[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 148 (2002), Part 8]
[Senate]
[Pages 11299-11301]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                      TRIBUTE TO JUSTIN DART, JR.

  Mr. HARKIN. Mr. President, Saturday was a sad day for America and for 
all who have fought so hard for the rights of people with disabilities 
in our society. On Saturday, our Nation lost one of its great heroes: 
My good friend, Justin Dart, Jr.
  Justin Dart was the godfather of the disability rights movement. For 
30 years he fought to end prejudice against people with disabilities, 
to strengthen the disabilities right movement, to protect the rights of 
people with disabilities. Millions of Americans with disabilities never 
knew his name but they owe him so much.
  Justin was born August 28, 1930. His grandfather was the founder of 
the Walgreen Drug store chain. His father was also a very successful 
businessman. Justin was the son of privilege and wealth, but he became 
the brother of the forgotten and the downtrodden, those whom society 
left on the roadside of life. From the time that polio left him a 
wheelchair user in 1948, to this past Saturday when he passed away, 
Justin lived a life dedicated to social justice for people with 
disabilities and for all people regardless of race or gender or sexual 
orientation. He is, of course, best known as the godfather of the 
disabilities rights movement and the father of the Americans With 
Disabilities Act.
  Justin was both a close personal friend of mine and a mentor for me 
on disability policy. When I first came to the Senate--after having 
worked in the House on a couple of disability issues because I had a 
brother who was disabled; I came to the Senate in 1985--at that time 
there was a big movement on to pass a Civil Rights Act for Americans 
with disabilities. I got caught up in that.
  I wondered, is it possible we could ever pass a civil rights bill for 
people with disabilities? Through a set of circumstances and fate, I 
became the chairman of the Disability Policy Subcommittee and then 
became the lead sponsor of the Americans With Disabilities Act. It was 
under my sponsorship on that committee, and with the guiding hand of 
Senator Kennedy of Massachusetts, who was the chairman of the full 
committee, that we were able to get the bill through both the House and 
the Senate, signed into law July 26, 1990, by President George Bush.
  When I first got here and became involved with the disability rights 
movement and with the jelling, the pulling together of all these people 
to get the Americans With Disabilities Act passed, it did not take me 
long to realize it was Justin Dart who was pulling the pieces together. 
For so many years, the disability community has been segregated and 
segmented--the deaf community, the blind community, those who used 
wheelchairs, those with mental disabilities, those who had illnesses 
and diseases. Various forms of disability had their own segments but no 
one brought them together under an umbrella. It was the power and the 
force, the magnetism of Justin Dart that brought it together, that made 
it into a movement whereby we could actually get the Americans With 
Disabilities Act passed.
  It was fitting that on July 26, 1990, we all gathered on the White 
House lawn for the biggest gathering for a bill signing on the White 
House lawn in the history of this country. It was a gorgeous, sunny 
day. We were all there. Senator Dole had been a great companion in 
helping get the bill passed on the Senate side; so many people from the 
House side, including Tony Coelho, Steny Hoyer, but there on the 
platform was President Bush and Justin Dart. It was right that he was 
there on that platform.
  When President Bush signed the Americans With Disabilities Act, he 
gave the first pen to Justin Dart. He truly was the one who brought us 
together and gave the inspiration and guidance to get this wonderful, 
magnificent bill through.
  The rest, as they say, is history. Go anywhere in America today and 
you will see people with disabilities in workplaces, in schools, 
traveling with their families to restaurants, going to theaters, going 
to sports arenas. All new buildings have wide doorways, ramps 
everywhere. No building being built today is not accessible--because of 
the Americans With Disabilities Act, because of Justin Dart.
  What a tremendous legacy. Justin was a recipient of five Presidential 
appointments, numerous honors, including the Hubert Humphrey Award of 
the Leadership Conference on Civil Rights. In 1998, Justin Dart 
received a Presidential Medal of Freedom, the Nation's highest civilian 
award. Before he passed away on Saturday, Justin left a letter. I don't 
know exactly when it was written. But I think Justin knew that his time 
on Earth was not going to be much longer. He had a series of setbacks. 
He lost his leg just about 3 years ago. We thought we lost him then, 
but, man, he came back strong and continued to lead. He wrote this 
letter, which is just so profound.
  I ask unanimous consent to have this last letter from Justin Dart 
printed in the Record.
  There being no objection, the letter was ordered to be printed in the 
Record, as follows:

                                              Justin Dart, Jr.

                                                   Washington, DC.
     I am with you. I love you. Lead on.
       Dearly Beloved: Listen to the heart of this old soldier. As 
     with all of us the time comes when body and mind are battered 
     and weary. But I do not go quietly into the night. I do not 
     give up struggling to be a responsible contributor to the 
     sacred continuum of human life. I do not give up struggling 
     to overcome my weakness, to conform my life--and that part of 
     my life called death--to the great values of the human dream.
       Death is not a tragedy. It is not an evil from which we 
     must escape. Death is as natural as birth. Like childbirth 
     death is often a time of fear and pain, but also of profound 
     beauty, of celebration of the mystery and majesty which is 
     life pushing its horizons toward oneness with the truth of 
     mother universe. The days of dying carry a special 
     responsibility. There is a great potential to communicate 
     values in a uniquely powerful way--the person who dies 
     demonstrating for civil rights.
       Let my final actions thunder of love solidarity, protest--
     of empowerment.
       I adamantly protest the richest culture in the history of 
     the world, a culture which has the obvious potential to 
     create a golden age of science and democracy dedicated to 
     maximizing the quality of life of every person, but which 
     still squanders the majority of its human and physical 
     capital on modern versions of primitive symbols of power and 
     prestige.
       I adamantly protest the richest culture in the history of 
     the world which still incarcerates millions of humans with 
     and without disabilities in barbaric institutions, backrooms 
     and worse, windowless cells of oppressive perceptions, for 
     the lack of the most elementary empowerment supports.
       I call for solidarity among all who love justice all who 
     love life, to create a revolution that will empower every 
     single human being to govern his or her life, to govern the 
     society and to be fully productive of life quality for self 
     and for all.
       I do so love all the patriots of this and every nation who 
     have fought and sacrificed to bring us to the threshold of 
     this beautiful human dream. I do so love America the 
     beautiful and our wild, creative beautiful people. I do so 
     love you, my beautiful colleagues in the disability and civil 
     rights movement.
       My relationship with Yoshiko Dart includes, but also 
     transcends, love as the word is normally defined. She is my 
     wife, my partner, my mentor, my leader and my inspiration to 
     believe that the human dream can live. She is the greatest 
     human being I have ever known.
       Yoshiko, beloved colleagues, I am the luckiest man in the 
     world to have been associated with you. Thanks to you, I die 
     free. Thanks to you, I die in the joy of struggle. Thanks to 
     you, I die in the beautiful belief that the revolution of 
     empowerment will go on. I love you so much. I'm with you 
     always. Lead on! Lead on!
                                                       Justin Dart

  Mr. HARKIN. I will not read the whole thing but I feel constrained to 
read parts. He said:

     I am with you. I love you. Lead on.
       Dearly Beloved: Listen to the heart of this old soldier. As 
     with all of us the time comes when body and mind are battered 
     and weary. But I do not go quietly into the night.

[[Page 11300]]

     I do not give up struggling to be a responsible contributor 
     to the sacred continuum of human life. I do not give up 
     struggling to overcome my weakness, to conform my life--and 
     that part of my life called death--to the great values of the 
     human dream.
       Death is not a tragedy. It is not an evil from which we 
     must escape. Death is as natural as birth. Like childbirth, 
     death is often a time of fear and pain, but also of profound 
     beauty, of the celebration of the mystery and the majesty 
     which is life pushing its horizons towards oneness with the 
     truth of mother universe. The days of dying carry a special 
     responsibility. There is a great potential to communicate 
     values in a uniquely powerful way--the person who dies 
     demonstrating for civil rights.
       Let my final actions thunder of love, solidarity, protest--
     of empowerment.
       I call for solidarity among all who love justice, all who 
     love life, to create a revolution that will empower every 
     single human being to govern his or her life, to govern the 
     society and to be fully productive of life quality for self 
     and for all.

  That was written by a man who knew he was dying.
  Justin continues:

       I do so love all the patriots of this and every nation who 
     have fought and sacrificed to bring us to the threshold of 
     this beautiful human dream. I do so love America the 
     beautiful and our wild, creative, beautiful people. I do so 
     love you, my beautiful colleagues in the disability and civil 
     rights movement.
       My relationship with Yoshiko Dart includes, but also 
     transcends, love as the word is normally defined. She is my 
     wife, my partner, my mentor, my leader and my inspiration to 
     believe that the human dream can live. She is the greatest 
     human being I have ever known.

  Continuing to speak about his wife he said:

       Yoshiko, beloved colleagues, I am the luckiest man in the 
     world to have been associated with you. Thanks to you, I die 
     free. Thanks to you, I die in the joy of struggle. Thanks to 
     you, I die in the beautiful belief that the revolution of 
     empowerment will go on. I love you so much. I am with you 
     always. Lead on. Lead on.
  He was truly one of the most beautiful humans with whom I have ever 
been privileged to associate. We shared many memorable moments 
together. I was proud to be at his side when he received the Medal of 
Freedom from President Clinton. But I always remember best, and forever 
in my mind's eye will be embedded, him sitting there, next to President 
Bush when President Bush signed the Americans with Disabilities Act.
  Not many people know it, but Justin Dart, with that wheelchair and 
his wonderful wife Yoshiko, visited every one of the 50 States in order 
to lay the groundwork for the passage of the Americans with 
Disabilities Act. And Justin knew that our work did not end with the 
ADA. He knew it was just the beginning. Even just a few short weeks ago 
he attended a rally I was at for MiCASSA, the Medicaid Community-based 
Attendant Services and Supports Act, a bill that Senator Specter and I 
are cosponsoring.
  I was surprised that Justin was there but very pleased to see him 
leading, as usual, even though I knew that his health had not been 
good. He had to curtail many of his activities. But we had a couple of 
hundred people there from the disabled community and, I am telling you, 
his voice was as strong and as powerful and as persuasive as I have 
ever heard, and that was just a couple of weeks ago. To the very end he 
had that fire in his eyes and that strong voice.
  In the final week before he passed away, Justin personally attended 
four events to push for more civil rights for people with disabilities. 
He never hesitated to emphasize the assistance he received from those 
working with him--as you can tell from the letter I just read, most 
especially his wife of more than 30 years, Yoshiko Saji. She was, as he 
often said, quite simply the most magnificent human being. As in life, 
Yoshiko was at his side when Justin passed away this weekend. He is 
survived not only by Yoshiko and their extended family of foster 
children, many friends, colleagues and relatives, but also by millions 
of disability and human rights activists all over the world.
  The average American may not ever have heard of Justin Dart. They may 
go through their lives never having heard of him. But I will tell you 
this, any person with a disability in this country who has struggled 
and fought, gone to school, moving ahead in life, they will know who 
Justin Dart was and they will know what he did for them and for our 
country to make our country more inclusive, to bring us altogether.
  So I will personally miss Justin Dart: that strong voice, the cowboy 
hat and the cowboy boots, that piercing gaze of his that sort of 
stripped away all the phoniness of life. When he rolled up in that 
wheelchair and he got in front of a microphone and started to speak, it 
was power, passion, commitment. It will not be the same in the struggle 
for civil rights for people with disabilities. It will not be the same 
in our struggle for MiCASSA, which we have to pass.
  People with disabilities are about the only ones left in our society 
where the Government decides what they are going to do with you rather 
than what you do with the money. MiCASSA says that, basically the money 
should follow the person--not the person following the money.
  Quite frankly, it was a Georgia case in which the Supreme Court 
decided that people with disabilities had to first be able to live in 
the most open setting, in a community-based setting in their homes and 
in their communities rather than institutions. It was a great case in 
the State of Georgia.
  This legislation is proposing what Justin worked so hard for--
basically to say let the person decide, let that individual decide 
whether they want to live in their home and not in a nursing home.
  That is what this fight for MiCASSA is all about. I am sorry we 
didn't get it passed before he passed away. But I can assure you that 
the fight will continue. We will not rest until people with 
disabilities have all the rights that people without disabilities have 
in our society.
  Justin will be remembered as a person who removed all these barriers. 
We will miss his passion, his sense of justice, his unwavering 
leadership, and, as I said, his strong and clear voice. Justin Dart 
will continue to inspire us to carry on. His message will continue to 
speak for the next generation of leaders. I always said to Justin: Hang 
in there.
  We almost lost him a couple of years ago when his leg was removed. I 
said: Justin, you have to hang in there. He always said: There are more 
behind me. And there are. A whole new generation of young people is 
coming up under the Americans with Disabilities Act. They have been 
able to go to school, they have gotten an education, and they are 
moving on. They are not going to let the clock be turned back.
  I am convinced that sooner, rather than later, we will get the 
MiCASSA bill passed and permit people with disabilities to live in 
their own homes. We will do it in the name of Justin Dart. In his name, 
we will remove the last remaining barriers.
  Mr. JEFFORDS. Mr. President, I rise today to honor the memory and the 
spirit of Justin W. Dart Jr., a tireless advocate for the rights of 
disabled persons, who passed away on June 22 at his Washington home at 
the age of 71.
  I feel so privileged to have had the honor of knowing and working 
with Justin. Many on Capitol Hill may remember him, in his cowboy hat, 
offering critical input as we worked to draft the Americans With 
Disabilities Act.
  On July 26, 1990, Justin was at the side of President George Bush 
when the President signed the bill into law. Justin referred to that 
event as ``a landmark date in the evolution of human culture,'' and we 
all have Justin to thank for his immeasurable gift to that evolution.
  Justin was tireless in his travels, visiting all 50 States, not once 
but at least four times, to promote the ADA legislation. He also 
traveled around he world to advocate for full civil rights protection 
for people with disabilities.
  In 1998, he once again found himself at the side of a President, this 
time Bill Clinton, who presented Justin with the Medal of Freedom, the 
Nation's highest civilian honor.
  It would be impossible in this short tribute to list the awards and 
accomplishments that marked his life, but it is fair to say that Justin 
Dart, who used a wheelchair from the age of 18 after contracting polio, 
found his calling in life. And we are all much richer for the 
experience.

[[Page 11301]]

  I yield the floor. I suggest the absence of a quorum.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The clerk will call the roll.
  The legislative clerk proceeded to call the role.
  Mr. DASCHLE. Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order 
for the quorum call be rescinded.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without objection, it is so ordered.

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