[Congressional Record Volume 172, Number 118 (Monday, July 20, 2026)]
[House]
[Pages H4675-H4679]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
HONORING THE LIFE AND LEGACY OF CONGRESSMAN JOHN LEWIS
(Under the Speaker's announced policy of January 3, 2025, Ms.
McClellan of Virginia was recognized for 60 minutes as the designee of
the minority leader.)
General Leave
Ms. McCLELLAN. Mr. Speaker, I ask unanimous consent that all Members
have 5 legislative days to revise and extend their remarks and include
any extraneous material on the subject of this Special Order.
The SPEAKER pro tempore. Is there objection to the request of the
gentlewoman from Virginia?
There was no objection.
Ms. McCLELLAN. Mr. Speaker, this week's Congressional Black Caucus
Special Order hour is in honor of the life and legacy of civil rights
leader and our former colleague, Congressman John R. Lewis, as we mark
the sixth anniversary of his passing last week.
Congressman Lewis led our community fearlessly through many pivotal
moments in our Nation's history. From his time as a student organizer
to marching in Montgomery alongside Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., up
until the end of his career in the U.S. House of Representatives,
Congressman Lewis was a beacon of light in our darkest times.
His legacy continues to inspire not only this caucus but our country,
serving as a blueprint for protecting and expanding democracy,
defending the right to vote, advancing the unfinished work of justice
and equal representation, the unfinished work of making liberty and
justice for all apply to all.
The Supreme Court's recent decision in Louisiana v. Callais
underscores the enduring importance of safeguarding the Black vote. The
Trump administration's efforts to prioritize the disenfranchisement of
our communities and its efforts to roll back progress made in making
equality apply to all
[[Page H4676]]
galvanizes the Congressional Black Caucus to double down and further
his life's legacy.
Today, we commemorate the memory of Congressman John Lewis while we
continue to hold the line against ongoing attacks to our right to
representation.
I want to reflect on what John Lewis meant to me. Born in 1972, I am
the first generation, but hopefully not the last, to benefit from him
literally putting his life on the line to extend the promises of our
founding documents to all of us.
I studied his history, and I was particularly inspired by how at a
young age as a college student, John Lewis put his faith into action.
He said in an op-ed he wrote toward the end of his life that Emmett
Till was his George Floyd.
When Emmett Till was killed at age 14, John Lewis was only 15 years
old.
He said: ``I will never ever forget the moment when it became so
clear that he could easily have been me. In those days, fear
constrained us like an imaginary prison, and troubling thoughts of
potential brutality committed for no understandable reason were the
bars.
``Though I was surrounded by two loving parents, plenty of brothers,
sisters, and cousins, their love could not protect me from the unholy
oppression waiting just outside that family circle. Unchecked,
unrestrained violence and government-sanctioned terror had the power to
turn a simple stroll to the store for some Skittles or an innocent
morning jog down a lonesome country road into a nightmare. If we are to
survive as one unified nation, we must discover what so readily takes
root in our hearts that could rob Mother Emanuel Church in South
Carolina of her brightest and best, shoot unwitting concertgoers in Las
Vegas and choke to death the hopes and dreams of a gifted violinist
like Elijah McClain.''
At 15 years old, John Lewis decided to do something about it. As a
college student, he participated in the national sit-in, a pivotal
moment in the civil rights movement, where he and his fellow students
targeted segregated lunch counters in downtown Nashville where my
father was from.
They were arrested, beaten, and jailed. My grandfather actually
served as one of the members of the legal team to those students.
This act of peaceful protest in the face of violent reaction led to
the desegregation of the city stores in Nashville.
I will never forget watching a video of Congressman Lewis sitting at
the lunch counter, in an exhibit in the Smithsonian Museum of African
American History, listening in the headsets to the recording of what
the Greensboro Four heard at the Woolworth counter. As it triggered his
own memory, he wept.
{time} 1950
In May of 1961, Congressman Lewis, then a student, was severely
beaten by a White mob at a Greyhound bus terminal in Rock Hill, South
Carolina, during the Freedom Rides.
Fifty years later, one of his attackers, Elwin Wilson, came to
Washington to ask for his forgiveness. Together, in a very emotional
meeting in his office, they listened to another recording of the mob
that beat John Lewis nearly to death that day. John Lewis forgave him.
In August of 1963, he was the youngest speaker at the March on
Washington, representing one of the Big Six civil rights group.
Then, in March of 1965, he led another March, in Selma, where he was
again beaten, along with 600 other peaceful protesters walking across
the Edmund Pettus Bridge, who were brutally attacked by State troopers.
Each of these actions galvanized change: the Civil Rights Act, the
Voting Rights Act, and more.
For me, the most memorable moment I got to witness: In 2019, he came
to Richmond. He was the keynote speaker at a ceremony to rename the
Boulevard after tennis great, Arthur Ashe. After his speech, I had the
privilege of escorting him to an exhibit at the Virginia Museum of Fine
Arts. In a former Confederate chapel, the exhibit included a recording
of the speech that he gave in response when he opposed the impeachment
of President Clinton.
I sat in a pew next to John Lewis and watched him as he listened to
that speech for the first time since he gave it. What stuck out to me
were the following words: ``When you see something that is not right,
not just, not fair, you have a moral obligation to say something, to do
something. Our children and their children will ask us, What did you
do? What did you say? For some, this vote may be hard, but we have a
mission and a mandate to be on the right side of history.''
I watched with tears in my eyes as he listened and wept. He said that
was the first time he had heard it but that the words were still true.
Mr. Speaker, we take tough votes here. We take votes that sometimes
are the difference between life and death. We take votes to try to stop
the rollback of progress. We take votes to make ``liberty and justice
for all'' apply to all.
For me, my North Star are the words I just read from John Lewis: When
you see something that is not right, say something.
There is a lot I see that is not right. I see a President, in the
name of a war on wokeness, dismantling the very civil rights
protections that allowed me to be here. I see a President and his
congressional enablers dismantling the right to vote, putting on the
floor not once, not twice, not three times--at least four times a
modern day poll tax that makes a mockery of the Voting Rights Act and
the 15th Amendment that it was intended to enforce.
I see a Secretary of Defense who is systematically firing very
qualified, very distinguished, decorated generals and leaders,
admirals, because they are Black or women. He thinks that, because of
that, they must only be there because of DEI. I see that that is wrong,
and I am saying something. I will continue to say something because
that is what John Lewis would have me do.
Mr. Speaker, I yield to the gentlewoman from New York (Ms. Clarke),
the chair of the Congressional Black Caucus.
Ms. CLARKE of New York. Mr. Speaker, I am Representative D. Yvette
Clarke, chair of the Congressional Black Caucus for the 119th Session
of Congress, proudly representing New York's Ninth Congressional
District in central and southwest Brooklyn.
I thank my dear colleague Congresswoman Jennifer McClellan for
anchoring this Congressional Black Caucus Special Order hour and really
setting the table for a conversation that we are having this evening.
I rise tonight with my colleagues of the Congressional Black Caucus
to honor the life and legacy of our dear friend and former colleague,
the conscience of this Congress, Congressman John Lewis.
For more than 30 years in the United States House of Representatives
and over the course of his life, Congressman John Lewis never stopped
fighting for justice, equality, and the right to vote.
Today, the very ideals that Congressman Lewis spent his life fighting
to protect are under sustained and unprecedented attack. As we speak,
extremist Republicans at the local, State, and national levels are
using every tactic in their arsenal to disenfranchise Black and
minority communities.
To date, hundreds of bills to restrict voting access have been
introduced in States around the country with the aim of closing polling
locations, curbing early voting and mail-in ballots, and imposing
stricter national voter ID requirements.
Right now Republicans in the Congress are fighting to jam through
voter suppression legislation, like the so-called SAVE America Act and
the Voter ID Act, ushering in a national ID program.
In the wake of the Callais decision, Black political power and
representation has come under direct assault, with Republican-led
legislatures and Governors moving to redraw congressional maps across
the south ahead of the November election in a brazen effort to dilute
Black voting strength and reverse decades of hard-fought civil rights
progress secured through the Voting Rights Act.
With these unprecedented assaults on our voting rights and the slow
erosion of our constitutional and Democratic norms, each of us has a
moral responsibility to speak out and act out as Congressman John Lewis
did. Voting
[[Page H4677]]
rights are and have always been the CBC's North Star.
For generations, our communities have marched, fought, and even died
for the right to vote. Congressman Lewis certainly knew this.
At a time when our democracy is under constant siege by the Trump
administration, we must do all that we can to protect those most
fundamental and foundational rights.
It is a shame that partisan politics has brought us to a point that
we cannot agree that access to the ballot box should be a right
afforded to every American. Congressman John Lewis devoted every day of
his life to fighting to make our country live up to its highest
ideals--to promise that we are all created equal.
From the Edmund Pettus Bridge to the Halls of Congress, the boy from
Troy never stopped making good trouble. As he would say: necessary
trouble.
It is in that spirit that the CBC and House Democrats will always
fight back against the voter suppression that plagues our country and
impedes access to the ballot box, particularly in Black communities. It
is in light of that spirit that we will not stop until we pass the John
R. Lewis Voting Rights Advancement Act to restore and modernize the
protections of the Voting Rights Act to prevent States from erecting
new barriers to the ballot box.
Mr. Speaker, I will just say that we miss John Lewis. In this moment,
it is up to all of us to pick up the mantle of his legacy and press
forward, making good trouble, necessary trouble.
{time} 2000
Ms. McCLELLAN. Mr. Speaker, I yield to the gentlewoman from Georgia
(Mrs. McBath), from the Sixth District.
Mrs. McBATH. Mr. Speaker, I thank so much, once again, our esteemed
colleague Representative Jennifer McClellan from Virginia who
consistently, over and over again, has always been steadfast in holding
Special Order hours for the Congressional Black Caucus. She understands
the relevance and the importance of our history and all that this means
to communities of color that we make sure that we have our say here on
the House floor and all these words are kept in the record for
perpetuity.
Mr. Speaker, I thank my colleagues and the CBC for hosting tonight's
CBC Special Order hour to honor what we all know is a really, really
great man. I think everyone, whether you are Republican or Democrat,
has always understood the importance of having John Lewis as our
esteemed colleague.
It is hard to believe that it has been 6 years since the passing of
our dear friend and colleague Congressman John Lewis, or as he would
always say, ``I am the boy from Troy.''
Despite years lacking his presence, his spirit and his soul still
fill this Chamber every single day. There are so many of my colleagues
that continue to use his words and his phrases and his thoughts every
single day as they want to be able to emulate the work that he has done
for democracy, the work that he has done for the United States of
America on behalf of every community in America.
Renowned as the conscience of Congress--and I don't think there will
be anyone else ever to come along in this esteemed body, for years to
come, long after we are all gone, that can ever be revered as the
conscience of Congress--John leaves behind a legacy that serves as a
guiding light toward what is right and what is just in America.
In a world where Federal protections for communities indeed are under
constant attack every single day, where the Voting Rights Act is being
systematically dismantled, and where some children born today have
fewer protections than their parents had, it has never been more
important to let his words guide our actions.
As John would often say, and it has been quoted a million times over,
we have a moral obligation, a mission, and a mandate to do what we can
to make our country and our world a better place, and to help usher in
a loving community where no one is left out or left behind.
John was probably one of the only politicians that I truly believe
lived by those words and was absolutely unafraid to do what was
necessary to realize them, no matter if he was marching for freedom in
Selma or sitting in on the House floor in support of safer gun laws.
I remember that night so distinctly because at that time, I was the
national spokesperson for Moms Demand Action for Gun Sense in America.
While all of my now colleagues were sitting on the House floor asking
for background checks for all gun sales, asking for safer communities,
legislation that would keep our families safe, I was on the outside
leading the rally, leading the charge for the very same thing.
John reminded each of us of the importance of getting into good,
necessary trouble. You will hear that said by my colleagues again and
again because the trouble is absolutely necessary.
John's story is one of faith. It is one of resilience and perpetual
belief that it is our responsibility--especially those of us who serve
in this body--to fight for the change that we wish to see, that our
constituents and our communities are crying out for.
From the son of Alabama sharecroppers to a renowned civil rights
activist to a Member of Congress, John's life was a true testament to
the American Dream. He embraced a country that did not always embrace
him because he believed in the promise of a better tomorrow and was
willing to fight for it. He was willing to even die for it.
He fought for it on the streets of Montgomery. He fought for it while
bruised and bloodied on a bridge in Selma. He fought for it for 33
years representing his community in the Halls of Congress.
He was a mentor to me when I first came to this Chamber ready to make
life better for families in Georgia. In fact, I remember the very first
day I was here, after I was sworn in. The Democratic Caucus always
welcomes the brand-new Members. It was John, who was the leader of our
delegation, who introduced me to the entire Democratic Caucus.
That moment was so monumental for me, so monumental for me that I had
the John Lewis, our civil rights icon, introduce me to the Democratic
Caucus as one of his very own. It takes my breath away even to this
day.
I will never forget the day that he accompanied me and other
survivors of gun violence and those who have lost loved ones as we
marched our way over to Senator Mitch McConnell's office. We were
demanding that he pay heed to our stories, that he pay attention to the
hundreds of thousands of people in this country that are dying
unnecessarily to gun violence every single day.
I remember dancing with John Lewis. He loved to dance. Despite
everything that happened to him in his life, he believed in the good of
man. He believed in the best of man. That joy came through whenever he
was with organizations and people that had come to celebrate all the
work that he had done. He would celebrate and give them love through
dance.
I remember even before I came to Congress, I asked John, when I was
national spokesperson for Moms Demand Action for Gun Sense in America
in Atlanta, I was holding a rally and asked him if he would be my
keynote speaker, never imagining he would say yes. Never in a million
years did I believe that John Lewis would listen to me, just an average
mom who had lost her own son to gun violence, but just asking for a
little bit of his time. He came and spoke at my rally.
One thing I know about John is he always showed up for people, the
people. They were his cause. Democracy was his cause. Freedom was his
cause.
At this moment in our Nation's history, we draw upon the wisdom of
his words and look to his legacy for strength and guidance as we carry
the torch that he lit for civil and human rights, for not only people
of color but for everyone in America. Because even today, we painfully
have to be reminded that our work is still unfinished and not everybody
in this country has been set free.
Before we mourn the death of John Lewis, we grieve the loss of the
Federal protections the Voting Rights Act once afforded every American
in this country, rights that John nearly gave his life for long before
he ever had the chance to even serve in Congress.
[[Page H4678]]
{time} 2010
Since his passing, those protections have eroded further, and the
struggle to protect voting rights continues in his name here with
legislation, back home in my home State of Georgia, and in State
legislatures all across this country.
Progress is rarely linear. Despite this tumultuous time in our
Nation's history, John's story reminds us that the fight to make our
country a better place is never-ending. It is generation after
generation. There is no end.
It was one of the greatest honors of my life to be his colleague and
a fellow member of Georgia's congressional delegation.
Let's not forget the impact that he had on our country because his
legacy is what guides us towards the future. It was a pure legacy for
everyone in this country.
John cared so deeply about what he used to say all the time was the
Beloved Community. The members of the CBC that I am so blessed to be
able to serve with, we are always going to carry that mantle. That is
our charge: to carry that mantle, uplifting the community that he loved
so much.
We will continue to speak up, and we are going to continue to speak
out against bigotry, against hatred, inequity, and injustice because
that is what we know best. As people of color, that is what we know
best.
So we will continue to speak up against all of these forms of
inequity. In all of its forms, we will continue to fight against it.
This will always be our charge, as we are tasked to be the protectors
and the armor-bearers of democracy.
Ms. McCLELLAN. Mr. Speaker, I thank the gentlewoman from Georgia.
As we reflect on Congressman Lewis, I often ask myself what would he
say about what is going on today? I have to start with his final words
to us, which I want to share now.
Shortly after his death, The New York Times published his last words
to us in an op-ed entitled: ``Together, You Can Redeem the Soul of Our
Nation: Though I am gone, I urge you to answer the highest calling of
your heart and stand up for what you truly believe.''
``While my time here has now come to an end, I want you to know that
in the last days and hours of my life you inspired me. You filled me
with hope about the next chapter of the great American story when you
used your power to make a difference in our society. Millions of people
motivated simply by human compassion laid down the burdens of division.
Around the country and the world you set aside race, class, age,
language, and nationality to demand respect for human dignity.
``That is why I had to visit Black Lives Matter Plaza in Washington,
though I was admitted to the hospital the following day. I just had to
see and feel it for myself that, after many years of silent witness,
the truth is still marching on.
``Emmett Till was my George Floyd. He was my Rayshard Brooks, Sandra
Bland, and Breonna Taylor. He was 14 when he was killed, and I was only
15 years old at the time. I will never ever forget the moment when it
became so clear that he could easily have been me. In those days, fear
constrained us like an imaginary prison, and troubling thoughts of
potential brutality committed for no understandable reason were the
bars.
``Though I was surrounded by two loving parents, plenty of brothers,
sisters, and cousins, their love could not protect me from the unholy
oppression waiting just outside that family circle. Unchecked,
unrestrained violence and government-sanctioned terror had the power to
turn a simple stroll to the store for some Skittles or an innocent
morning jog down a lonesome country road into a nightmare. If we are to
survive as one unified nation, we must discover what so readily takes
roots in our hearts that could rob Mother Emanuel Church in South
Carolina of her brightest and best, shoot unwitting concertgoers in Las
Vegas and choke to death the hopes and dreams of a gifted violinist
like Elijah McClain.
``Like so many young people today, I was searching for a way out, or
some might say a way in, and then I heard the voice of Dr. Martin
Luther King, Jr., on an old radio. He was talking about the philosophy
and discipline of nonviolence. He said we are all complicit when we
tolerate injustice. He said it is not enough to say it will get better
by and by. He said each of us has a moral obligation to stand up, speak
up, and speak out. When you see something that is not right, you must
say something. You must do something. Democracy is not a state. It is
an act, and each generation must do its part to help build what we
called the Beloved Community, a nation and world society at peace with
itself.
``Ordinary people with extraordinary vision can redeem the soul of
America by getting in what I call good trouble, necessary trouble.
Voting and participating in the democratic process are key. The vote is
the most powerful nonviolent change agent you have in a democratic
society. You must use it because it is not guaranteed. You can lose it.
``You must also study and learn the lessons of history because
humanity has been involved in this soul-wrenching, existential struggle
for a very long time. People on every continent have stood in your
shoes, through decades and centuries before you. The truth does not
change, and that is why the answers worked out so long ago can help you
find solutions to the challenges of our time. Continue to build union
between movements stretching across the globe because we must put away
our willingness to profit from the exploitation of others.
``Though I may not be here with you, I urge you to answer the highest
calling of your heart and stand up for what you truly believe. In my
life I have done all I can to demonstrate that the way of peace, the
way of love, and nonviolence is the more excellent way. Now it is your
turn to let freedom ring.
``When historians pick up their pens to write the story of the 21st
century, let them say that it was your generation who laid down the
heavy burdens of hate at last and that peace finally triumphed over
violence, aggression, and war. So I say to you, walk with the wind,
brothers and sisters, and let the spirit of peace and the power of
everlasting love be your guide.''
With that, John Lewis put down the torch, and we have to pick it up.
We have to pick it up and run with it because the Beloved Community
that he fought for is very far out of sight, farther than it was when
he left us.
We still see, rather than a 14-year-old being lynched and killed
because he had the temerity to be accused of hitting on a White woman
and be killed, we have gone from Black Americans being afraid to walk
down the street because of the violence that they may see, to immigrant
communities afraid to go to the courthouse, to work, to school,
anywhere where they might be detained and deported with no due process,
or shot and killed, or detained in horrible conditions and not given
the care that they need when they need it.
{time} 2020
We now see people who fear going to the grocery store, school, a
concert, a movie theater, church, or a baseball game without the fear
of gun violence, which he fought so hard against.
We now see, when he encouraged us to learn from our history, an
administration that wants to erase it because it is uncomfortable. But
like any family tragedy, any family trauma, we cannot heal from the
ugly parts of American history if we don't talk about it and learn from
it.
See, we also need to understand our history and learn it because we
have been here before. As John Lewis said: ``The truth does not change,
and . . . the answers worked out long ago can help you find solutions
to the challenges of our time.'' But, if you are not teaching that
history, if you are erasing it from our museums, our public spaces, and
our classrooms, you can't learn it, and you can't learn from it.
We are, once again, involved in a war with no end in sight, and no
one really understands how it started. We are seeing the weaponization
of the very tools that gave us our closest moment to where we could say
liberty and justice for all applied to all: The Civil Rights Act, the
Voting Rights Act, the 14th Amendment, the 15th Amendment being
weaponized to dismantle the progress we made of overcoming the legacy
of over 300 years of slavery and Jim Crow.
We could be discouraged. I know a lot of people are. A lot of young
people
[[Page H4679]]
who I talk to are--a lot of people who recognize that they have fewer
rights than their parents did, a lot of people who realize they are
fighting the same fights as their parents, their grandparents, and
their great-grandparents.
They are people who are struggling to put food on the table, to keep
the lights on, to get the healthcare they need when they need it
without going bankrupt.
A lot of people are in despair, but John Lewis had something to say
to them, too: ``Do not get lost in a sea of despair. Be hopeful, be
optimistic. Our struggle is not the struggle of a day, a week, a month,
or a year. It is the struggle of a lifetime. Never ever be afraid to
make some noise and get into good trouble, necessary trouble.''
Mr. Speaker, we are picking up the baton. I have picked up the baton.
The Congressional Black Caucus has picked up the baton, and we will
never ever drop it. We will fight back against attempts to roll back
our voting rights. We will fight back against attempts to erase our
history. We will fight back against attempts to erase the legacy that
still lingers and impacts our communities--that legacy of over 300
years of slavery and Jim Crow.
We will never stop fighting for any community that is targeted and
marginalized solely because of who they are. We will never stop
fighting until, as Dr. King said, we can all say: ``Free at last, free
at last. Thank God Almighty, I am free at last,'' and until the
promises of the Declaration of Independence, written 250 years ago,
become true for everybody that this government recognizes that all
people are created equal with the natural rights of life, liberty, and
the pursuit of happiness and that the purpose of government is to
secure and protect those rights.
That is what John Lewis nearly gave his life for on that bus in South
Carolina and on that bridge in Selma. He fought to the very end until
he didn't have the strength to fight anymore. We owe it to him to pick
up that baton and never let it go until we hand it off to the next
generation, who will fight to protect our democracy and our beloved
community.
I thank John Lewis for dedicating his life so that generations who
never met him will benefit from his work. We will carry it on.
Mr. Speaker, I yield back the balance of my time.
____________________