[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 163 (2017), Part 14]
[Senate]
[Pages 19491-19494]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                         FAREWELL TO THE SENATE

  Mr. STRANGE. Mr. President, I rise today to address my colleagues for 
the last time. After nearly a year in this Chamber, I am both its 
newest Member and the next to depart. As such, I have both the optimism 
of a young student and the battle scars of a man in the arena. Today I 
would like to offer my colleagues some observations from the 
perspective of my unique circumstances.
  My fellow Senators and I come from different places. We were raised 
differently, and we have lived differently. In coming to serve in the 
world's greatest deliberative body, we have carried and tested 
different notions of America.
  There is, however, one reality that transcends our individual 
experiences. In this Chamber, we are each humbled by history. The 
Senate has been a forum for some of the great debates of our Republic. 
It has shaped--and has been shaped by--citizen legislators from every 
State in the Union. We are awed by the strength of an institution that 
has weathered great challenges and the wisdom of those who first 
envisioned it.
  As I rise today in that spirit, I would like to shed some light on a 
page of Senate history that bears great significance in our current 
political climate. As we know, across the aisle behind us is a space 
known as the Marble Room. In a building that is home to so many 
breathtaking historic sites, this alcove has a singular beauty and a 
story worth telling.
  As part of the 1850s expansion of the Senate's Chambers, the Marble 
Room began as a public gathering place and has been frequented over the 
decades by politicians and protesters alike. When the Union Army camped 
on the grounds of the Capitol, soldiers even used its fireplaces for 
cooking.
  For over 60 years, the Marble Room was steeped in the life of the 
American citizen. It hosted meetings with advocates, constituents, and 
the free press. It became a very tangible example of our Nation's 
experiment in representative government. In March of 1921, it took on a 
new, equally important purpose. The space was reserved by the Rules 
Committee as an escape for Senators from the crowded halls of the 
Capitol and the windowless, smoke-filled rooms where they often had to 
gather off the floor. It became the place where Senators of all stripes 
would come to catch their breath and take their armor off. Some would 
nap, some would eat lunch, some would read the newspapers, and all 
would end up forming bonds that rose above politics.
  Today the Marble Room is almost always empty. This emptiness 
symbolizes something that worries me about today's politics. It is 
likely both a symptom and a cause of the partisan gridlock that often 
dominates this Chamber.
  But the story of that room--the interplay between citizens and 
institution, between pragmatism and principle--is the story of the 
Senate and in some ways the story of republican government in America.
  What was once an incubator for collegiality and bipartisanship has 
become a glaring reminder of the divisions that we have allowed to 
distract us from the business of the American people. We each remain 
humbled by the history of the Marble Room. We stand in awe of the 
traditions of this hallowed body, but too often we fail to let this 
history be our guide through today's political challenges.
  My time in the Senate has reinforced for me what it means to balance 
principle and pragmatism and to serve the people of my State honorably, 
and it has taught me how to navigate the turbulent waters of 
Washington. I imagine that our predecessors who spent time together in 
the Marble Room wrestled with similar questions.
  After all, the issues we face today are not all that different. This 
body has been strained before--it has bent but has not broken. Finding 
lasting solutions to our Nation's problems does not require reinventing 
the wheel. Our forefathers have done it before, and they have done it 
right across the hall.
  I spent my early years growing up in Sylacauga, AL--familiar to my 
friend the senior Senator--about 40 miles outside of Birmingham. My 
first hometown is known as the Marble City for the swath of high-
quality stone it sits upon, 32 miles long and as much as 600 feet deep.
  Sylacauga marble is recognized for its pure white color and its fine 
texture. Here in the Nation's Capital, we are surrounded by it. It is 
set into the ceiling of the Lincoln Memorial and the halls of the 
Supreme Court, and it was used by renowned sculptor Gutzon Borglum to 
create the bust of Abraham Lincoln that is on display in the crypt 
downstairs.
  Sylacauga marble is used in places infused with tradition and deep 
history. It is used to enshrine important landmarks. It ensures that 
memories of the past will stand the test of time to inform the 
decisions of the future.
  In a small house in the Marble City, I was raised by a family that 
instilled in me a deep and abiding reverence for history and tradition. 
My father was a Navy veteran and my only uncle, a West Point graduate 
killed in service to our country in World War II, was, ironically, born 
on the Fourth of July.
  As you can imagine, I didn't need to observe parades, flags, and 
fireworks to understand the sacrifice people have made to preserve our 
freedom. I just had to look in my mother's eyes on her only brother's 
birthday to remember that sacrifice. Forged in service and sacrifice, 
my family understood the blessing of living in America and the

[[Page 19492]]

price of passing its freedoms on to the next generation.
  Thanks to this generation before me, the ``greatest generation,'' I 
grew up strong in Alabama. At a young age, I was introduced to the Boy 
Scouts of America, as many of my colleagues were. From volunteer troop 
leaders to the older scouts I looked up to, the Boy Scouts created an 
environment of selfless service. As a scout, I learned to appreciate 
the institutions of American society and my role as a citizen. By the 
age of 13, I was an Eagle Scout traveling to Washington, DC, on a 
school trip to see this great experiment in representative government 
up close. As I tell every young person who comes to see me, that made 
an enduring difference in my life.
  I often wonder, if we all approached our duties here with the wide-
eyed wonder of a young student on a field trip, whether we couldn't 
accomplish a little more in Congress.
  Of course, the strength of this body and the remarkable foresight of 
our Founding Fathers run deeper than an elementary school civics class 
or a trip to Washington. For me, the next pivotal moment came as an 
undergraduate student at Tulane University in the spring and summer of 
1973.
  I know many of my colleagues will not be surprised to know that I 
played basketball in college, and there is a reason why. I am the 
tallest Senator in history, as I have come to understand it. In between 
practice and part-time jobs, I did find time to watch the newly formed 
Senate Select Committee on Presidential Campaign Activities begin its 
investigation of the Watergate scandal.
  In that moment, our Nation stepped into uncharted territory. The 
strength of our Constitution was tested like never before. Would the 
pursuit of justice overcome politics? Would the institution of the 
Presidency be forever changed? What are the responsibilities of 
citizens in the Republic when the Republic's institutions are tested?
  It was during that spring semester of 1973 that I began to understand 
the tremendous power of the rule of law. It is guarded by 
representatives who swear to protect, preserve, and defend the 
Constitution of the United States.
  When my basketball playing years ran out, it was this realization 
that led me to go to law school. My new game would be learning the ins 
and outs of this system that ensured the rights our Founders 
envisioned. My new team would be my fellow classmates and students who 
would go on to practice law and serve our Nation at all levels of 
government.
  As so many of our colleagues know, the path from practicing law to 
writing it is well traveled. I was fortunate to travel it with the help 
of some of Alabama's finest public servants. As a young attorney, I 
first met one of them for breakfast in the cafeteria at the Department 
of Justice. In those days, you could go to the Department of Justice 
without having to show an ID, and I quickly discovered, after I had 
gotten my breakfast, that I had forgotten my wallet. So Jeff Sessions 
had to pay for my meal. He has continued to pay it forward to this day, 
as a dear friend and mentor, and, of course, he is now the Attorney 
General of the United States of America.
  Jeff Sessions is a gracious statesman and a man of principle, and it 
is not farfetched, in my opinion, to say that some of his temperament 
rubbed off on him from our State's senior Senator and my dear friend, 
Senator Richard Shelby. I so appreciate his presence here in the 
Chamber today.
  Over 30 years ago, I was introduced to then-Congressman Shelby by my 
friend, former Secretary of the Senate Joe Stewart, a person who 
revered this institution. As a young lawyer, I learned from a man fast 
becoming a legendary legislator. He would become one of my most 
treasured friends, sharing many days hunting together in the fields of 
Alabama and elsewhere and many more stories shared here in the halls of 
the Capitol.
  Together, Jeff Sessions and Richard Shelby represent the finest 
Alabama has to offer to our Nation. Following in their footsteps here 
in the Senate is an honor I will forever treasure.
  The example of these men inspired me to get involved in public 
service. As the attorney general of Alabama, Jeff Sessions set an 
example. As the most influential, revered Senator in our State's 
history, Richard Shelby has guided the way, each with an unparalleled 
reverence for the rule of law.
  I spoke earlier about the balance of pragmatism and principle. In 
doing so, I had my friends in mind. When I was elected attorney general 
for the State of Alabama in 2010, I drew heavily on their examples of 
principled conservative leadership.
  In this body we are too often convinced that standing for deeply held 
principles is incompatible with pragmatism. In the 6 years I have 
served as attorney general, I learned that this could not be further 
from the truth.
  Serving my State in that capacity required balance above all else, as 
the Presiding Officer, having been an attorney general himself, would 
understand. I had an obligation to the people of Alabama who elected me 
to fight for the conservative victories they were counting on, but I 
also had a solemn duty to rise above politics and follow the law and 
truth wherever it led.
  Make no mistake, during my two terms as attorney general, I took 
every opportunity to defend the Constitution and the people of Alabama 
against Federal Government overreach--in other words, defending the 
rule of law, the oath that we take.
  Together with other State attorneys general, I worked to protect 
farmers and ranchers from an EPA rule that would turn puddles in their 
fields into federally regulated ecosystems. We stood up against threats 
to religious liberty and the Second Amendment, and we took the fight 
over illegal executive amnesty all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court. 
On these and many other issues, we stood for the rule of law, and we 
won.
  I don't have to prove my commitment to conservative principles. At 
the same time, I have a record of upholding the rule of law even when 
my own party goes astray. I have the scars to show for it, believe me. 
Over my 6 years in the State capitol of Montgomery, I assembled a 
nationally renowned team of prosecutors behind a common goal: to root 
out public corruption.
  This pursuit led to the convictions of several corrupt public 
officials in the State of Alabama, including a county sheriff complicit 
in human trafficking--the first successful prosecution of its kind in 
decades.
  My team took on Alabama's Republican speaker of the house for ethics 
violations, leading to his removal from office and a prison sentence. 
As you might imagine, we didn't make any friends in the political 
establishment by doing so, but we shored up public trust in our 
representative government.
  For their commitment to fighting public corruption, my team has been 
recognized by the National Association of Attorneys General as a gold 
standard. I personally had the opportunity to address my former 
colleagues from both sides of the aisle who are focusing on the same 
goal in their States. More than any fleeting partisan achievement, it 
is work like this of which I am the most proud.
  When faced with crises, we rose to a calling higher than politics. 
After the tragic Deepwater Horizon oil spill of 2010 decimated 
communities and ecosystems along the gulf coast, I was appointed by the 
court as coordinating counsel for the Gulf Coast States in that 
historic litigation. Our team, working together with others, won the 
trial and negotiated a multibillion-dollar settlement for our State and 
other coastal States.
  Our work on that spill case built consensus, and it found common 
ground. It brought together the interests of fiscal conservatives and 
environmental advocates, and we delivered results because it was the 
right thing to do. While the victims of the Alaska oil spill, which the 
Presiding Officer is well familiar with, had to wait many years for a 
resolution, we were able to deliver justice and set a gold standard for 
responding quickly and effectively to the needs of our coastal 
communities.
  After all, the institutions our Founders laid out in the Constitution 
are

[[Page 19493]]

only as strong as the people's belief in their strength. When America 
no longer trusts that its representatives are remaining true to their 
oaths, the entire system loses its value.
  As the most recent Senator to take that oath, I remember the feeling 
of the Bible under my left hand. I remember reflecting on a verse it 
contains that has brought me peace in times of challenge. Proverbs 
19:21, which I keep by my bedside, says: ``Many are the plans in a 
person's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails.''
  I remember raising my right hand here in the well, where so many 
others have gone before--many of whom likely found it difficult to 
discern exactly what the Lord's purpose was in that moment. Each of 
them came to this body in the face of significant national challenges. 
Some faced violent conflict, others an economic crisis. Our forebears 
would not be surprised by the issues before this body today, but I do 
believe they would be surprised and discouraged by the emptiness of the 
Marble Room.
  Mr. President, the policy challenges we face are not new ones. This 
body debates a budget resolution every single year. Many years, it also 
faces questions of war and conflict overseas. And at least once a 
decade, it seems, we face some tectonic shift of the economy.
  As a lifelong student of history, I am reassured by stories of the 
grave crises that have been addressed on this very floor. In this 
Chamber, the post-Civil War Senate ensured that the Nation stayed the 
course of healing and reunification. In this very Chamber, the Senate 
put politics aside to defeat the rise of fascism in Europe and guided 
the creation of a new 20th-century world order. On this floor, long-
overdue support for civil rights was won, vote by vote.
  This civil rights struggle is held vividly in the memory of my home 
State. In the early 1960s, my elementary school in Birmingham, AL, was 
segregated. By 1971, I was taking the court with three young Black 
men--my teammates, my classmates, and my friends--to play for the State 
basketball championship.
  As our Nation evolves, the traditions and history of the Senate 
demand that this institution meet each new challenge, armed with the 
will of the American people.
  And as I watched with the rest of the country, it was on this floor 
that the Senate restored faith in our institutions by delivering 
justice after Watergate. It was a real pleasure for me as a lawyer 
later in life to get to meet Fred Thompson, who served in this great 
body and was the counsel for the minority on the Watergate Committee, 
to see the example he set as a Senator and to call him a friend.
  The idea that the chaos and upheaval we see today are unique falls 
flat in the face of this monumental history. Pundits and politicians 
alike are too quick and easy to talk in superlatives, but chaos and 
change are nothing new to this country. The Senate was designed to 
endure, and rooms of marble are built to last.
  Studying that Senate history puts the issues of today in perspective 
for us, but it also sheds light on the true challenge of our 
generation--a newer, more serious threat to the future of this 
institution and its traditions.
  You see, the Senate was designed to accommodate conflict and profound 
disagreement. It was not, however, designed to tolerate the entrenched 
factionalism that dominates today's proceedings. It was not designed 
for the people's representatives to hunker down in private rooms, 
emerging only long enough to come to the Chamber and cast votes.
  There are 100 seats in this Chamber. Each one was contested and hard-
earned, but they are rarely all occupied. The less time we spend in the 
same room, the easier it becomes to view our colleagues on the other 
side of the aisle as obstacles instead of opportunities.
  What do I mean by opportunities? Mr. President, I believe our 
generation of leaders will be judged by history on whether we strove to 
heal the divisions of this body and our Nation. In pursuit of that 
goal, every Member of this body has an opportunity to grow in 
understanding.
  Yet it seems to me that ``compromise'' has become a dirty word in 
American politics, and that is a serious threat to our hopes of 
advancing meaningful policy, in my view.
  It seems that reasonable Americans understand what we are called to 
do better than we do. I see the chairman of the Agriculture Committee 
here, who is a dear friend and maybe can put this better than I can. As 
he knows, a wise farmer in Alabama once told me: When my wife sends me 
to the store to buy a dozen eggs and there are only half a dozen left, 
I come home with a half-dozen.
  I believe we have the power to bring home half a dozen here in the 
Senate and maybe even bring home a dozen for the American people. We 
have the power to be a profound force for good.
  After all, compromise was baked into the Founders' design of this 
institution. At the heart of our system of checks and balances is an 
understanding that no one branch and certainly no one partisan faction 
will get all it wants, all the time.
  From the very beginning, compromise allowed our Nation to embrace 
both the republicanism of Thomas Jefferson and the federalism of 
Alexander Hamilton. The very structure of this body is the result of 
the Connecticut Compromise of 1787, which accommodated proponents of 
both equal and proportional representation.
  The authors of this very pragmatic solution, Roger Sherman and Oliver 
Ellsworth, are depicted on the wall right outside the Senate Chamber, 
not far from the Marble Room, where their example of finding common 
ground would be practiced for decades to come.
  Mr. President, in the shadow of these founding debates, political 
voices today are arguing louder and louder about smaller and smaller 
things. It is easy for those outside this Chamber to insist that they 
know what should be done, and as long as we remain so deeply divided, 
those outside voices will always win.
  When I leave the Senate, I hope to have lived up to the words of a 
different voice, familiar to those of us in the Chamber. On April 23, 
1910, in a time of great change in this country, as the United States 
was coming to define a new world order, President Teddy Roosevelt 
delivered a now famous passage that bears repeating:

       It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out 
     how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could 
     have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is 
     actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat 
     and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short 
     again and again, because there is no effort without error and 
     shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; 
     who knows great enthusiasm, the great devotions; who spends 
     himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end 
     the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he 
     fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place 
     shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither 
     know victory nor defeat.

  Here today, our Nation faces challenges like it did during Watergate 
43 years ago and like it did in the time of Roosevelt 107 years ago. 
When we have each left this great body, I know we would like to be 
remembered as men and women in the arena--as people who spent 
themselves in worthy causes.
  I am convinced the worthiest cause we can join today is a return to 
the collegiality, the pragmatism, and, yes, dare I say, the compromise 
of the Marble Room.
  So, Mr. President, as I leave the Senate, I am indebted to so many--
to those who have helped me become the man I am today, to the 
colleagues who have welcomed me as a partner in the people's business 
and who are so kind to take time to be here today in the Chamber, and 
to the great State of Alabama, which I have had the immense honor to 
serve.
  I thank God every day for the blessing of my wife, Melissa, and my 
children and grandchildren who are here with us today. Greeting every 
day assured by their love and support has made my work here and 
throughout my life possible.
  I thank my staff in Alabama and here in Washington, many of whom are 
here joining us, who have risen to the task of serving our great State 
through

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troubling times. Their tireless dedication reminds me there is a very 
bright future ahead for my State and for this institution.
  I thank the staff of the Senate serving here on the floor and in the 
cloakrooms, the U.S. Capitol Police, and all of those who preserve, 
protect, and defend this hallowed institution.
  I thank each of my colleagues for the privilege of joining them in 
service. The friends and working partners I have found here in the 
Senate give me great hope that, in the right hands, this experiment in 
representative government will long endure.
  I thank the men of principle who have served Alabama with honor for 
years before me. I especially thank my friend Richard Shelby for his 
friendship and his guidance during my time here in the Senate.
  Finally, I thank the people of my State. Alabama is a beautiful place 
with millions of hard-working, good people who call it home. As I look 
back on my career, I am most proud of the last 7 years I have spent 
working on their behalf, both in Montgomery and here in Washington.
  Mr. President, in preparing my remarks today, I spent a lot of time 
in the Marble Room. I reflected on the stone that built it and the 
bedrock of my hometown. I thought about the lawmakers who frequented it 
years ago. I thought about the challenges they faced, their own 
principled stands and pragmatic negotiations. Most importantly, I 
thought about the common ground they found there.
  Off the record and away from the cameras, this space represents an 
opportunity to once again find balance. Balance between principle and 
pragmatism in the Senate would reflect the very spirit of America, 
which is defined by balance.
  The zeal for adventure that won the West and put human footsteps on 
the face of the Moon is balanced by a reverence for tradition and our 
founding principles--individual liberty, the rule of law, and the 
pursuit of happiness. The entrepreneurial drive that built great cities 
and today drives innovators to ask ``what's next?'' is balanced by a 
solemn remembrance of the struggle and sacrifice that have paved the 
way.
  The Senate is a sacred place that was designed to embrace the spirit 
of America. To lose the art of balance and compromise in this body is 
to lose something essentially American. If we cannot find shared cause, 
shared purpose, in the quiet corners of the space across the hall, then 
we may never find it here on the floor of the Senate, where the critics 
are so quick to point out how the doers of deeds could have done them 
better.
  As I prepare to leave this esteemed body, I urge my colleagues, who 
will face many more challenges ahead, to take these words to heart. For 
the sake of our Nation, I urge them to return to the Marble Room.
  With that, Mr. President, I yield the floor.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The majority leader.

                          ____________________