[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 161 (2015), Part 10]
[Senate]
[Pages 14535-14537]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                    REMEMBERING EDWARD W. BROOKE III

  Mr. MARKEY. Mr. President, on March 11, 2015, at Washington National 
Cathedral, a memorial service was held for former Massachusetts Senator 
Edward W. Brooke III. Ed was one of the first African Americans to 
serve in combat during World War II. He was the first African American 
to be elected a State attorney general, and the first elected to the 
U.S. Senate by popular vote. In 2004, he was awarded the Presidential 
Medal of Freedom by President George W. Bush. In honor of his 
extraordinary life and service to our Nation, I ask unanimous consent 
to have printed in the Record the remarks made at Senator Edward W. 
Brooke III's memorial service by Secretary of State John F. Kerry; 
Congresswoman Eleanor Holmes Norton; Milton C. Davis and Edward W. 
Brooke IV.
  There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in 
the Record, as follows:

                     Remarks of Secretary of State

                             John F. Kerry

       Good morning. It's a privilege to share some thoughts about 
     Ed Brooke.
       I want you to think back half a century. Imagine a room in 
     the 1960s where all the leading Massachusetts politicians are 
     gathered--Kennedy, McCormack, O'Neill, Volpe, Brooke. Among 
     them, one figure stands out as the courageous representative 
     of an embattled minority; Ed Brooke; alone; undaunted; the 
     only Episcopalian.
       Imagine another room, the chamber of the U.S. Senate. 
     Shortly after noon on January 10, 1967, a man of consummate 
     dignity strides down the center aisle; Legislators rise and 
     applaud; the gallery cheers. The first African-American 
     popularly-elected to the Senate takes his seat. In that 
     moment, Ed Brooke was not just a pioneer; he was an advance 
     scout probing the soul of our country. Twenty-six years would 
     pass before a second African-American would be elected.
       Imagine a young man raised in Washington, joining the army 
     immediately after Pearl Harbor, later deploying to Italy as 
     part of a segregated infantry battalion. There, Lieutenant 
     Brooke watched in anguish as his buddies were sent each 
     morning to attack a heavily-fortified German position in the 
     Apennines.
       The young soldier soon became convinced that his men were 
     being used as cannon fodder by racist commanders. He proposed 
     a shift in tactics, an operation staged later in the day, 
     when the enemy would be sleeping. The answer came back: ``The 
     colonel would never send a boy to do a man's job.'' Brooke 
     persisted and the operation he organized went ahead, catching 
     the enemy by surprise and driving them from the mountain. His

[[Page 14536]]

     battalion suffered 1300 casualties and won 27 medals; its 
     reward was to be dismantled and its personnel scattered to 
     places where many could neither sit at a lunch counter nor 
     vote. We must never forget that--as much as Ike, Patton and 
     Marshall--Ed Brooke and the African-Americans who joined him 
     in fighting Fascism were part of the greatest generation and 
     we owe them an incalculable debt.
       But this was just the beginning of Ed Brooke's journey.
       As a legislator, Senator Brooke was always on the cutting 
     edge--championing a woman's right to choose; taking on the 
     tobacco industry when smoking was still considered cool; 
     initiating a program to help minority businesspeople create 
     jobs; guaranteeing women equal access to credit; and 
     authoring an amendment that, to this day, enables tens of 
     thousands of people each year to qualify for public housing 
     and thereby escape shelters or the streets.
       When President Nixon asked the Senate to confirm a Supreme 
     Court nominee whose supporters argued--and I'm not making 
     this up--that mediocrity deserved representation--Ed Brooke 
     looked his party's leadership in the eye and said no--and did 
     the same on two other Nixon nominees.
       He also differed from the President by being right about 
     the Vietnam War and voting to end it--a position that 
     mattered a lot to many of his constituents, including me.
       And when ideologues tried to gut the Civil Rights and 
     Voting Rights laws: Ed Brooke used every instrument in the 
     legislative tool box to stop them--declaring that liberties 
     that took a century or more to secure must never again be 
     denied. A vow that, as President Obama reminded us in Selma 
     on Saturday, remains as timely now as ever.
       For all of his career, Ed Brooke was his own man. As 
     Attorney General, he was relentless in cracking down on 
     corruption--which in Massachusetts in the early 1960s 
     provided what we might call ``a target-rich environment.'' 
     His electoral triumphs were astonishing in a state that was 
     only 2 percent black, where school desegregation was an 
     explosive issue, and where the face of prejudice might appear 
     either ugly with anger or thinly masked by code words. In one 
     early race he narrowly lost, his opponent, Kevin White, 
     claimed to see no hidden message in campaign bumper stickers 
     that read simply: ``Vote White.''
       Repeatedly, Brooke was urged by the political establishment 
     not to run for higher office--to instead bide his time until 
     Massachusetts was [quote-unquote] ``ready.'' Indeed, in 1962, 
     when he ran for Attorney General, his opponent was the 
     formidable Elliott Richardson, a man with deep connections to 
     what were--socially and financially--the upper echelons of 
     the Commonwealth. But Ed Brooke didn't back down, and because 
     he didn't, a straight line can be drawn between his electoral 
     victories and that of another African-American--this time in 
     the national arena--some four decades later.
       I was in high school when Ed Brooke first ran for statewide 
     office, attracting so many Democratic voters to the 
     Republican primary that our party had to work for months 
     afterward reregistering them.
       I had met Ed but didn't really know him until after I 
     arrived in Washington. In my early years in the Senate, he 
     would come by occasionally and talk about the job or the 
     events of the day. Whenever I saw him, I was struck by his 
     warmth and kindness and his interest in what I was doing. He 
     was a charismatic man with a genuine laugh and a resonant 
     voice and a ready willingness to answer my questions. One 
     topic we discussed was the parallels. After all, we had both 
     gone from college to war to law school to a prosecutor's 
     office to spend many years as the ``junior'' Senator from 
     Massachusetts. We had each won and lost elections and guess 
     what--we both agreed that winning was better.
       Believe me, few public statements are harder to deliver 
     than a concession speech after a closely-contested--even 
     bitter--race. In 1978, I was indelibly struck by how Ed's 
     remarks set a new standard for grace amid pain. He 
     congratulated his opponent and paid tribute to allies who 
     would, he said, carry on his work. He was flanked by one 
     source of strength, his mother--and alluded to a second in 
     saying: ``When I was down in the valley, I didn't cry--I 
     cried out--and you gave me the strength to move on.''
       Early on, this proud son introduced me to Helen Brooke who, 
     during my years in the Senate, embraced me as much as anyone 
     in the city. Mother Brooke loved her family and her church; 
     she loved to have a good time and she taught her son how to 
     be a successful politician. ``Always thank people,'' she 
     said, ``and make them feel special.'' That advice stuck. As 
     one colleague observed, ``When Ed Brooke looked at you, you 
     felt he was not only thinking about you and only you, but 
     that he probably hadn't thought about anyone else in weeks.''
       Fifteen years ago, the state courthouse--just across from 
     my own district office in Boston--was named after Ed Brooke--
     a tribute to the man and a regular reminder to all of his 
     love for the practice of law. In Massachusetts, three charter 
     schools are dedicated to his memory; and many of their 
     students made the journey from the land of the seven-foot 
     snowdrifts to be here with us today; there are also many 
     students from Dunbar--his high school alma mater.
       Senator Brooke shunned the title of trailblazer, but that's 
     exactly what he was. He inspired thousands of young people--
     of every race--to enter public service. Some criticized him 
     for not being more outspoken or for not being enough this or 
     enough that--trying to mold him to their expectations--but he 
     was always true to himself. He fought ceaselessly and with 
     determination for the poor, for minorities, for women, and 
     for what he felt was right. He was the embodiment of a style 
     of legislating that valued substance over rhetoric and public 
     needs over political agendas. Bipartisanship, to him, was 
     never a four letter word.
       So we are privileged to be here--family, friends, 
     admirers--in celebration and thanksgiving, for this 
     remarkable man. In recent years, as Ed Brooke received the 
     highest civilian honors our nation can bestow--the 
     Congressional Gold Medal and the Presidential Medal of 
     Freedom--he reminded us that the work to which he had 
     dedicated his own best efforts--remains unfinished.
       Ed Brooke understood the ebb and flow of life. He endured 
     great loss and enjoyed exuberant triumphs, saw the valleys 
     and the mountain tops, and would be the first to tell us that 
     he lived a full and blessed life. For him and for that--we 
     will always be grateful.

             Remarks of Congresswoman Eleanor Holmes Norton

       Anne, family, colleagues, public officials, friends all of 
     Senator Edward William Brooke. You do not grow up desiring to 
     be a United States Senator if you were born in the District 
     of Columbia in 1919; not if you lived in one of the 
     District's African American communities, LeDroit Park; not if 
     you went to our segregated public schools and graduated from 
     Dunbar High School, and the Senator's class of 1936 is in the 
     church today, and from Howard University; not even if you 
     became a World War II hero and won the Bronze Star, leading 
     your segregated unit in a broad daylight attack on an enemy 
     bunker; and certainly not if your hometown had no elected 
     self-government, much less senators.
       Edward William Brooke was nurtured in a loving, closely 
     knit, aspiring African American community in the District of 
     Columbia. But it did not groom him to think of himself as a 
     public official.
       Senator Brooke owed much to a childhood spent in our city 
     where children were raised to believe segregation did not for 
     a moment mean you were inferior. But the man that became a 
     natural politician, charismatic, charming, brilliant, and 
     utterly approachable, invented himself and went on to become 
     not only a public official, but a historic figure.
       The Senate has always had its share of self-made men and 
     women. Edward Brooke was a self-made senator. Many had 
     thought of Barack Obama as a man ahead of his time, until the 
     President came to the Capitol in 2009 to present the 
     Congressional Gold Medal to Senator Brooke. After receiving 
     the medal, Senator Brooke regaled us with remarks that must 
     have been written in his head and his heart, because without 
     so much as a note, he accepted the medal in a voice that 
     resonated as it must have when he spoke in the Senate about 
     the Brooke Amendment to the Fair Housing Act, which limited 
     to 25% the portion of income a family must pay in rent for 
     public housing.
       Don't ask me how a black man without guide posts became one 
     of the most popular politicians ever in Massachusetts, a 
     state where only 2% of the population was black. I cannot 
     explain the conundrum that was Edward Brooke. But I 
     experienced the warmth and the talent that made him 
     successful as a public man and dear as a friend. And I can 
     tell you this: Edward Brooke never forgot where he came from, 
     the city that nurtured his uniqueness. Without hesitation, he 
     volunteered to talk with senators in his Republican Party 
     when the Senate and the House both passed the D.C. House 
     Voting Rights Act. He succeeded. The vote for the District 
     was lost to an amendment that would have wiped out all of the 
     District's gun laws in return for a vote in the People's 
     House.
       Senator Brooke's place in American history was sealed and 
     delivered long before he died in January. His place as the 
     first African American elected to the Senate with the popular 
     vote and his extraordinary record as a senator are even more 
     remarkable when you consider his origins here in the District 
     of Columbia, which had no local government at all. The 
     residents of his hometown continue to struggle for equal 
     rights as American citizens and for statehood. But nothing 
     could inspire our citizens more than a native son, born in a 
     city without a vote or a local public official, who rose to 
     cast votes in the Senate of the United States.
       Thank you.

Remarks of Milton C. Davis, the 29th General President of the Alpha Phi 
                            Alpha Fraternity

       ``God of justice, save the people from the clash of race 
     and creed, From the strife of class and faction, make our 
     nation free indeed; Keep her faith in simple manhood strong 
     as when her life began, Till it find its full fruition in the 
     brotherhood of man!''
       This is a stanza from a favorite hymn of Edward Brooke 
     which he often quoted in the speeches he delivered across the 
     country and

[[Page 14537]]

     the world. This stanza summarized his theme of life; his 
     mission in life. Long before I ever met him in person, I came 
     to know him through the pages of the history of Alpha Phi 
     Alpha Fraternity, the world's first African American 
     collegiate fraternity founded in 1906. This Alpha history 
     book depicted a plethora of role models and heroes, the likes 
     of W. E. B. Dubois, Thurgood Marshall, Martin Luther King, 
     Jr., Jesse Owens and scores more, whose life and work 
     inspires and advances a race of people and a nation. None 
     stood out more dramatically than the life and achievements of 
     Edward William Brooke. He was my hero; dignified, a scholar, 
     charismatic, accomplished and fearless. Regular history books 
     have yet to give him the credit he has earned.
       Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity is in its 109th year of 
     existence and for 77 of those 109 years, Edward William 
     Brooke stood in the circle of our brotherhood. When Alpha Phi 
     Alpha Fraternity undertook the awesome twenty-seven year task 
     of building the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial on the 
     National Mall here in Washington DC., Edward William Brooke 
     was first to come forward with significant resources and the 
     use of his influence to help guide that process.
       He was an active, contributing and esteemed member until 
     his death.
       The law served as his instrument, tool and weapon with 
     which he sought to advance the cause of justice in the face 
     of prejudice, discrimination and segregation which surrounded 
     him as he grew up in the nation's capital not far from this 
     place.
       He fought against the tyranny of the Axis powers as a 
     commissioned officer in the U.S. Army during World War II 
     assigned to the segregated 366th all black infantry regiment 
     where he earned a Bronze Star for valor on the battlefield.
       Edward Brooke also served as an advocate for black soldiers 
     who were charged with offenses in his regiment even though he 
     was not then a trained, licensed attorney.
       Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, using its members who were 
     lawyers in the 1940s and 1950s filed several major lawsuits 
     seeking to dismantle segregation and battle racism in 
     America. Among those cases filed and financed by the national 
     fraternity was the case of Elmer Henderson vs. The United 
     States; the Interstate Commerce Commission and the Southern 
     Railway. The case challenged the Commerce Commission 
     regulation which allowed segregation and discrimination in 
     railroad dining cars in interstate commerce. In the dining 
     car, black passengers were only allowed to occupy two tables 
     nearest the kitchen and when occupied by black travelers a 
     curtain had to be drawn to hide their presence from white 
     passengers. If white passengers needed the two tables 
     assigned to black passengers, the black passengers had to 
     wait until the white passengers vacated the tables assigned 
     to blacks.
       Edward Brooke was recruited to join the Alpha legal team 
     headed by then General President of Alpha Belford Lawson in 
     filing briefs before the U.S. Supreme Court attacking these 
     racial barriers and on June 5, 1950, four years before Brown 
     v. the Board of Education major decision, after an eight year 
     battle through the lower courts, the 
     U.S. Supreme Court struck down the regulation which allowed 
     segregation and discrimination in railroad dining cars due in 
     part to the heroic efforts of Edward Brooke. Edward Brooke 
     was a champion for equality and fairness, his standard and 
     measure of a person was the world's standard of excellence. 
     He wanted only to be judged by the content of his character 
     and his abilities rather than his racial background.
       Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., who was initiated into Alpha 
     Phi Alpha Fraternity by Edward Brooke while King was a 
     graduate student at Boston University stated the proposition 
     that--Life's most persistent and urgent question is ``What 
     are you doing for others?''
       Edward W. Brooke became an acknowledged national treasure 
     by using his time, talent, influence, power and intellect 
     demonstrating his commitment to uplifting others and assuring 
     that in matters of fair housing, voting rights, education and 
     justice that the promise of America to equality under law 
     became more of a practical reality rather than just a lofty 
     ideal.
       In one of his campaigns, a Boston political writer wrote 
     ``Brooke was a carpetbagger from the South, a Republican in a 
     Democratic State, a black in a white state, a Protestant in a 
     Catholic state and he is poor. Edward Brooke replied: I 
     pleaded guilty to all indictments and I continued to 
     persevere in my campaign. Brooke won; America won.
       That's what heroes do: They look reality in the face and 
     persevere!
       The Poet Robert Louis Stevenson aptly sums up my journey of 
     friendship and brotherhood with Senator Edward W. Brooke with 
     these words:

     He has achieved success;
     Who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much;
     Who has enjoyed the trust and respect of intelligent men and 
           women and the love of little children;
     Who has filled his niche and accomplished his task;
     Who has left the world better than he found it;
     Who has always looked for the best in others;
     And given them the best he had;
     Whose life was an inspiration;
     Whose memory a benediction.

                     Remarks by Edward W. Brooke IV

       On behalf of my family I would like to thank the 
     distinguished speakers who preceded me for their thoughtful 
     and deeply moving tributes. As they have so eloquently 
     stated, and as most of you well know: my father lived one of 
     The Great American Lives. It was my privilege to know him and 
     to be a part of his life. It is my honor to be his son, and 
     to be here with all of you today, in appreciation of a man 
     whom I love so dearly.
       The moments of the past are not gone from us, nor we from 
     them. The light of each moment shines on through eternity as 
     the light of distant stars travels through space and time to 
     reach our eyes and touch our minds. And so the brilliant 
     light of his great life shines on for us, that we may better 
     find our way in the dark unknown.
       When I was but a child, not so long ago, my father would 
     always say, ``Waste not; want not.'' Usually he would do this 
     as he walked around turning off the lights in vacant rooms or 
     pointing out the unused excess ketchup on my dinner-plate. I 
     thought I understood what he meant. Though when I now 
     consider the familiar saying in the full context of his life, 
     it reveals a far more powerful truth: That if we never waste 
     the opportunity to help each other live better lives, none 
     among us would ever have to want for a life that could not be 
     attained.
       In this generous spirit, and leading by example, my father 
     constantly strived toward the realization of a better world--
     a world in which the apparent differences between individuals 
     would never again be mistaken as cause to deny justice, 
     humanity, or dignity, nor to justify violence, exploitation, 
     or disrespect. We must continue to work as he did, with faith 
     in the possibility of the best imaginable outcome, and the 
     assurance that fearfulness and cynicism cannot withstand the 
     immeasurable kindness of which we are capable.
       My father was a truly tender, sweet, and lovely man. He 
     forgave my many errors and patiently helped me to learn from 
     them. He taught me to read, to speak, and to think, to love 
     and be loved. For all of this and so much more, I am forever 
     grateful--grateful to him, and to his mother Helen and father 
     Edward for raising up a man so entirely and strikingly 
     unafraid to be the best possible version of himself; grateful 
     to the ancestors who, surviving hardship and desolation, held 
     intact the sacred vitality of which my father's life is a 
     profound expression; and grateful to my mother, whose 
     inspiring and unconditional love made our lives together so 
     beautiful.
       We know that he will always be with us, and pray for him 
     eternal peace.

                          ____________________