[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 150 (2004), Part 6]
[Senate]
[Pages 7275-7277]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                        TRIBUTE TO MARY McGRORY

  Mr. DURBIN. Madam President, I thank the Senator from Nevada for 
trying to accommodate a number of us who are anxious to come to the 
floor and say a few words about a great woman.
  America lost one of its greatest journalists last night. Washington 
Post columnist Mary McGrory filed her last story at George Washington 
Hospital. Mary McGrory has been described by her peers as a ``luminous 
writer,'' ``the clearest thinker in the business,'' ``a pioneering 
force in today's journalism,'' ``a lyrical writer.''
  She hailed from the same Boston Irish roots as Tip O'Neill. She found 
the love of her life in the written word. She made it to the top in a 
man's world of reporting and sharp-elbow politics. There are those who 
ply their journalistic trade with blunt instruments and short-lived 
prose, but there are a few who make their word march and sing. Mary 
McGrory was one of those few.
  I first heard her name 38 years ago when I was a college intern in 
the Senate. I can recall Senator Paul Douglas' personal secretary 
telling the Senator Mary McGrory was waiting to see him. Thirty years 
later, elected to the Senate, my staff would tell me, Mary McGrory is 
waiting to see you.
  One could not help but be drawn to Mary, her Irish wit, her boundless 
energy, even in the later years. Her blunt criticism of hypocrisy and 
venality were a joy to witness.
  It was my good fortune to be a member of Mary McGrory's ``fruitcake 
club.'' It was a loose conspiracy drawn together for dinner at Mary's 
home at least once a year to celebrate the much honored but seldom 
eaten fruitcake which Senator Max Cleland sent to Mary at Christmas. We 
would all arrive late after votes on the House and Senate floor--Max 
Cleland, Congresswoman Louise Slaughter of New York, Phil and Melanne 
Verveer, longtime friends and a few new aspirants to the club. What 
followed were endless rounds of wine and a beef roast that always 
seemed to need a return trip to the oven.
  After dinner, we would move to the living room surrounded by the 
mementos of Mary's storied career, reminders of her proud mention on 
Richard Nixon's enemy's list, rollcalls from the Watergate hearing and 
more. Over her desk, where she sat down to write at home, was a poem by 
her beloved W B. Yeats entitled ``Adam's Curse.''
  I spotted it and started to read it one evening at the party, and 
Mary saw me. She walked over and recited from memory this part of the 
poem:

     Better go down upon your marrow-bones
     And scrub a kitchen pavement, or break stones
     Like an old pauper, in all kinds of weather;
     For to articulate sweet sounds together
     Is to work harder than all these, and yet
     Be thought an idler by the noisy set
     Of bankers, schoolmasters and clergymen
     The martyrs call the world.

  Mary McGrory understood the burden of good writing. Yeats tells us in 
this poem that producing something beautiful is not easy, though it has 
the curse of looking easy. Mary McGrory did indeed make it look easy. 
Mary's poetry and beauty were shared in her word and in her life, and 
many of us were blessed to be a very small part of it.
  Before she was cruelly silenced by a stroke last year, Mary would 
write and speak with the emotion of a poet's heart. I recall our last 
dinner when she turned and recited to me one of her favorite poems by 
William Butler Yeats. It is entitled ``When You Are Old.''

     When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
     And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
     And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
     Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
     How many loved your moments of glad grace,
     And loved your beauty with love false or true,
     But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
     And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
     And bending down beside the glowing bars,
     Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
     And paced upon the mountains overhead
     And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

  In the clear night sky over our Nation's Capital there will always be 
one bright star called Mary.
  I yield the floor.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The Senator from Nevada.
  Mr. REID. I personally express my appreciation to Senator Durbin for 
his remarkable words on behalf of a tremendously interesting woman. I 
did not know Mary McGrory when she was a young woman; I only knew her 
when she was an older woman. She would

[[Page 7276]]

come to my office and say: You have got more to tell me than that.
  She was a wonderful person, and I was a newcomer to her fruitcake 
society gatherings, but I do say that one of the things that did break 
her heart was the defeat of Max Cleland. She talked to me about that 
more than she talked to me about many other things. She cared a great 
deal about Max, and of all of the unfairness in life that she had seen 
that was at the top of her list.
  Mary McGrory is somebody who stood for fairness. A lot of people in 
the world are for fairness and level playing fields, but very few 
people are gifted. She was gifted. There are gifted athletes in the 
world. She was a gifted writer. She could write and you would say to 
yourself, that is how I feel, why can I not express it the way she 
does?
  I will miss Mary very much. She was a wonderful woman, someone I will 
always remember as a person who not only believed in level playing 
fields but created many level playing fields during her lifetime.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The Senator from Utah.
  Mr. HATCH. Madam President, Mary McGrory was not always easy on me. 
In fact, sometimes I thought she was a little tough on me. On the other 
hand, I have to acknowledge she was a great writer. I enjoyed her 
personally. We had a number of conversations where we had very pleasant 
exchanges.
  There is no question she was truly one of the most important 
journalists in this town. She was critical to the Washington Post. She 
believed what she did, she believed what she wrote, and she wrote well 
and set journalistic standards for many young journalists to follow.
  I personally respected her and am grieved at her death. It was not 
unexpected. We know she had some difficulties over the last few years. 
But I, for one, will grieve at her death.
  Mr. KENNEDY. Madam President, the Kennedy family, the city, and the 
nation lost a respected and valued friend yesterday with the passing of 
Mary McGrory.
  My brothers, Jack and Bobby, admired her, as America does and did. 
Mary was Boston Irish to the core. Boston is proud of its many sons and 
daughters who have played a role in the country's life, and Mary 
McGrory was certainly in our nation's Hall of Fame as one of the all-
time greats in journalism.
  Here in the Nation's Capital, in this city of America's monuments, 
Mary McGrory belongs among them. She will always be remembered and 
respected for her keen intellect, her deep allegiance to the truth, her 
unquestioned integrity, her respect for principled leadership, as well 
as her impatience for empty policies and hollow politics.
  Mary loved the issues, but she also loved her flowers and she loved 
to quote the poet Yeats. She was steeped with a keen sense of the 
levity of life, and she held everyone she met to the same high 
standards that she expected for herself. No other journalist could cut 
to the heart of a complicated issue as quickly or as beautifully as 
Mary McGrory could. Millions across the Nation eagerly looked for her 
writings, and the glow of her morning columns could last the entire 
day. I often thought she should win a Pulitzer Prize every year.
  Vicky and I had the chance to visit with Mary last month. We were 
saddened by her long illness, but she remained the same beautiful, 
inquisitive, insightful, and full-of-life Mary to the very end. We'll 
miss her very much. We love you, Mary, and we always will.
  Mr. DODD. Madam President, it is with a great deal of sadness that I 
rise in memory of an outstanding journalist and a good friend, Mary 
McGrory, who passed away last night at the age of 85.
  Mary was truly one of the most accomplished journalists of our time. 
She was a real news reporter--one who spent enormous amounts of time 
and energy getting to the bottom of a story, and then spent hours more 
putting it into the right words. With her trademark wit and Pulitzer-
Prize winning prose, Mary McGrory helped millions of Americans 
understand some of the most significant events of the past 50 years--
from the McCarthy hearings, the Kennedy assassination, and Watergate to 
the attacks of September 11 and the buildup to the war in Iraq.
  She began her career in journalism writing book reviews and other 
pieces for the Boston Herald-Traveler. In 1947, she transferred to the 
Washington Star, and it was there that she made her mark as a reporter. 
She remained at the Star until the paper shut down in 1981. From then 
on, she wrote for the Washington Post for over two decades. The only 
thing that could stop Mary from writing was the stroke she suffered a 
little over a year ago.
  Mary's skill, integrity, and relentless effort won her tremendous 
esteem from her colleagues, as well as from the public figures whose 
lives and actions she detailed. Mary broke into a field that was very 
much a man's world, and she established herself as one of its giants. 
Her stature was clear to anyone who ever saw her during a political 
campaign, when fellow reporters and even the candidates themselves 
would literally carry her bags.
  Mary came from the old school of reporting. During her later years, 
while many of her younger colleagues traveled with laptops, digital 
recorders, and cell phones, Mary made do with her pen and notebook.
  Mary was never one to beat around the bush in her writing. You always 
knew where she stood. Her no-nonsense approach could delight those who 
agreed with her, and infuriate those who did not. But regardless of 
whether you were on her side or not, Mary McGrory earned your respect.
  I was fortunate to experience not only Mary's writing, but her 
singular personality. She was truly someone who enjoyed life and tried 
to squeeze every last drop out of it.
  I would like to share a few thoughts on Mary from some of her 
colleagues:
  David Broder of the Washington Post said:

       If you traveled with Mary, you watched a consummate 
     craftsman hard at work, an interviewer whose soft purr put 
     citizens at ease and disarmed the most hard-shelled old pols. 
     She talked with everyone, and everyone, great and small, 
     wanted to talk with her.

  Leonard Downie, Jr., the Executive Editor of the Washington Post:

       Mary was simply one of the best opinion columnists of her 
     time.

  Maureen Dowd of the New York Times called Mary:

     the most luminous writer and clearest thinker in the 
     business.

  Finally, Brian McGrory of the Boston Globe, who is also Mary's 
cousin, described Mary's life as:

     one of the most important, colorful, and enduring newspaper 
     careers that the American public has had the pleasure to 
     read.

  I mourn Mary's passing. But I also celebrate her life. She was truly 
an outstanding reporter and writer, and a remarkable human being. We 
will all miss her very much.
  Mr. REID. Madam President, I suggest the absence of a quorum.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The clerk will call the roll.
  The assistant legislative clerk proceeded to call the roll.
  Mr. REID. Madam President, I ask unanimous consent that the order for 
the quorum call be rescinded.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without objection, it is so ordered.
  Mr. REID. Madam President, I ask unanimous consent that the time on 
the quorum call run equally against both sides.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without objection, it is so ordered.
  Mr. REID. I suggest the absence of a quorum.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The clerk will call the roll.
  The assistant legislative clerk proceeded to call the roll.
  Mr. DORGAN. Madam President, I ask unanimous consent the order for 
the quorum call be rescinded.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without objection, it is so ordered.
  Mr. DORGAN. How much time remains in morning business on our side?
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. There are 28\1/2\ minutes remaining.
  Mr. DORGAN. Let me yield as much time as I may consume to myself.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without objection, it is so ordered.
  Mr. DORGAN. This morning's news is very sad news for those of us who 
knew

[[Page 7277]]

and loved Mary McGrory, one of the wonderful writers of our age, one of 
the really interesting thinkers and warm and wonderful human beings. 
According to the news reports, she died last evening at a hospital here 
in Washington, DC.
  I wrote her a letter some months ago telling Mary, after she had 
fallen ill:

       I have been waiting and hoping that I may again see your 
     byline in the Washington Post. I remain hopeful that we will 
     once again be able to start the day by reading a Mary McGrory 
     column and then shaking our fist in the air, shouting: Yes 
     that is what I should have said.

  Mary never did get back to work. Her column never again appeared. But 
this Capitol Building, the op-ed pages of the Washington Post, and 
political discourse in this country for 50 years have been affected by 
what Mary thought, what Mary said, and what Mary wrote.
  She was quite a remarkable person. She won a Pulitzer Prize. She 
covered the major events for over 50 years, and she wrote columns using 
words that were extraordinary. She would find ways to say things that 
most of us are at a loss to explain.
  Often in the morning I would open the newspaper to see the Mary 
McGrory column and think how wonderfully she wrote. More than that, she 
was also a very special friend to many of us, in many ways. She would 
stand outside this Chamber, sometimes early in the morning, sometimes 
late at night, and she would get the story. She would do the hard work, 
ask the questions, follow people until she got answers, and then she 
would write her column. Her cousin, Brian McGrory, wrote a piece that 
appeared in the Boston Globe and the Washington Post about Mary. He 
probably describes her best, and in many ways brings a smile to those 
of us who knew Mary. He said:

       While most Washington pundits closet themselves with their 
     own profound thoughts, interrupted only by lunch at the Palm 
     with the Secretary of Something, Mary employs old-fashioned 
     tools: a sensible pair of shoes, a Bic, and a notebook. She 
     haunts congressional hearings. She sits with the unwashed in 
     the back of the White House briefing room.

  He also said at the end of his article--this is an article that was 
written last November when Mary was ill:

       Hers is a world of soft irony. She checks into elaborate 
     spas in Italy every year, but while there, always gains a few 
     pounds. She was audited by the Nixon administration and got a 
     refund. At a stiff Washington party she once whispered to me, 
     ``Always approach the shrimp bowl like you own it.''

  Mary McGrory was a wonderful human being with a great sense of humor. 
But she wrote like the wind. I wish I could again see her byline. David 
Broder in January wrote a wonderful piece about Mary Mack. He began:

       I am headed out this week for my 12th presidential 
     campaign, but unlike the first 11, I will not have the 
     company of my favorite traveling companion, Mary McGrory. The 
     great liberal columnist, surely the most elegant newspaper 
     writer Americans have read over the past half-century, has 
     been ill since last March and recently accepted the generous 
     buyout offer given to veteran employees by the Post. 
     Incomprehensible as it seems, she has finished her 
     journalistic career.

  Then David Broder, in his own inimitable style, describes Mary 
McGrory.
  I think of Mary McGrory. I think of not just seeing her here in the 
Capitol, or having lunch with Mary, I think of the questions she would 
ask politicians. I was on the receiving end of a number of those 
questions: Always coming from the oblique, always a bit different, from 
a slightly different angle, always from a slightly different 
perspective. Often they were the questions others didn't ask or 
wouldn't ask. She had a very inquiring mind and she had a wonderful 
ability to write.
  So we will no longer be blessed with the presence of Mary McGrory 
here in this Capitol Building and in this Capitol of the United States, 
covering the major events, which she started doing 50 years ago in the 
McCarthy hearings. But she will be in our thoughts forever. My thoughts 
and prayers go out to Mary's relatives.
  I attended a service once at which Senator Byrd spoke. He finished 
with a quote from Thomas Moore. The last two lines were:

     You can shatter, you can break the vase if you will,
     But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.

  Although Mary has passed and all of us are saddened by the loss of a 
friend and America has lost one of the great writers in the last half 
century, Mary will remain with us forever.
  I yield the floor.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The Senator from Montana.
  Mr. BURNS. It is my understanding we are still in morning business 
and we have about 5 or 6 minutes remaining on our side?
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. There are 18 minutes remaining.
  Mr. BURNS. I ask unanimous consent that I may proceed and use that 
time up.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The Senator from Nevada.
  Mr. REID. I say to my friend from Montana, that is true. We extended 
your side an additional 10 minutes. Your time was gone, but now you 
have additional time. As to when it is used now--you were to get the 
first half; we were to get the second half. It is kind of a jump ball 
right now, so you have the floor for 11\1/2\ minutes.

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