are not perfect, but, as our Constitution says, we are always working 
to form a more perfect union and that, as Samuel Huntington wrote, most 
of our arguments are about conflicts among principles with which most 
of us agree, and most of our politics is about disappointments in not 
being able to reach the noble goals we set for ourselves, such as all 
men are created equal.
  The late NAACP President Ben Hooks used to teach his University of 
Memphis students, ``America is a work in progress. We've come a long 
way, and we have a long way to go.''
  Please remind your students that the rest of the world wishes they 
had our system of government and that the U.S. Senate has been and I 
hope continues to be the single most important institution that helps 
to unify our country by creating broad agreements that most of us can 
vote for and that the citizens of the United States will accept.
  Finally, please tell them that I wake up every day thinking I might 
be able to do something good to help our country and that I go to bed 
most nights thinking that I have. Please tell them that it is a great 
privilege to be a U.S. Senator
  I yield the floor.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The Senator from Tennessee.