[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 147 (2001), Part 8]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages 10694-10696]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]



   EXPRESSING SORROW OF THE HOUSE AT THE DEATH OF THE HONORABLE JOHN 
JOSEPH MOAKLEY, A REPRESENTATIVE FROM THE COMMONWEALTH OF MASSACHUSETTS

                                 ______
                                 

                               speech of

                         HON. JAMES P. McGOVERN

                            of massachusetts

                    in the house of representatives

                        Wednesday, June 6, 2001

  Mr. McGOVERN. Mr. Speaker, on Thursday, May 31st a vigil service 
honoring our friend and colleague Joe Moakley was held at the 
Massachusetts Statehouse in Boston.
  During the service, Father J. Donald Monan and Senator Edward M. 
Kennedy both gave moving tributes to Joe. I'd ask that both sets of 
remarks be included at an appropriate place in the Record.

        Vigil Service in Honor of John Joseph Moakley, 1927-2001


            STATE HOUSE, BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS, May 31, 2001

                   (Homily by J. Donald Monan, S.J.)

       ``Amen I say to you, whatever you did for one of these 
     least brothers of mine, you did for me.''
       Both here in Boston and in the tiny Central American 
     country of El Salvador, this is the final week of the Easter 
     Season, the season when Christ's death is still fresh in our 
     memories, but when we celebrate in faith our confidence in 
     newly-risen life. In the three short days since Memorial Day, 
     the word of Joe's passing has kindled not only the brilliance 
     of the City's writers and its cameramen; it touched their 
     hearts as well. Every step along the route of his public 
     career, from the streets of South Boston to the halls of 
     Washington, has been faithfully, even lovingly portrayed.
       Those portraits I will not attempt to retrace this evening. 
     I believe that there is one reason why Congressman Moakley 
     suggested that I have the privilege of speaking this evening. 
     Joe frequently and publicly said that of all the 
     accomplishments that were his in over forty years of public 
     service, his proudest accomplishment was in bringing to light 
     the truth about the atrocious murders of six Jesuit priest-
     educators and their

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     housekeepers at the University of Central America in El 
     Salvador. It was that thin but sharp ray of light that was 
     the beginning of the return of peace and justice to that 
     troubled land.
       As one who stood on the ground in El Salvador during Joe's 
     work there, I would like to recreate, as much as I can ten 
     years later, the circumstances that made what he did so 
     important to the world and so proud an accomplishment to Joe. 
     Why did a gruesome murder three thousand miles away stir Joe 
     Moakley to what he considered his greatest accomplishment?
       The persons murdered were Jesuit priests and two of their 
     housekeepers. People the world over, if they know of the 
     existence of Jesuits, think of us as educators. But Jesuit 
     education, especially at the University of Central America, 
     has never pursued knowledge merely for its own sake, but 
     always as a cultural force to bring about greater equality 
     among people, as an instrument to improve the condition of 
     the human family, to ease the oppression that comes from 
     poverty, at times, even the oppression of political leaders 
     who use well-trained armies to enforce their oppression.
       Such was the case in El Salvador in the decade of the '80s. 
     As Ignatio Ellacuria, the murdered Jesuit President of the 
     University of Central America expressed it: ``The reality of 
     El Salvador, the reality of the Third World, that is, the 
     reality of most of this world--is fundamentally characterized 
     by the--predominance of falsehood over truth, injustice over 
     justice, oppression over freedom, poverty over abundance, in 
     sum, of evil over good--that is the reality with which we 
     live--and we ask ourselves what to do about it in a 
     university way. We answer--: We must transform it, do all we 
     can to ensure that--freedom (predominates) over oppression, 
     justice over injustice, truth over falsehood, and love over 
     hatred. If a university does not decide to make this 
     commitment, we do not understand what validity it has as a 
     university. Much less as a Christian-inspired university.''
       It was because of this message successfully being 
     communicated that at 1 o'clock in the morning of November 16, 
     1989, a battalion of troops entered the campus of the Jesuit 
     University in El Salvador, roused the Jesuit President and 
     five of his brother professors from their sleep, forced them 
     onto a little plot of grassy land behind their simple 
     residence, and then dispatched them on the spot. They then 
     proceeded to shoot up the surrounding buildings with machine 
     guns to make the murders look as though they were perpetrated 
     by guerrilla forces.
       It all appears so clear-cut and transparent today. But when 
     it happened, the Military High Command issued a statement 
     declaring that it had been guerrillas that were responsible 
     for the murders. The American Embassy, whose government had 
     trained here in the States some of the very trigger men who 
     committed those murders, pointed the finger of blame not at 
     the military, but at the guerrillas.
       In January of 1990, the Speaker of the House appointed 
     Congressman Joe Moakley to an extraordinary, select committee 
     to investigate the crimes in El Salvador. In some ways, that 
     appointment changed Joe Moakley's life forever. But for all 
     who knew him best, from the Speaker who appointed him to the 
     former Speaker who encouraged him, that appointment simply 
     tapped into the rich veins of faith and determination and 
     courage, veins of optimistic hope and of care for those most 
     in need that had been his since childhood.
       Faith was not something that Joe wore on his sleeve or that 
     made people uncomfortable, yet it was a perspective that he 
     brought to everything he did in public and private life. It 
     was a lifelong perspective on himself and on the people 
     around him. In that perspective, he saw the inviolable 
     dignity of every human person and the irresistible call of 
     those in need; faith gave a new dimension to his sense of 
     justice and of fairness; it made him unswerving when the 
     powerful served themselves at the expense of the weak. It was 
     this faith and his courage and sense of justice Joe Moakley 
     brought to El Salvador.
       The measure of Joe Moakley's faith and of his courage in 
     carrying out his charge is the measure of the forces that 
     opposed him--not a few ruthless individuals, but the US-
     trained military establishment of a sovereign nation that 
     could enforce silence on witnesses as effectively as it had 
     committed murder. Perhaps most difficult of all, Joe also 
     faced the embarrassing efforts of some of his own 
     governmental colleagues to set false trails away from the 
     guilty and to withhold keys to the truth that they themselves 
     held.
       There is no doubt but that the authoritative voice of one 
     man and his courage to use it ultimately broke the dam of 
     silence and kindled hope that peace and justice could again 
     be realities. Within a year of his appointment, criminal 
     investigations in El Salvador were raised to the level of 
     full trials. For the first time in history, two military 
     officers were convicted for their part in the crime. Within 
     another year, peace accords were signed in the U.N. between 
     the government and its warring opponents. And although those 
     suspected of ultimately ordering the murders were never 
     tried, and men who confessed to killing the University 
     Jesuits were exonerated for acting under orders, the system 
     of governmentally-organized oppression and murder had been 
     broken. Thanks to Joe, the truth had come to light; the 
     nation itself has begun to taste the first fruits of peace. 
     And in the light of that truth and that peace, a whole people 
     have realistically begun to live again.
       What made this story the greatest accomplishment of Joe's 
     public life? It was its straight-line continuity with what 
     Joe had done all his life. It simply played out on a world 
     stage Joe's lifelong faith in the inviolable dignity of every 
     human being, his unique sense of justice and fairness and the 
     unswerving courage he had always shown on behalf of those who 
     were weak and in need. That was what Joe had been for forty 
     years in South Boston and in the halls of Congress, and most 
     of all, it was what he had believed from the first time he 
     heard the Gospel message in his Parish Church, ``Whatever you 
     did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for 
     me.''

REMARKS OF SENATOR EDWARD M. KENNEDY VIGIL SERVICE FOR CONGRESSMAN JOE 
               MOAKLEY, STATE HOUSE, BOSTON, MAY 31, 2001

       It's an honor to be here with all of you this evening to 
     pay tribute to our dear friend Joe Moakley, a remarkable 
     Congressman, an outstanding leader and one of the best 
     friends Massachusetts ever had.
       Joe tried so hard in recent months to prepare us for this 
     moment, but none of us was ready for this loss. It was simply 
     too hard to contemplate. But as Shakespeare wrote, our 
     ``cause of sorrow must not be measured by his worth, for then 
     it hath no end.'' And Joe's worth, his decency, his legacy 
     truly do have no end.
       Joe Moakley's life was a life of service to his country and 
     to his community, and he was one of the most beloved 
     political leaders of our time. He had a zest for life and a 
     love of Congress not for the glory it might bring to him, but 
     for the good he could do for the people.
       All of us who served with Joe admired his strength, his 
     wisdom, his dedication to public service, and his incredible 
     common touch that inspired the people he served so well and 
     made them love him so deeply in return. The Irish poet could 
     have been talking about Joe when he said that there were no 
     strangers, only friends he didn't met.
       Joe was a patriot in the truest sense of the word. He 
     joined the Navy at 15 to serve his country in World War II, 
     and he served honorably and well.
       He returned home and pursued higher education under the 
     G.I. Bill, eventually earning a law degree. And as it should 
     be in this great land, Joe Moakley's future was limitless--
     from the Boston City Council to the Massachusetts Legislature 
     to the halls of Congress, where he earned the respect and 
     admiration of colleagues on both sides of the aisle. Joe 
     worked long and hard and well, and always in the service of 
     the people.
       And what a beautiful team Joe and his wife Evelyn made. We 
     loved them both so much, and now, they are together again.
       We were never surprised to hear that Joe was a boxer in 
     college, because in all the years we worked with him in 
     Congress, he was always fighting for the underdog, constantly 
     helping those who needed help the most, battling skillfully 
     and tirelessly for better jobs, better education, better 
     health care, better lives and better opportunities for the 
     people he so proudly served. How fitting that it was our Joe 
     Moakley who shined the light of truth and justice on the 
     atrocities in El Salvador and changed our national policy to 
     protect human rights and promote democracy in that country. 
     Yes, Joe's life was a life of constant service.
       When I think of all Joe has done for Boston and 
     Massachusetts, I recall how brilliantly he fought for support 
     to build the South Boston Piers Transitway, to clean up 
     Boston Harbor, to modernize the Port of Boston, to preserve 
     so many Massachusetts historic sites--the Old State House, 
     the Old South Meeting house, the USS Constitution, Dorchester 
     Heights, our world-renowned marketplace, Faneuil Hall--and, 
     of course, the new federal courthouse that now proudly bears 
     his name. Because of Joe Moakley's leadership in protecting 
     and preserving and creating these extraordinary aspects of 
     our heritage, they will always be part of our state's history 
     and our nation's history too--and so will Joe.
       Even in recent months, even in recent days, even while Joe 
     struggled so bravely with the illness that finally took his 
     life, he continued to do the work of the people he loved so 
     dearly.
       And at a stage when others might be winding down or turning 
     inward, Joe continued to turn outward, establishing a 
     charitable foundation to make the dream of education a 
     reality for young people. The G.I. Bill had given Joe a 
     chance to reach for the stars, and Joe's commitment, through 
     his foundation, will give countless young people a chance to 
     reach for the stars too. Joe never forgot where he came from, 
     and he never stopped working to serve the people he loved so 
     much.
       He was elected to the Massachusetts House in 1952--the same 
     year that a young Congressman named John F. Kennedy was first

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     elected to the Senate. And now, the Moakley Public Speaking 
     Institute--to be launched this summer at the Kennedy Library 
     to teach public speaking skills and public service to local 
     low-income high school students--will forever link Joe 
     Moakley to President Kennedy.
       As my brother said so eloquently on the eve of his 
     inauguration, in his farewell address here to the State 
     Legislature:
       ``When at some future date the high court of history sits 
     in judgment on each of us, our success or failure will be 
     measured by the answers to four questions:
       --Were we truly men of courage?
       --Were we truly men of judgment?
       --Were we truly men of integrity?
       --Were we truly men of dedication?
       Measured by those four high standards, Joe Moakley was 
     ``four for four''--he batted a thousand in the annals of 
     public life.
       Service to his nation. Service to his State. Service to his 
     District. Service to his people. Service. Service. Service.
       It's no wonder that God chose to call him home on Memorial 
     Day--the national day of honor for those who served the 
     nation so well. We miss you, Joe, and we always will.
       Near the end of Pilgrim's Progress, there is a passage that 
     tells of the death of Valiant, and it could well have been 
     written about Joe Moakley:
       ``Then, he said, I am going to my Father's; and though with 
     great difficulty I am got hither, yet now I do not regret me 
     of all the troubles I have been at to arrive where I am. My 
     sword I give to him that shall succeed me in my pilgrimage, 
     and my courage and skill to him that can get it. My marks and 
     scars I carry with me, to be a witness for me, that I have 
     fought his battle who now will be my rewarder.
       ``When the day that must go hence was come, many 
     accompanied him to the riverside, into which as he went he 
     said, `Death, where is they sting?' and as he went down 
     deeper, he said, `Grave, where is thy victory?' So he passed 
     over, and all the trumpets sounded for him on the other side.

     

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