S10828 CONGRESSIONAL RECORD — SENATE December 9, 2008 

will miss his comity, his courtesy, and 

his refreshing bipartisan spirit always 

seeking consensus solutions for the 

good of the country. Whether in committee or on the Senate floor, he never 

succumbs to the bitter, destructive 

partisanship which has all too often 

characterized this chamber in recent 

years. 

Senator WARNER has spoken out 

against his own party when he felt that 

the wrong course was being pursued. 

When the horrors of Abu Ghraib came 

to light, JOHN WARNER did not hesitate 

to help write the legislation to restrict 

the use of torture. 

Senator WARNER embodies the guiding principles set down by another of 

our country’s brave warriors, GEN 

Douglas MacArthur, who proclaimed 

his leading lights to be, ‘‘Duty, honor, 

country.’’ 

Mr. President, without qualification, 

I can say that it has been an absolute 

pleasure to have served with this distinguished and esteemed Virginia gentleman, and I will miss him. 

CHUCK HAGEL

Mr. President, I came to know Senator HAGEL in 1997 when we worked together on the Byrd-Hagel Resolution 

related to the Kyoto Protocol. We 

made a good team because our effort 

was approved unanimously, by a vote 

of 95–0. 

In our work together, I made a new 

friend because I found Senator HAGEL

to be a likeable and cooperative person 

as well as a knowledgeable and hardworking Senator. 

My respect for this dynamic Senator 

increased as I watched him become one 

of the Senate’s most outspoken critics 

of Mr. Bush’s war in Iraq. Several of us 

were already pointing to the disastrous 

results of the Bush administration’s 

flawed and failed Iraqi war policies. 

But Senator HAGEL’s opposition to the 

war carried very special impact. He is a 

conservative, a member of the President’s own political party, and a military veteran. In fact, he still carries 

shrapnel in his chest and remnants of 

burns to his face from his service as an 

infantryman in Vietnam. Senator 

HAGEL now calls Mr. Bush’s war in Iraq 

‘‘an absolute replay of Vietnam.’’ 

I will miss my friend and colleague. 

The Senate needs strong, independent 

voices like Senator HAGEL—lawmakers 

who are willing to put the best interests of our country and American people over partisan politics. 

PETE DOMENICI

Mr. President, when the Senate convenes next January, it is difficult to 

accept that Senator DOMENICI will not 

be here. 

This son of an Italian immigrant grocer was elected to the Senate in 1972, 

making him the first Republican in 

nearly 40 years to be elected to the 

Senate from the great State of New 

Mexico. He is now the longest serving 

Senator in the history of New Mexico. 

In the Senate, he established himself 

as an expert on fiscal policies and the 

intricacies of the Federal budget. Having served with Senator DOMENICI on 

the Appropriations and Budget Committees, I have come to know and respect him not only as a dear friend and 

colleague, but also as a formidable opponent. Senator DOMENICI and I have 

clashed swords many times on the Senate floor, and, believe me, when you 

clashed with him, you would have the 

fight of your life. He has one of the 

sharpest minds on Capitol Hill. He is 

one of the most knowledgeable people 

on the budget on Capitol Hill. And he is 

always prepared. 

Oh, how I regret that he will be leaving us all too soon. But I would like to 

use this opportunity to thank the senior Senator from New Mexico for his 

wonderful service and to congratulate 

him on an outstanding career in the 

Senate. 

Thank you, Senator DOMENICI, for all 

your work for your State, and our 

country. And, thank you, PETE, for 

being a friend. 

f 

TRIBUTE TO MAJOR BENJAMIN 

VENNING 

Mr. DURBIN. Mr. President, I rise 

today to honor Major Benjamin 

Venning, U.S. Marine Corps, for his 3 

years of service to the U.S. Senate and 

for his continued service to our Nation 

and its Corps. 

From December 2005 to December 

2006, Major Venning served in my office 

as a military fellow. He came to my office soon after a tour in Fallujah, 

where his actions in service to the 

United States earned him a Bronze 

Star. Major Venning had experienced 

first-hand the rising violence in Iraq. 

His on-the-ground experience in Iraq 

gave him tremendous insight on issues 

affecting servicemembers and veterans. 

Many who served in Iraq and Afghanistan have returned with serious physical injuries or have even paid the ultimate price. Others have returned with 

more invisible wounds, injuries that 

are not immediately apparent but that 

bring pain and suffering to a returning 

veteran and his or her family. Today, 

traumatic brain injury and post-traumatic stress syndrome are recognized 

as signature injuries of the conflicts in 

Iraq and Afghanistan. While Major 

Venning served on my staff he helped 

draw attention to these invisible 

wounds. With his relationships at Bethesda Naval, he helped me understand 

the impact of traumatic brain injuries 

on returning soldiers and marines. 

With Major Venning on my team, I was 

able to ask hard questions about how 

our government was responding to the 

growing number of veterans needing 

help for these serious injuries. 

In April 2006, I sent a letter that 

Major Venning worked on, which was 

one of the first to ask the Department 

of Veterans Affairs to closely review 

its ability to provide proper mental 

health care to returning veterans. Another Senator from the State of Illinois 

signed that letter: Barack Obama. 

Today, as the world awaits his inauguration, the President-elect has promised he will continue to improve mental health treatment for troops and 

veterans suffering from combat-related 

psychological injuries. 

After his service as a military fellow, 

Major Venning was named the Deputy 

Director of the Marine Corps Senate 

Liaison Office. It is no surprise that he 

was as loved in that office as he was in 

mine. It was my pleasure to host his 

promotion to major, with his friends 

and family in attendance, in my office 

in the Capitol. His commanding physical presence is matched only by his 

compassion and understanding of the 

issues facing our returning servicemembers, which was never on better 

display than when he helped shepherd 

wounded veterans as my guests at the 

State of the Union. 

Major Ben Venning is a marine in the 

best tradition of the Corps. His efforts 

have informed the Congress and have 

represented the Corps’ values and capabilities. His performance here will 

leave a lasting mark on my office, the 

U.S. Senate and the Marine Corps long 

after he has departed. 

Mr. LEAHY. Mr. President, it is my 

pleasure today to congratulate and 

thank Major Benjamin Venning of the 

U.S. Marine Corps. This week, Major 

Venning finishes up a highly successful 

assignment as Deputy Director of the 

Marine Corps Liaison Office to the U.S. 

Senate, which is responsible for providing information about the Corps to 

this institution. He has served the Senate and the Marine Corps superbly, and 

he is a credit to the entire Corps. 

Major Venning learned about the 

Senate during a fellowship in 2006 with 

Senator DURBIN of Illinois. He worked 

on timely reserve pay and budget 

issues, getting to know the ins-andouts of the often arcane appropriations 

process. Senator DURBIN, as I am, is a 

member of the Senate’s Defense Appropriations Subcommittee, which handles the Senate’s work in writing the 

annual budget bill for the Department 

of Defense. That was an ideal perch for 

Major Venning to grasp the complicated but essential financing of our 

extensive national security operations. 

In his next assignment, joining the 

Corps’ liaison office, he brought the 

same sense of intelligence and integrity that he showed in that year with 

the senior Senator from Illinois. Major 

Venning was always prompt in answering questions about the Marine Corps, 

whether about plans for growth of the 

force or the minutia of a particular 

program. He and the entire team in the 

liaison office provided excellent support for Senate delegations traveling 

to foreign nations to meet with international leaders and to review foreign 

assistance programs. He ensured that 

extensive itineraries unfolded smoothly and productively. 

Major Venning is a marine through 

and through, displaying great dedication to and knowledge about the force. 

Staffing a recent mission overseas, for 

example, hewing to longstanding tradition, he made sure that the Corps’ 


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December 9, 2008 CONGRESSIONAL RECORD — SENATE S10829 

birthday was observed in a rousing rendition of ‘‘Happy Birthday.’’ 

It should be little surprise to anyone 

who has known Major Venning over the 

years—in his years growing up in 

South Carolina and Virginia or at college at the Virginia Military Institute—that he would become such an 

asset to the Corps. I have no doubt that 

he will bring the same sterling qualities in his next assignment with Company A, 4th Amphibious Assault Vehicle Battalion at Norfolk, VA. 

Major Venning will go far in his future endeavors with the Corps and beyond. I know that all Senators join in 

wishing him all the best and in expressing our heartfelt thanks for a job well 

done. 

f 

REMEMBERING RICHARD AND 

JEAN DEWINE 

Mr. MCCAIN. Mr. President, today I 

pay tribute to the parents of our good 

friend and former colleague from Ohio, 

Mike DeWine. Richard and Jean 

DeWine died just a few weeks ago, 4 

days apart from each other. Dick was 

85, and Jean was 83. They were together 

almost their entire lives, sharing a 

beautiful love story and 65 wonderful 

years of marriage. 

I had the honor of meeting Mike’s 

parents in February when I was visiting Young’s Jersey Dairy in their 

hometown of Yellow Springs, OH. It 

was a privilege to talk to them. They 

were so gracious and kind. I could see 

how proud they were of their son and 

how proud they were of our Nation. 

Mike spoke about his parents’ lives 

and especially their love of family at 

their joint funeral service held on November 5, 2008. In tribute to Dick and 

Jean, I ask unanimous consent that 

the entirety of his remarks be printed 

in the RECORD at the conclusion of 

mine. 

There were no two finer Americans 

than Dick and Jean DeWine. May God 

bless them and their family. 

There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in the 

RECORD, as follows: 

Thank you all so much for coming today 

and for your friendship and love. Thank you 

to JoFrannye, Patty, Jocelyn, and the choir 

for the music, and to our grandson Albert for 

playing the piano before Mass. 

Thank you Father Geraci and Father 

Hagan for being the celebrants today, but I 

have to say to Father Tom that right now, 

Dad must be thinking: ‘‘This Mass is much, 

much too long!’’ 

I once asked Dad why he kept going to 

Fairborn to Mass. He told me he found a 

great priest there, whose homilies were exactly 3 minutes long! 

Fran and I thank all of you who helped 

care for my parents, enabling them to stay 

in their home the last few years, especially 

Patrick, Jamie, Megan, and Barbara—thank 

you. All of my parents’ care givers have been 

just great. 

And, thanks to all of you who stopped by 

to visit my parents. Cousin Jerome, we 

thank you for always being there to brighten 

my parents’ day. 

When I was growing up, I always thought 

that I had the greatest parents in the world. 

I never changed my mind. 

My parents both grew up in Yellow Springs 

and both lived on Xenia Avenue. Dad was 

born at home in a house, which is the present 

day Wind’s Cafe Wine Cellar. They lived next 

door to the family feed store. Growing up 

practically in the feed store, itself, and right 

in the heart of Yellow Springs, Dad was surrounded by a colorful cast of characters who 

would make a novelist proud! He could remember watching out his bedroom window 

on Saturday nights, as fights would erupt between patrons of the local bars. 

One time, when Dad was a young boy, my 

grandfather asked him if he wanted to ride 

with his employee, Jimmy, when he took a 

feed delivery to Springfield. He told Dad he 

could drag the bags from the back of the 

truck up to the front, so that Jimmy 

wouldn’t have to get on and off the truck to 

get them. 

Before leaving town, Jimmy and Dad each 

had a dime and bought a 5-cent Bluebird pie. 

Since they both had a nickel left over, 

Jimmy asked my young Dad if he wanted to 

play the numbers. And, he did! 

Later that day, when they got back to the 

feed store, my grandfather, shouted, ‘‘Dick, 

the Sheriff’s been looking for you! Were you 

playing the numbers? Dad ran out of the 

store, screaming, ‘‘The Sheriff will never 

find me!’’ 

He went out and hid among the stacks of 

feed sacks. When my grandfather finally 

found him, all he said was, ‘‘Here’s your $25— 

you won!’’ 

At the same time, my mother was growing 

up not far up the street. Mother’s father was 

a professor of literature at Antioch College. 

He was an expert in Shakespeare, Chaucer, 

and Milton. He and my grandmother greatly 

influenced my mother, particularly instilling in her a great love and appreciation for 

words. 

My grandfather had grown up on a farm in 

upstate New York, and every summer, he 

would take his family back there so he could 

help with the farm work. Some of Mother’s 

fondest memories were of those idyllic summers—playing with her sisters, Judy and 

Dorothy, in the ice house on hot summer 

days, riding hay wagons, walking to get groceries at the local general store, and watching her grandmother milk cows on a onelegged stool! 

As a young girl, Mother loved to ride 

horses. In fact, her parents kept a horse at 

their house on Xenia Avenue! They called 

the horse Cheyenne. Once when Mother was 

about 11 years old, she rode Cheyenne all 

alone from Yellow Springs to Wilberforce, 

some 7 miles away, using only the directions 

and map that my grandfather drew for her. 

In the summer of 1940, one of my father’s 

best friends was Herbert Berger. That year, 

Herbert went away for the summer. He had 

asked Dad to ‘‘look out for’’ his girlfriend, 

who happened to be 15-year-old Jean Liddle. 

Well, Dad did. And, my parents were inseparable from then on. 

Dick DeWine and Jean Liddle married 3 

years later on September 2, 1943. Dad was 20, 

and Mother was 18. 

World War II, of course, was raging at this 

time. Dad went in as a replacement. He was 

a Private with K Company and saw combat 

in France, Germany, and Austria. Captain 

Bell was their leader. About five years ago, 

Dad sent an email about first seeing Captain 

Bell when he and his buddy, Ernie Dessecker, 

had arrived in Europe and were awaiting 

their company assignment. This is what my 

dad wrote: 

‘‘We were told that the next morning, we 

would be assigned to some infantry company. That night, we went into a bar and 

were bought some beer by some GI’s who 

knew we were—for want of a better word— 

very uptight. All they talked about was Captain Bell and his K Company. They told us 

that if we wanted to do a lot of fighting that 

would be the company to be assigned to. 

That was not really what [Ernie] and I had in 

mind! 

The next day, we were loaded on a truck 

and at each town, it would stop and some 

names were called to get off. When Dess and 

I were told to get off, the first thing we 

asked was, ‘What company is this?’ When 

told it was Company K, we both wished we 

could climb back on that truck and head for 

the rear echelon! Of course, in a very short 

time, we were so very proud to be part of 

Captain Bell’s Company K. . . .’’ 

Dad never forgot the men with whom he 

served, maintaining friendships for over six 

decades. He also never forgot the horrific 

things he saw when K Company was sent to 

the Dachau concentration camp shortly after 

it was liberated in April 1945. From the time 

I was just a kid, Dad told me stories about 

Dachau and how people in the nearby town 

would tell the soldiers that they hadn’t really known what the Nazis were doing. Dad 

could never quite comprehend that. 

On the day before the German surrender in 

Europe, Dad spent the night in a fox hole 

near Innsbruck, Austria. He heard rumors 

that the War was nearing an end. But still, 

Dad stayed awake all night in that fox hole, 

fearing that the enemy would attack. He remembered thinking that he saw German 

troops coming at him. When he compared 

notes with all his buddies later, they, too, 

had experienced the same thing. 

When the War did end that next day, they 

rode into Innsbruck, where people greeted 

him and the other soldiers with a shower of 

flowers. Meanwhile, Mother and Aunt Judy 

celebrated the German surrender by riding 

on a fire truck in an impromptu parade down 

the streets of Yellow Springs. Dad’s two 

younger siblings, my Aunt Mickey and Uncle 

Jerry, watched the parade with pride. 

Last week, I started reading my parents’ 

letters to each other when Dad was fighting 

in Europe. They are letters of great passion 

and love, written by two young kids, who 

were only married a year when the War separated them. They write of their plans and 

dreams and of the child they hoped to conceive as soon as Dad got home. Dad’s letter 

refers to that child as ‘‘Mike,’’ while Mother’s letter references Michael—a distinction 

they would each make throughout my life. 

Dad came home in April, in time for Reds 

Opening Day, and I was born on January 5th, 

that year. 

Dad taught me to fish, to hunt, and to love 

OSU football and Dayton Flyer basketball. 

But, his real passion was the Cincinnati 

Reds! 

When Dad was 16, he and one of his buddies 

camped out in line for 36 hours to get tickets 

for the 1939 World Series, when the Reds 

were playing the Yankees. They ended up in 

two different ticket lines, but had made a 

deal that whoever got up to the ticket 

counter before the tickets ran out would buy 

two. Dad was able to get two tickets, but 

then he couldn’t find his friend. It got close 

to game time, and Dad had to go inside the 

ballpark. 

When he was inside, though, he went up to 

the top deck at Crosley Field and searched 

again for his friend. He looked down below, 

outside the ballpark, and there was his 

buddy, walking away in tears, empty-handed. 

Dad reached into his pocket and pulled out 

the silver dollar that his father had given 

him and wrapped the other baseball ticket 

around it. Then, he threw it over the railing, 

hoping and praying that it would fall at the 

feet of his friend. 

Amazingly, it did—and they both watched 

that game together. 


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