[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 161 (2015), Part 6]
[Senate]
[Pages 8439-8440]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                      REMEMBERING MARSELIS PARSONS

  Mr. LEAHY. Mr. President, I would like to pay honor to a Vermont 
legend who passed away last month. Marselis Parsons, known to friends 
as ``Div,'' was a deeply respected newsman in my home State. His low, 
steady voice in anchoring the evening news became a mainstay in living 
rooms for decades. Div Parsons knew news. He knew the importance of 
having personal connections, and he built trust based on his integrity 
and fairness.
  Div Parsons rose through the ranks at Vermont's CBS affiliate, WCAX 
Channel 3, and he never became too important in his own mind that he 
wouldn't report on a fire or track down a lead. In short, he knew the 
pulse of the State, and he reported on what he knew. He also shared his 
years of experience with young reporters, many of whom he hired 
straight out of college and gave them the break they needed.

[[Page 8440]]

  When he wasn't working long hours at the station, he was known to 
take to the waters of the great Lake Champlain, either on his antique 
power boat or, if the winds held up, under full sail. In retirement, he 
still relished tracking the latest political news.
  I am grateful for our friendship and our many conversations over 
time, and I am grateful that he was able to cherish the recent birth of 
his granddaughter, Pippa. Div Parsons' death will leave a void, no 
doubt, but we'll have many memories to share.
  I ask unanimous consent to have printed in the Record a fitting 
tribute to Div Parsons that ran in the Times Argus newspaper.
  There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in 
the Record, as follows:

                  [From Barre Montpelier Times Argus,
                             June 1, 2015]

                             `Div' Departs

       This last week saw the departure of Bob Schieffer from the 
     anchor desk of the CBS show ``Face The Nation,'' and closer 
     to home, the passing of a Vermont television icon, Marselis 
     Parsons. While Schieffer occupied a place in the national 
     consciousness, it is not a mistake to place the two men in 
     company. They represent the best of an era in television that 
     is rapidly receding into history.
       For Vermont, Parsons was the face that a generation of 
     Vermonters grew up with, in an era when the habits of the 
     populace were still to turn on the local news at 6 p.m., 
     followed by the national report at 7 p.m. He was both larger 
     than life, and unassuming in a way that led us to welcome him 
     into our homes. ``Div,'' as he was nicknamed through obscure 
     origins, was for many the one and only local news anchor they 
     knew.
       Because of the vagaries of television transmission over the 
     hills of Vermont, many children in rural homes--and their 
     parents--had just one or two options on the dial beyond the 
     local PBS station. Even then, the reception was sometimes 
     tricky leading to elaborate coat hanger antennas on the TV 
     and ``snow'' making the picture a bit fuzzy. But the 
     television was often the window to the wider world--both the 
     world at large, and because of Parsons and family-owned WCAX, 
     the world in the next town over, or in the state of Vermont 
     at large.
       He was the guide to the stories that connected Vermont and 
     gave us a sense of shared identity, whether we turned on the 
     evening news in Derby Line or in Tinmouth. He reported on the 
     first Green Up Day, in 1970, on the return of hostages from 
     Iran in 1980, and was the anchor the day that Dick Snelling 
     died and Howard Dean was sworn in as governor. Parsons became 
     synonymous with Channel 3, and both remain Vermont 
     institutions.
       He looked us in the eye and told us the bad news when 
     tragedy had struck; he also shared the triumphs of the day, 
     or narrated some kind of community gathering in one of the 
     tiny towns that Vermont is known for. He often shared a 
     chuckle with his co-anchors, but never allowed his 
     personality--of which there was plenty--or his demeanor to 
     outshine the efforts of the team as a whole.
       He could be, as his former colleague Kristin Carlson 
     recalled, unscripted and direct on live television, meaning 
     the reporters in the field had better know their story and be 
     able to go off the script. Carlson grew up watching Parsons, 
     and like dozens of television reporters, was mentored by him 
     and grew to serve the state of Vermont better because of it.
       After his start in television in 1967, Parsons worked as a 
     reporter for years, and only took over the anchor desk in 
     1984, on the death of his predecessor, Richard Gallagher. By 
     then much of the most tumultuous period in Vermont's modern 
     history was over: Act 250 was in place, Vermont had rapidly 
     transitioned from a conservative, rural state to a 
     politically diverse, rural state, and the social and 
     governmental change ushered in by the '60s and '70s was in 
     full swing. There was much to come, however, and Parsons was 
     a constant throughout--the rest of the Kunin years, the rise 
     of Howard Dean, civil unions and the Jim Douglas era.
       The days of the network evening news are rapidly passing 
     on. The news world has further fragmented with the rise of 
     the Internet. In some ways, the new world is better. We have 
     many choices now, and our ability to connect to others around 
     the state and the world has never been greater. Our choices 
     for information are more diverse.
       In other ways we feel the pangs of nostalgia for times gone 
     by, when there was a constant presence who would share the 
     news of the day before saying ``Good Night''. The sense of 
     loss is for one of our familiar community, and of a person 
     who did not put himself before the news.
       There are many examples of the anchor desk lending too much 
     ego to the occupant. Often today an anchor desk is almost 
     like a podium or a stage. But Parsons had no need to 
     exaggerate or embellish who he was. He was a different kind 
     of anchor. In the current era of flamboyance and 
     exaggeration, his humility, compassion and honesty stand out. 
     Parsons was not a ``personality.'' He was not acting or 
     putting on a show while on air--the man he was was what you 
     saw. He was steady and sometimes deadpan, and committed 
     entirely to the Green Mountain State.
       While we are grateful to have had him, it is our great loss 
     that he is gone.

                          ____________________