Mr. President, I rise today to talk about some friends of mine. Roxie Raines Kornegay Allison. Roxie Raines Kornegay Allison, my across-the-street neighbor for nearly 30 years, died of COVID last Thursday night at 6 o'clock. Roxie has been…
Mr. President, I rise today to talk about some friends of mine.
Roxie Raines Kornegay Allison. Roxie Raines Kornegay Allison, my across-the-street neighbor for nearly 30 years, died of COVID last Thursday night at 6 o'clock. Roxie has been kind of the matriarch and the pillar of our little four-block-long neighborhood.
We have the annual party in the median in October, and Roxie kind of presides. She has been sort of the caretaker, always taking care of a family member or a friend.
One of the first persons who reached out to me when Roxie passed was a city councilman in Pasadena, CA, who had heard instantaneously. He used to be the deputy police chief in Richmond. He said: When I moved to Richmond, I didn't know anybody. Roxie was the one who kind of adopted me and showed me the ropes in Richmond.
Roxie was a pioneer in Virginia government, making opportunities for African Americans to get hired in key positions--a civil rights leader in the State.
My wife and I and our whole neighborhood are just absolutely devastated by the loss. My wife and I were talking about: How old do you think Roxie is?
We always viewed her as sort of our age because she is so vigorous and fun and lively. She is 20 years older than my wife and me.
Three days before Roxie Raines Kornegay Allison died, another neighbor of mine, Sheila Mandt, who was 55 years old, died of COVID. Sheila was a dynamic activist in the Richmond community, with a real heart for nonprofit organizations that focused on the needs of survivors of domestic violence. She had done pioneering work in that area and worked with other organizations too, like the Salvation Army and others.
She was married for a long time to another friend, Chris Hilbert, who had been a member of the Richmond City Council.
Three days before Sheila Mandt died of COVID, Patsy Arsenault died of COVID in Richmond. Patsy is the mother of my parish priest, Father Jim Arsenault. It is a tiny little parish in Richmond, and Patsy has been very much a part of our parish community.
So in 8 days, three people that I know died of COVID. And this morning, I heard early in the morning that another dear friend--and I am not going to mention his name, but another dear friend of mine--is in the hospital with COVID and on a ventilator. He is somebody I know very, very well. I officiated at his wedding about 15 years ago, when I was Governor.
I am a healthy and wealthy and privileged person, so if this is happening to me in my network of friends and family, I know it is happening to others. I think this now makes nine people I know who have died of COVID.
I was on the phone yesterday with Taiwan's representative to the United States--representative is essentially their equivalent of the Ambassador. She told me that Taiwan has had nine COVID deaths--dozens of miles from China. They have had nine COVID deaths. I haven't gone back to check that, but my wife and I have nine friends and family, including the mother-in-law of my brother, who have died of COVID.
We had 3,406 deaths yesterday in the United States to COVID. Basically, beginning on about December 20, the daily death toll in the United States to COVID has virtually every day eclipsed the number of Americans who were killed on 9/11. We have now eclipsed 447,000 deaths to COVID.
So my own feelings of sadness about my friends are just shared in common with everybody. Everybody has been touched by this--knowing somebody who is ill, knowing somebody who has died, maybe having COVID themselves,
maybe having lost a job, maybe having lost a business, maybe having not been able to go see a parent or grandparent in a nursing home or not been able to travel to see a brandnew grandchild. This touches everyone. It doesn't touch everyone equally. Those getting COVID and those dying of COVID are predominantly minorities. Those losing jobs to COVID are predominantly minorities, young people working at the lowest end of the salary scale.
So why do I take the floor to talk about Roxie and Sheila and Patsy and my other friend who I just learned this morning is on a ventilator in the hospital? I take the floor because this, to me, is just evidence underlined with an exclamation point that we have to act promptly to provide a suffering nation more COVID relief, and we shouldn't be stingy about it. We have to be bold about it because the amount of suffering people in this country are undergoing is still so staggering, nearly unprecedented.
The scale of the problem is so big, the health scale of the problem-- that many deaths and millions having had COVID; the economic scale of the problem--we are still down 10 million jobs from where we were 1 year ago, and that is with some significant recovery occasioned by the investments that Congress has been willing to make in the first five bills that we passed. Even with those having had significant effect on our States and communities, we are still down 10 million jobs. And then we are also down in the intangibles. It is not just the number of cases, the number of deaths, the number of hospitalizations, the number of businesses that are closed, and the number of people who have lost jobs; it is the scale of sadness and unhappiness and the consequences that will go on for some significant period of time that we are still living under.
Here are two examples, and I could give 50, just as any Senator who stood on the floor could give 50 examples because we are all hearing this. The mental health needs of frontline healthcare workers--I had a Zoom session with doctors and nurses around the State not long ago, and the stories just break your heart.
One nurse said: You know, I am used to death. I mean, this is what I do. I have been a nurse for 20 years in this hospital, and I am sort of used to maybe one death per week on the shifts that I work. I am not used to three deaths on a shift day after day after day.
Another nurse jumped in from a different part of the State and said: That is right. Let me tell you what the hardest thing is for me.
The nurse said this: Maybe the most important thing I do as a healthcare provider is, when somebody is dying in the hospital, I escort their family into their room so that they can have some last moments together as a family sitting around the bedside and holding their hand or exchanging memories with their parent or their spouse or a child or a sibling. You can't do that now. People dying from COVID-- because of exposure risk, I can't make this place sort of a sacred place for family to say a last goodbye, so it is up to me to do it. I have to go in there, and I am wearing a mask; I can't even smile at the person. I am probably not even supposed to hold their hand, but I do anyway. And then what I do is I bring in my iPad, and I hold it a few inches from the dying person's face so that they can have an end-of- life discussion with family members who can't be there at their bedside and be there with them.
The nurses who told me this said this is really tough. It is tough to do it day after day after day and be the last person on Earth who so many people are seeing and trying to manage that really intimate and important sacred moment between a dying person and their family when they are gasping their last breath.
A third nurse then cut in and said: All those things are true. Let me tell you, for me, what is the hardest for my mental well-being in terms of doing this every day. I do what the other two have just described, and then I get done with the shift, and I am just beat, and I don't want to take that home to my family.
I don't want to take that frustration and depression home to my family, so I drive around for a while until I can kind of clear my head. Invariably, when I am driving around, I will go by someplace like a restaurant or a bar, and I will see a whole lot of people there with each other without masks on, people who think the mask thing is fake or it is a political thing, and they are making a statement by not wearing a mask and not following basic health guidelines.
After the day that I have gone through and the challenge to my own mental health in seeing this, I see that happening, and I am like: You are going to be in the hospital next week. Do you know what you are doing to yourself? Do you know what you are doing to your family? Do you know what you are doing to me? I am going to be having to hol that iPad in front of your face or maybe somebody else you are with as they talk to family.
The healthcare needs of our frontline healthcare workers who have been besieged by this pandemic--they are not going to go away the day we say we are past COVID. The challenges people have endured to be the heroes we claim them to be are not just going to immediately go away. Part of this COVID relief bill needs to be about keeping our own healers healthy.
A second example I will give quickly is housing. Thank goodness, in the COVID bills thus far, we have been able to find some bipartisan agreement to extend evictions--put a moratorium on evictions, put a moratorium on foreclosures for properties that have some Federal connection, financed through, you know, Fannie or Freddie, or FHA. If they have a Federal nexus, we provide an eviction moratorium.
OK, that is really important, but what about when we get to the end of the moratorium? Families have big obligations that are backed up. Maybe they lost jobs or lost income. Can they come current then on their obligations when we are done with the moratorium, or will they then face eviction? After they have gone through the unimaginable of COVID and now we are past it, will they then face eviction because their resources will not be sufficient to catch them up with their back-due obligations?
It is not just the residents. What about the landlords? So many landlords of rental properties are small business owners, and they provide housing to families, and they have to pay off mortgages too. We also want them to keep the properties up, to keep them safe, to keep them habitable, to keep them as dignified places where people can live, but if rent isn't coming in to them, how can they pay off their own obligations? How can they keep up the quality of housing where people live?
I could have talked about the needs of the unemployed or the needs of people who use childcare. At one point in the summer, 40 percent of childcare institutions in this country were closed down. That makes it so hard to open our businesses. I could have talked about the tremendous needs of small businesses. Thank goodness it has been a bipartisan priority in all the bills we did in 2019 to prioritize small business assistance. These needs are intense.
There are some positive signs. Hospitalizations and cases are starting to go down even though the death toll remains high, but this challenge--we are not done with it. We are not near done with it, and that is why we have to go big, in my view, and that is why we have to do it with a sense of urgency.
I want to conclude and just say that the budget reconciliation tool that was part of the Congressional Budget Act of 1974 is about doing big things with a sense of urgency. I am getting asked sometimes by press, as I wander around: Should you use reconciliation, or should you try to be bipartisan?
I said: Hold on a second. Reconciliation isn't partisan. Reconciliation was a part of the Budget Control Act put in place 35 years ago, and budget reconciliation has been used for some of the most bipartisan, positive achievements of Congressmen in recent decades. CHIP, the Children's Health Insurance Program, was done with reconciliation. The earned income tax credit was done with reconciliation.
Reconciliation is a tool. You can use it in a bipartisan way or in a partisan way. It has also been used in a partisan way. The effort to undo the Affordable Care Act was done by reconciliation with no support on the Democratic side of the aisle. The tax cut bill in 2017 was done via reconciliation with no support
on the Democratic side of the aisle. But choosing the path of reconciliation is not the opposite of bipartisanship.
I so applaud President Biden and Vice President Harris for their earnest dialogue with our Republican colleagues, and I applaud my Republican colleagues for going to the White House and talking about what should be in this bill because as they share their priorities, they are going to shape this bill.
Without having seen the bill--I know no one has--I can make a guarantee about this bill, and I am 100 percent sure I am right about this. When this bill hits the table and the negotiation is done and before we have a final passage vote on it and we analyze what is in the bill, we are going to see so many priorities in this bill that are not just Democratic priorities but that are Republican priorities, too, things that were drawn from bills that Republicans introduced or that Republicans cosponsored with Democrats, things that were raised by Republican Senators in their dialogue with President Biden and with us. We are going to see a bill that meets the need of Americans who are suffering to do something big and to do something urgent and includes priorities that were Republican Senators' priorities, that are good for Republican voters, and that are good for all Americans.
So this is the second time I have done a floor speech where I have gone over the names of people whom I know who died of COVID. I don't want to do a third speech. I don't want to do a third speech. I think it is important to say people's names so we remember them and we honor them. But the best way we can honor them is not through a floor speech; the best way we can honor them is acting in a compassionate and prompt and significant way to ease the suffering of Americans during this most unprecedented time.
With that, I yield the floor.
I suggest the absence of a quorum.