[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 150 (2004), Part 7]
[Senate]
[Pages 9580-9581]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                          DEATH OF HOPE HARRIS

  Mr. CHAFEE. Mr. President, it is with great sadness that I speak 
about a true friend and colleague. For 26 years, Hope Harris served the 
people of Rhode Island as a member of my staff, and prior to that, on 
the staff of my late father, Senator John H. Chafee. Hope Harris was 
known to thousands of Rhode Islanders who have visited and telephoned 
their Senator as the sympathetic and trustworthy professional answering 
the phone and the door at the front desk in their Senator's Providence 
office. She was without peer in her ability to convey, in a brief 
encounter, that the mission of the Senator's State operation is to help 
people in any way possible. On May 12, Hope died after a difficult 
struggle with cancer.
  Hope's impact on my ability to represent the people of Rhode Island 
cannot be overstated. Her impact was felt by every anxious senior 
citizen who experienced a problem with Social Security, by every parent 
calling to plan a family trip to Washington, every young idealist 
determined to save the world,

[[Page 9581]]

and every beleaguered citizen convinced that the government is after 
them. When they called or visited my office seeking help--an answer or 
action or reassurance--Hope was the first person they encountered in 
their quest. In the space between saying, ``Good morning, Senator 
Chafee's office,'' and hitting the ``transfer'' button, Hope put people 
at ease, instilled calm, became a friend.
  People were not numbers to Hope; they were souls in search of a 
connection, one that maybe Hope could help them find. One of her 
greatest gifts was her ability to see the humanity of all people, 
regardless of social station, political power, religion, or race. In 
that, she remains an example for us all. Thanks to Hope's extraordinary 
ability to convey that human connection, Rhode Islanders knew that our 
office was a welcoming and responsive place.
  Hope remained optimistic and of good cheer regardless of what was 
going on in her personal life. In 2001, she lost her husband. And she 
has faced, and lost, a daunting battle with cancer. Through it all, 
Hope demonstrated the highest level of dedication to her job, never 
betraying to any individual constituent that they were anything but the 
center of her universe.
  Hope was involved in many volunteer organizations throughout the 
course of her career. She was most recently active with the AIDS 
Project of Rhode Island and she cherished her involvement with the 
First Pentecostal Church and the Congdon Street Baptist Church.
  In 2003, Hope celebrated her 25th year as a Senate employee. And just 
recently, on May 3, 2004, Hope was the proud recipient of the Federal 
Employee of the Year Award by the Rhode Island Association of Federal 
Employees. This honor was richly deserved. All of the Chafee family and 
the myriad of people who have been touched by the life of Hope Harris 
will miss her joy for living. She was the heart and soul of our 
Providence office.
  I ask unanimous consent to have printed in the Record a copy of an 
article that appeared in the Providence Journal on March 11, 2004, that 
speaks to the true essence of Hope Harris.
  There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in 
the Record, as follows:

              [From the Providence Journal, Mar. 11, 2004]

                  On the Job: Hope Harris, Chafee Aide

                         (By M. Charles Bakst)

       Hope Harris, 72, the receptionist in Sen. Lincoln Chafee's 
     Providence office, likes looking out from her desk at 170 
     Westminster St. The view from this 11th floor aerie is 
     striking and she says, ``It gives you a sense of being close 
     to the Lord.''
       Harris's is the voice you are likeliest to have heard if 
     you've phoned the Chafee shop during the last quarter 
     century. For most of that span, of course, the senator was 
     John Chafee, Lincoln's late father.
       Harris is enthusiastic, pleasant, and at peace. She has an 
     advanced case of cancer that has spread from her liver to her 
     breast area. She comes in now only four days a week; if she 
     tires, she goes home. I find it remarkable that she works at 
     all, but Harris says, ``I love what I'm doing.''
       Barbara Berke, a Harris pal and former colleague says, 
     ``She's happy and she wants to make the world happy.''
       Chafee marvels at Harris's patience in fielding constituent 
     calls. ``People like to tee off, they like to vent, and 
     sometimes they go over the top,'' he says.
       How ironic that some people don't realize Harris is black.
       A man phoned to grouse about Jesse Jackson. Harris, no 
     Jackson fan, said she wouldn't argue. But the man said, ``I 
     wish they's put him on a boat and send him back to Africa--
     and all the rest of them, too.'' Harris said, ``Well, I 
     didn't do anything. I don't want to go to Africa. I don't 
     know anybody there.'' The man laughed and said he didn't mean 
     her. By the end of the conversation, Harris says, they were 
     friends.
       Once a man who'd called for years came in to meet her. ``He 
     looked at me. He said, `Are you Hope?' I said, `Yeah.' He 
     said, `You're black!' I said, `I know. What should I do?' He 
     said, `Oh, nothing, it's all right.'''
       Harris hears from people with immigration problems, or 
     folks looking for a job reference, or who think Republican 
     Chafee should bolt parties, or who are lonely, or who have 
     strong views on abortion--including backers of legislation 
     outlawing a form of late-term abortion and who talk about 
     fetuses having their brains sucked out. ``They want me to get 
     the willies,'' she says. (Like Chafee, she opposes such 
     bans.)
       Harris adds, ``Everybody that calls here is somebody 
     important to me because they're a voter. . . . When they are 
     abusive, when I'm through with them, they're nice. They calm 
     down. John Chafee said, `Hope can tame the wildest beast.'''
       State Rep. Maxine Bradford Shavers, D-Newport, Harris's 
     sister-in-law says the key to understanding her is that 
     ``she's a Christian.''
       While Chafee press aide Debbie Rich, who is Jewish, sits by 
     and listens, Harris defines ``Christian'' this way: ``It 
     means that Debbie and I have the same blood running through 
     our veins. If Debbie bleeds, I get the Band-Aid. If I bleed, 
     Debbie gets the Band-Aid. If I know you're hurting, I will 
     get you water. I love you with all of my heart and I love 
     everybody.''
       As Harris, who was raised a Baptist, mulls her cancer, she 
     says her life is in God's hands and she has no fear. She 
     knows who she wants to speak at her funeral, which will be at 
     Beneficent Congregational Church, more spacious than the 
     Providence Church of God where she currently worships. She 
     has picked out some hymns, including ``How Great Thou Art.''
       When I talk of death, I say someone has died. But you might 
     hear Harris say ``passed.'' She explains, ``It means they go 
     from one degree of grace to another. They pass over.'' Though 
     her body will return to dust, ``My spirit will soar.''
       She declares, ``In my heart, I just look to the heavens and 
     I think, `My God! Some day I'll see Him face to face.'''

  Mr. CHAFEE. Mr. President, I yield the floor.

                          ____________________