Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Floor Speech of State Representative and Ohio Democratic Party Chairman Chris Redfern
on Resolution Honoring the Life and Legacy of former Ohio Senator Howard Metzenbaum
As Delivered
Vice President Al Gore once said that Howard Metzenbaum looked like a founding father – and spoke like a labor organizer.
Howard Metzenbaum was a self-made millionaire who battled big corporations in the public arena.
A ready partisan who found fellowship and common cause with even his most conservative colleagues.
To detractors, he was an iconoclast and a constant sore, an unabashed liberal who won the votes of Ohioans who would tell you, to your face, that they weren’t very much fond of unabashed liberals.
The grandson of Hungarian immigrants, Howard Metzenbaum was the central character in a quintessentially American story, with humble beginnings in Glenville, Ohio.
Howard ran track in high school where he crossed paths with another budding Ohio legend, Jesse Owens, who left him in a cloud of dust.
The long arc of his journey took him from Glenville, to the campus of Ohio State University, the Statehouse, the world of business and entrepreneurship, and eventually to the halls of the United States Senate.
Howard was, in his words, born knowing how to make money. He started his first job delivering groceries at the age of 10 in Glenville.
In college, he sold chrysanthemums outside of Ohio Stadium and charged fellow students for rides home in the family car. That venture ended when his father was forced to sell the car to make the mortgage payments.
Later, Howard and a partner developed a well-lit commercial parking lot near Cleveland Hopkins airport and staffed it 24-hours a day. The idea caught on quickly and the business spread to airports across the country.
In the Senate, what distinguished Howard Metzenbaum was not his liberalism, which he wore proudly, but his vigilance.
Relentless, determined, inexhaustible, stubborn vigilance.
Howard Metzenbaum was an expert on Senate procedure and a pioneer in creative uses of the filibuster. He would use his expertise to block, alter or delay bills he opposed.
Edward Kennedy remembered him as “a master of using every rule of the Senate to advance the cause of working men and women."
He would even garrison an aide on the Senate floor to keep the lookout for frivolous legislation.
Senator Metzenbaum targeted an endless stream of unaccountable special interest tax breaks and pork-barrel projects.
His crusade against this waste brought him into more than occasional conflict with the likes of Alaska Senator Ted Stevens, who once angrily derided him as a “pain in the ass” after he refused to go along with a big railroad giveaway.
Twenty years of such skirmishes earned him other memorable nicknames too – like “Dr. No” and “Headline Howard.”
In 1982, The Washington Post estimated that Howard Metzenbaum had saved the taxpayers $10 billion in wasteful spending and giveaways.
While his uncompromising style sometimes ruffled feathers, Metzenbaum’s courage earned him the grudging respect of his colleagues on both sides of the aisle.
Democratic Senator David Pryor of Arkansas likened his approach to that of airport security: "You know he's going to X-ray your baggage,” he said, “so you have to be clean."
“The Senate needs someone like Howard Metzenbaum,” Republican Howard Baker conceded. “But only one.”
Howard Betzenbaum’s nagging conscience led him speak out against the Vietnam War.
He marched for civil rights in Selma and felt discrimination in his own life as a result of his Jewish faith.
Yet, when the occasion called for it, he did not hesitate to partner with Strom Thurmond to pass legislation to protect American consumers.
Howard had the ability to breathe fire on the Senate floor one minute and cobble together a successful coalition the next. His record included such landmark legislative victories as the 60-day plant closing requirement, the Brady Bill and nutrition labeling on food.
As Metzenbaum explained it, his was the politics of conviction.
“I’ve proven that one person who is resolute in his or her positions can make a difference in this body,” he told the Columbus Dispatch. “And that you don’t have to go along to get along.”
The same principle helps to illuminate his unlikely success with voters.
In 1988, Ohio hued deep red in a Republican landslide for George H. W. Bush – a political environment that should have spelled certain doom for a liberal, labor lawyer from Cleveland.
But Howard, through words and actions, transcended this narrow dynamic and connected with an electorate who understood that, even though they didn’t always agree with him, he was on their side.
One million conservative-leaning Bush voters crossed over that year and Metzenbaum was re-elected with a strong majority.
Howard’s improbable success left behind a useful political road map for future leaders brave and honest enough to follow it.
The most endearing duality in Howard Metzenbaum’s character was the difference between his public persona and the sweetness he showed his family and close acquaintances.
Howard was a fearsome legislative strategist in the Senate and a storming populist on the campaign trail.
After an impassioned speech at a political rally, he would literally leap off the stage and into the crowd, driving the audience into a great stir.
In debates and negotiations, he sometimes wielded a sharp tongue – and he preferred to be direct.
Howard’s youngest daughter, Amy, once read such an account of her father and found it difficult to believe. She asked the Senator’s secretary, Juanita Powe, if the descriptions held any water.
"I said 'Amy, I'm sorry but it's true,'" Powe told her. “He was tough. But he had a heart of gold."
Away from the battles of the Senate, Howard Metzenbaum’s family saw always the softer side.
A side that placed the happiness of his family above all else.
Howard treasured taking trips with his wife, Shirley, and his daughters, Shelly, Amy, Susan and Barbara.
Their photos covered the walls of his office at the Consumer Federation of America, where he spent his last professional years.
Well into his 80s, he could be found inner-tubing on the ocean with his grandkids.
By any measure, Howard Metzenbaum led a big life – but that’s not what made him a giant.
What made him a giant were the dimensions of his character.
The complementary, not contradictory, sides of…
a legendary advocate for the people of Ohio,
a uniquely American voice in the Senate,
and a champion for underdogs everywhere.
I am proud to honor Howard Morton Metzenbaum today.
