Floor Statements

Mr. President, if you have ever had kids, you know how important it can be to encourage their education. But with many competing priorities, you sometimes need to use creative strategies to inspire success.

That is something that Holcombe Rucker did. Rucker was a Black World War II veteran and teacher in the 1940s in Harlem. He started a small outdoor basketball team for Black youth and encouraged his players to maintain good grades and decorum. Some say he is the father of outdoor organized basketball for youth and helped give thousands of kids better pathways to higher learning.

Holcombe Rucker grew up a poor parentless kid from 141st Street. He served in the Army during World War II before earning his bachelor's degree from City College. He then taught English at a Harlem junior high school, while also serving as a recreation director for both the St. Phillip's Church Community Center and the city parks department.

When Rucker formed his youth basketball tournament in the late 1940s, however, he didn't get much support from city recreational leaders. So he often paid out of his own shallow pockets to provide refreshments and T-shirts and other essentials for players. Rucker would even share his lunch with his students, often coming home to his wife with an empty stomach.

Rucker believed education and supervised recreation could make an enormous difference in the lives of his students. It is no surprise then why many of his players saw him as a father figure and credited him with helping to set them on a better path.

As Rucker's summer tournaments grew in popularity, parks department officials finally moved them to a more desirable location. That would ultimately become the Holcombe Rucker Park. The court attracted the city's most talented young basketball players, including future professional basketball stars like Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Wilt Chamberlain, and Julius ``Dr. J'' Erving.

I want to thank Congressman Espaillat for championing this bill, and I am proud to lead the effort in the Senate to designate this park, which is located on 155th Street, on the banks of the Harlem River, as the ``Holcombe Rucker Park National Commemorative Site.''

This bill would allow for an educational exhibit, a plaque or another marker to be installed that would help memorialize the legacy of Mr. Rucker for generations to come.

I want to thank Senator Rubio for his assistance.

Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the Committee on Energy and Natural Resources be discharged from further consideration of H.R. 6852 and the Senate proceed to an en bloc consideration of the following bills: H.R. 8012, which was received from the House and is at the desk; and H.R. 6852.

I ask unanimous consent that the bills be considered read a third time and passed and the motions to reconsider be considered made and laid upon the table, all en bloc.

I yield the floor.

I suggest the absence of a quorum.

Mr. President, during World War II, Fort Ontario was the only U.S. refugee shelter for people fleeing the Holocaust. Let me say it again. Fort Ontario was the only U.S. refugee shelter for people fleeing the Holocaust. It gave them a safe haven. It gave them strength. It gave them hope that when they needed it the very most, we were there. And it was one of the first places where American residents would ever hear firsthand accounts about what happened during the Holocaust.

In fact, there are still residents in this and other communities today who remember the experiences of living in or outside of Fort Ontario at a time when nearly 1,000 Holocaust refugees were living there and receiving medical care, food, and education.

Located along Lake Ontario in Oswego, NY, the Fort Ontario Holocaust Refugee Center was supposed to be the first of many temporary relief camps across the United States during World War II, but it was the only one that came to fruition.

For years, I have been working with the local community members to honor and preserve it. I have visited them. I have heard their stories. I have learned about the importance of the Fort Ontario Holocaust Refugee Shelter to them and their families and the larger community.

This site has long played an extraordinary role in our Nation's history, and its story deserves to be part of the National Park System. Establishing the Fort Ontario Holocaust Refugee Shelter National Historic Park would give this site permanent protection, and it would help to make sure it is preserved and enshrined in the site's legacy of hope, compassion, and resilience for future generations.

I want to thank Congresswoman Tenney and former Congressman Katko for helping lead this effort. And I also want to thank Senator Hawley for his partnership and the Senate for passing this bill.

I suggest the absence of a quorum.

Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order for the quorum call be rescinded.

Mr. President, notwithstanding rule XXII, I ask unanimous consent that the Senate proceed to the immediate consideration of the following bills en bloc: Calendar No. 630, S. 4607; Calendar No. 589, S. 2742.

I ask unanimous consent that the committee-reported substitute amendments, where applicable, be agreed to; the bills, as amended, if amended, be considered read a third time and passed; and that the motions to reconsider be considered made and laid upon the table, all en bloc.

I yield the floor.

I suggest the absence of a quorum.

Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order for the quorum call be rescinded.

Mr. President, I also want to recognize the Reverend Adolphus C. Lacey for not only offering that beautiful prayer but for his extraordinary leadership and advocacy in Brooklyn, NY, and beyond.

He is the senior pastor at Bethany Baptist Church in Brooklyn. He is a pastor, theologian, and activist who has served as the spiritual adviser to the New York Justice League. He is also a member of the East Brooklyn Congregations in the National Action Network and also a member of the Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc.

He is an extraordinary public servant who has dedicated himself to lifting up other communities, to lifting up his community, to lifting up those who need a voice. And I am so grateful for his shining presence, for the light he is bringing to this community, as he brings to all of New York.

I yield the floor.

Mr. President, I want to thank my colleague for his kindness in letting me go ahead.

Mr. President, as Israel's war with Hamas drags into another month, I know it can feel hopeless to know that with every passing day, the chances that we will get these hostages home safely are dwindling.

But above all, we must not abandon them. We must not abandon hope. We must tell their stories and do everything we can to bring them home.

I recently met a woman, Yarden. Her little sister, Romi, is a hostage. She said that early on the morning of October 7, she woke up to the sound of her sister's phone call. At first, Yardan was confused. She knew her sister was supposed to be having the time of her life at the Nova music festival. Instead, Romi was calling her, scared to death. She said a lot of missiles were being fired, but there was no shelter at the open-air festival.

Romi and her best friend Gaya tried to drive away, but they got stuck in a traffic jam. Suddenly, they saw people shouting and running: Get out of the car. There are terrorists. Run for your lives.

They hid in a bush as gunshots sounded. Over the phone, Yarden asked Romi if there were police anywhere around her. ``Yes,'' Romi whispered. ``There is one policeman''--just one policeman facing a multitude of terrorists.

Another friend, Ben, came to rescue the girls with his car, and the group began to drive away, picking up another man, Ofir. For 10 minutes, the group thought they would be safe, but then Romi called her mother. She said: Mom? We were ambushed. They are shooting at us. Ben is most likely dead. Gaya was shot, and she is not responding. Ofir is wounded badly. I was shot in my arm. If no one comes quickly, I will be dead.

Romi was on the phone with her mother and sister for 4\1/2\ hours that day, including at the moment she was captured.

Her family says that she has asthma and chronic sinusitis, and they worry that she could be struggling to breathe without her inhaler. They worry that her gunshot wound is not being properly treated. And they are worried that she doesn't have food, fresh water or fresh air.

Romi's sister Yarden says she gets nauseated when she thinks about her sister. She gets nauseated when she uses the bathroom or takes a shower because she doesn't know whether her sister can do that safely. She misses Romi desperately and describes her as a magnificent young woman.

A natural leader and advocate for justice, Romi loves dancing and traveling and hanging out with her friends. Her family says that everyone who meets her falls in love with her immediately; that she is her family's private sunshine and the glue that holds them together.

Romi, like all the people still in Hamas captivity, deserves to live her life to the fullest. She deserves to have her story told. And so we have to keep telling it--and never abandon hope--for her, her family, or for the thousands of other lives who have been affected by this horrific, horrific crisis.

I yield the floor.

Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order for the quorum call be rescinded.

Mr. President, this is my 10th floor speech since the October 7 attack. Ten times I have stood here and told the hostages' stories. Ten times I have expressed their families' endless pain. But for every minute that I have stood here, the hostages and their families have lived lifetimes, an eternity in each moment.

I have met so many families whose entire universe has been paralyzed. I have met mothers who are despondent, fathers who are desperate. They are living between hope and despair. They are asking themselves: Is my father alive? Is my daughter being raped every day? Is my husband being mistreated? Is my sister being fed?

I recently met a family who says several of their loved ones were kidnapped by Hamas. Two escaped, and one was released, but one, 39- year-old Carmel Gat, is still being held captive.

She is an occupational therapist by training. Carmel had recently returned from a 3-month trip to India and was staying with her parents in Kibbutz Be'eri.

On the morning of October 7, terrorists broke into her home. They took her mother to a street corner in the kibbutz and brutally murdered her. A few minutes later, they put Carmel into a car and drove her by that corner. That is how she learned her mother was killed.

Released hostages who were with her told Carmel's family about the cruelty and the viciousness of the guards, but they also told them how brave Carmel was, defending and caring for the children being held in captivity, keeping them safe, teaching them how to turn within themselves, to meditate, to do yoga, to breathe, to give them some tools just to survive.

Carmel was expected to be released on the eighth day of the November cease-fire, but just a few hours before it was her time to come home, the deal collapsed. Her family said they still haven't heard anything about her condition--whether she is alive, whether she is suffering, whether she will come home.

Carmel is just one of the roughly 130 people still being held hostage by Hamas, including as many as 6 Americans. But she, like every other person whose life has been torn apart by this conflict, is not a statistic. She is a daughter. She is loved. Our hearts are with her, and we will not rest until she is home.

I yield the floor.

Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order for the quorum call be rescinded.

Mr. President, it has now been more than 100 days since scores of innocent people were kidnapped by Hamas. More than 2,500 hours of fear, starvation, and torture; of parents, grandparents, teenagers, children suffering some of the most unimaginable horrors and wondering if they will ever see their loved ones again.

This is my ninth time coming to the Senate floor to tell their stories, to express their pain. But for every day that I have come here, for every hour, for every minute the hostages and their families have lived eternities.

Last week, I met the mother of a woman, a 19-year-old daughter named Daniela. She was kidnapped from the Nahal Oz. She showed me the before and after pictures of her daughter.

On the morning of October 7, Daniela's mother woke up to the sound of sirens. She texted her daughter to ask her what was happening. Daniela responded ``Mom, pray for me'' and explained that there was ``lots of shooting everywhere and bombs.''

The last anyone heard from her was 7:45 a.m.

Daniela's mother says her daughter was injured in the leg and taken into Gaza, after she saw 16 of her friends slaughtered. She was wearing pale pink Mickey Mouse pajama bottoms and can be seen in a Hamas video with three other girls. Their hands are tied behind their backs; their clothing and faces smeared with blood and tears; sheer terror in their eyes.

The same Hamas video also shows Liri Albag, another teenage hostage whose parents I met in Israel. Like Daniela, Liri was abducted from Nahal Oz. She is among the youngest female hostages remaining in Gaza.

The last her family heard from her was 6:30 in the morning on October 7. Liri's mother thought her daughter had ended up in one of the hospitals but soon learned from a Hamas video that she was among those kidnapped. Liri's father says that for the families of these hostages, the uncertainty and fear are killing them. Her mother says she cannot breathe because she does not know if her daughter is breathing.

Daniela, Liri, and three other teenaged girls--19-year-old Karina Ariev, 19-year-old Agam Berger, and 19-year-old Naama Levy--were last seen by several abductees who have since been released. One woman said some of the girls were badly injured but weren't receiving proper medical care. She said that when the girls were sad or crying, their captors would sexually abuse them. She relayed their accounts of sexual abuse at gunpoint on a regular basis. She said the girls told her they could cope with their disabilities but not with the way they were constantly violated.

One of the earliest images that we saw during the October 7 attack was of Naama Levy being dragged by her hair, her hands tied behind her back, thrown into a truck, blood streaming down her face, streaming down her arms, streaming down her back, her sweatpants covered in blood. No one deserves this kind of torture. No one should have to endure such unimaginable abuse--not for 1 day, not for 100 days, not ever.

According to her loved ones, Daniela is a girl who spreads light wherever she goes. She is a talented musician who writes songs, plays the piano, and dreams of becoming a famous singer. Her mom says she pictures Daniela walking through the door and coming home. She implores parents worldwide to imagine their own children in such peril.

Liri is an optimist who puts others before herself. She has lots of friends and loves to travel, to take pictures of her trips, and sing. Her family says she is such a strong girl who enjoys exploring life but that every minute is like an hour without her.

Nineteen-year-old Karina Ariev is a gentle and humble girl. Her loved ones say she often has a wide smile and is always ready to help and support those around her.

Nineteen-year-old Agam Berger--

Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent for 60 more seconds to finish my remarks.

Mr. President, 19-year-old Karina Ariev is a gentle and humble girl. Her loved ones say she often has a wide smile and is always ready to help those around her.

Nineteen-year-old Agam Berger is a gifted violinist who volunteers to help disadvantaged populations. Like Karina, she also enjoys helping others and is an optimist who is always smiling.

Naama Levy is a soft-spoken, athletic, and determined girl. She is compassionate and understanding, with a passion for helping those in need.

As a mom, I cannot fathom the anguish these parents are facing. I know every other Senator here cannot fathom the anguish they are facing. All of us must do everything we can to bring them home.

I yield the floor.

Madam President, I ask unanimous consent to display photos of Gad Haggai and Judih Weinstein.

Madam President, as people around the world gathered last week to ring in the new year, it was a heartbreaking moment for families of the remaining Israeli hostages, whose loved ones have been forced to begin a new year in Hamas captivity.

Over the past month, I was devastated to learn that two of the hostages whom I have spoken about have since died. Israeli-American Judih Weinstein and Gad, her husband, both died from injuries they sustained on October 7. Their bodies are still being held in Gaza.

Gad was a retired chef, a jazz musician, and a gifted flautist. A father of four and a grandfather of seven, he was a man full of humor who knew how to make other people laugh.

Gad's wife Judih was a person of peace. A New York native, she loved making puppets and teaching English to children with special needs. She was a wellness expert who used meditation and mindfulness techniques to help those traumatized by years of rocket fire. She was also a pacifist who advocated for Palestinian rights. In one of the poems she wrote and shared on social media, Judih described herself as a ``lone pilgrim, enveloped by ancestors''--listening to a ``flute's homage beckoning [her] on.''

The deaths of Judih and Gad are a sad conclusion to a long and horrifying saga. It is also a disturbing reminder of the perils faced by other hostages.

I recently returned from a congressional delegation trip to Israel, Saudi Arabia, and Jordan, and I can tell you that the suffering and the grief the Jewish people and innocent Palestinian people have faced daily are truly devastating. The collective anguish, fear, and horror is palpable.

The path to peace--with all hostages being returned, the rebuilding of a Palestinian state without Hamas, and with the support and investment of the Arab and Muslim world--is now more urgent than ever.

When meeting the families of the hostages, the urgency and anguish in their eyes was devastating. To know that your loved one could be suffering unspeakable horrors and that they may be on the edge of death and feel powerless to stop it is a pain that no family member should ever be forced to bear. They have spent every living day and moment since October 7 fighting to get their loved ones home. This nightmare must end now.

One of the families I met with told me about their loved one, Doron. A 30-year-old veterinary nurse, she hid under the bed in her apartment as Hamas terrorists rampaged her kibbutz. The last her family heard from her was from a voice message in which she said:

They've arrived, they have me.

Doron has a stomach condition, and her family worries her health will deteriorate without her daily medication. They worry about rape and sexual violence and sexual torture. They worry she will not survive the horrors of her captivity.

I also met again with the families of Itay Chen and Omer Neutra--two New Yorkers who are being held hostage by Hamas.

Itay is a 19-year-old boy who was born in New York City and is now serving with the IDF. He was supposed to return home to his family shortly after October 7 to celebrate his brother's bar mitzvah.

Omer Neutra is also a New Yorker, the grandson of Holocaust survivors, and an avid athlete. He loves the New York Knicks. He deferred his acceptance to Binghamton University to spend a gap year in Israel before he joined the IDF. On the day of the attack, he was working as a tank commander while defending the Gaza border. He was last seen on a video as being forcibly removed at the hands of Hamas terrorists.

In addition to these two New Yorkers, I also met with the family of another American hostage, Hersh Goldberg-Polin. He had his lower arm blown off by a hand grenade. His mother says his injuries could easily have resulted in his bleeding to death and wonders: Is he alive? Is he suffering? Does he ever have a chance of coming home?

These are just a few of the roughly 130 people still being held hostage by Hamas, including 8 Americans. With every day that goes by, the danger to them only grows. I hope that in this new year we can secure their safe return, their release, and their coming home to their families before it is too late.

I suggest the absence of a quorum.

Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the following Senators be permitted to speak prior to the scheduled recess for 5 minutes: Senator Murray for 5 minutes, Senator Collins for 5 minutes, and me for 5 minutes.

Mr. President, it has now been over 70 days--70 days--since hundreds of people were kidnapped by Hamas. In that time, more than 100 have been released, including 4 Americans, but 8 Americans remain in captivity. And from what we have heard from those who have been released and rescued, it is likely they are enduring unimaginable suffering.

One of the released Americans, 4-year-old Abigail Mor Edan, was kept with four other hostages in above-ground apartments. She shared-- shared--one piece of pita bread per day with four others and did not have a shower in the entire 50 days in captivity. Her hair was cut because it was filled with lice.

We have heard from others that they were kept in complete darkness for days. Some became psychotic and experienced hallucinations. A child was given ketamine for weeks, while others were given sedatives like Valium. We have heard reports of self-harm among the hostages, while some who have returned have suicidal ideations.

Many were subjected to psychological torture. A 12-year-old boy was forced to watch videos of the October 7 attack and threatened with a gun when he cried. I have seen those videos. You cannot unsee them once you have seen them. I cannot imagine the nightmares that will plague that boy for the rest of his life.

One man was told his wife was dead when she actually was alive. Others were convinced Israel no longer existed. A doctor who was treating hostages says that they were told that ``nobody cares about you. You are here alone. You hear the bombs falling? They don't care about you. We're [the ones] here to protect you.''

Most children lost between 10 to 15 percent of their body weight. These kids were starved. They had skin rashes and infections from being held in unsanitary conditions. Other children were branded--literally branded--with a motorcycle exhaust pipe to help identify them if they escaped.

Many came back speaking only in a whisper because they were warned not to make any noises in captivity. Many hostages were deprived of medicine and proper medical care. One woman who was shot in the hand says a veterinarian performed surgery on her. Others were beaten with electric cables.

Now, as the fighting in Gaza intensifies, the lives of hostages remain in jeopardy. I can't imagine what it must be like to live on only a piece of a pita a day for months. I can't imagine what it would be like to endure constant physical, psychological, and emotional torture for 70 days.

We know that at least one American hostage, Hersh Goldberg-Polin, had his lower arm blown off by a hand grenade. His mother says his injury could have easily resulted in him bleeding to death.

The treatment of these hostages are crimes against humanity. They are war crimes. And for those who remain in captivity, we are running out of time. We cannot give up hope. We cannot abandon them. We must go to the ends of the Earth to bring them back. These are American hostages, hostages from our ally Israel. We cannot stand quiet while they suffer.

I yield the floor.

Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent to display photos of Ranae Butler's family.

Mr. President, as Jewish families across the country celebrate the last night of Hanukkah tomorrow, too many of their loved ones will not be there to join them. Dozens of American citizens were murdered by Hamas during the brutal October 7 massacre, and several remain hostages in Gaza.

It is critical that we continue to tell their stories.

I recently met with Ranae Butler, who lost six family members, including at least five U.S. citizens on October 7. She told me how her mother, Carol Siman Tov, and her mother's dog Charlie were both shot in the head execution-style.

Ranae's brother, Johnny Siman Tov, began texting with his sister when the attack began. As the terrorists set fire to the family's house, Johnny's final message read:

They're here. They're burning us. We're suffocating.

Johnny and his wife Tamar were both shot through the window of their safe room. Their three young children--Arbel, Shachar, and Omer--were all killed. They were found with black foam in their mouths.

I have also worked with the family of 70-year-old Judih Weinstein and her husband, Gad Haggai. On October 7, the couple were walking in their kibbutz when the terrorists attacked. The family says they know both of them were shot, and that their phones were geolocated in Gaza. Based on a subsequent video of Gad's body, they worry he was killed. But as his death has not yet announced in Israel, they are still holding out hope that he might be alive.

Judih is believed to be the last older woman still held hostage by Hamas, but her family has heard nothing about her whereabouts ever since she disappeared. They don't know if she is alive or dead. They don't know what became of Gad. They don't know if they are suffering or if they will ever see them again.

The uncertainty is agonizing and nearly impossible to bear, but it is a feeling that is shared by many American families whose loved ones are still hostages.

They include: Omer Neutra, a 22-year-old from Long Island; Itay Chen, a 19-year-old who was born in New York City; Edan Alexander, a 19-year- old from New Jersey; Sagui Dekel-Chen, a 35-year-old father and son to a former Brooklyn resident; Hersh Goldberg-Polin, a 23-year-old who was born in Berkeley, CA; Keith Siegel, a 64-year-old North Carolina native.

All of these people are American citizens. They were born in our communities, educated in our schools. They are teens, parents, and grandparents; husbands, sons, and mothers.

We owe it to our families--we owe it to all their families--to never give up hope. We must do everything we can do to bring them home.

I yield the floor.

I suggest the absence of a quorum.

Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent to show framed photos of two individuals I would like to speak about today.

Mr. President, as fighting has resumed in Israel and in Gaza, I met with three families whose loved ones became victims of Hamas. One was the sister of Tamar Gutman, a beautiful 27-year-old Israeli woman who disappeared on October 7. Tamar had been attending the Supernova music festival when the terrorists attacked.

Tamar's sister was in touch with her during the morning of the attack as Tamar and her friends tried desperately to hide from the attackers. But Tamar suddenly stopped responding to texts.

Her family presumed she had been abducted and held out hope that she might still be alive. But 27 days after the attack, they finally got footage that indicated that she had been killed.

Tamar's sister told me that as horrible as it was to see the image of her sister's dead body, it was a relief to see that her jeans were still on her body.

But later, when the family recovered or tried to recover Tamar's body to give her a proper burial, they only found a few bones from her thigh and her chest. Her body had been horrifically dismembered, mutilated, and burned.

I also met with friends of Ofir Tzarfati's, who was attending the

Supernova music festival as well. He, his girlfriend Shoval, and his friends were there to celebrate his 27th birthday. When rockets began to fall, the friends all got in their cars and began driving toward the exit, but there was a huge traffic jam. Suddenly, hundreds of people started running to the other side of the cars, yelling: ``Terrorists! There are terrorists here! They shot a woman in the head!''

Ofir grabbed his girlfriend Shoval's hand, and they started running. People were freezing in fear and falling from gunfire around them. The couple and a friend hid for 4 hours behind a tree trunk. Shoval and others who had escaped say that Ofir was a hero, that he managed the whole situation to protect them, telling them when to run, when to crouch, when to hide. They saw his bravery, and they followed him.

When an Israeli driver came to offer help, Ofir helped his girlfriend and her friend into the car. But there were already eight people inside that car, and there was no room for him, so Ofir told them to go without him, and he got into another car. Shoval wanted to get in Ofir's car, but the driver already hit the gas and drove off. She called him on the way to tell him where to meet her, but he never made it.

Later, Ofir's loved ones learned that his car was attacked and that he was badly injured, but they held out hope that he was still alive and were told he had been taken captive. Sadly, on November 29, Ofir's family learned that his body had been found in Gaza.

These are just two among the hundreds of innocent people who fell victim to Hamas. But despite the profound grief and despair their families are experiencing, they are dedicating themselves to advocating for the innocent hostages still in captivity.

Last week, I also met with Merav Raviv, whose uncle, Avraham, and aunt, Ruti Munder, were kidnapped together with their daughter, Keren Munder, and her son, Ohad. Ruti, Keren, and Ohad were released, but Avraham is still being held by Hamas. He will turn 79 tomorrow. He is in very poor health, and he needs medication and care. His family said that a kind Israeli woman who was trained to be a nurse was trying to care for him in captivity, but since she has been released, they are very, very worried that he will not survive.

We know what Hamas thinks about the sanctity of human life by what they did to Tamar and Ofir. Every day that the hostages remain in captivity is another day that their lives are at risk.

It is time to bring every hostage home and reunite them with their families. It is the least that we can do to honor the memories of those who have been lost, those who have been killed, those whose bodies have been desecrated, and those who are in deep, deep sorrow.

I yield the floor.