[Congressional Record Volume 171, Number 108 (Tuesday, June 24, 2025)]
[Senate]
[Pages S3499-S3500]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
Maiden Speech
Mr. HUSTED. Mr. President, good afternoon. My name is Jon Husted, and
I have the distinct honor of serving the great State of Ohio as one of
its U.S. Senators.
Over the past 25 years, I have been blessed to serve the people of
Ohio as a State representative, speaker of the house, secretary of
state, and most recently as Lieutenant Governor.
I am constantly reminded of the sacrifices generations of Americans
and Ohioans have made in the hope that they will leave their country in
a better place than they found it. And it is this pattern of sacrifice
that I have also witnessed throughout my life growing up in the
Midwest.
So I would like to take a moment to reflect on the sacrifices others
have made that have led to this moment in time and our responsibility
as Americans to our children and to our country.
So let me start at the beginning, at least for me. I was born in
1967, which was part of one of the most turbulent decades in American
history.
My start in life reflected those turbulent times. My birth mother
lost her husband in the Vietnam war, and she found herself with
multiple children to care for without anyone to share that
responsibility.
Then she learned that there was another baby on the way--and that
baby was me. While I can never truly know how the circumstances
affected her and why she made the choice that she did, I would like to
believe that out of a loving heart and full of courage and selflessness
that she gave me a chance to be adopted. My birth certificate reports
that I was born in Michigan, but let me reassure you: I was made in
Ohio.
You see, during the fall of 1967, after 2 months in a foster home, I
was blessed to become the first child of two humble, hard-working
people from northwest Ohio Jim and Judy Husted. Even then, among the
protests and the upheaval happening across the Nation, my parents were
full of hope and optimism as they welcomed a new son into their home.
They have always embodied the American tradition: that each
generation works and sacrifices today so that the next generation can
climb higher mountains tomorrow.
That is the example my parents set as I grew up on County Road J near
Montpelier, OH. Life was not easy for them. Like many families in the
small towns in the industrial Midwest, we weathered factory closures.
Several of my own family members lost their jobs when the machine tool
factory they worked at shut down. But they faced hard times before,
tough times make you tough and resilient, resilient enough to uproot
your family, start over, and keep sacrificing for your family's well-
being. And that is what they all did.
My parents worked hard and never wasted a penny. They routinely made
choices that made their lives harder so that they could make my life
and my brother and sister's life a little easier.
What I saw growing up in rural Ohio was simple but powerful, and it
characterized communities across this country too. People worked long
hours, forfeiting comfort and leisure so that their families, and
especially their children, could enjoy more security and prosperity
than they had.
These diligent men and women may not have called their daily
responsibilities on the factory floors or in the fields the American
dream, but that is what it was. That is what they were striving to
achieve.
I believe this love for family and Nation, this aspirational hope
that we have, has driven America's generations to risk their lives and
livelihoods so that we could create the freest, most prosperous country
in the world.
The early settlers didn't sail across the Atlantic's high seas for
fun and adventure; they came to build a legacy of opportunity and
liberty that their homeland had denied them, but nothing guaranteed
their future. They earned it through courage, toil, and sacrifice.
I know this, the noise of the 24-hour news cycle makes it easy to
lose perspective when you are here in Washington. I know it does. But
if you step into the Capitol Rotunda and you look up at the storied
paintings all around that dome, you will be reminded of an enduring
pattern: Americans built this Nation through personal sacrifice, often
at a steep human cost.
In 1620, the settlers at Plymouth faced hunger, disease, and death as
they launched into a new world where they hoped to establish religious
freedom.
In 1776, their descendants picked up that torch by risking everything
to break free of the monarchy. When the Founders signed the Declaration
of Independence, they pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their
sacred honor--a wager not just for themselves, but on behalf of their
children and future generations.
At Valley Forge, liberty nearly froze to death, but those who endured
did so ``to form a more perfect Union.'' They fought not just for
freedom but for justice, peace, and the blessings of liberty, for their
posterity--that is us.
In 1861, Americans turned on one another so they could preserve the
Nation and abolish slavery. They paid with blood. Then they returned to
their fields and their towns and sought to rebuild a more cohesive
nation, one capable of innovation, lasting growth, and a new hope.
By the early 1900s, Americans led a second revolution--this, the
industrial revolution. In a free nation and economy, workers and
entrepreneurs built new industries, fought for fair working conditions,
and laid the foundations for the prosperity we enjoy today.
Immigrants came through Ellis and Angel Islands with hope in their
hearts and the willingness to work hard, and America embraced them.
In World War II, young men crossed oceans to fight tyranny, and women
stepped onto factory floors to build the arsenal of victory. When it
was all over, they followed their forefathers' faithfulness by coming
home and building schools, churches, and businesses--in other words, a
future.
The ``greatest generation'' carried that burden for their children
and for ours. The men and women who fought and endured daily hardships
during the Second World War understood what I worry many Americans
nearly have forgotten, which is that the heavier the load you choose to
carry, the higher you can hold your head, and doing what is noble
builds confidence. I believe that is true of people and of nations.
For nearly two centuries, Americans weren't focused on indulgence but
on inheritance. To be clear, I am not talking about the kind of
inheritance measured in dollars but, instead, the kind measured in
duty, making tomorrow better than today.
Mr. President, you may be tempted to correct me here. Why would I
only credit us with two centuries of discipline when, after all, we
turn 250 years old next year? Let me take a moment to explain.
This American ethos endured for most of our history, but I believe
something shifted in our culture around the
[[Page S3500]]
time I was born. Our society began to leverage the security that
earlier Americans won for tomorrow in order to avoid the challenges of
the day. Courageous people don't do that.
Even a few years before I was born, I believe President Kennedy had
already begun to detect the shift. In his inaugural address, he
implored Americans to do one thing:
Ask not what your country can do for you--ask what you can
do for your country.
A nation that once rallied around sacrifice--in war, in rebuilding,
in laying foundations for the future--gave way to a new cultural mood.
Over time, we stopped asking ``What can we build and leave for the ones
we love?'' and we began to ask ``What can we claim for ourselves?'' We
became obsessed with what we as individuals are entitled to, and we
forgot how to plant the seeds and nurture them until the harvest. The
sense of shared responsibility that had defined generations was eroded.
Our growing reliance on promises we felt others owed to us meant that
we earned less and expected more.
We initially built a safety net to protect people in need and our
most vulnerable citizens, which is a noble idea and one that I support,
but, over time, that safety net stretched wider and wider until nearly
everybody was lying in it.
As the cost of our promises ballooned, we lacked the will to either
pay for them or the courage to pare them back. So what did we do
instead? We did what previous generations refused to do: We passed the
buck by handing the bill off to our children. Instead of sacrificing
for the next generation, we passed the burden on to them.
It was a convenient deception. Congress created more programs that it
wouldn't pay for. Public officials made promises they couldn't keep.
They convinced their constituents that Americans who come of age after
us would take care of tomorrow all by themselves. We also fought wars
and engaged in foreign interventions without paying for them. It all
adds up.
All the while, our national debt kept rising. I am not just talking
about dollars; America began experiencing a real character deficit. We
weren't just spending money; we were squandering trust, legacy, and
time at the expense of the boys and girls who were too young to even
vote or recognize a better path than the one we had chosen for them. We
soothed ourselves by claiming that we were being compassionate, but we
passed on the consequences of our choices to those not yet born. This
is not compassion; it is generational theft.
In 1967, when I was born, the national debt stood at $330 billion.
Today, it is $36 trillion--more than 100 times greater even after
adjusting for inflation. In 2024 alone, we ran a $1.8 trillion deficit.
A baby born in America today inherits $106,000 as their share of the
national debt on day one.
So what happened to American ingenuity, resolve, and discipline? What
happened to it? How did a nation once defined by sacrifice for our
kids--think about it--become one that was willing to pilfer their piggy
banks?
We have some urgent challenges. Twenty-first century Americans are
not being asked to storm Normandy's beaches or endure winters at Valley
Forge. The task upon us may seem less heroic, but it remains both
daunting and deeply patriotic. What is that task? To simply stop
spending more than we are willing to pay for today.
The question isn't just ``How did America's financial and cultural
debt get so deep?'' It is ``How can we claw our way out of this
financial and cultural hole?'' The answer comes down to identifying
what we value and what we believe is worth the sacrifice.
For me, that is my family and my country. I love them both, and I
know many of you share those same sentiments. I believe that we only
sacrifice for the things we love. I will repeat that. I believe we only
sacrifice for the things we love. That is why it is crucial and
consequential that we remind ourselves and instruct our children to
love this country, reminding ourselves that this pattern and promise of
American liberty forged a noble, innovative nation that is worth loving
and worth fighting for, because why would anyone sacrifice for a nation
they don't love or for neighbors they don't feel a patriotic affection
for?
America has been self-aware from the beginning. We never thought we
were perfect. But every generation is supposed to put in the sweat and
tears to form a more perfect Union.
We were the first Nation rooted in the confidence that our rights
come not from Kings or governments but from God, that we are endowed by
our Creator with the inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the
pursuit of happiness. It is a beautiful thought. That idea is
exceptional. This country is exceptional. There are none like it in the
world, and we must teach the next generation what our countrymen
sacrificed to secure. And that is why this Nation is worth loving with
an active and enduring patriotism.
Loving America doesn't mean agreeing with every policy or politician.
It is not required. But it does require being confident in the idea of
America and being willing to sacrifice for the cause of this Nation--
not in the abstract but in real ways: by being good stewards of what
was handed down to us and honoring those who came before us by adopting
their discipline and by becoming the kind of neighbors who are willing
to work a little harder, take a little less, and give a little more to
preserve what has made this country great.
I stand here today as the beneficiary of those who sacrificed for me
and for all of us. I was blessed to be adopted into a loving home where
they taught me that faith, family, freedom, and hard work are the most
reliable anecdotes for poverty and despair the world has ever known.
We are still a nation where a newborn can begin life in a foster home
in Detroit, grow up in the rural Midwest, and have the honor of serving
as a U.S. Senator.
As Americans, no matter our background, whether we come from
abundance or struggle, we have all inherited the gift of freedom,
passed down from earlier Americans. We stand on their shoulders.
Let's not force the next generation to remember us as the ones who
broke the two-centuries-long chain of self-sacrifice but, rather, as
the ones who reforged it.
To my colleagues and constituents, count me in as one who is willing
to do my part, to work hard, forgo convenience, and reinforce that
chain that will sustain our Nation for future generations.
I will listen to your ideas, and I hope you will listen to mine. I
will operate from the principled belief that we must elevate liberty
and personal responsibility above expediency and entitlement and that
our children should not have to pay the price for our lack of
discipline.
The America I aspire to serve is defined by courage and a love that
refuses to take more than it gives.
As it has so many times in our history, may these convictions prevail
in this Chamber and in the classrooms, boardrooms, break rooms, and
living rooms of these United States. Consider this my prayer for our
Nation, and may God work through us to make it so.
I yield the floor.
The PRESIDING OFFICER. The Senator from Ohio.