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Reflections of Ken Towery
John Tower in retrospect; One man's thoughts on another.
The more I see of the current crop of Senators, the more I appreciate John Tower. That was not always the case. I was with the Senator, for many years, six years as a member of his staff, and as a friend until his death in an airplane crash in Georgia years later. During that time our association had its ups and downs. Tower was not an easy man to understand. Indeed, I never thought I completely understood him, despite all our years together. He was, on the one hand, an exceedingly strong person. I never knew him to take a political stand, or cast a vote, for positions he did not believe in. I never knew him to take a stand or cast a vote in return for campaign contributions, or even to influence the electoral stance of certain voting blocs. Perhaps he did, but if so it escaped my attention. He was, too, an exceedingly intelligent man. He had, in the broadest sense of the word, an independent liberal mind. (Here, we use the word "liberal" in its classic sense). That made him adopt positions, and cast votes, for what was then called "conservative" issues in the world of politics. On more than one occasion that proclivity found him voting either alone, or in a very small minority within the Senate. Perhaps his vote on the Senate resolution to "censure" Christoffer Dodd would be one illustration. Dodd, a liberal Democratic member from Connecticut was accused of using campaign funds for his own personal use. The Senate created a select committee headed by Senator John Stennis of Mississippi, probably the most respected member of that august body, to examine the situation and report to the full Senate. The verdict? Dodd was guilty, and should be censured by the Senate. The Senate, at that time, felt it had no other means for showing its displeasure for the actions of one of its members. For most members of the Senate, a "yes" vote was a win-win situation. Republicans could vote to censure a liberal Democrat with no impunity. Democrats, in lopsided control of the Senate, would be sore pressed to vote "no" on a resolution to censure one of their own, since the committee that made the recommendation was headed by a respected Democratic Senator, albeit a Southern Democratic Senator. The Senate had not yet arrived at the point where, as it did later with Bill Clinton, members would troop to the floor in lockstep for their partisan champion. Tower was alone in his quandary. He was a Republican, and his Party was completely united in the political benefits of censuring Dodd. Democrats, too, were united in the vote, realizing that any implication of support for Dodd's actions would be politically damaging to their party. I do not remember Tower ever agonizing over a vote more than he did on this. He even called his father, a retired Methodist minister, for advice. (His advice was vote "yes") My own urging was for a "yes" vote. My position was that Dodd was obviously guilty, and the Senate should show its displeasure. But Tower's position was that the Senate had no constitutional authority to do anything but expel one of its members; that it had no constitutional authority to go beyond that. The rest would be, or should be, according to his belief, between the elected official and those who sent him there, or would retain him there. If the people of Connecticut wanted to be represented in the U.S. Senate by a crook, that was their decision. Tower's agonizing over this issue was so deep that none of us knew precisely what his vote would be. In the end he stood alone in the Senate, and his vote was "no." The easier vote would have been "yes," but his own sense of what the Constitution allowed outweighed the politics of the current situation. It would simply have to be a vote he lived with. In a testament to the good sense of his constituents, he did live with it, retiring from the Senate, undefeated, many years later. A couple other illustrations of his makeup: During his first term, when he had doubts about his continued electability as a conservative Republican from a state heavily dominated by Democratic politics, he received a $1,000 check from a woman in Midland, Texas. The check was accompanied by a letter saying she and her husband had never contributed money to a political candidate before, but that they had examined the Senator's record, found it acceptable, and desired to be helpful in his reelection. At that time we were completely destitute, as far as campaign contributions went. In fact, the Senator, at that time (this would have been in early 1964) had not even made the decision to run for reelection, though it was assumed he would. There had been no appeal for campaign contributions, usually a routine matter when gearing up for reelection. I took the letter, and the check, to the Senator, with the suggestion that he write her and thank her for the contribution. The $1,000 was an awful lot of money. It could have been put to good use. His first reaction, however, was to ask if the Midland couple might have financial interest in any matter pending with his office. An examination of all our case files revealed no such interest. In fact, it was the first letter we had ever received from the donor. So, she received a letter from our office thanking her. I wrote it. Tower asked me to. In time, Tower became as adept at fund raising as most Senators. But then he generally left the chore of campaign fund raising to someone else. It was not unusual, during our first run for reelection, for us to gather in a hotel room in Dallas, or Houston, or somewhere, wherein Tower would give a report on matters relating to the Senate to some 10 or 15 Party faithful gathered together by Peter O'Donnell, then the State Republican Party Chairman, whereupon Tower would leave the room, and Peter would exhort the assembled host to the effect that "we've got to support this guy, so dig down." Tower, at that stage, could not bring himself to ask for money. In fact, in his private moments, he seemed to have a deep-seated resentment, bordering on contempt, for those who had money, and upon whom he had to depend for his political career. Perhaps that resentment, if indeed it was present, or if it existed only in my imagination, resulted from his own lack of money and his own penchant for acting as if he did. He, as a former University professor, valued learning far more than he did wealth, and at that stage, gave short shrift to certain wealthy men simply because he found them "boring." I remember vividly one such individual, a ship builder in Orange, Texas, last name Brown. He was a faithful contributor, and, to my knowledge, never asked us for anything in return for his support. He wanted only to visit Washington about once a year, have dinner with the Senator, and return to Orange with a story, for his friends, of "having dinner with the Senator." Except, he seldom had dinner with the Senator. Usually, the chore of having dinner with the shipbuilder was relegated to a staff member. Tower told me the shipbuilder was simply "boring." Had it not been for O'Donnell, Tower would not have survived the first reelection campaign, in my opinion. O'Donnell knew who had money, and who was committed to advancing conservative causes. He also had no compunction about asking for help from those he thought could afford it. In the final analysis the funding of his campaigns in those early years depended upon a few individuals like O'Donnell of Dallas and Albert Fey of Houston, and Raymond Tapp of Lubbock, the Armstrongs of South Texas, people like that, plus a host of "little people" who saw in him someone they wanted to support. Once, during the 1966 campaign, when we were critically short of funds, I wrote an appeal for funds and signed the Senator's name. The appeal brought in something like $186,000. The average contribution was $18 dollars and a few cents. It saw us through. I differed with Tower many times on many occasions, but seldom with his votes on the Senate floor. He had some personal problems, or at least I saw them as personal problems, but in the final analysis, he was a complete patriot. He had a vanity about him. All successful politicians do. They must. But he also had an humbleness about him that caused him to defer to what he regarded as the long term benefit, if not the short term wisdom, of the body politic. That was not always the best political road to take, but his constituents saw in him a sincerity that made his votes understandable and acceptable. And it kept him in the Senate as long as he wanted to stay. I have long felt that I owed the Senator an apology, maybe many apologies. Primarily, I now think I owe him an apology for publicly doubting the reason he gave for not seeking reelection in 1984. He said (publicly, and to me personally) at the time that he was quitting the Senate because that august body was no longer the Senate he had come to know and love during earlier years, when it was peopled by men like Richard Russell of Georgia, John Stennis of Mississippi and Everett Dirksen of Illinois. Now, I can believe him. But then, I thought, I believed, and said publicly his reasons were much more personal, and much closer to home. My feeling was that the real reason he chose not to seek reelection was because of his second wife, Lila Burt Cummings, who had moved into the equation because of his failing marriage with his first wife Lou Bullington, of Witchita Falls, and who had said publicly she intended to run the Senator's next campaign for reelection. He had been very much in love with Lila during earlier years, but clearly their marriage (his second, her third or fourth) was turning sour by the time Tower decided to quit the Senate. Lila Burt Cummings was a dominating woman, and a politically assertive woman. She saw her role as being the Senator's mentor in both personal and political matters. In the early years of their marriage he readily accepted her role. Tower was, during those years, what is now called a "recovering alcoholic." For years, prior to his second marriage, he had consumed more alcohol than was his share. Rightly or wrongly he credited his new wife with straightening out his life. She was most happy to accept that credit. In fact, she demanded it. According to her way of thinking, that credit needed to be constantly reinforced, and forthcoming. She was known to frequently remind others, as well as her husband, of her value in this regard, and what would be his fate were she not around to direct his thoughts and actions. Needless to say, I viewed Lilla much differently than did the Senator at that time. I saw her as a grasping, domineering woman. He saw her, I suppose, as a concerned, sympathetic wife. In time, that marriage too fell apart, and she became his most severe critic and bitter enemy. And, in time, he began to see her as something different from that adoring woman whom he had married a few years earlier. In fact, when Tower was nominated by former President Bush to be Secretary of Defense, Lila went out of her way to assure his defeat at the hands of a Democratic Senate. Even so, Tower never lost his capacity for civility. When Lila was dieing with various afflictions, Tower sent a bouquet of roses to her in her hospital room. She refused to accept the roses. Still, I never heard him say an evil word about her. Perhaps he did, but I never heard it. I was in Amarillo, Texas, at a meeting of the Panhandle Press Association, when word came of the plane crash, in Georgia, that claimed the life of Tower and the daughter we called "Pooh." He had authored a book, primarily dealing with his rejection, by the Senate, of his nomination by Bush to become Secretary of Defense, and the two were on a "promotional" tour. It was, to me, shocking news. He was still young, and had much to offer in the way of knowledge and experience. To me, it was very sad. Our past differences had long since been patched up. His death would have been sad, even if that were not the case. He had even asked me to fill in for him on a speaking date he was forced to alter. (I had to beg off, because of a previous commitment.) He was, in my view a unique individual who served the State of Texas well in the U.S. Senate
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