Godspeed And Farewell
Mr. Speaker, it had been my intention to do a farewell address on the House floor on Thursday. In fact, I had reserved half an hour of floor time and had intended to not only offer a farewell but to talk one last time about the dangers…
Mr. Speaker, it had been my intention to do a farewell address on the House floor on Thursday. In fact, I had reserved half an hour of floor time and had intended to not only offer a farewell but to talk one last time about the dangers headed to our economy and country, based on the build-up of our national debt and the economic bubble this has brought about. As it turned out, the day got turned upside down, and so as a consequence, I include in the Record the following.
I would have simply risen to say thank you; as it stands, I
write to say thank you.
As a boy, our family would watch the movie ``It's a
Wonderful Life'' each Christmas. It was one of our
traditions, and it's a telling tale of life's real blessings
and the importance of remembering them. It's in that spirit
that I recognize how blessed I have been to have been an
active participant in federal and state political debates
over the last quarter of a century.
It was Teddy Roosevelt who spoke much of the man in the
arena, but what's often times forgotten about those who apply
his speech to politics is the people who put folks in the
arena. And that's where my thanks begin. I ran for Congress
for the first time back in 1994 not really having much of a
clue on the political process but certainly being concerned,
revolted by, and impassioned on the dangers of our federal
debt--and what it could do to our economy and our republic. I
held flip charts in front of Rotary Club gatherings and
walked through rather mind-numbing sets of numbers in
explaining the dangers of our debt. I talked about the fall
of the Byzantine Empire. I talked about the debt-load in
Spain in the sixteen hundreds. I talked about a lot of rather
narrow details, and I look back now at those talks and
cringe. Those who sat in the back row must have thought to
themselves, ``I have no idea what he is talking about, but he
sure is passionate about it--and based on that I'll give him
the benefit of my vote.''
This was the beginning of 25 years of kindness, generosity,
understanding, and more that me, Jenny, and the boys were the
recipients of over the years. I don't know how
to best express my deep appreciation to the people of the 1st
District, and to the people of the State of South Carolina,
for the trust they placed in me and the grace they offered me
and the family. It's well-known that on same days I exceeded
their expectations on duties performed. It is equally well-
known that on other days I fell short. But having seen both
the highs and the lows of politics, and in falling at both
ends of the ``expectation-fulfillment-spectrum,'' I can say
with certainty that I have been blessed to serve a most
grace-filled lot. For that, I am indeed Jimmy Stewart's
character in ``It's a Wonderful Life''--a person only now
beginning to recognize the ways in which I have been blessed
over the years, and for this, I am most thankful.
In short, public trust represents an awesome and sacred
responsibility. It's one that I took most seriously, and
regardless of the days when I got it right or wrong, I have
earnestly tried to do my best. That meant representing the
views, hopes, and dreams of folks at home as I carried their
views to both Columbia and Washington. It also meant keeping
my word on the things I promised in running, and it is for
this reason I think my voting record stands out as it does.
On both counts, I will remain forever grateful for the honor
of the chance to be in the arena.
Politics is made special not only by the ideas that mark
its debates but by the people who give their different
vantage points on those ideas and debates. Over these years,
I have learned a lot from the many that I talked to . . .
whether across the state or on the coast of South Carolina. I
don't even know where to begin in thanking people along the
journey. Linda Riney over in Berkeley County has always made
me laugh with her dry humor. People like Bill and Barbara
Bates, Ray Nash, Joan Peters, or Peggy Bangle have been
remarkable for the ways in which they have helped me remember
that iron sharpens iron. There were another thousand like
them who would gently but clearly express their conviction.
Their voices helped me to better understand my own thinking
on a subject, and I will miss their wisdom. Other friends
like Jerry Scheer, Mark Cumins, or Chad Walldorf were never
particularly loud about their political views, but they were
unbelievably consistent in their friendship. There were also
another thousand just like them, and they were vital to my
surviving the scrapes and bruises that go with political
life. They are friends for life and I look forward to seeing
more of them now that I will be able to spend more time at
home.
Sustaining this thought of the ways in which no one does
anything of significance alone, I also want to single out my
family. Political life was never a spectator sport for any of
them. I begin first with my former wife, Jenny. The wear and
tear of political life certainly took its toll on our
marriage, but in fairness, I never could have begun my time
in politics without her. Along with being a spectacular mom
to our boys and juggling a whole host of other balls that we
kept up in the air given our busy life together, she was a
great campaign manager. When I first ran for Congress, we ran
a phone line into the kitchen to begin the campaign because
she was trapped there most of the time with two babies. She
put in long hours and made a vital difference in my ability
to pursue political life.
And what worked in one campaign applied to the next
campaign. And the next one after that. And three more after
that. And three more after that. When we moved from
congressional campaigns to state-wide gubernatorial
campaigns, all the experts said that there was no way you can
have your wife managing campaigns of that scale. But we
figured ``if it's not broke, don't fix it'' and moved ahead
with our most unconventional campaign format. Again, there
was wear and tear on the personal front with those many
campaign battles, but she did her part and did it ably and I
want to circle back to publicly thank her again for all of
her time and energy devoted to my time in politics.
The same applies to our sons. They grew up in a very
strange way. When I was first elected governor, I remember
Jenny and I telling the boys of the details of dad's new work
requirements and the move to Columbia. Marshall, our oldest,
was curious and couldn't figure out how early he and his
brothers would have to get up every morning to be able to
make it to school on time in Columbia from Charleston. They
grew up so rooted in the Lowcountry that they couldn't
imagine moving away. Yet they did that and a whole lot more
at a very pivotal point in their lives.
They grew up thinking it was normal to get in the back of a
Suburban every weekend and to go off to a different parade,
festival, or social event across the state. They would come
back each week to live in what Jenny light-heartedly called
``a gated community of one.'' There were certainly privileges
that came with living in the governor's mansion, but there
was also isolation, given you didn't have neighbourhood kids
down the street just dropping by. There were armed guards out
front at the end of the driveway. They had to deal with being
viewed as the ``governor's sons'' as opposed to simply the
great young men that they were as Marshall, Landon, Bolton,
and Blake. They grew up standing in receiving lines with mom
and dad before thousands; they grew up greeting each new crop
of guests to the governor's mansion before they could go up
and do their homework.
The list is endless, but the point here is simple. No one
gets anywhere alone in their lives. It takes collective
effort, and it was as a consequence of not only friends and
political allies that got me to where I am in life--but the
work of my former wife and my sons on the journey.
Let me quickly mention three last thank you's that are
important to me as I close this chapter of life.
One, over the years I have been blessed with an incredible
array of talent that came through staff and team positions in
the governorship. Let me begin with Marie Dupree. We have
worked together for about 30 years. She has been a remarkable
help and steady hand over my different offices and
professional pursuits. It is funny how time flies by with
some people, as over the years, I've watched her and Scott
raise children and now come to be called grandparents. But as
she did all that goes with life, she also was an
incredibly steady hand in helping me organize my life, and
for that, I am most grateful.
The same would apply to people like April Derr who has
worked with me for about 25 years. She, like Marie, was never
political in focus but just cared about politics as a means
toward helping other people. They have both done it very well
and need to be singled out in this regard.
There is an equally long list of folks who have been with
me for chapters of my life in politics, but people with whom
I could not have done what I did without their help, care,
and focus. Scott English and I argued over policy and ideas
for about 20 years. That's a frightening prospect, but we
both love policy and would delve into the details of all
sorts of ideas. Tom Davis is now a state senator, but we went
to college together and he really got his start in politics
in a place called Jurassic Park. In my first run for
governor, we had a slew of people staying at the house. There
was a fraternity-like element to the strangeness of random
people coming up into the kitchen in the morning who may have
arrived the day before or a month before as they took up
residence to help with the campaign. The anchor of that
effort was Tom Davis, who slept downstairs in the boys'
bedroom that had been converted to a dormitory of sorts. It
was filled with bunk beds ladened with the boys' old
dinosaur-covered sheets, pillowcases, and comforters . . .
and accordingly named ``Jurassic Park.''
Martha Morris was another one of those early volunteers
that you never forget. When I began my improbable race to
return to the House in 2013, it began with me, Martha, and
Jon Kohan. It certainly grew from there, but you never forget
the people who were there with you when you are down and who
are there to enthusiastically kick off a new enterprise in
life, however improbable its outcome. Jon certainly fits this
bill as well, and I miss longtime friends like Martha and Jon
today.
I better stop with the naming of names because it is a list
of hundreds over the years, and my mind is right now jumping
back to the great work of people like Catherine Kellahan and
Mary Neil Stroud or Jessica Gonzales and Brent Gibadlo. It is
crazy how many competent professionals I was blessed to work
with over my years in politics.
Speaking of which, I have to mention just two more: Bob
Faith and Joe Taylor. The people of South Carolina are the
beneficiaries of their remarkable work as successive
Secretaries of Commerce. I would argue that they were the two
best Secretaries of Commerce in South Carolina history, given
the businesses that they helped grow and the others that they
brought to our state. This was in the headwind of the largest
economic downturn since the Great Depression, and when you
look at the numbers behind their efforts, they really do
stand out as extraordinary. I know for instance that Boeing,
and the thousands of jobs that have come with it, would not
be in South Carolina were it not for their collective
efforts.
It's also a reminder of how from tiny acorns, mighty oaks
grow. It feels like yesterday that Bob walked in to my office
with an article he had found in Fortune magazine about the
new use of composites in commercial aircraft. It was hardly
yesterday and there is much water under the bridge over the
years that have followed, but I am most appreciative of all
their work.
This is dangerous because each new idea that jumps into my
head connects to yet another one. On this subject of cabinet
members, I had a great conversation just a few weeks ago with
Jim Schweitzer. He had been my Director of Public Safety when
I was governor until I had to fire him as a consequence of
bad actions by a highway patrol officer. It had been most
unpleasant, as there is no way to put a red ribbon on these
kinds of actions--but I had felt I really didn't have a
choice, given my belief in the military model of holding
people at the top of the conmmand structure responsible for
actions taken within the unit. The long story short here is
that I am thankful to people like Jim as well. He, and others
like him, served ably for their chapter of service--and it
was so nice to catch up and talk about the days gone by--and
even tough moments in them.
The point in all of this is that time is a great healer and
brings with it a level of humility in one's actions and
attempts at service. We all do as best we can. Some days are
glorious, others not . . . but it is the melding of all of
them that temper us and give us wisdom as the years roll by.
I am most thankful for the different people that God has
placed in my life and for the wisdom and
perspective that I have gained in our interactions.
Two, I am thankful to my God above. Over the years, I have
grown to hold tightly to what's talked about in Romans 8:28.
It says that God works not some, but all things, toward a
bigger plan. That's a notion that we will all question at
different points in our lives, but I am thankful for a God
that knows how many hairs there are on my head and whether or
not a sparrow falls to the ground. I respect friends who are
reticent about the notion of God and faith but couldn't live
my life without that belief that things are moving toward a
divine end regardless of the daily ups and downs.
Accordingly, I should thank not only the people who have been
brought in to my life over politics but as well the people
who helped raise and define me as a boy. Mom was ever-giving,
creative, loved people, and always there; Dad never gave up.
His big life lesson was on pushing through the inevitable
obstacles that would come in life, and I am most thankful for
all they did that helped wire me for the politics I have seen
over the last 25 years.
Three, and finally, I ask you to remember the power of
ideas--and how they can change the world. We are living in a
weird time on this front right now. It's important that we go
back to our roots as a reason-based republic. We seem to
flirt with populism about every hundred years in this
country, and it seems we are in our latest courtship given
the era of Trump. But a cult of personality is never what our
Founding Fathers intended. We in fact were to be a nation of
laws and not men. Over my 25 years, I have come to revere
what the Founding Fathers created here--along with the
traditions and institutions that they established in support
of this simple but sacred idea of being about laws and ideas
rather than a nation subject to the whims of men.
It's part of the reason I have come to believe so
passionately in limited government. I have seen first hand
government's many inefficiencies, and any look at history
screams the dangers of walking away from the Founding
Fathers' inherent distrust in systems built on men rather
than ideas and the institutions built to protect those ideas.
So, along with the many things that I have enumerated
above, my simple parting wisdom is that we remember what
Benjamin Franklin said as he left the Constitutional
Convention--that we had been given a republic, if we could
keep it.
This will require vigilance on all of our parts.
It will mean not spending what we don't have. Math always
works. Professors Reinhart and Rogoff spoke eloquently to
this theme in their book ``This Time Is Different.'' Over the
800 years of financial history that they studied, it never
was different. In every instance, the civilization in
question found itself confronting the same math that our
country now faces, and the politicians inevitably answered
``this time is different'' when talking about the math behind
their debt burden. The political answer brought with it the
seeds of destruction, and if we simply accept the political
answer of more spending--that this administration and past
administrations have proffered, we will face the same fate of
those now extinct civilizations.
I believe that we are marching our way toward the most
predictable financial and economic crisis in the history of
our republic. If we don't change course soon, markets will do
it for us, and the consequences will be damning with regard
to future inflation, the value of the dollar, the worth of
our savings, and ultimately our way of life. More than
anything, these last 25 years have been about trying in some
small way to affect the trajectory of government spending. It
has at times been a most lonely battle, but I am thankful
that people like Justin Amash will still be here in Congress
to carry the flag forward in this eternal battle between
government's growth and liberty, between freedom and
security, and between the soothing promises of populism and
real math.
Hayek warned us of the moment we are now living in America.
In his book ``The Road to Serfdom,'' he talks about how open
political systems become more and more difficult and
cumbersome with the passage of time. This we all know. It's
again part of what makes me believe so strongly in
conservative philosophy and the importance of limiting
government. Part of making government more efficient simply
means reducing its size. Open political systems are never
designed for efficiency, they are designed to give each one
of us a voice--and that process of democracy is hard. It
means we all have to roll up our sleeves and give just a
little to find the compromises necessary to move things
forward.
What's valuable about Hayek's writing is the other half of
the story. Because as open political systems become
cumbersome and inefficient, inevitably a strong man comes
along and offers easy promises. He says that he can take care
of it for us. People desperate for a change accept his offer.
They have to give up a few freedoms in the equation to get
more security. It doesn't work out so well, as Hayek's book
in this instance is about the rise of Hitler in post-WWI
German history.
I want to be clear and explicit that I am not likening
Trump to Hitler, but the forces at play could lead to a
future Hitler-like character if we don't watch out. It must
be remembered that another thing that Benjamin Franklin said
was that he who trades his freedom for security, deserves
neither. Indeed, how true.
So my parting wisdom again is this:
As a country, we have to get back to math that works. We
are riding on the Titanic as it now stands. This will end
tragically for all of us, if we don't turn our spending
habits around. Paul Kennedy wrote an interesting book a few
years ago titled ``The Rise and Fall of the Great Powers,''
and again the dynamics that he talked about were once again
simply tied to math.
We can't throw the baby out with the bathwater with regard
to institutions and traditions that have served our country
well for more than 200 years. If we have no faith in our
institutions and the people that populate them, our system
breaks down.
We must embrace the truth, and it will set us free. Open
political systems cannot survive in a post-truth world. While
none of us are perfect, and there will always be grey around
some areas of truth, we cannot accept chronic streams of
distruth. If everything is subjective, there is nothing to
debate. If, on the other hand, there is objective truth, and
I can approach it from the right while you approach it from a
perspective more to the left, then we can join in debate.
Without truth out in the middle, there is no starting point
and the reasoned debate that an open political system relies
on for its survival is strangled and dissipates.
A corollary to this is that we can't accept the idea of
``fake news.'' I have certainly had more than my share of bad
stories of my time in politics. Some of them were indeed not
designed to bring forward the truth but were rather attempts
discovering the most sensational nugget or line regardless of
its context. And context is key to understanding any new bit
of information before us. But this does not make all news
fake. In the former Soviet Union, they have truly fake news,
and attempts to equate what's happening here with what
happened there is most dangerous. There is a reason that the
Founding Fathers enshrined the idea of a free and open press
in the First Amendment. We should watch this carefully as the
populist waves of today now come ashore.
Lest I turn what would have been my talk here into a book,
I will mercifully call it quits to my thoughts for the day.
In doing so, I want to again express my thanks to all who
have helped me on this journey and to once again encourage
your embrace of free markets, limited government, and the
institutional forces so vital to perpetuating this remarkably
fragile gift of individual liberty. As you consider my
charge, I would ask that you have the courage to walk humbly
in advancing the ideas that we might share. Indeed, Micah 6:8
said it best in suggesting that we are to do justice, love
mercy, and walk humbly. Godspeed in the journey.