America lost someone, and something, precious today. We lost John McCain, and we lost the last vestige of honor and decency that ever walked the halls of Congress. I cannot say I knew him; in my 35 years of government service on the House and Senate Veterans Committees, in my short stay on the Senate Armed Services Committee, and during my 12 years at the Department of Veterans Affairs, my relationship with Senator McCain was never more than tangential. But his effect on my political outlook—my own pride in service—and my feeling at being a citizen of John McCain’s America, are due in great part to Senator McCain’s indefatigable sense of honor and duty not to a party, not to an institution, but to all Americans. Like his father and his grandfather, John McCain stood for, fought for, believed in, something greater than himself, and he reveled in his role as a citizen of the greatest democracy the world has ever known.
I will keep this entry short; there are not words adequate to convey the depths of my sorrow and sense of loss at John McCain’s passing. There will be eloquent tributes to Senator McCain’s life and duty, tributes offered by his friends and colleagues—President Obama and Mrs. Obama offered a fitting letter of praise and glory reflecting their sadness at our national loss, and other tributes from around the country and around the world are like a rising tide of gratitude and love that I hope fills some of the deep void now in the lives of the McCain family.
Let me just say two things: the first is that with John McCain’s passing, there is a national void that cannot be filled by mere tributes, thoughts and prayers. We stand on the crumbling edge of an existential precipice; behind us, forcing us toward the abyss of a Constitutional crisis, are characters of ill will, thuggish means, and failed values. They wish nothing more for us than to see our country take that final step into the depths of anarchy, leaving behind a morally barren and ethically sterile landscape on which they will build their cities of supremacy and their towers of gold. These were just the sort of men, means, and motives that John McCain, and his father and grandfather fought to defeat and extinguish.
If we are to give John McCain’s life any meaning beyond the hallowed ground of his final resting place at the Naval Academy, even beyond the bounds of our own lives, we must do the hard things the McCain’s did; we must turn away from the abyss and fight with everything the Constitution has given us to defy, deflate, and destroy the forces now seeking to burn America to the ground.
It is a sad day for democracy and free people everywhere. The man who, with his father and grandfather, fought against tyranny, injustice, and hatred, who suffered inhumane treatment yet refused to take an easy out, left us today as the most dignified man on the planet.
Fair winds and followings seas, John McCain. You lived a life of honor and respect. Thank you for your courage and sacrifice and for your selfless service to your country. We will do our level best to right the ship of state, and sail on to a safer, more bountiful harbor for all.
The second thing I want to offer is a poem, Sea Fever, written by John Masefield, also here, read by the poet.
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.
It is a sad day for democracy and free people everywhere. The man who, with his father and grandfather, fought against tyranny, injustice, and hatred, who suffered inhumane treatment yet refused to take an easy out, left us today as the most dignified man on the planet.
Fair winds and followings seas, John McCain. You lived a life of honor and respect. Thank you for your courage and sacrifice and for your selfless service to your country. We will do our level best to right the ship of state, and sail on to a safer, more bountiful harbor for all.
The second thing I want to offer is a poem, Sea Fever, written by John Masefield, also here, read by the poet.
Dedicated to John S. McCain
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.
No comments:
Post a Comment