Madam Speaker, I thank the gentleman for yielding. Madam Speaker, I thank Congressman Graves for arranging this special tribute to a devoted patriot, a serious legislator, and endearing colleague and friend, the dean of the House,…
Madam Speaker, I thank the gentleman for yielding.
Madam Speaker, I thank Congressman Graves for arranging this special tribute to a devoted patriot, a serious legislator, and endearing colleague and friend, the dean of the House, Congressman Don Young. I thank Mr. Graves for his leadership in putting this together. I am pleased to join our distinguished Democratic leader, Mr. Hoyer, who is still here on the floor now for this.
Madam Speaker, this morning, Congress had the sad and official honor of welcoming Congressman Young back to the Capitol to lie in state in Statuary Hall. As Speaker, it was my solemn privilege to join in paying tribute to this legendary leader, as his historic public service brought luster to the Congress and to the country.
It was always clear that Don was passionate about his position and his patriotism, and about working in this institution to make a difference.
As an Army veteran, he was a force for ensuring our servicemembers, veterans, and military families got the care they earned;
As a former teacher and passionate advocate for quality education for all of our Nation's children; and
As a champion for Alaska--as Congressman Graves pointed out, and Mr. Hoyer as well--he was relentless in delivering investments to his beloved home State, especially lifting up Native communities in honor of his late wife, Lu.
When Don became dean in December 2017, he said right here on the House floor: I love this body. I believe in this body. My heart is in the House.
He loved the House and the House loved him. Indeed, Don Young was an institution in the House of Representatives. As was said this morning, 49 years for the 49th State, The Last Frontier, which he loved; Alaska.
While a committed conservative, he was more than willing to work across party lines if it meant delivering for his beloved home State of Alaska. And as dean, he cherished the duty to bring Members together and to defend the dignity and integrity of this institution.
I, myself, was personally honored to be sworn in as Speaker two times by the distinguished dean, Don Young, in 2019 and 2021.
As dean, he cherished his duty to bring Members together, as I said. Despite political differences, many of us on the other side of the aisle enjoyed close personal friendships with him built on our shared reverence and respect for this institution.
His salmon dinners were legendary. His personality was similarly legendary.
While we are devastated by the loss of our dear friend and colleague, each of us has a duty to honor his unending love for the House and the towering legacy he leaves behind.
Again, I call to attention the fact that George Miller, who served with him wrote--it is online in The Hill--an article he wrote with John Lawrence as opinion contributors. But George Miller and Don Young were back and forth, chair and ranking member, on the Interior Committee and the Committee on Natural Resources. You have to read it because any one sentence taken out of context, you might not appreciate, but let me just read what he said at the end: ``Saying you miss Don Young doesn't mean he was right all the time or that he was invariably wrong; it means the House is diminished by his loss. He was a great Congressman and a great friend; Alaska was fortunate to have him.''
May it be a comfort to his beloved wife, Anne, his dear children, Dawn and Joni, and his 20-some darling grandchildren that so many in the Congress and the country mourn their loss.
Madam Speaker, I include in the Record the statement of George Miller and John A. Lawrence.
Don Young: A Conservative Who Believed in the House
(By George Miller and John A. Lawrence)
Don Young, the Alaska congressman who died on March 18 at
88 and who is lying in state today, was a hard-nosed, in-
your-face, unapologetic, old-line conservative. An ardent
hunter and gun advocate, the walls of his legendary Rayburn
building office looked like the workplace of an over-active
taxidermist: covered in heads, hides and horns of the
creatures that had the misfortune to cross paths with this
former teacher, trapper and river boat captain. A descendent
of the early conservationist movement that preserved open
lands and wildlife so he could drill and graze on the former
and shoot the latter, he had no patience with public land
purists who demanded minimal human intrusions on the natural
ecosystem. It is fair to say he was much more Safari Club
than Sierra Club.
Don was not a subtle personality, as many discovered
throughout his career. If he was unhappy with your criticisms
or bored with your speechifying, he might pull out his
hunting knife and hold it to your throat or jam it into the
dais next to you at a hearing. The chief proponent of logging
old forests and drilling the fragile coast, he was a hero to
his Alaska constituents who sent him to Congress longer than
any other sitting member, but a desecrating exploiter of the
public's resources to environmentalists, especially those in
the other 49 states.
But if Don was a throwback to an earlier age of gruff,
sharp-elbow politics, he also retained that era's deep love
for the House in which he spent the bulk of his life, where
he chaired two committees and served as Dean--and where it
was not considered an act of treachery or political suicide
to reach across the aisle.
There is often a tendency when someone dies to sand off the
hard edges and portray the recently departed as something of
a saint. Don would be the first to acknowledge he was no
saint, and he'd be furious with anyone who tried to sand off
his rough edges. He would bellow like a wounded grizzly when
he made concessions on the Tongass forest or the Alaska Lands
law, but once the deal was struck in the negotiations, he
would go out on the floor and defend the work product of his
committee.
Even so, Don remained a pariah to most national
environmental activists for promoting projects like the
Trans-Alaska pipeline or drilling in the Arctic Wilderness
(both issues on which we strongly disagreed with him), and
many of his own colleagues were angry with him for pushing
through the $400-million Gravina Island ``bridge to nowhere''
that became a paradigm of congressional pork and provoked
Congress to ban earmarks. But the people who worked on those
projects and would have driven on that bridge (it was
cancelled in 2005) were Don Young's constituents, and he was
doing what congresspeople have done since time immemorial:
taking care of the district. And it's worth noting that the
House, after a decade of prohibition, has resurrected--with
greater transparency--earmarks as a crucial way of securing
the votes to pass legislation.
Because he was very much his own man and did not suffer
fools (or anyone else, for that matter) lightly, Don was
skeptical of the new breed of hyper-partisans who emerged
halfway through his long tenure in the House. Back in 1994,
he was one of just a handful of Republicans who refused to
embrace Newt Gingrich's ``Contract With America,'' a
collection of half-baked, rhetorical broadsides against the
Democratic majority under which he had always served. Asked
why he declined to embrace the campaign
document, he matter-of-factly declared, ``Because it's a
crock of shit.''
Later in the decade, Don unexpectedly joined with leading
environmentalists to support the Conservation and
Reinvestment Act (CARA) that offered up vast lands for both
hunting and backpacking but also included greater protections
for landowners and restrained federal land acquisitions. Down
at the White House, plying the bill's key sponsors with Diet
Cokes as they happily missed floor votes, Bill Clinton
professed his commitment to the bill to a delegation that
included Republicans like Young who had just voted to impeach
him. When Young left the West Wing after a couple of hours,
he marveled, ``No president has spent that much time with me
since Nixon'' three decades earlier.
Don helped build a stunning bipartisan coalition for CARA
that passed the House with over 300 votes but stalled in the
Senate. When asked why he could not get the bill past the
upper house, he blamed ``those crazy, god-damned right-wing
bastards.'' When he was reminded ``Don, you're a crazy right-
wing bastard, you know,'' he answered, ``That's true, but I
know how to cut a deal.''
The House Don Young leaves behind is one where knowing how
to cut a bipartisan deal is a much more difficult challenge
than in his glory days, wielding the gavel at the Resources
and Transportation committees. His departure marks one more
loss of the kind of people who were willing to take tough
stands and live with the fallout, good or bad, because it was
vastly better than gridlock and cheap shot sniping.
Saying you'll miss Don Young doesn't mean he was right all
the time or that he was invariably wrong; it means the House
is diminished by his loss. He was a great congressman and a
great friend; Alaska was fortunate to have him.
Madam Speaker, frequently we will say at a service, ``I mourn with you.'' We are all mourning in the House with Anne, Dawn, and Joni because we have all lost a dear, dear friend, and we are praying for them at this sad time. He was a blessing to our country. May Congressman Don Young forever rest in peace.
When I asked George Miller this morning, what word would you use to describe Don Young. He said: He was amazing. He shouted over the phone: He was amazing.
And how appropriate that the family had suggested ``Amazing Grace'' as the song to be sung at his service earlier today as he laid in state in Statuary Hall.
Yes, Don Young. Amazing. ``Amazing Grace.''