[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 145 (1999), Part 19]
[Senate]
[Pages 27740-27743]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]



                             WALTER PAYTON

  Mr. LOTT. Mr. President, Walter Payton was the pride of Columbia, MS. 
He died all too early this past Monday at the age of 45 years--too 
young for a person of such integrity, ability, and generosity.
  The Clarion Ledger newspaper of my home State this morning wrote a 
magnificent article about him. It said Walter Payton amazed his 
Mississippi teammates with his kindness almost as often as he dazzled 
them with his ability. They tell of a man who studied audiology in 
college after playing high school football with a deaf friend. That 
told a lot about the early life of this outstanding young man, and it 
is the kind of life he lived until his final day this past Monday.
  Surprisingly, the man who would become a great football player did 
not even try out for football until his junior year in high school, 
choosing instead to play drums in the high school band. But he learned 
the game of football as fast as he could run, and long before the 
Nation had heard of the Chicago Bear named ``Sweetness,'' 
Mississippians were cheering a Jefferson High superhero they called 
``Spiderman'' and a Jackson State Tiger known as Walter.
  His 3,563 yards rushing at Jackson State University was one of nine 
school records he set, and he scored a college career total of 66 
touchdowns. At Jackson State, in 1973, he led the Nation in scoring 
with 160 points, and his 464 career points set an NCAA record. But 
Jackson State was a Division 1-AA school, and Walter did not get the 
same attention as players from some of the bigger, well-known colleges. 
Still, the Bears knew a caliber player when they saw one, and they knew 
about some of the other famous Mississippians who had preceded him, so 
they drafted him fourth in the overall draft in 1975.
  In his first NFL game in 1975, he rushed eight times for a total of 
zero yards. But that did not tell the story of what was to come. The 
Bears did not give up on him, and Walter Payton didn't give up on 
himself. He worked as hard in Chicago as he had in Mississippi. By the 
end of his rookie year, he had started seven games and rushed for 679 
yards and seven touchdowns. The next year he had the first of what 
would be 10 1,000-yard seasons, rushing for 1,390 yards and 13 
touchdowns.
  NFL coaches termed him the ``complete football player.'' Just last 
night, I saw Mike Ditka saying he was the best, most complete football 
player he had ever seen. He bested Jim Brown's longstanding rushing 
record of 12,312 yards in 1984.
  But he also was more than just a football player. He worked to help 
mankind. He created the Halas/Payton Foundation to assist Chicago 
inner-city youth in completing their education. He believed in 
nurturing young people through education and inspiration, and he knew 
that the rewards of

[[Page 27741]]

sports came in the challenges he set for himself, what he learned about 
himself, and what he accomplished as part of a team.
  Walter Payton's light shown brighter earlier than many people his 
age. That is why his passing on Monday was even more difficult to take. 
At his induction in the NFL Football Hall of Fame in July 1993, he 
asked his son Jarrett to be the first son to present his father for 
induction into the Football Hall of Fame. His son said:
  ``Not only is he a great athlete, he's a role model--he's my role 
model.''
  Drummer, NCAA champion, college Hall of Famer, Pro Football All Star, 
NFL Hall of Famer, ``Sweetness.''
  Role model to his son and millions of other Jarretts, that is the 
title Walter Payton would most cherish as his legacy.
  Mr. COCHRAN. Mr. President, will the Senator yield a moment to me?
  Mr. LOTT. I will be delighted to yield to my colleague from 
Mississippi.
  Mr. COCHRAN. Mr. President, I join my distinguished colleague in 
advising the Senate that today our State of Mississippi mourns with a 
heavy heart the passing of Walter Payton who died yesterday.
  His accomplishments on the football field at Jackson State University 
and at Soldiers Field in Chicago as a member of the Chicago Bears are 
well known to all of us. He was the greatest running back in the 
history of football.
  He reflected a great deal of credit on our State not only because he 
was a great football player but because of his personality, his 
generosity, and his kindness to his family and friends. I know he would 
often fly members of his family and friends--including a member of my 
staff, Barbara Rooks, who is a close friend of the Payton family--to 
Chicago for football games. He was devoted to his mother, Mrs. Alyne 
Payton, and his sister Pamela, and he was very close to his brother 
Eddie, who was a great football player as well as a professional 
golfer. Eddie Payton also coached the Jackson State University golf 
team to the national championship.
  The family is well respected in so many ways. I could go on for a 
long time and tell you more about his mother and what a dear lady she 
is and the exemplary community spirit of all the members of Walter 
Payton's family. I extend to his wife Connie and their children, 
Jarrett and Brittney, my deepest sympathies.
  The articles in the New York Times today describe well his remarkable 
career, and they include accolades from fellow players, coaches, and 
friends. I ask unanimous consent that these articles on the life and 
career of Walter Payton along with his biography as an Enshrinee of the 
Pro Football Hall of Fame be printed in the Record.
  There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in 
the Record, as follows:

                [From the New York Times, Nov. 2, 1999]

                From College In Mississippi To Champion

                         (By William C. Rhoden)

       The news that Walter Payton died yesterday at his home in a 
     suburb of Chicago came not so much as a shock but as a 
     sorrowful, piercing spike. We were prepared last February by 
     the shock of seeing the once robust Payton looking gaunt and 
     frail as he announced that he suffered from a rare liver 
     disease. Now we mourn a family's loss of a father and 
     husband, and the industry's loss of a great athlete. I mourn 
     the loss of a shared past, life petals that peel away each 
     time someone contemporary dies.
       I was not close to Walter Payton, but rather attached to 
     him.
       We first met 28 years ago this month, on Nov. 13, 1971. 
     This was the sort of one-on-one introduction that defensive 
     backs dread and outstanding running backs love. We met at the 
     10-yard line in Mississippi Memorial Stadium.
       This was before Payton became Sweetness; before he became a 
     Chicago Bear; before we were paid for plying our particular 
     crafts. We met in the rarefied atmosphere of black college 
     football. He was a freshman at Jackson State University in 
     Mississippi; I was a senior at Morgan State in Baltimore. 
     This was an inter-sectional game between once-beaten, once-
     tied opponents. We had beaten Jackson State a year earlier at 
     R.F.K. Stadium in Washington, and now it was our turn to go 
     to the Deep South, deeper than I'd ever been. I was intrigued 
     by Mississippi, the state so tied to civil rights history. 
     All our coach kept talking about was that these Southern boys 
     were still fighting the Civil War: the South thought it was 
     better than the North, he said, and when it came to football, 
     felt it was heartier, better and tougher.
       Jackson State had a great football legacy: Willie 
     Richardson, Gloster Richardson, Verlon Biggs, Harold Jackson, 
     Richard Caster, Lem Barney. This particular year it had 
     Jerome Barkum, later a wide receiver with the Jets, Robert 
     Brazile, later a linebacker with the Oilers, and Eddie 
     Payton, Walter's older brother, who became a great N.F.L. 
     punt returner and then a professional golfer. Walter began 
     the year unknown, playing behind his brother. By November he 
     was still playing behind his brother but was Jackson State's 
     secret weapon.
       My recollection of the game is reduced to one poignant 
     frame--that first meeting at the 10-yard line. A sweep with 
     Payton slicing past the line, over the linebackers and 
     finally into the secondary. There was Payton, there was me; I 
     hit him and felt solid contact, then felt Payton bounce back 
     to the outside for a touchdown. What I remember thinking at 
     the moment was that this guy had great balance, gyroscopic 
     balance. He was nearly horizontal, legs still churning. 
     Payton was rushing toward the National Football League; I was 
     headed toward journalism, not doing such a good job of 
     tackling but recording the moment.
       Years later in Chicago I teased him about Morgan State's 
     victory in 1970. Payton reminded me that we had won that game 
     when he was still in high school.
       Payton represents so much to so many. He carried the banner 
     of black college football to an unprecedented level. To one 
     extent or another we all carried a burden of proof. One 
     success reflected well on the group. Individual success was 
     group success, even if the player went to a different 
     institution. Such as when Grambling sent eight players to the 
     N.F.L. one season, or now when Mike Strahan, who played at 
     Texas Southern, runs in the winning touchdown. Payton was an 
     object of such pride. His success felt good and warm.
       He held so many N.F.L. records. He set the career record 
     for rushing yards, 16,726; for career attempts, 3,838; for 
     rushing yards in a game, 275; for seasons with 1,000 or more 
     yards, 10. He broke Jim Brown's N.F.L. career rushing mark, 
     12,312 yards, in Chicago on Oct. 7, 1984, the same day he 
     broke Brown's mark of 58 100-yard rushing games.
       A large part of Payton's legacy is made up of numbers. 
     Yesterday, Robert Hughes, the Jackson State head coach, was 
     an assistant coach in 1971, said that what Payton meant went 
     beyond the numbers. ``What's most memorable to me is when he 
     started getting on a roll and started after Jim Brown's 
     record,'' Hughes said. ``Brown was the greatest running back 
     of all time. He didn't come from a predominantly black 
     school; he's from Syracuse. When Walter came in from a little 
     school in Mississippi to top all that, that's what made it 
     great.''
       Walter Payton, with the aggressive, elusive style that was 
     formed at Jackson State. The N.F.L.'s career rushing leader. 
     The runner who led Chicago to its only Super Bowl victory. 
     Dead so young, at 45.
                                  ____


                [From the New York Times, Nov. 2, 1999]

             Football Remembers Payton, the Ultimate Player

                           (By Mike Freeman)

       Late yesterday afternoon each National Football League team 
     received an e-mail message from the Chicago Bears. Many 
     executives knew what it said before they read it: Walter 
     Payton, one of the best ever to play running back, had died.
       For the past several days it has been rumored that Payton 
     had taken a turn for the worse, so the league was braced for 
     the news. Still, the announcement that Payton had succumbed 
     to bile-duct cancer at 45 rocked and deeply saddened the 
     world of professional football.
       ``His attitude for life, you wanted to be around him,'' 
     said Mike Singletary, a close friend who played with Payton 
     from 1981 to 1987 on the Bears. Singletary read Scripture at 
     Payton's side on the morning of his death.
       ``He was the kind of individual if you were down he would 
     not let you stay down,'' Singletary said.
       Commissioner Paul Tagliabue said the N.F.L. family was 
     devastated by the loss of Payton. Tagliabue called him ``one 
     of the greatest players in the history of the sport.''
       ``The tremendous grace and dignity he displayed in his 
     final months reminded us again why `Sweetness' was the 
     perfect nickname for Watler Payton,'' he said in a statement.
       In his 13 seasons with Chicago, Payton rushed for 16,726 
     yards on 3,838 carries, still both N.F.L. records. One of 
     Payton's most impressive feats was that he played in 189 of 
     190 games from 1975, his first season, until his retirement 
     in 1987. For someone with Payton's style to participate and 
     dominate in that many games--he enjoyed plowing into 
     defenders and rarely ran out of bounds to avoid a tackle--is 
     remarkable.
       ``He is the best football player I've ever seen,'' said 
     Saints Coach Mike Ditka, who coached Payton for six seasons 
     with Chicago.
       Ditka added: ``At all positions, he's the best I've ever 
     seen. There are better runners than Walter, but he's the best 
     football player I ever saw. To me, that's the ultimate 
     compliment.''
       What always amazed Payton's opponents was his combination 
     of grace and power. Payton once ran over half dozen players

[[Page 27742]]

     from the Kansas City Chiefs, and on more than one occasion he 
     sprinted by speedy defensive backs.
       It did not take long for the N.F.L. to see that Payton was 
     special. In 1977, his third season, Payton, standing 5 feet 
     10\1/2\ inches and weighing 204 pounds, was voted the 
     league's most valuable player after one of the best rushing 
     seasons in league history. He ran for 1,852 yards and 14 
     touchdowns. His 5.5 yard a carry that season was a career 
     best and against Minnesota that season he ran for 275 yards, 
     a single-game record that still stands.
       ``I remember always watching him and thinking, `How did he 
     just make that run?' '' Giants General Manager Ernie Accorsi 
     said. ``He was just a great player.
       Accorsi echoed the sentiments of others that Payton may not 
     have had the natural gift of running back Barry Sanders or 
     the athleticism of Jim Brown, but that he made the most of 
     what he had.
       ``I think Jim Brown is in a class by himself,'' Accorsi 
     said. ``And then there are other great players right behind 
     him like Walter Payton.''
       Payton was known as much for his kindness off the field as 
     his prowess on it. He was involved with a number of charities 
     during and after his N.F.L. career, and although he valued 
     his privacy he was known for his kindness to people in the 
     league whom he did not know.
       Accorsi saw Payton at the 1976 Pro Bowl, and even though it 
     was one of the first times the two had met, Payton told 
     Accorsi, ``I hope God blesses you.''
       ``When some guys say stuff like that, you wonder if it is 
     phony,'' Accorsi said, ``but not with him. You could tell he 
     was very genuine.''
       Bears fans in Chicago felt the same way, which is why 
     reaction to his death was swift and universal.
       ``He to me is ranked with Joe DiMaggio in baseball--he was 
     the epitome of class,'' said Hank Oettinger, a native of 
     Chicago who was watching coverage of Payton's death at a bar 
     on the city's North Side. ``The man was such a gentleman, and 
     he would show it on the football field.''
       Several fans broke down crying yesterday as they called 
     into Chicago television sports talk show and told of their 
     thoughts on Payton.
       Asked what made Payton special, Ditka said: ``It would have 
     to be being Walter Payton. He was so good for the team. He 
     was the biggest practical joker and he kept everyone loose. 
     And he led by example on the field. He was the complete 
     player. He did everything. He was the greatest runner, but he 
     was also probably the best looking back you ever saw.''
                                  ____


                  [From the Pro Football Hall of Fame]

                             Walter Payton

 (Enshrined in 1993 (Jackson State) Running Back 5-10, 202, 1975-1987 
                             Chicago Bears)

       First-round pick, 1975 draft . . . Quickly established 
     himself as super star . . . All-time leader in rushing, 
     combined net yards . . . Career stats: 16,726 yards, 100 TDs 
     rushing; 492 receptions for 4,538 yards; 21,803 combined net 
     yards; 125 touchdowns . . . All-Pro seven times . . . Played 
     in nine Pro Bowls . . . Holds single-game rushing record of 
     275 yards . . . Had 77 games over 100 yards rushing . . . 
     Born July 25, 1954, in Columbia, Mississippi.
       The name Walter Payton is one of the names in the world 
     that needs no introduction. Walter's Chicago Bear records 
     from 1975 through 1987 are long and impressive. While 
     primarily a running back, Walter was the ultimate athlete. He 
     was NFL Player of the Year and Most Valuable Player in both 
     1977 and 1985. In addition to his list of accomplishments, he 
     caught 495 pass receptions for 4,538 yards and 15 touchdowns, 
     and passed 34 times for 331 yards and eight touchdowns.
       Walter's historical career as a running back helped to 
     establish him as the All-time leader in running and combined 
     net yards. Water contributed 16,026 rushing yards with 100 
     touchdowns to his tenure with the Bears. The first round 
     draft choice from Jackson State played in nine Pro Bowls, 
     holds the single game rushing record of 275 yards against 
     central division rivals--the Minnesota Vikings, and completed 
     77 games over 100 yards. While always being the number one 
     target of defensive opponents, Walter only missed one game in 
     his rookie season with a bruised thigh before going on to 
     play 186 consecutive games. Walter's compact style and moves 
     on the playing field will always be memorable.
       Born July 25, 1954 in Columbia, Mississippi, Walter 
     continues to play on new fields after football. In 1988, 
     Walter established the Halas/Payton Foundation to help 
     Chicago inner-city youth through education. Walter, who has a 
     degree in special education, believes that the hope of youth 
     can be nurtured through education, dedication, hard work, and 
     role models.

  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The Senator from Illinois.
  Mr. DURBIN. Mr. President, I thank my colleagues from the State of 
Mississippi who are justifiably proud of Walter Payton. His home State 
of Mississippi can look to Walter Payton with great pride. There is a 
great deal of sadness in my home State of Illinois, particularly in the 
city of Chicago, with the passing of Walter Payton at the age of 45.
  Later today, I will enter into the Record a statement of tribute to 
Mr. Payton, but I did not want to miss this opportunity this morning to 
mention several things about what Walter Payton meant to Chicago and 
Illinois.
  He was more than a Hall of Fame football player. He ran for a record 
16,726 yards in a 13-year career, one of those years shortened by a 
strike, and yet he established a record which probably will be 
difficult to challenge or surpass at any time in the near future.
  The one thing that was most amazing about Walter Payton was not the 
fact he was such a great rusher, with his hand on the football and 
making moves which no one could understand how he pulled off, but after 
being tackled and down on the ground, hit as hard as could be, he would 
reach over and pull up the tackler and help him back on his feet.
  He was always a sportsman, always a gentleman, always someone you 
could admire, not just for athletic prowess but for the fact he was a 
good human being.
  I had the good fortune this last Fourth of July to meet his wife and 
son. They are equally fine people. His son, late in his high school 
career, in his junior year, decided to try out for football. The apple 
does not fall far from the tree; he became a standout at Saint Viator 
in the Chicago suburb of Arlington Heights and now is playing at the 
University of Miami. I am sure he will have a good career of his own.
  With the passing of a man such as Walter Payton, we have lost a great 
model in football and in life--the way he conducted himself as one of 
the most famous football players of all time.
  The last point I will make is, toward the end of his life when 
announcing he faced this fatal illness, he made a plea across America 
to take organ donation seriously. He needed a liver transplant at one 
point in his recuperation. It could have made a difference. It did not 
happen.
  I do not know the medical details as to his passing, but Walter 
Payton's message in his final months is one we should take to heart as 
we remember him, not just from those fuzzy clips of his NFL career but 
because he reminded us, even as he was facing his last great game in 
life, that each and every one of us has the opportunity to pass the 
ball to someone who can carry it forward in organ donation, and the 
Nation's commitment to that cause would be a great tribute to him.
  I yield the floor.
  Mr. FITZGERALD. Mr. President, I rise today to express my sadness at 
the news of the death of one of football's greatest stars ever, 
Chicago's own Walter Payton.
  Walter Payton was a hero, a leader, and a role model both on and off 
the field. For 13 years, he thrilled Chicago Bears' fans as the NFL's 
all-time leading rusher--perhaps one of the greatest running backs ever 
to play the game of football. After retiring from professional football 
in 1987, Payton continued to touch the lives of Chicagoans as an 
entrepreneur and a community leader.
  Walter Payton's historic career began at Jackson State University, 
where he set a college football record for points scored. The first 
choice in the 1975 NFL draft, Payton--or ``Sweetness'' as he was known 
to Chicago Bears fans--became the NFL's all-time leader in running and 
in combined net yards and scored 110 touchdowns during his career with 
the Bears. He made the Pro Bowl nine times and was named the league's 
Most Valuable Player twice, in 1977 and 1985. In 1977, Payton rushed 
for a career-high 1,852 yards and carried the Bears to the playoffs for 
the first time since 1963. He broke Jim Brown's long-standing record in 
1984 to become the league's all-time leading rusher, and finished his 
career with a record 16,726 total rushing yards. In 1985-86, Walter 
Payton led the Bears to an unforgettable 15-1 season and Super Bowl 
victory--the first and only Super Bowl win in Bears' history. Walter 
Payton was inducted into the Pro

[[Page 27743]]

Football Hall of Fame in 1993, and was selected this year as the 
Greatest All-Time NFL Player by more than 200 players from the NFL 
Draft Class of 1999.
  More important, Walter Payton matched his accomplishments on the 
football field with his selfless actions off the field on behalf of 
those in need. He earned a degree in special education from Jackson 
State University and worked throughout his adult life to improve the 
lives of children. In 1988, he established the Halas/Payton Foundation 
to help educate Chicago's youth.
  Walter Payton was truly an American hero in every sense of the term. 
He died tragically at age 45, but his legacy will live in our hearts 
and minds forever. Today, Mr. President, Illinois mourns. Sweetness, we 
will miss you.
  Mr. DURBIN. Mr. President, I rise today to pay tribute to perhaps the 
best running back who ever carried a football, Walter Payton, who died 
yesterday at the age of 45. In Carl Sandburg's City of the Big 
Shoulders, ``Sweetness,'' as Payton was nicknamed, managed to carry the 
football hopes of an entire city on his shoulders for 13 magnificent 
years.
  From the law firms on LaSalle to the meat packing plants on Fulton, 
Monday mornings in Chicago were always filled with tales of Payton's 
exploits on the field from the previous day. We marveled at his ability 
and reveled in the glory he brought to Chicago and Da Bears. In a life 
cut short by a rare disease, he blessed Chicago with several lifetimes 
of charisma, courage, and talent.
  Who could forget the many times Payton lined up in the red zone and 
soared above opposing defenders for a Bears touchdown? Or the frequency 
with which his 5-10, 204-pound frame bowled over 250-pound linebackers 
en route to another 100-yard-plus rushing game? His relentless pursuit 
of that extra yard and the passion with which he sought it made his 
nickname, Sweetness, all the more ironic. It would take the rarest of 
diseases, barely pronounceable and unfortunately insurmountable, to 
finally bring Sweetness down.
  It was that passion that inspired Payton's first position coach, Fred 
O'Connor, to declare: ``God must have taken a chisel and said, `I'm 
going to make me a halfback.' '' Coach Ditka called Payton simply ``the 
greatest football player I've ever seen.'' Payton's eight National 
Football League (NFL) records, most of which still stand today, merely 
underscore his peerless performance on the field and his extraordinary 
life away from it. The man who wore number 34 distinguished himself as 
the greatest performer in the 80-year history of a team that boasts 
more Hall of Famers than any other team in League history.
  He played hurt many times throughout his career, and on one notable 
occasion, when he should have been hospitalized with a 102 degree 
fever, he played football. On that day, November 20, 1977, Payton 
turned in the greatest rushing performance in NFL history, rushing for 
a league record 275 yards en route to victory against the Minnesota 
Vikings.
  Self-assured but never cocky, Sweetness had no interest in indulging 
the media by uttering the self-aggrandizing sound bites that are all 
too common among today's athletes. Instead, he would praise the 
blocking efforts of fullback Matt Suhey or his offensive linemen, all 
of whom were inextricably linked to the surfeit of records he amassed. 
He play the game with a rare humility--refusing to call attention to 
himself--always recognizing the individuals who paved the way for his 
achievements.
  He once refused to be interviewed by former Ms. America Phyllis 
George unless his entire corps of linemen were included. Following his 
first 1,000 yard rushing season, Payton bought his offensive linemen 
engraved watches. The engraving, however, made no mention of the 1,390 
yards he finished with that year, but instead noted the score of the 
game in which he reached 1,000 yards, underscoring the essential 
contributions that his offensive linemen made in enabling him to 
achieve this feat.
  And how many times did we see Walter Payton dance down the field, a 
limp leg, a quick cut, a break-away. He could find daylight in a 
crowded elevator. And when a tackler finally brought him down, Walter 
Payton would jump to his feet and reach down to help his tackler up. 
That's the kind of football player he was. That's the kind of person he 
was.
  Payton lightened the atmosphere at Hallas Hall with an often 
outlandish sense of humor, even during the years when the Bears 
received boos from the fans and scathing criticism from the press. 
Rookies in training camp were often greeted by firecrackers in their 
locker room and unsuspecting teammates often faced a series of pranks 
when they turned their backs on Payton. Just last week, as Payton was 
clinging to life, he sent Suhey on a trip to Hall of Famer Mike 
Singletary's house, but not before he gave Suhey a series of incorrect 
addresses and directed Suhey to hide a hamburger and a malt in 
Singletary's garage.
  While Payton lived an unparalleled life on the football field, he 
also lived a very full life off the field. He was a brilliant 
businessman, but never too busy to devote countless hours to charitable 
deeds, most of which were unsolicited and voluntary. Sweetness shared 
with us a sense of humanity that will endure as long as his records. I 
had the good fortune on July 4th to meet his wife and children, who are 
equally fine people. The apple didn't fall too far from the tree. 
Jarrett Payton, like his father, decided to try out for football in his 
Junior Year. Jarrett was a standout at St. Viator High School in 
Arlington Heights, a Chicago suburb, and he is now playing football at 
the University of Miami. It looks as if he may have quite a career of 
his own.
  In his last year, Walter Payton helped illuminate the plight of 
individuals who are afflicted with diseases that require organ 
transplants. Patients with the rare liver disease that Payton 
contracted, primary sclerosing cholangitis (PSC), have a 90% chance of 
surviving more than one year if they receive a liver transplant. 
Unfortunately, the need for donations greatly exceeds the demand. The 
longer that patients wait on the organ donation list, the more likely 
it is that their health will deteriorate. In Payton's case, the risk of 
deadly complications, which included bile duct cancer, grew too 
quickly. Payton likely would have had to wait years for his life-saving 
liver. This was time he did not have before cancer took his life 
yesterday. A day when everyone who needs a life-saving organ can be 
treated with one cannot come soon enough.
  More than 66,000 men, women, and children are currently awaiting the 
chance to prolong their lives by finding a matching donor. Minorities, 
who comprise approximately 25% of the population, represent over 40% of 
this organ transplant waiting list. Because of these alarming 
statistics, thirteen people die each day while waiting for a donated 
liver, heart, kidney, or other organ. Half of these deaths are people 
of color. The untimely death of Payton is a wake-up call for each of us 
to become organ donors and discuss our intentions with our families so 
that we do not lose another hero, or a son, a daughter, a mother or a 
father to a disease that can be overcome with an organ transplant.
  Mr. President, today is a sad day in Chicago and in our nation. We 
have lost a father, a husband, a friend, and a role model all at once. 
While we are overcome with grief, we are also reminded of the blessings 
that Payton bestowed upon his wife, Corrine, his children, Jarrett and 
Brittney, and the city of Chicago during his brief time with us.
  So thanks for the memories, Sweetness. Soldier Field will never be 
the same.

                          ____________________