Remembering Senator Paul Wellstone

Floor Speech

REMEMBERING SENATOR PAUL WELLSTONE -- (Senate - October 25, 2007)

Mr. DURBIN. Mr. President, someone asked me once how I would describe my politics. I told them: I believe in the Gospels of Saint Paul. Paul Douglas. Paul Simon. And Paul Wellstone.

They were, in my opinion, three of the best public servants I have known. I had the privilege to know each of them and be inspired by them. Not a week goes by that I do not draw on some lesson or some truth they taught me.

Today, I find myself thinking especially of Paul Wellstone. It was 5 years ago today that Paul and his wife Sheila died in a plane crash in heavy fog in the Iron Range of northern Minnesota. The information reached us in Chicago a few hours later. I was asked to comment on local television station. I am sure that the emotion in my voice betrayed my real feelings about this great man, and Sheila.

Also lost in the crash were Paul and Sheila's daughter Marcia; their friends and campaign workers, Will McLaughlin, Tom Lapic and Mary McEvoy; and the plane's pilots, Richard Conroy and Michael Guess.

To understand who Paul Wellstone was and what he meant to so many people, listen to this story from John Nichols, the Washington correspondent for ``The Nation.''

Two hours after the plane crash, he had just finished delivering a keynote speech to about 150 family farm activists in a small town in Wisconsin when the conference organizer whispered the news to him. These were people who knew Paul Wellstone as the college professor who was willing to march with them--and even to be arrested with them--to protest family farm foreclosures. When he was elected to the Senate, they thought of Paul Wellstone as their Senator, whether or not they lived in Minnesota.

When they learned that he had died, John Nichols wrote: ``Cries of ``No!'' and ``My God! My God!'' filled the room, as grown men felt for tables to keep their balance, husbands and wives hugged one another and everyone began an unsuccessful struggle to choke back tears. The group gathered in a large circle. People wept in silence until, finally, a woman began to recite the Lord's Prayer for the son of Russian Jewish immigrants who had touched the lives and the hearts of solid Midwestern Catholic and Lutheran farmers who do not think of themselves as having many friends in Congress.

``He was our flagbearer,'' one woman said. ``There are plenty of people in Congress who vote right, but Paul did everything right. We didn't have to ask him, we didn't have to lobby him, he understood. It was like having one of us in Congress.''

That was how Paul Wellstone wanted it. He once said: People have to believe you are on their side, that someone in the Senate is listening. If there is someone in Congress, maybe just one person, it gives them a sense that change is possible.

Paul Wellstone was, by some standards, one of the unlikeliest Senators ever. His first election, in 1990, remains one of the great upset victories in Minnesota history. He was a college professor taking on an incumbent Senator. His campaign had very little money.

He bought his first three suits--for $100 apiece--during that campaign, and crisscrossed Minnesota in an old green school bus that always seemed to be breaking down.

No matter. What he lacked in money and consultants, he more than made up for in ideas and passion and hustle. ``Politics,'' he said, ``is what we create by what we do, what we hope for, and what we dare to imagine.''

Minnesotans believed him, and sent him to the U.S. Senate--the only challenger to defeat an incumbent Senator that year.

Even with his new suits, Paul Wellstone stood out in the Senate. During his first weeks here, one reporter wrote that he ``projects an image of barely in-control energy and enthusiasm.'' Another reporter described how ``he has a habit of going pie-eyed with excitement and pumping the air with his hands.''

I remember him in the back row here. He used to like to get a long cord on his microphone and range all over that area, just walking and talking and waving his arms with that kind of stumbling gait that was part of the back injury that had haunted him most of his adult life. When he got going, people were listening, always.

When Paul Wellstone was in junior high, his mother--a Ukrainian immigrant--worked in the cafeteria of his school--a fact that embarrassed her son greatly. Later in life, whenever he visited a school, he always introduced himself to the cafeteria workers.

He did the same thing in the Senate. He seemed to know every security guard, kitchen worker, and elevator operator in this Capitol Building by name.

But this is what was different about Paul Wellstone: He didn't just talk to cafeteria workers; he voted as a Senator with them in mind. As he said, ``Some people are here to fight for the Rockefellers. I'm here to fight for the little fellers.'' I am sure Jay Rockefeller didn't take offense.

Paul Wellstone fought for family farmers on the edge of foreclosure, for workers facing layoffs, for older people trying to decide which prescription to fill this month. He and Sheila--his indispensable partner for 39 years--fought for women and children threatened by violence.

He fought for teachers and coal miners. For veterans. For people suffering the sting of discrimination and denial because of race, gender, sexual orientation, or physical or mental disability.

He fought for immigrant parents who work at less-than-minimum-wage jobs. He listened to them, and looked them in the eye. And when he did, he used to say, he saw his own parents.

He fought for ``good education, good health care, and good jobs.'' He demanded fairness for those to whom life had been unfair. He gave people hope and courage.

It didn't matter to him if he was on the wrong end of a 99-to-1 vote. He voted his conscience. I was in the Senate one day when we had a vote on a defense-related issue. I had decided that I was going to vote against an amendment about to be called by one of the Senators on the other side of the aisle. As is custom in the Senate, they roll through the rollcall and recount who voted how. When they listed the names in the negative, mine was the only name they mentioned and I realized I was by myself, and I said, ``Where's Wellstone?'' And darned if he didn't walk through the door and vote ``no'' with me. That's the kind of person he was. He wasn't afraid to be the only one or the only one of two Senators voting on an issue.

Now, Paul Wellstone was a wrestler not just with issues but literally--he was a champion wrestler in high school. In the Senate--even with that bad back and hobbled by M.S.--he remained incredibly strong. He held the push-up record at the Capitol police gym: 91 in 1 minute. But it was his strength of character, even more than his strength of body, that was truly extraordinary.

I remember the night the Senate voted on the Iraq war resolution. Mr. President, there were 23 of us who voted against the Iraq war resolution. Three of us remained on the floor afterwards--three of us who had voted no. The Chamber was clear; it was late at night. I recall walking up to Paul Wellstone, who was in a tight election contest back in Minnesota, and saying to him: Paul, I hope this doesn't cost you the election. And he said to me: It's OK if it does. This is what I believe and this is who I am. The people of Minnesota would not expect anything less.

That was it. A handful of words, summarizing who he was and what he believed in and what he thought politics was all about. That was the last conversation that I had with Paul Wellstone before he lost his life in that plane crash 5 years ago today.

Much was lost in that crash. But much survives. To keep their parents' work alive, Paul and Sheila's sons, Mark and David, have started a progressive advocacy organization called Wellstone Action. Perfect. In the last 4 years, more than 14,300 people have attended ``Camp Wellstone'' workshops in nearly every state, where they have learned to how to make politics relevant and effective. And here I am going to give a plug: if you want to know more about their good work, go to their Web site: www.wellstone.org. Take a look.

The Senate is fortunate to still have the service of talented, passionate men and women who learned from Paul Wellstone himself. I count myself lucky as one of those lucky ones.

One thing I will close with: One of Paul Wellstone's real passions was this issue of discrimination against the mentally ill. It touched his life and his family and he knew it personally and was determined to make sure those suffering from mental illness had a fair shake for health insurance and medical services. He did not get the job done by the time he left us in the Senate, but that battle was carried on valiantly by Senator Ted Kennedy and Senator Pete Domenici, who passed the legislation. I hope that the House will pass a similar bill soon so we can honor Paul Wellstone and do something important.

Paul Wellstone was full of hope. A reporter who knew him well recalled a conversation they had after the 1994 elections, when Democrats lost control of both Houses of Congress for the first time in decades.

This is what he wrote:

Wellstone was upset but not down. ``We don't have time for despair,'' he said. ``The fight doesn't change. It just gets harder. But it's the same fight.''

I wish Paul Wellstone were here today. Of all of the thousands of men and women I have served with in the House and Senate he and Congressman Mike Synar of Oklahoma are two that I always wish were around for a phone call, for a word of advice--just to sit with for a few moments and hear their brand of politics.

If Paul Wellstone were here today I know what he would tell us: Don't give up. Don't despair. There are so many people counting on you. You've got to keep fighting. So let's do more than just honor and miss our friend today. Let's vow to stick together, pick up the fallen standard and continue his work.

Mr. COLEMAN. Mr. President, I want to rise to take the floor for a few moments to reflect and to pause to think about the life and legacy of former Senator Paul Wellstone and his wife Sheila.

It was 5 years ago today that we suffered the terrible tragedy of Senator Wellstone's death, tragedy for my State, for the entire Nation.

Senator Wellstone and I had been engaged in a very hard-fought and vigorous election contest. We were about 10 days from the election. I think everybody in our State reflects on where they were at the moment they heard the news. We were both, Senator Wellstone and myself, on the way to a debate in Duluth, MN. I was up in Grand Rapids flying in on a King Air plane, the same type of plane Senator Wellstone was flying when it went down and caused his death and the death of his wife Sheila, their daughter Marcia, and five others.

We were about to get in our plane, probably about 25 miles, somewhere in the same area as the Senator. We heard the news with a great sense of disbelief, we knelt down and said our prayers for the Senator, for his wife, for the others who died.

The news was met by disbelief, shock, and sadness. In the hours that followed, it was as if the entire State of Minnesota had stopped. For so many Minnesotans, regardless of where you stood politically or whether you agreed with Senator Wellstone's politics, you admired him and his unwavering commitment to the things he cared about most. He was so passionate about what he believed.

That admiration is evidenced in folks such as Mary Oberg, who lives not far from me in St. Paul. I was looking at a piece on Public Radio today. She was not far from being in St. Paul. In a news story I read, she said she did not necessarily support all of Paul's views, but she liked the fact that there is still a memorial bench in her neighborhood, in my neighborhood, that honors Senator Wellstone to this day.

It shows respect, Mary said. And that is what is lacking in the world today, is a lack of respect for others. This is a magnificent institution. I see my colleague from West Virginia is here. He has been here a long time, has a great sense of history--I try to visit with him as often as I can--a great sense of collegiality.

In a world that has become so divisive and so partisan, so angry, whether in this Chamber or in the House Chamber, Senator Wellstone reflected in the passion for his belief that politics was not a death sport, it was something which you could agree to disagree and still shake a hand and ask: How are you doing? And move on. The kind of respect that Mary Oberg reflected on was that hallmark of Senator Wellstone himself.

His passion, enthusiasm, and energy for public service is something that inspires me, as it inspired so many folks that have followed his footsteps into public service. Nowhere was that passion more clear than in his unyielding support for those individuals who suffered the ravages of mental illness. Since he arrived in the Senate, he worked day in and day out to pass mental health parity legislation; put an end to the discrimination against people with mental illness and chemical addiction.

Paul was also willing to put aside politics on this important issue. He worked hand in hand with another champion for mental health issues, Senator PETE DOMENICI, another individual who has been around here for many years and was and is so passionate about that issue.

Working together, Senators DOMENICI and Wellstone helped millions of Americans overcome the stigma surrounding mental health disorders. Millions of Americans were able to seek treatment and gain hope through their powerful commitment to this issue.

I cannot imagine a better way to honor Paul's legacy than sending a strong mental health parity bill to the President of the United States and have him sign it into law.

I also want to comment about a unique living memorial to the Wellstones, and that is the Paul and Sheila Wellstone Center for Community which opened its doors a year ago. It is truly a Paul and Sheila Wellstone kind of place. It stands literally where the East meets the West. Since Paul came from the East, as I did, he probably felt very much at home in our ethnic neighborhoods, filled with middle-class working families.

It was constructed, in large measure, with $10 million generously provided by this Chamber. The Paul and Sheila Wellstone Center is a 100,000 square foot facility with meeting places for a variety of cultural, social, and civic activities for people of all backgrounds. It also serves as an education and training center.

The west side is kind of like our Ellis Island. It is the place where, in the Midwest, immigrant groups came in in the old days. It was the Jews and Lebanese; today it is the Hmong and the Somalis.

A community center is a poor substitute for the real thing, Paul and Sheila themselves, but it is worth doing, providing a safe place where kids can learn and play, families can receive training and support, community members can be organized to fight injustice and partake in the American dream.

These and so many other issues that Paul cared about transcended partisan politics and ideology. The greatest legacy to Senator Wellstone is to stay rooted in his belief that Government has an obligation to do what it can do, which is to help those who need help the most.

Five years later, I certainly have a greater understanding and appreciation for the challenges that Senator Wellstone faced and others that came before him of serving in a Congress that is too often governed by partisanship rather than a culture and a commitment to getting things done.

I have made a commitment to follow in that tradition of working hard and being a vocal advocate for our great State. This anniversary should be an occasion to celebrate the Wellstones' lives and to remember the commitment Paul and his family made and continue to make using public service to improve the lives of all people.

On this anniversary of their death, I hope everyone can continue to hold Paul, Sheila, their family, and the others who died in their terrible crash, hold them close in your hearts, hold them in your prayers, as my family and I will.

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