Rep. Steny Hoyer Announces Retirement

Mr. Scalise, where is my one minute when I need it? Mr. Speaker, my dear and close friend Steve Womack, Madam Speaker, thank you for being here. My colleagues, my dear friends, Mr. Scalise, the Majority Leader, and Mr. Emmer, the Majority Whip, thank you for being here. Mr. Speaker, I rise today with obviously mixed emotions and reluctant conviction. There's a true story I've told many times over the past 60 years. It's about a young man, myself, who was a student at the University of Maryland, College Park, just a few miles from this place. As a freshman, like many young people, I lacked a vision for my future. I nearly flunked out of college and didn't even enroll in the 1958 fall semester. Fortunately for me, I re-enrolled the following spring. There was a spring convocation, April 27, 1959. Classes were canceled from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. so that we could all go hear the guest speaker. Frankly, I had planned not to attend. However, I was walking up the hill near Coldfield House, where the event was located, and I saw our guest drive up in a 1958 Pontiac convertible. That, Mr. Speaker, was a cool car. So cool that I decided to go to this convocation. That walk was my road to Damascus. It changed my life. The speaker was John F. Kennedy. In his remarks, he urged us to do our duty in those days of world chaos. In particular, he charged us students to become more active in our communities. Nancy heard those same words. Like many hundreds of thousands of young people, I was deeply inspired by Senator Kennedy and his words. Jack Kemp, who was my colleague when I first came here, had a similar story. A week later, I changed my major from business to political science. Seven years later, in 1966, five months out of Georgetown Law School, I was elected to the Maryland State Senate. Fifteen years after that, in 1981, the voters of the Fifth District elected me to the United States House of Representatives. I stand here now after some 60 years in public service, including nearly 45 years as a member of this House. I've won elections and lost a couple, celebrated triumphs and suffered setbacks, enjoyed friendships and endured hardships. As the song says, some days are diamonds, some days are stone. Happily, I've experienced more diamonds than stone. Shakespeare advised us all, this above all else, to thine own self be true. And it must follow as night to day, thou canst not be false to any man or to any woman. In that vein, Mr. Speaker, I have decided not to seek another term in the People's House. I make this decision with sadness, for I love this House, an institution the framers designed to reflect the will of the American people and to serve as the guardian of their liberty and their democracy. Through the past 45 years, I have come to know many good, decent, patriotic members chosen by their neighbors to represent them. They come from both parties and all parts of the ideological spectrum. The Congress I entered in in 1981 was somewhat different. Most Republicans and Democrats worked together in a collegial, productive way. The leaders of the House, Tip O'Neill and Bob Michael, fostered that environment. It was, of course, not a Congress without conflict. In the year to come, I will have much more to say about the issues we have grappled with and the ways this House has changed during my time. At the outset, I said that I spoke with reluctant conviction. That reluctance is because I am deeply concerned that this House is not living up to the founders' goals. I urge my colleagues on both sides of the aisle to examine their conscience, renew their courage, and carry out the responsibilities that the first article of the Constitution demands. Only in that way can we ensure that our 250 years will be a preface to a stronger, brighter beacon in a free and principled democracy. A nation of laws, not of men. A nation respected around the world for its strength, certainly, but even more for the ideals it represents and the justice with which it acts. That effort must extend beyond this House. I fear that America is heading not toward greatness, but toward smallness, pettiness, divisiveness, lawlessness, and disdainfulness. We must respect and love one another. We must remember that we are not great or unique because we say we're great, but because we are just, generous, and fair. I hope that spirit can guide us the rest of this Congress, because I still have much I want to do in the coming year, not least of which is keeping the government open. To do that, we must send all our appropriations bills to the President in a bipartisan, timely fashion. There are many people I intend to thank in the coming months. There are few I will recognize now. First, to my family, which has borne much of the burden of my service. Stand up, family. Thank you so much. My late wife, Judy, who died too young and gave so much. My beloved daughters, Susan, Stephanie, and Ann, who paid a price for Dad's absences. To my grandchildren and great-grandchildren, for giving me great joy. My mother, who thankfully lived to see her son become the President of the Maryland State Senate. To my staff, for serving me and their nation with great loyalty and ability. To my colleagues, for trusting me with leadership. To the people of Prince George's County, particularly the African-American community, without whom I would not have won my election. To the people of the Fifth District, who gave me a majority of their votes 23 times. And to my wife, Dr. Elaine Kamar, who has made my life whole and happy. Thank you, babe. And to God, for sending me down this road so many years ago that I call the road to Damascus. I want to thank all of my colleagues. Extraordinary people. Decent people. People whom their neighbors respect and sent them here. The only way you got here was your neighbors said they wanted you to represent them. Thank you all. Mr. Speaker, with tremendous gratitude, I yield back.