[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 147 (2001), Part 8]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages 11495-11496]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]



           TRIBUTE TO THE LATE HONORABLE JOHN JOSEPH MOAKLEY

                                 ______
                                 

                          HON. RICHARD E. NEAL

                            of massachusetts

                    in the house of representatives

                        Thursday, June 21, 2001

  Mr. NEAL of Massachusetts. Mr. Speaker, I would like to take this 
opportunity today to enter into the Congressional Record the eloquent 
remarks delivered on June 1, 2001 in Boston by William M. Bulger, 
President of the University of Massachusetts, at the funeral of our 
colleague, the Honorable John Joseph Moakley.
  These brief remarks speak volumes about the quality of the life of 
our friend Joe, and I submit them for the Record so that they may be 
forever be a part of our nation's history.

  Remarks Delivered at the Funeral of U.S. Representative John Joseph 
   Moakley by University of Massachusetts President William M. Bulger

       It is of surpassing significance, isn't it, that Joe was 
     summoned to the joy of eternity on Memorial Day? A day set 
     apart for reflection and tribute in grateful memory of all 
     who have given their lives for the strength and durability of 
     the country we love.
       Joe's spirit enlivens Memorial Day for us: patriotism, 
     gratitude, remembrance. Long years of unselfish devotion to 
     bringing the ordinary blessings of compassion to those most 
     needy among us stand as silent sentinels to his inherent 
     goodness, to his desire to make a difference in the quality 
     of life for less fortunate friends and neighbors.
       His helping hand was always extended in genuine recognition 
     of the responsibility he believed was his to make things 
     better for those in need of encouragement and inspiration. To 
     him the ideal of brotherhood was not simply something to be 
     preached but, more importantly, he was challenged by his soul 
     to exemplify this ideal in positive advancement of the common 
     good.
       Everyone knows the facts of Joseph Moakley's background and 
     career. They are impressive and worth knowing, but they 
     reveal little about the man himself, little of who he was, of 
     what he was, and of why.
       He lived his entire life on this peninsula, and it was here 
     in this place that his character was shaped. It was, and it 
     still is, a place where roots run deep, where traditions are 
     cherished, a place of strong faith, of strong values, deeply 
     held: commitment to the efficacy of work, to personal 
     courage, to the importance of good reputation--and withal, to 
     an almost fierce sense of loyalty.
       No one spent much time talking of such things, but they 
     were inculcated.
       And no one absorbed those values more thoroughly than did 
     Joseph Moakley. To understand them is to understand him.
       In recent months Joe Moakley would reassure his friends in 
     private conversation that he slept well, ate three meals 
     easily, and was not afraid.
       He had a little bit of the spirit of the Irish poet (Oliver 
     St. John Gogarty), who said on the subject of death:

     Enough! Why should a man bemoan A fate that leads a natural 
           way? Or think himself worthier than Those who braved it 
           in their day?

     If only gladiators died or heroes Then death would be their 
           pride; But have not little maidens gone And Lesbia's 
           sparrow--all alone?

       The virtue of courage was his in abundance. But Joe had, 
     during his lifetime, become the personification of all that 
     was best in his hometown.
       And he was a man of memory; he recognized the danger of 
     forgetting what it was to be hungry once we are fed . . . and 
     he would, in a pensive moment, speak of that tendency to 
     forget as a dangerous fault.
       Joe exemplified the words of Seneca: You must live for your 
     neighbor, if you would live for yourself.
       And he abided by the words of Leviticus in the Old 
     Testament and St. Matthew in the New Testament, ``Thou shalt 
     love they neighbor as thyself.'' These are words that he 
     would have absorbed at home, at St. Monica's, St. Augustine's 
     and at St. Brigid's.
       And Joe brought his competence, dedication, his lofty 
     principle to the public purpose that he saw as most 
     worthwhile. His steady determination in his various public 
     offices, and as a member of Congress, earned him the respect 
     of his colleagues and the confidence of his party's 
     leadership. It also explains the overwhelming support he 
     received from a truly grateful constituency as expressed in 
     their many votes for him solidifying his position of public 
     responsibility.
       His devotion to justice and imbedded sense of humanity 
     moved him to investigate the Jesuit murders and the ravishing 
     of innocent women in El Salvador. He volunteered for a task 
     most unusual for him. But he, guided by his aide, Jim 
     McGovern, brought to bear his own deep commitment and those 
     old solid working principles that had become a cornerstone in 
     his lifetime quest for fairness and equity. The success of 
     his effort is recognized by all, especially by an 
     appreciative Jesuit community that had suffered from a sense 
     of abandonment.
       When I saw how he thought about that particular achievement 
     in his life, it brought to mind the wonderful words of 
     Pericles: ``It is by honor, and not by gold, that the 
     helpless end of life is cheered.''
       Joe, dear friend and neighbor through these many eventful 
     years, we are stuck, as we think about it, by your startling 
     contradiction: humility and pride. You were never pompous 
     seeking the applause of the grandstand. You diligently 
     shunned the glare of the spotlight. You did not expend your 
     energy in search of preening acclaim. You were too self-
     effacing for that. Humble, indeed.
       On the other hand you were a proud, proud person: proud of 
     your religious faith, proud of your family, proud of your 
     South Boston roots and neighborhood, proud to proclaim the 
     ideals that animated your public service--ideals that have 
     been expressed in the unsought torrent of tribute that has 
     flooded the press and airwaves in recent sad days. Humility 
     and pride, seemingly contradictory trait, coalesced in your 
     admirable character, commanding abiding recognition, respect 
     and, yes, affection.
       Joe, the dramatic focus on you during the President's 
     recent appearance before the

[[Page 11496]]

     Congress highlighted your humility and pride. During the 
     course of his address, our eminent President Bush paused for 
     a moment to digress. He singled you out Joe, for special 
     recognition. He described you as ``a good man.'' Whereupon, 
     as you stood in your place, spontaneous bipartisan applause 
     shook the Congress. This episode also reverberated in 
     thrilling dimensions throughout your Congressional District. 
     Thank you President Bush for this tribute to a good man and 
     for other manifestations of your respect for our Joe and his 
     services to his country.
       Joe, you were good enough, as one neighbor to another, to 
     ask me to participate in this liturgy of sacrifice, sorrow 
     and remembrance. With many another heavy heart it is 
     wrenching to say goodbye. God is with you, I'm sure Joe, as 
     you now join your beloved Evelyn and your parents in the 
     saintly joy of eternity. We pray He may look favorably on us 
     who lament your loss and who are challenged to follow your 
     example of integrity and justice and useful service.
       Fair forward, good friend.

       

                          ____________________