Mr. President, about 2 months ago, late Sunday afternoon, when no one was around, I came into this Chamber to carry out a time- honored tradition, nearly as old as the institution itself. I came over to this desk and I opened the drawer…
Mr. President, about 2 months ago, late Sunday afternoon, when no one was around, I came into this Chamber to carry out a time- honored tradition, nearly as old as the institution itself. I came over to this desk and I opened the drawer and the tradition of carving your initials or your name into the bottom of that drawer was carried out. As you open these drawers, as many of us do when we are sitting here listening and debating, you tend to look at the names that are there. I see Robert Taft at the bottom of this drawer, Hugh Scott, Everett Dirksen, Howard Baker, Bob Dole, Trent Lott, and the list goes on. And with the quiet here, you begin to reflect a little bit. But then all of a sudden you start thinking, as you are carving your name into that drawer, that there aren't very many things that you leave that are permanent around here, but that is one.
It confronted me, as it hits me with such force today, that our time here, indeed, is temporary, and that we are here to occupy these seats at these desks just for a period of time. We can never forget that we don't own these seats. We don't own our presence in this U.S. Senate. It is with that recognition that I address my colleagues today.
I have reflected a lot over the last several weeks, and I think back to that nonpolitician who came to this city, this body, 12 years ago with a whole lot of hope for the people of Tennessee and a whole lot of hope for this country. I think back to the people who put their trust in that man's hands.
Indeed, it was 12 years ago that Karyn and I came to Washington. I came as a citizen legislator with absolutely no, no political experience. I was a doctor. I spent 20 years in the profession of healing. In my acceptance speech back 12 years ago, I pledged at that time to my fellow Tennesseans that Karyn and I would go to Washington, that we would serve for 12 years, for a limited amount of time, and that we would go back to Tennessee and live under the laws that we helped enact. And that is exactly what we will do. We are going to go back to Tennessee in a few weeks, and I am going to live in the very same house that I was born in 54 years ago.
I still remember coming to the Hill early on, and I know a number of new colleagues are coming to the Hill. I think back, and my former chief of staff, who was very green at the time--I just told you how green I was at the time--I remember standing right in front of the Capitol, and we had to stop somebody and ask: Where is this building called the Russell Building? And they told us. Luckily, I don't think they knew who I was at the time.
But I did come believing deeply in the promise that I had made. I believed in my heart that with determination--and I had seen it in surgery and in the operating room--one can make a difference in this world. Today, I look back and I see that I was only half right. One person can make a difference, and each of us do in our own ways. But to make a difference, we can't do it alone.
I certainly couldn't have done it without people who stood both behind me and with me over the last 12 years. I agree with all of my colleagues. I know they know Karyn. And, indeed, she has honored me by her unwavering love each step along the way. Her grace in carrying out her official responsibilities, her commitment to the development of character in our three boys, her moral support, her spiritual support for me and our family, she has been that guiding river that has kept us on course as we traveled two very different professions occupations: that of being a heart surgeon and that of serving as a U.S. Senator.
Our three boys most of you know as well. You have watched them grow up over the last 12 years: Bryan, Jonathan, and Harrison. Obviously, we are so proud of each of them. I will speak directly to them because they, as with anybody growing up, faced the huge challenges of growing up in public life, taking in stride the various swipes that the media takes from time to time, but doing so with real dignity and strength. The boys know that Tennessee is home. They have been able to take in the rich texture that is afforded all of us as we raise children here in this town. And they have grown from three young boys when we came here to three young men.
I want to thank staff members, and we never do that enough, those staff members who have been with me from the very beginning: Emily Reynolds, Ramona Lessen, Bart VerHulst, Cornell Wedge, Mark Winslow, and Carol Burroughs. I thank my series of chiefs of staff: Mark Tipps, Lee Rawls, Howard Liebengood, Eric Ueland, Andrea Becker, Bart, and Emily, and all those who have come in and out of these doors since that very first day 12 years ago when, yes, I, like somebody every cycle, was 100th in seniority. It is the staff that puts the needs of this country before their own needs. And with a lot of hard work and a lot of passion and a lot of hope, they have accomplished so much.
A few moments always stand out in my mind, and I will not recite all of them, but a few do stand out in my mind, victories like the $15 billion in funding for global HIV/AIDS, which I have seen firsthand the power in the hundreds of thousands and, indeed, I would say millions of lives that have been saved by American leadership there; the prescription drugs for seniors; confirming John Roberts and Sam Alito.
And through all of this time, we have borne witness to days that have literally changed the face of this Nation and the face of this Capitol, things like the Capitol shootings,
September 11, anthrax and ricin, and Katrina. But through all of that, we kept it the best way we could, with hard work and a lot of hope.
I thank my colleagues who placed their faith in me to serve as their leader. As I said four Decembers ago, when you elected me, it was and has been ever since, every day, a very humbling experience. On that day 4 years ago I quoted Proverbs: In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.
And what fulfilling steps have been afforded me as leader. I cannot let today pass without expressing gratitude for the close friendships of people who are here and some people who have passed through this Chamber: Howard Baker, the great Republican leader from Tennessee whose shoes as majority leader I have done my best to fill. He has counseled me over the years both as a Senator and as leader. His sage advice I have relied upon many times in those capacities.
You have to be very careful going around a room, but behind me, people like Pete Domenici, who became a mentor to me on that very first day in 1995; and people like John Warner, whom we saw in action just a few minutes ago on the floor and, yes, on the Gates nomination; and former Senators, people like Don Nickles who so wisely set the stage for the Republican tax cuts of the last several years; my colleague and confidante, Mitch McConnell, whose wisdom and service
has been indispensable to leading the Republican majority, who ascends in party leadership, who will be sitting at this desk in a few weeks, a temperament and skill with which no one is better prepared; my Tennessee colleagues, Fred Thompson and now Lamar Alexander, two great statesmen with whom I have had the honor to work side by side as we have addressed the needs of our constituents.
I thank the two Democratic leaders, Tom Daschle and now Harry Reid. As Harry and I have said publicly many times, everybody sees the public contrast between one leader to the other, between Harry and me. But what people don't see are the daily conversations, the private conversations off the floor where views are mutually respected, where burdens are shared, and where family is discussed. Karyn and I leave this body with tremendous respect for Harry and for Landra, for their contributions to this country.
To all my colleagues who have reached across the aisle and across differences when you could, thank you.
Twelve years ago, it was people in Tennessee who took a big chance, who took a great chance. They took a chance on a doctor who was little known, who had never served in public office, obviously had never run for public office. They began by opening their minds and then opening their homes and then opening their lives and then opening their hearts. And I am eternally grateful to them for giving me that trust and taking that chance.
On this floor many times I have mentioned my parents and I mentioned my dad. Dad used to say: It is a powerful thing to know where you are going in life, but it is equally powerful to know where you have come from.
To the good people of Tennessee, I thank you for never letting me forget where I have come from. You never let me forget those promises made on the trail over a decade ago, the promises that have been the heart of everything that we have done. Yours are the voices that have called out to me from Mountain City in east Tennessee to Memphis in the west, the people out there who are working hard every day to raise a family, to grow a business, to run a farm, to get ahead. As long as I live, I will never forget those voices. Those voices are clear, those voices of common sense that called out and counseled me time and time again.
Two people who won't hear me thank them today are two who were at my swearing in but who have since passed on: my parents Dorothy and Tommy Frist. They have left a fascinating legacy that the five children--I am the last of those five--have been the beneficiaries of, a legacy of honesty, of civility, of fairness, of hard work, and of service. And we all--at least I try to--struggle to capture what they did in passing that legacy on to our children.
My own brothers and sisters, Mary, Bobby, Dottie, and Tommy, all in their own way, with their children and grandchildren, have been successful in living lives of service to others. Many friends are here today, including Jean Ann and Barry Banker and Denise and Steve Smith. It is that friendship, that team, that gives people, I believe, the strength and foundation to carry out that mission of serving this great country.
In the past few weeks, I have spent a lot of time reflecting about the future of this institution. As I prepared to leave here and return to my home, many people have asked, don't you ever regret the promise that you made to serve just for 12 years, two terms? Did you regret it when you became chair of the RNC or majority leader? If you knew then what you know today, would you have made that promise 12 years ago? My answer is yes, because I believe today, as I believed then, in the ideal. It is, I guess, that ideal of a citizen legislator. It might seem bittersweet today, but it is right.
I hope that in some way, as I leave here, that my service--people may say it was effective or ineffective, and that is all very important--is an example of someone who had never, ever run for public office, never served before, and who had spent his lifetime--in fact, twice as much time as I spent in the Senate--pursuing another profession, coming here like so many people today and starting at 100th in seniority over in the basement of the Dirksen and rising to majority leader over that 12- year period; an example of a committed doctor who is able to find purpose and fulfillment in serving others, as all of us do as Senators, through elected office. I hope that will inspire others to seek office and to do public service. It is my hope that those who come to serve after me as a true citizen legislator will bring perspective and new ideas in a small way, a serendipitous way, or maybe a large way, and make this country a little better and contribute to this institution.
You have heard me talk about, and champion at times, term limits. Most people don't like them. They were popular for a period of time. I am a great believer in self-imposed term limits. Every morning you get up, you say I have 3 more years, 2 more years, or 1 year, or a half year, or 10 days, and you know that as every day goes by. If you don't have an understanding that there can be an end, you tend to forget that. Self-imposed term limits are the extreme exception here today, not the practice of this city. I think as a consequence we are moving toward a body that has too much of a 2-year vision, governing for that next election, rather than a body with a 20-year vision governing for the future.
As we consider the future of the institution, I urge that we ask ourselves what it is our forefathers envisioned. Is today's reality what they foresaw? I urge that we consider our work in this Chamber. What is it all about? Is it about keeping the majority? Is it about red States versus blue States? Is it about lobbing attacks across the aisle or is it about war rooms whose purpose is not to contrast ideas but to destroy or is it more? When the Constitutional Convention met in 1787, delegates considered how best to structure this legislative branch of new Government. They were determined not to repeat the mistakes made in the Articles of Confederation, which had a single, unicameral legislature. Speaking to the convention, Virginia's James Madison set forth the reasons to have a Senate. His words:
In order to judge the form to be given to this institution,
it will be proper to take a view of the ends to be served by
it.
These were, first, to protect the people against their rulers and, secondly, to protect the people against transient impressions into which they themselves might be led.
I think we need to remember this vision of the Senate that the Framers established--that the Senate is to protect people from their rulers and as a check on the House and on the passions of the electorate. Let us not allow these passions of the electorate to be reflected as destructive partisanship on this floor.
Taking the oath of office, which many of our good colleagues will be doing shortly, commits each Senator to respect and revere the Framers' dream. To my successor, Bob Corker, and to all the Senators who will follow me in service to this great Nation, I urge you to be bold, make the most of your time here, and look at problems with fresh eyes and the steely determination to give the American people a reason to believe in you and to hope for a better tomorrow.
To serve in this grand institution has been a labor of love. To lead here is a challenging responsibility that is set out before me and each of us. It has been a profound honor to serve.
I will close with just one story. It happens in southern Sudan. As many of you have heard me say, because it is such an important part of my life, I go to Sudan just about every year--a thousand miles south of Khartoum and 500 miles west of the Nile River. I started going there in the mid to late nineties. I had been there operating back in the bush, and I was ready to come home. Actually, it was in January. The State of the Union was a few days off. We finished operating in a hut. I operated by flashlight late at night. Somebody in a little hut said, ``I want to see the American doctor.'' Well, I didn't want to go. I wanted to get back home. I wanted to get on the plane and come back home, but I went to see him. I was tired. I walked over and pulled the curtain aside--the rug that was used as a curtain--and in the back there was somebody smiling. You could see the bandages on his hands and legs, and I went over; and through a translator I said, ``I am the American doctor.'' He said, ``Thank you to the American doctor.'' As a physician, I am accustomed to that because when you
operate on somebody, they say thank you. So I said, ``you're welcome,'' and I got ready to leave. He was frustrated and he said, ``Come back.'' He said. ``Thank you for being the American doctor.'' I still didn't quite get it. He picked up his arm and said, ``I lost my arm fighting in this civil war. I lost my leg 8 days ago. It was about 2 years ago that I lost my wife and my 2 children. Thank you for being the American doctor.''
And then I started to get it. He was saying thank you for being the American doctor. Then he said, basically, that: It is you who are a representative of America, and for democracy and liberty and freedom I sacrificed my wife and my children and my arm and my body. Thank you for what you represent.
Then all of a sudden, it began to hit me. To me, that image cuts through just about everything that we do. It is about preserving as best we can the great hope that we represent here in America, which is embodied in this institution, the freedom, the responsibility, the opportunity, the compassion, and the basic decency that is at the heart of who we are as Americans. Beyond Democrat or Republican--which came out of the campaign--now is the time to again remind ourselves and state again and again that beyond being Democrats and Republicans, we are Americans. Together, we are one people. It is our responsibility to uphold the dream and protect that hope for every American and indeed the people around the world who seek that freedom.
I opened by saying that our time here is temporary; we are just passing through. Now is the time to close. Your patience has been generous. As I have spent a lifetime learning, to everything there is a season. We say that and hear it and tend to repeat it when there are changes. But to everything there is a season, and my season here draws to a close. Tomorrow is the time for birth and rebirth. Tomorrow is a day and a time for new rhythms.
My dad did a great thing that I shared with some of you. Each of us should do this for our children or for the people we care about. He knew he was going to die in the next couple of years. We asked him to write down his thoughts, advice, and counsel for the next generation-- not just his kids and theirs, but for the great-great-grandkids that he would never see, a simple 4 to 5 pages. He ended that letter to his great-grandchildren with the following words:
The world is always changing, and that's a good thing. It's
how you carry yourself in the world that doesn't change--
morality, integrity, warmth, and kindness are the same things
in 1910, when I was born, or in 2010, or later, when you will
be reading this. And that's a good thing, too. Love,
Granddaddy.
So under the dome, it is time for fresh faces and fresh resolve. Change is good. Change is constructive. The Senate changes, the people who serve here change; but what doesn't change is that every one of us who serves believes deeply in the genius of the American democracy.
It is with the deepest appreciation that Karyn and I thank you all for 12 wonderful years. There are no words to describe the honor it has been.
I yield the floor.
(Applause, Senators rising.)
Mr. President, I suggest the absence of a quorum.