Caroline Rabbitt (202) 224-2353
I join my colleagues and all Arkansans in support of and prayers for the people of southeast Texas and all the victims of Hurricane Harvey. But I also want to express our thanks on behalf of a grateful nation. All of you reminded us of the American spirit at a time when we needed it pretty badly.
August wasn't an easy month for our country. First in Charlottesville, then in Berkeley, we saw some pretty disgusting things: racism, anarchism, and mob violence. If all you knew of America was what you saw on cable news and social media, you might think it was disintegrating into two armed camps of communists and neo-Nazis. Images reminiscent of dark days in the last century appeared on our screens: torchlight marches, black-masked thugs, political violence in the street, beatings and even murder.
But none of these contemptible people represent America, certainly not what is best about America. They can't even begin to understand what makes this country great-because this country's destiny was always to be more than a new battleground for old hatreds.
It was meant to be a mighty fortress for the rights of all Americans. Our destiny is to be the home of mankind's aspiration for freedom-not the twisted delusions of grandeur of pathetic losers. The vast majority of Americans, of whatever color, faith, age, or region, celebrate this creed and welcome this destiny.
And that's exactly why we shouldn't amplify irrelevant, fringe voices. It creates the illusion that a trivial, impotent minority is, in fact, a large and powerful movement, against the dictates of common sense and experience. To my knowledge, I've never met a neo-Nazi, a white supremacist, or a left-wing anarchist in my life-and nor have the Arkansans to whom I spoke last month. But you'd think they number in the tens of millions while watching TV or surfing the web in the last month. The drive for ratings and clicks seemed to leave a lot of Americans wondering, "Is this America? Is this who we've become?"
And then Hurricane Harvey made landfall. The stories and images that followed once again proved the old maxim: adversity doesn't teach character, it reveals character. And what it revealed is an American spirit as strong, as brave, and as loving as ever.
Law-enforcement and other first responders performed bravely and skillfully, as always-but what was striking was how ordinary citizens answered the call to duty. There was Jim McIngvale, better known as Mattress Mack. Anyone who's ever lived in Houston knows you can't watch TV without seeing a Mattress Mack commercial. But Mack wasn't selling mattresses that day; he was saving families. He turned two furniture stores into relief centers and opened his doors to anyone seeking shelter. Soon, he had 400 people at each store, sleeping on recliners, sofas, love seats, you name it. He gave out his personal cell number for people to call for help. And if they couldn't reach his store because of the flooding, he sent his delivery trucks to go get them. Asked about his generosity, Mattress Mack replied, "I'm a big believer that it's better to give than to take."
But not everyone had Mattress Mack to go to-some people had to call their local Chick-fil-A. Jeffrey Urban went to work just to make sure everything was all right when he noticed a familiar phone number flashing across the caller ID. It was J.C. Spencer, a regular customer, who called that morning to place a once-in-a-lifetime order: two grilled chicken burritos with extra egg-and a boat. Urban called the owner, Cindy Smith, who sent her husband with his boat to the Spencers' home. But there wasn't enough room in the boat for both them and their possessions. But luckily, two heroes on jet skis arrived: Keith Christensen and Winston Savice, Jr. When J.C. took a photo of his wife, Karen, sitting atop a jet ski while Winston sped her to safety, an Internet sensation was born.
After weeks of our living rooms being filled with the sounds and imagery of hatred, we were suddenly overcome with stories of bravery and self-sacrifice. There was the local reporter Brandi Smith who flagged down a rescue crew to help a truck driver trapped in his vehicle. There was the Houston SWAT officer, Daryl Hudeck, who carried a young mother, Catherine Pham, and her 13-month-old son, Aiden, to dry land. There was a Catholic priest, David Bergeron, who kayaked around his neighborhood offering to say Mass for anyone in town. And then there was an unknown man from Texas City, who when asked what he was doing with his boat under a flooded underpass, said he and his friends were there "to save some lives."
So many of these images have already become iconic: sheriff's deputy Rick Johnson carrying two children through the flood waters, the Cajun Navy from Louisiana lined up on a highway, like soldiers readying for battle. But perhaps the most telling image of all was the human chain. When Andrea Smith went into labor in her flooded apartment, her neighbors formed a human chain to help her reach a dump truck that had come to take her to the hospital. There was no pride of place, no rank, no distinction. Just humble, selfless Americans, joining hands to help a neighbor in need.
You could say that human chain was a symbol-because when you take a step back and soak it all in, you realize that this is America. This is who we are as a nation. Not those ideological zealots, not racists and communists. Their blinded eyes cannot see the dignity and love in that unbroken human chain.
Though we've never lost this spirit of America, we do occasionally lose sight of it, which is why we ought to pay tribute to these normal, public-spirited Americans-the people in that human chain, the people who heeded the call, who put their stranded countrymen first. They didn't mistake malice for power, and they understand the greatest power of all is love. They're an inspiration to all of us here in this chamber-and indeed to all the world. And they're the reason we can look to Houston, a city much embattled though not embittered, and take pride in what we see: not human devastation, but human valor.
