The Death of Paul Simon, Senator and Historian
Simon followed in the footsteps of 1970s governor, Tom McCall, whose policies of environbmental concern stirred America to begin thinking and acting on conservation concerns. Simon patterned himself after outspoken Sen. Wayne Morse, whose independent spirit makes him an icon of honest government even today, a quarter century after his death.
Simon may have been viewed as politically naive by hard-nosed pragmatists. But he, like President Jimmy Carter, gave sustained service to Democratic society that continued beyond his years in elected office. While Carter's openness was viewed as an anachronism in public office, Simon's outspoken actions for "the little guy" were seen as a natural outgrowth of his Oregon heritage.
When Carter was defeated in his bid for a second term, he spent no time complaining or moping. He turned to building homes for the needy-- with his own hands-- in a still-thriving project called "Habitat for Humanity."
Simon did not miss a step as he transfered his energies and intellect to Southern Illinois University, where he created his Public Policy Institute.
He traveled the world in behalf of the environment and the fair distribution of its resources.
Carter and Simon did not share the addiction to golf that occupies many of their political peers after retirement. Both also disdained another popular role for former office holders, the lucrative one of highly-placed lobbiest for corporations. That has made them rarities in our political system. With Simon, I came to appreciate why because of the coincidence of a published letter-to-the-editor.
When I left my native Illinois for Oregon in 1976, I'd not met nor had a chance to vote for him. But eight years later, I played-- according to
Simon-- a role in getting him into the U.S. Senate. The door to our 20-year friendship opened because of my letter-to-the-editor in a Chicago newspaper.
The letter had the temerity-- in the view of my conservative friends back in Illinois-- of an "outlander" urging Illinois voters to do themselves and the nation a favor by electing Simon to the Senate. It got added attention because it was run with an artist's caricature of Simon, featuring his big ears and customary bow tie.
He defeated heavily favored incumbent, Charles Percy, by a narrow margin. Then he wrote me: "One never knows. Your letter could have made the difference. Thanks for writing it."
Illinois had a constituency that elected Simon to office almost every time he ran during his four decades of public life. Oregon still has old friends of his from the first 18 years of his life in, Eugene, now my home.
When he chose to leave the Senate in 1996, that body was deprived of an eloquent voice of civil discourse-- a commodity today in short supply in governing bodies. His death now deprives the world of an inspired advocate for global peace and environmental care.
I was reminded of that developing role for him at his Public Policy Institute when he spoke with great conviction on his last visit to Eugene in 2002. He appeared in a University of Oregon Law School auditorium that borders a courtyard named after the man he told me he most admired: Wayne Morse. That evening, he spoke convincingly of the growing need for water conservation and its just distribution, insights he gained after touring several 3d World countries.
He and his spouse, Jeanne, both were Illinois state legislators when I lived there. We became personal friends, but not until after my move to Oregon. The friendship was spurred by that letter-to-the-editor, and the fact Eugene was familiar territory for him. He was born there in 1928, when his father was minister at Grace Lutheran Church. Paul attended the city's public schools, then enrolled at the University of Oregon. He transfered when his family moved to Illinois.
His journalistic interest, honed as a schoolboy reporter at the Register-Guard of Eugene, led him to become the nation's youngest newspaper editor and publisher. At 19, he bought a weekly in Troy, just across the Mississippi from St. Louis, an area then notorious for public corruption.
At some risk, he challenged the local syndicates, resulting in a clean-up by the Illinois state police. That earned him attention from reformers, and interest from Governor Adlai Stevenson.
It led to 40 years of legislative service, starting as a state representative in 1954. In 1973, he was elected to the U.S. Congress, a decade later to the Senate. His years in the federal Congress earned him national respect as a legislatorr of integrity and honesty. That identity brought him back to Oregon in 1991 to receive the Wayne Morse Integrity in Politics Award. His reputation as a blue ribbon legislator made the choice logical and popular.
In 1988, as today, the race for the Democratic presidential nomination appeared wide open, and Simon announced his candidacy. His campaign brought us together when he asked me to schedule a Eugene public luncheon for Jeanne, who was stumping for him. She was an experienced campaigner, not only in support of her husband's bids for national office, but from her years in the Illinois House of Representatives.
Simon might have been the person best suited for the office. But he lacked a national constituency, and dropped out as the Michael Dukakis candidacy caught fire.
In our last correspondence, he reminded me of the letter I'd written in his behalf two decades ago. "That was valuable," he said, "but, I have to admit to you, it was mainly a moral lift. What really made the difference in that election was campaign money I received that I never sought. A lobby of Jewish groups got upset with Sen. Percy, whom they long had backed. They thought his support for Israel was weakening. They were wrong. But I unexpectedly got the financial benefit of their decision to teach him a lesson."
Simon said he had good relations with that lobby, but it never influenced any of his votes on Israeli-related issues.
"I could not do that," he said. "I never did for anyone. The bad reality of having to raise campaign money is what forces many into a payback situation with major donors. Then the country is cheated. Having to ask for money from private sources is what convinced me in 1997 to leave the Senate. I knew the excessive time I'd have to spend cultivating donors would take too much away from my duties in office."
He was frustrated over a court ruling that causes the U.S. elections systen to equate giving money to candidates with "free speech." After his experience seeking the nomination for president, he wrote a book, "Winners and Losers," expressing anger over a system he felt "could turn democracy into plutocracy."
As a child of the Great Depression, Simon developed his strong feeling of social responsibility. The government, he felt, had to play a major role in helping the unfortunate. He also could get emotional over disparities between haves and have-nots, as seen in a personal anecdote he shared with
me:
"The only time I ever got all choked up was when I heard a news item on the car radio as I drove somewhere. It told of nine kids running in a Special Olympics 50-yard dash. One fell. The others stopped, and went to help him. Then they all crossed the finish line together. Those kids are supposed to be retarded, but we all could learn from them."