Defending Public Safety Employees' Retirement Act

Floor Speech

Mr. MURPHY. Mr. President, we had a wonderful event last night here
in Washington that I was able to attend. It was a night honoring
champions for anti-gun violence measures across the country. It was put
on by Sandy Hook Promise, which is an organization that has grown up
out of the tragedy in Sandy Hook. A number of parents have become the
organizers of an effort to try and learn from what happened at Sandy
Hook and make sure we don't repeat the mistakes of the past.

We actually got to honor two of our colleagues there. We honored
Senator Pat Toomey for his work 2 years ago on the background checks
bill, as well as Senator Stabenow, who, of course, has been a great
advocate for increasing resources in our mental health system. And as
wonderful a night as it was to honor these champions of change, it also
was a night in which we were reminded about that terrible morning in
December of 2012.

We watched a short video of the news coverage, and we listened to the
parents of Daniel Barden and Dylan Hockley. The husband of Mary
Sherlach talked to us about what their lives have been like in the
years since that shooting at Sandy Hook.

I remember the hours and days after the shooting. I remember feeling
like I needed to be really restrained about talking about the obvious
policy issues that, to me, were due for airing and that sort of tumbled
out of the facts surrounding that tragedy. I mean, this kid--this
really troubled young man--walked into a school with a semiautomatic
weapon designed for the military and shot 20 kids in less than 5
minutes. This gun was designed for the military, designed to kill as
many people as quickly as possible, and it killed every single kid it
hit. There were 20 kids shot. Twenty kids were dead in a matter of
minutes.

So it seemed to me we should have an immediate discussion about why
this kind of gun is still legal. But I held back because it felt like
the mourning and the grieving should take precedence over action. It
took me only up to the first wake that I attended to realize I was
wrong. Senator Blumenthal and I went to every single wake and every
funeral we could over the course of that first week--and there were
dozens.

At first, I remember waiting in a really long line, standing next to
Senator Blumenthal. I remember as if it were yesterday, talking to a
sobbing mother, who was standing in front of us waiting in that line
and telling us about how her child survived the shooting only because
she had been sick that day and she stayed home from school. But all her
daughters' friends were dead. As we approached that family, I remember
struggling with what to say. I am lucky that the senior Senator from
Connecticut, who sits behind me in the Chamber, had the right words
ready. He said to the parents something like this: If you are ever
ready or willing to talk about how we make sure this doesn't happen
again, we will be waiting. The dad didn't pause more than a few seconds
before he said, clear as day: We are ready now.

In the years since, these mass shootings have become as commonplace
as rain storms. Since 2011, the number of mass shootings in the United
States has tripled--tripled. After each one, the forces of the status
quo--the defenders of the gun industry--tell us we can't talk about
policy reform in the days after a shooting. One prominent commentator
called those of us who dared talk about change in the wake of
Charleston ``sick.'' How convenient that is. How convenient that, at
the moment when the world is watching, when the country is asking
itself what we can do to make sure another mass slaughter doesn't
happen again, the rules say we can't say a word.

But think about how these rules would work, because Charleston
happens 10 times over, every single day, across this country. Eighty-
six people die, on average, every day because of guns.

Last Thursday the families of Clementa Pinckney, Cynthia Hurd,
Tywanza Sanders, Sharonda Coleman Singleton, Myra Thompson, Ethel Lee
Lance, Susie Jackson, Daniel Lee Simmons, Sr., and DePayne Middleton-
Doctor mourned the loss of their loved ones in Charleston.

But the day before, on Wednesday, the families of Angel Feliciano,
Malik Mercer, Eric Ferguson, Michael Kidd, Jr., Thomas Whitaker, Roy
Brown, Martarese Gentry, Keith Battle, and Ronald Collins mourned their
loss. And those were just nine. There were dozens more on Wednesday,
the day before the Charleston shooting, who were killed by guns.

If we can't talk about anti-gun violence policy the day after a large
number of Americans are shot, then we will never talk about anti-gun
violence policy, because on average 86 people die from gun violence
every single day. But even if we accept that there is never a bad time
to talk about how we can end this carnage, then we also have to have
the courage to take on all the other ridiculous arguments about why we
can't act.

Now, the first one is familiar because it comes right after the mass
shooting happens. A former NRA board member trotted this one out within
hours of Charleston: He said that the solution was to just arm more
pastors and parishioners in churches so they can defend themselves. The
more there are people who have guns, the less people will die from
guns--so goes this logic. So don't act.

The simple argument is that more good guys with guns equals less gun
deaths. The problem with that argument is it is a boldfaced lie. Study
after study shows that the more guns there are in a community, the more
crime there is. The more guns there are, the more gun homicides there
are. New evidence makes the case even clearer. As States more clearly
separate between those with lax gun laws and those with stricter gun
laws, we can look to see what happens.

The second argument is one that I have heard from my Republican
colleagues in the Senate just in the last few days--that these laws
can't stop a madman such as Dylann Root or Adam Lanza from perpetrating
violence. Some of my colleagues say the only recourse is to close our
eyes and pray this doesn't happen again. But again, these stubborn
facts betray that argument. As I said, now that we have States that
have loose gun laws and States that have tougher gun laws, we can see
what happens. Over and over research shows us that jurisdictions that
make it a little bit harder for bad guys to get guns have less gun
deaths.

In my State of Connecticut, Johns Hopkins researchers concluded that
our permit-to-carry laws have reduced gun crimes by 40 percent.
Similarly, they concluded that in Missouri, the repeal of a similar law
increased gun homicides by 25 percent. Now, both studies controlled for
all other possible factors influencing gun crimes, and they still found
these shocking results.

While the facts are still fresh out of Charleston, there is evidence
that a different set of laws could have--not would have--stopped Dylann
Root without having any effect on law-abiding gun owners in South
Carolina.

Root had charges pending for trespassing and drug crimes. Alone,
neither would have disqualified him from owning a gun. But what if our
laws were different so that multiple misdemeanors--a pattern of
criminal behavior--disqualified you from buying a firearm? Or what
about a permit-to-carry law?

Maybe local law enforcement knew enough about Root--his criminal past
or his association with extremist rightwing organizations--to know he
shouldn't carry a weapon. Now, maybe not, but if South Carolina had a
permit-to-carry law, at least there would have been a chance law
enforcement would have withheld a permit from a young man as plainly
unstable as Root.

But even if you don't believe that any specific law could have
prevented the tragedy in Charleston or in Newtown, I am not sure that
it matters, because separate and aside from the specific case-by-case
impact of any law is the collective moral and psychological effect of
nonaction. No matter how maligned Congress becomes, we still set the
moral tone for the Nation. When we declare something to be morally out
of bounds, especially when we do it in a bipartisan or nonpartisan
manner, Americans listen. They take cues from our endorsements and from
our approbations.

That is why, in my heart of hearts, I believe that our silence has
made us complicit in these murders. I don't care that an assault
weapons ban or universal background check maybe wouldn't have stopped
the slaughter in Charleston. When we do nothing year after year, our
silence sends a silent message of endorsement to the killers. I am not
saying we are in conscious alignment with these assassins, but when all
we do in the wake of Newtown, Tucson, Aurora, and Charleston is
rhetorical, then those on the fringe, those hanging on the edge of
reason, those contemplating the unthinkable take a cue that we don't
really mean it when we condemn mass violence, because if we did, we
would, at the very least, try to do something--anything--to stop it,
and we don't.

Quite frankly, removing one flag from one building in South Carolina
doesn't cut it, and neither does a handful of retailers ceasing to sell
Confederate flag paraphernalia. Don't get me wrong. I actually think
the tidal wave of sentiment to remove the last vestiges of this symbol
of slavery and racism is significant. That flag has quietly endorsed
conscious and subconscious racism, particularly in the South--but
really all across the country--for as long as it has continued to be
perceived as a mainstream American symbol.

The events of the last few days are also important because they show
that people of all political stripes--conservatives and liberals,
Democrats and Republicans--have been so emotionally moved by the
shooting in Charleston that they were inspired to some sort of action.
That matters.

But removing the Confederate flag is a necessary but totally,
completely insufficient response to Charleston. Taking down a flag from
a building is a pretty easy giveback. Deciding to spend billions of
dollars to make sure that troubled young men get the help they need for
their sickness is harder, and so is taking on the gun industry and
listening to the 90 percent of Americans who want to make sure
criminals aren't a continued profit center for the gun makers and
sellers.

Now, Walmart should be congratulated for ceasing sales of the
Confederate flag, but they still advertise an assault weapon online
that even their description concedes is designed for use by law
enforcement and the military. Did you know that last year there were at
least 92 shootings in Walmart? Some 16 people died, and 42 people were
injured by guns in Walmart. Getting rid of the Confederate flag from
their shelves isn't going to help that unbelievably disturbing trend.

So we need real action, a real debate. We need a real, honest policy
to happen here. And, no, it is not all about guns. It is about mental
health, it is about law enforcement, and it is about a culture of
violence and hate that we have just become immune to.

In South Carolina, Reverend Pinckney knew something about real
action. He supported things like expanded background checks and body
cameras for police, maybe because he came from a family of action. His
father and grandfather were both pastors who fought to end White-only
political primaries and segregated school busing. He wasn't just about
condemnation. He lived his life to effectuate political
change. Last night, at the Sandy Hook Promise dinner, I chatted with my
friend Mark Barden. His son, Daniel, massacred at Sandy Hook Elementary
School by a young man wielding a military-style assault weapon with
cartridges of 30 bullets apiece, would have just finished third grade
last week. Mark recalled how special Danny was and how Daniel, just 6
years old, lived a life of action, too. Daniel was that kid who sensed
when other children were hurting. His dad told me last night how Daniel
would see little kids sitting alone at lunch with no one to talk to,
and Daniel would go over, sit down next to them, and make a new friend,
just because it was the right thing to do.

Reverend Pinckney and little Daniel Barden knew the difference
between words and actions. They understood that actions are what really
count.

The U.S. gun homicide rate is 20 times higher than that of our 22
peer nations. And 86 people die every day from guns--that is 4 Sandy
Hooks, 10 Charlestons every day. Since Sandy Hook, there has been a
school shooting, on average, every week.

How on Earth can we live with ourselves if we do nothing or, worse,
if we don't even try.

I yield the floor.

I suggest the absence of a quorum.

BREAK IN TRANSCRIPT

Source