Eight years ago I had the honor of bumping into Sen. Edward Moore "Ted" Kennedy, the legendary Massachusetts Senator who died last night in his Hyannis Port home at the age of 77.
He was a still-vibrant 68 at the time of our encounter -- and I even got to exchange a few words with him. Very few ... admittedly ... but a few, nonetheless.
So, today seems like an appropriate time as any to relate that chance encounter.
It was a cold, blustery day in January 2001, and George W. Bush had recently been awarded the presidency by the US Supreme Court. I was in Washington, having set up a meeting with a fellow named Joe Keenan, who was the director of the Senate Press Gallery (I believe he still is, actually), which at the time was housed in the Russell Senate Building. Keenan was in charge of handing out press credentials for Bush's inauguration on Jan. 20.
I had just been given the political beat by my editor, and, after more than a year on the job, the Bush inauguration was to be my first major assignment for the Lancaster Intelligencer Journal. Because of the sheer number of press credentials being handed out, there was no other way to get them than to go and get them. DC was three hours away, but I didn't care. I wanted to make sure I did it right. Up until now, I had been covering municipal meetings. This was my ticket to the big-time. Literally.
I parked my car at a park 'n' ride along Route 83 in Baltimore and took a train into the nation's capital. I had a vague idea of where the Russell building was, and I knew the office number of the Senate Press Gallery where I was to pick up my credentials: 317.
To my delight, I found the Russell building easily. I bounded up the steps on the corner of Delaware and Constitution avenues and into the door.
The Sept. 11 terror attacks were nine months away, but security was far from lax. Armed guards adorned the vestibule along with several imposing metal detectors. For visitors, there were guides who would show them around the building after they passed through the checkpoint.
Since I wasn't a visitor, I flashed the guards my press badge and they ushered me through a separate metal detector, which circumvented the tourist riff-raff, sending me into the great beyond.
The building was enormous, and even though I wasn't there to take in the sights, I didn't want to take the elevators. I wasn't sure which floor I was on (there are several entrances at varying heights), so I took the stairs to get better oriented. On one of the stairwell landings, sitting at a correspondent's desk, I met a striking woman with the most vivid and piercing blue eyes I had ever seen. I asked her if she could direct me to room 317 and she pleasantly obliged. I was right around the corner from it (Several weeks later, I looked up from my desk and caught a glimpse of this woman on a cable news show. Her name was Norah O'Donnell, and she was MSNBC's Washington correspondent.).
As I approached room 317, something didn't seem right. Where were the reporters? Where was the sign announcing this place as the "Senate Press Gallery." There was nothing. The door was ajar, though, so I entered, hoping that perhaps the receptionist inside could redirect me.
The room was small, but elegantly decorated. To the right was an old wooden desk but no attendant. To the left was a worn burgundy leather sofa lined with a multitude of smooth brass tacks.
Above the sofa, were dozens of pictures of Kennedys. There was JFK and RFK arm-in-arm with Teddy. There was William Kennedy Smith and Maria Shriver and Arnold Schwarzenegger. Old pictures of Joseph and Rose Kennedy were side-by-side with new ones of John-John and Caroline Kennedy. The more I looked around the room, the more Kennedys I saw. They were everywhere.
As I stood there with my mouth gaping, a door to the right of the desk, which I hadn't previously noticed, suddenly opened. Out came two policy wonks and then ... Teddy Kennedy himself.
He was shorter than I had imagined and broader. Having seen images of him in his early years, he always seemed to tower over everyone else. But here he was, in front of me, and although he had exited his office at a brisk, loping pace, he stopped right in front of me and looked me dead in the eye.
It was at this moment that I realized I was blocking the door, and he had no choice but to stop.
"May I help you, there, sir?" he asked in his trademark New England drawl.
I pointed at him, puzzled. "You're ... not ... Joe Keenan," I said flatly.
"Er, no ... I'm naught."
At this point, his wonks pushed past me with unfavorable glances and then whisked the Senator out of the room and out to the elevators, which were a short lurch away.
I was still standing at the Senator's door as he entered the elevators. He cast one last glance my way, and maybe it was my imagination, but I swear, for just a second, he smiled.
I eventually found the press gallery. Turns out, the room number was two-seventeen, not 317. Norah helped me again after learning what I was after.
***
Politically, Ted Kennedy sided with the left-wing of the Democratic party on every major issue -- from abortion to gun control to foreign policy. Still, conservative Republicans enjoyed debating him, perhaps because, as staunchly liberal as he was, he was never too close-minded to consider compromise ... as long as no one got what they wanted.
He may not have been a conservative, but as a worthy foil, Ted Kennedy had long ago earned our respect.
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Comments
Justin, an absolutely captivating recollection. You tell a story well and your closing points about him being a worthy foil are — as always — thoughtful. Are you sure you don’t want to leave the dark side and become a Blue Dog Democrat? Uncle Teddy would have appreciated that.
In a life that is littered with ironies, here’s the biggest one of all: His three older brothers – Joe, Jack and Bobby – are eternally frozen in our imagination as the personifications of youth and vigor (or “vigah”). How poignant that our final image of the baby of that family will be as an old man, frail and mortally ill.
His was the most impressive evolution in American political history. Let’s be honest; in 1962 the guy was a lightweight. He ran for the Democratic nomination against another young man, Edward McCormick, whose uncle was the speaker of the House of Representatives. During a debate McCormick told him that were it not for his name, his candidacy would be viewed as a joke. It was a point well made. It is obvious when looking at film of that campaign that our boy Ted is in way over his head.
Who would have dared dream all those years ago that this punk kid would one day evolve into the greatest senator ever to walk those halls?
An incredible realization just came to me: Teddy represented the state of Massachusetts for forty-six years, eight months and nineteen days. That is nearly three months longer than all the years his older brother Jack lived on earth. Forgive the cliche that is so overused it has become trite through repetition, but this really is the end of an era.
http://www.tomdegan.blogspot.com
Tom Degan
Goshen, NY
Thanks for the nice comments, Linda, but I’m afraid the POWER of the Dark Side is just too compelling, although if I were to ever be turned, it would be to become a Blue Dog. Or, rather, a Blue Dawg — as Uncle Teddy would say.
Wow what an article, Ted Kennedy was really a transformational figure in U.S. politics and will sorely be missed. Thanks for writing this, it’s always great to read what you’re writing about. I’ll be sure to come back!