May 5, 1995 CONGRESSIONAL RECORD — SENATE S6199

wear when we fish for these trout?’’ My

father said, ‘‘No, I think we need something more than that, something a little different.’’ Off they went to enjoy a

remarkable 2 days together.

My father loved John Stennis, and

when my father was the recipient of

the Milward L. Simpson Chair of Political Science at the University of Wyoming, John Stennis served as his honorary chairman, and said, ‘‘If there is

anything I can do for my friend,

Milward Simpson, I will do it.’’ So it

was a great affection and relationship,

a true friendship. Then when I, of

course, came to the Senate, John Stennis was the first to greet me. He said,

‘‘If there is anything I can do to help

you or smooth your path here, let me

do it.’’ And he did.

He was more than charitable, kind,

and attentive to me except, of course,

when I tried to kill off the Tennessee

Tombigbee Waterway. Then there was

a definite strain in our relationship—

momentary, fleeting. But he said,

‘‘ALAN, I cannot believe that you would

do that.’’ And he was right. I did not

believe I could, and did not. That great

waterway is a great tribute to personally the perseverance of John Stennis.

But what he told me—and I shall

never forget—he said ‘‘ALAN, I have

been watching you.’’ I had been here

maybe 4 years at the time. ‘‘I have seen

you work. I know how hard you work.’’

He really buoyed me up. He said, ‘‘You

want to remember something in the

Senate.’’ He said, ‘‘People come here,

and some grow and some swell.’’ I shall

never forget the phrase. ‘‘Some grow

and some swell.’’ Indeed, we know both

categories. I think I have done a little

of both. But when I did swell, I was put

down a peg or two, to get back to growing instead of swelling.

So I want to just pay tribute to John

Stennis, and I know my dear parents,

both gone, too, would have wanted me

to pay tribute to a very dear and lovely

friend, and to his memory, which will

certainly be present in this Chamber

for the remainder of time. He was deeply loved, a man of great stature, and

truly a wonderful gentleman, truly a

gentleman.

So God bless his son and his daughter

who survive him. They have a wonderful heritage.

Mr. SIMPSON. Mr. President, let me

SENATOR DAVID PRYOR

fjust say a word about my friend, DAVID

PRYOR.

DAVID PRYOR has determined that he

will now retire from the Senate, and we

came here together. We came here in

the class of 1978. There was a class of

20, the largest class ever to come into

the U.S. Senate at one time, 11 Republicans and 9 Democrats. We were very

close. Those of us who are still here are

still very close. In fact, in January of

this year, the remaining group of us

met together and had dinner together

with our spouses, and shared the attitude of how can we make the place

work a little better instead of just

chopping ourselves to pieces, as we

sometimes do. But that goes with the

territory. That is politics. It was always a little rough and tumble, and it

still will be, and ever shall be, world

without end.

But DAVID PRYOR and Barbara—and

there is a remarkable woman. She has

chosen to take a little of a secondary

role in the life of this wonderful man.

Let me tell you, she is in every sense

as much a part of DAVID’s success in

life and fiber as my own wife, Ann, is of

mine.

So DAVID and I came here, and I was

placed in the basement of the Russell

Building because it was thought that I

was No. 100. Well, the senior Senator

from Wyoming had resigned an hour

before the deadline of midnight of the

New Year. So I was not 100; I was No.

88, which was a significant leapfrog. We

have since changed that. We do not do

that anymore. But nevertheless, thinking I was No. 100, they placed me in the

basement of the Russell Building, with

bars on the windows, which were not

unfamiliar to me from some of my activities in youth. But, nevertheless, it

looked like the sewers of Paris down in

there.

But I was glad to have any kind of

opportunity to be here, thrilled as we

all are, and hope always will be, or we

shall get out. DAVID PRYOR, who I had

come to know in those early days,

came to visit me in my dungeon surroundings, the durance vile. He said,

‘‘This is quite an office you have here.’’

I said, ‘‘It is. But at least I am here.’’

He said, ‘‘You need something to

brighten it up.’’ I said, ‘‘Well, that

would be lovely. I think you are right.’’

So later in the afternoon he mailed to

me, hand carried by courier, a dead

plant with the leaves dangling in grotesque, yellowish brown fashion. He

said he thought that the plant matched

the surroundings of what I had there.

And then he later showed up personally

to assure himself that I had received

this beautiful plant to grace my new

surroundings.

Well, that is part of DAVID. He is a

wonderful friend, and he is a very serious man. He comes to this floor, and he

defends his friend, his principal friend,

who is a man named Bill Clinton,

President of the United States. I used

to come to this floor and defend my

friend, a man I had known for 35 years

named George Bush, President of the

United States. And DAVID and I have

often laughed at how it is when you are

a close friend of a President, because

when somebody is here tearing them

up, your staff says, ‘‘Get over there;

they are doing something bad,’’ and

you end up dropping what you do and

you come over to defend your friend. I

have done that with George Bush, and

I have seen DAVE do it with great loyalty for his friend Bill Clinton.

I have always admired him. I have

worked with him. There is not a finer,

more principled man, a man of remarkable honesty and directness, and a man

to whom I once said, ‘‘DAVID, did you

run for president of the first grade? Because I don’t think you have missed

any part of politics. I think you have

been in this since your birth.’’ When

you look at the public record that he

leaves behind as a legislator, as a member of the Arkansas Assembly, a Congressman, a Governor, a Senator, the

people of Arkansas love this man, and

he could have been here as long as he

wished. He has decided, however, to do

something many, many of us think

about more and more often, and that is

stepping away, not with irritation or

hostility or angst or anguish, just

knowing that there are other things to

do in life, stepping away just as a person such as Jack Danforth of Missouri—no regret, no recrimination, just

stepping away.

That is what DAVID has chosen to do,

and I just want to say that I wish him

well. And he will do well. He looks spirited and relieved and released, had a

snappy tan to his face, lilt to his step

the other day—he had gone golfing, a

shocking revelation.

And so to DAVID and to Barbara, special people of special depth, special

substance and sensitivity, and their

children, David, Jr., Mark, and Scott,

who are great friends of our daughter

Susan—they grew up together here in

Washington—to DAVID and Barbara

Pryor, with whom we have shared

much, spent time together, talked of

things much deeper than legislation, I

say Godspeed. I join in wishing them

well in a new chapter of their lives

which will be very, very fulfilling to

them, I am sure, knowing the type of

people they are.

I thank the Chair.

Mr. President, I suggest the absence

of a quorum.

The PRESIDING OFFICER. The

clerk will call the roll.

The legislative clerk proceeded to

call the roll.

Mr. DOLE. Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order for the

quorum call be rescinded.

The PRESIDING OFFICER (Mr.

COVERDELL). Without objection, it is so

ordered.

RECESS UNTIL 1:50 P.M.

fMr. DOLE. Mr. President, and my

colleagues who are not on the floor but

are probably in their offices, we are

waiting for an amendment to be drafted. It may be another 15 to 30 minutes.

Rather than have the Senate in session, I will move in a second that we

recess for 30 minutes.

It is our hope to have an amendment

prepared on which we will vote Monday, followed by a cloture vote on

Tuesday. We are trying to reach that

agreement, and right now they are in

the process of drafting the amendment.

I move that we stand in recess until

1:50.

The motion was agreed to.

Thereupon, the Senate, at 1:16 p.m.,

recessed until 1:51 p.m.; whereupon, the
S6200 CONGRESSIONAL RECORD — SENATE May 5, 1995

Senate reassembled when called to

order by the Presiding Officer (Mr.

COVERDELL).

The PRESIDING OFFICER. The

Chair, in his capacity as a Senator

from the State of Georgia, suggests the

absence of a quorum. The clerk will

call the roll.

The legislative clerk proceeded to

call the roll.

Mr. BYRD. Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order for the

quorum call be rescinded.

The PRESIDING OFFICER (Mr.

DEWINE). Without objection, it is so ordered.

MOVED BY TRIBUTE TO SENATOR

JOHN C. STENNIS

fMr. BYRD. Mr. President, recently I

received a letter from a Dr. Wayne M.

Miller of Killeen, Texas. The letter was

in reference to my recent eulogy for

the late and beloved Senator John

Cornelius Stennis.

Dr. Miller wrote that he was deeply

moved by the tribute, so much so that

he sat down and composed a poem after

hearing it. I call attention to the letter

and to the poem enclosed with it because it demonstrates not only the sensitivity and talent of the writer, but

also the power and the passion which

words can evoke.

In these days of often destructive,

rude, and even dangerous rhetoric, let

us stop and reflect on the tremendous

power of our words.

Such reflection may help those of us

in public life and in the media to strive

to use our voices to inspire rather than

to enflame.

Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that Dr. Wayne M. Miller’s letter

and poem be printed in the RECORD.

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

RECORD, as follows:

KILLEEN, TX,

April 27, 1995.

U.S. Senator ROBERT C. BYRD,

Hart Senate Office Building,

Washington, DC.

DEAR SENATOR BYRD, when I tuned in to a

C-Span telecast last night, I caught the latter part of your eloquent tribute to the late

Senator Stennis. It was truly one of the

greatest speeches I have ever heard. To be

sure, it had the two basic ingredients of a

great speech: substantive thinking, and rhetorical skills to effectively express it.

Although I am not a West Virginian, I have

admired your accomplishments and the stature of your leadership. I was reared just

eighty miles north of Wheeling, in a small

town of Harmony, Pennsylvania. After serving as chaplain in the Air Force, I became a

field director for American Red Cross—and

am now retired with that organization. For

the past sixteen years I have been teaching

composition and rhetoric at Central Texas

College.

Would it be possible to have a copy of your

outstanding speech? I would be ever so grateful!

I am so happy that we still have statesmen

of your caliber in our nation’s capital. I am

enclosing a poem which I wrote after listening to you on television. It reflects, in some

small measure, my responsiveness to your

deeply, moving words.

Respectfully,

WAYNE M. MILLER.

Enclosure.

To the Honorable Mr. Byrd, Distinguished U.S.

Senator from the State of West Virginia,

after hearing the stirring tribute delivered

on the floor of Congress for the late Senator

John Stennis of Mississippi (1901–1995):

Your well selected words, like highly polished marble

(Uniquely Mr. Byrd’s!)

Were fitted in a pyramid of architectural

marvel—

Arousing such a sentiment in the shaping of

your thoughts

Keen emotions were unharnessed from what

common birth allots

And, untouted, undergirds

The daily warp and woof of our fabric of existence.

You talked about our too brief pilgrimage,

And you pricked our unsuspecting Achilles

Heel

When you sharpened our awareness of fragility

That stamps the mold of our mortality—

And your sobering reflection of the little

bird

That fluttered through the crack from the

raging storm

Into the blinding light of the banquet hall,

And then, so very soon, fluttered out again—

Demonstrated our fitful wandering,

Our groping sightlessness, our straining

stammering,

Our hurried exit from the ever-blinding light

Of the babbling banquet hall and ‘‘much ado

about nothing.’’

You addressed so poignantly the human predicament

In the never ending journey ‘‘east of Eden’’—

Never ending, that is,

Until that special day of reckoning

When all our shattered dreams, our broken

vows . . .

Will have their consummation

In all-glorious transformation

From the ugly to the beautiful

And the painful to the joyful

Where there will be no night,

No parting and no sorrow.

You led us like thirsting sheep

To the oasis of our being—

The wells of spiritual refreshment

Where first we saw the mirroring of our impoverished selves

And then experienced the waters that revive

us

And show us the way of day.

You showed us what we are—

And what we can become

In the ‘‘long journey into night’’

While we suffer in our little rooms,

Waiting for the fateful end—

To be transposed by the Great Composer

From our dischords into harmonies,

Rejoicing with the Children of the Light.

WAYNE MEREDITH MILLER,

1995 Nominee for Poet of the Year.

Mr. BYRD. Mr. President, I suggest

the absence of a quorum.

The PRESIDING OFFICER. The

clerk will call the roll.

The legislative clerk proceeded to

call the roll.

Mr. DOLE. Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order for the

quorum call be rescinded.

The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without

objection, it is so ordered.

TRIBUTE TO NAOMI NOVER

Mr. DOLE. Mr. President, on April 22,

the Washington journalism community

lost one of its most enduring figures.

For decades, Naomi Nover was a distinctive presence on Capitol Hill and at

the White House, often claiming a

front-row seat at Presidential news

conferences. Known for her perseverance and her determination to continue her passion for journalism,

Naomi fell ill last month while renewing her Senate press credentials. It was

the first day for gallery members to

renew their press cards, and as usual,

Naomi was one of the first in line.

A native of Buffalo, NY, she and her

husband Barney moved to Washington

in 1936. After receiving a masters degree from George Washington University, she worked with her husband for

the Denver Post, wrote a column called

‘‘Washington Dateline,’’ produced a

radio program called ‘‘Views and Interviews,’’ and when Barney Nover retired

from the Denver Post in 1971, Naomi

cofounded the Nover News Bureau.

After her husband passed away in 1973,

Naomi established a journalism prize

in his memory, the Barnet Nover Memorial Award, given for journalistic

excellence at the annual White House

Correspondents Association dinner.

Naomi’s perseverance was legendary.

Sam Donaldson tells an admiring story

about the time Naomi was hit by a

truck while crossing Pennsylvania Avenue. ‘‘The vehicle was almost totalled,’’ Donaldson says. ‘‘She walked

away without a scratch.’’ President

Clinton called her ‘‘years of dedication

to her craft and her efforts to cover

events * * * a lesson to us all in hard

work and the persistence of the human

spirit.’’

Mr. President, I know all my colleagues join me in sending our warmest

condolences to Naomi’s friends and

family.

ORDER OF PROCEDURE

fMr. DOLE. Mr. President, I say for

the benefit of my colleagues and others

who would probably like to get out of

here, we are waiting for an amendment

to be drafted. It is almost complete.

Upon completion, it will be sent to the

desk. Then there will be a cloture petition filed, and we will be able to leave

for the day.

It should not be long. I am told 15 or

20 minutes.

THE STAKES IN LEGAL REFORM

fMr. DOLE. Mr. President, as we continue the legal reform debate, I think

it is important to take a few minutes

and focus on what is and is not at stake

here.

What is at stake is whether we are

going to continue with a legal system

that is too costly, too long, and too unfair. What is at stake is whether the