Saturday, March 12, 2005
Voting Bill Leads to Walkout in Ga. Senate
ATLANTA (AP)
The state Senate's Democratic caucus, led by the chamber's black members, walked out of the Legislature Friday after an emotional vote on voting rights.
Immediately after a 7 p.m. vote that would eliminate 12 of the 17 forms of identification that may be used at Georgia polls, a majority of Senate Democrats, including all black members, left the chamber.
"This is wrong!" Sen. Vincent Fort, D-Atlanta, shouted before the exit. "We will not go back."
All but one other member of the Democratic caucus left shortly afterward. Most Democrats returned to the chamber about 25 minutes later.
"We wanted to at least show them we support them," said Sen. Michael Meyer Von Bremen, D-Albany.
Republican sponsors of the bill said it was an effort to cut down on voter fraud.
"My intention was to make sure in Georgia that next election, or down the road, we don't end up with all the lawsuits or all the voter irregularities we've heard about," said Sen. Cecil Staton, R-Macon, the bill's sponsor.
The bill, which passed 32-22 along party lines, would require a photo ID to vote.
It would remove other forms of ID, including a Social Security card, birth certificate or student identification, from the list.
Democratic critics compared the effort to the poll taxes, literacy tests and other laws aimed at suppressing black votes during segregation. They said poor and minority voters are more likely to be without photo ID than other voters.
"What's happening today is just an updated form of Jim Crow," said Fort, referring to segregation-era laws that suppressed black voting. "You may be more polite about it ... but we know who's going to be disenfranchised."
In an emotional speech, Sen. Kasim Reed, D-Atlanta, shouted that senators were "stabbing race relations in the heart" by pushing the plan.
Staton said the bill allows anyone, even non-drivers, to apply for a state ID card from Georgia's motor vehicles department. He said people who can't afford one may request one for free.
Friday was the 30th day of the Legislature's 40-day session. By unofficial agreement, it is the last day a bill must pass at least one chamber to be considered by the other.
The House was expected to consider a similar bill Friday night. Several black Democrats in that chamber had left, but no organized walkout had occured by shortly before 8 p.m.
The state Senate's Democratic caucus, led by the chamber's black members, walked out of the Legislature Friday after an emotional vote on voting rights.
Immediately after a 7 p.m. vote that would eliminate 12 of the 17 forms of identification that may be used at Georgia polls, a majority of Senate Democrats, including all black members, left the chamber.
"This is wrong!" Sen. Vincent Fort, D-Atlanta, shouted before the exit. "We will not go back."
All but one other member of the Democratic caucus left shortly afterward. Most Democrats returned to the chamber about 25 minutes later.
"We wanted to at least show them we support them," said Sen. Michael Meyer Von Bremen, D-Albany.
Republican sponsors of the bill said it was an effort to cut down on voter fraud.
"My intention was to make sure in Georgia that next election, or down the road, we don't end up with all the lawsuits or all the voter irregularities we've heard about," said Sen. Cecil Staton, R-Macon, the bill's sponsor.
The bill, which passed 32-22 along party lines, would require a photo ID to vote.
It would remove other forms of ID, including a Social Security card, birth certificate or student identification, from the list.
Democratic critics compared the effort to the poll taxes, literacy tests and other laws aimed at suppressing black votes during segregation. They said poor and minority voters are more likely to be without photo ID than other voters.
"What's happening today is just an updated form of Jim Crow," said Fort, referring to segregation-era laws that suppressed black voting. "You may be more polite about it ... but we know who's going to be disenfranchised."
In an emotional speech, Sen. Kasim Reed, D-Atlanta, shouted that senators were "stabbing race relations in the heart" by pushing the plan.
Staton said the bill allows anyone, even non-drivers, to apply for a state ID card from Georgia's motor vehicles department. He said people who can't afford one may request one for free.
Friday was the 30th day of the Legislature's 40-day session. By unofficial agreement, it is the last day a bill must pass at least one chamber to be considered by the other.
The House was expected to consider a similar bill Friday night. Several black Democrats in that chamber had left, but no organized walkout had occured by shortly before 8 p.m.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
If Congress had 435 Tillie Kidd Fowlers
Matt Towery - Townhall
If politics is a question of balance, then Tillie Fowler was the answer.
The mourning for the just-deceased former congresswoman from Florida has reached deep into the halls of the U.S. Capitol and far across America. The 62-year-old Fowler was a political superhero; an antidote to the epidemic cynicism that surrounds the political process.
Sen. Elizabeth Dole of North Carolina was particularly devastated by the loss. Fowler once served with Dole at the U.S. Office of Consumer Affairs. Their days together made them close, and no wonder. Fowler's grace, strength, humor and integrity could only have reminded Dole of her own husband, former U.S. Sen. Bob Dole of Kansas. Like him, Fowler believed in the aptness of the political process as an extension of the worthiness of people.
Both Bob Dole and Fowler could laugh at themselves. I recall during the presidential campaign of 1996 that Dole appeared at a Republican National Convention private meeting and right away declared with a grin, "We're really going to get our butts kicked, aren't we?" He was referring to the upcoming election with Bill Clinton. And yet during the campaign, Dole displayed a fiery zeal in fighting for his beliefs.
Fowler displayed that same admirable sense of proportion. Like Bob Dole, she could rise up in righteous anger when she believed that government could -- and should -- help right a wrong.
I knew Tillie Fowler, but that is no claim to glory. If you were involved in the early days of the Republican Party's ascendance in the Sun Belt during the early 1990s, you were bound to know her.
She came from a prominent political family in Georgia. Her father, Culver Kidd, was a Georgia state senator. Her brother Rusty also made a name for himself. Neither outdistanced the lady of the family.
She won a congressional seat in north Florida in 1992, heading to Washington one term prior to the proclaimed "Republican Revolution." That's significant because the GOP's "Contract With America" appeared in 1994. And the only critical part of that contract that never became law was mandatory term limits for those in the House or Representatives and the Senate.
Never mind. Tillie Fowler imposed term limits on herself. She went into office having proclaimed that "Eight is Enough" -- that she would voluntarily leave Congress after serving four terms.
When the election of 2000 rolled around, Fowler was nothing less than the most powerful woman in Congress. Her political career was posed to ignite the afterburners and soar into the stratosphere of national media renown.
No matter. She refused to turn back on her pledge. She walked away from the power and the glory.
Isn't that always the way? The one person we wish would renege on a promise in order to benefit society as a whole is the same person who won't back away from a political pledge. As lengthy as the roll of Fowler's impressive accomplishments runs, nothing illustrates her political worthiness like this walking away from the limelight. And that's what makes this more than just another eulogy for a colleague now gone. Her example is important to all Americans. We can see by it that politicians can be what politicians should be. And that integrity is as integrity does.
Widespread support for forced term limits seems to be faltering. A single but significant example happened in Texas, where Republicans removed support for term limits from their state party platform.
The reasons for the distaste for mandatory term limits aren't always cynical or selfish. For example, calls for voluntary term limits have won more responses from Republicans than from Democrats, according to the National Center for Policy Analysis. Many Republicans fear that if they step down, they are doing little more than unilaterally handing over power to the Democrats.
The best one can say is that each case is different. If we could truly trust our elected officials to make the wise choice when the time comes, then laws regulating term limits would be completely unnecessary.
In short, if Congress had 435 Tillie Fowlers and the Senate 100 of her kind, we could all rest easy -- as a deserving Tillie Fowler rests today.
If politics is a question of balance, then Tillie Fowler was the answer.
The mourning for the just-deceased former congresswoman from Florida has reached deep into the halls of the U.S. Capitol and far across America. The 62-year-old Fowler was a political superhero; an antidote to the epidemic cynicism that surrounds the political process.
Sen. Elizabeth Dole of North Carolina was particularly devastated by the loss. Fowler once served with Dole at the U.S. Office of Consumer Affairs. Their days together made them close, and no wonder. Fowler's grace, strength, humor and integrity could only have reminded Dole of her own husband, former U.S. Sen. Bob Dole of Kansas. Like him, Fowler believed in the aptness of the political process as an extension of the worthiness of people.
Both Bob Dole and Fowler could laugh at themselves. I recall during the presidential campaign of 1996 that Dole appeared at a Republican National Convention private meeting and right away declared with a grin, "We're really going to get our butts kicked, aren't we?" He was referring to the upcoming election with Bill Clinton. And yet during the campaign, Dole displayed a fiery zeal in fighting for his beliefs.
Fowler displayed that same admirable sense of proportion. Like Bob Dole, she could rise up in righteous anger when she believed that government could -- and should -- help right a wrong.
I knew Tillie Fowler, but that is no claim to glory. If you were involved in the early days of the Republican Party's ascendance in the Sun Belt during the early 1990s, you were bound to know her.
She came from a prominent political family in Georgia. Her father, Culver Kidd, was a Georgia state senator. Her brother Rusty also made a name for himself. Neither outdistanced the lady of the family.
She won a congressional seat in north Florida in 1992, heading to Washington one term prior to the proclaimed "Republican Revolution." That's significant because the GOP's "Contract With America" appeared in 1994. And the only critical part of that contract that never became law was mandatory term limits for those in the House or Representatives and the Senate.
Never mind. Tillie Fowler imposed term limits on herself. She went into office having proclaimed that "Eight is Enough" -- that she would voluntarily leave Congress after serving four terms.
When the election of 2000 rolled around, Fowler was nothing less than the most powerful woman in Congress. Her political career was posed to ignite the afterburners and soar into the stratosphere of national media renown.
No matter. She refused to turn back on her pledge. She walked away from the power and the glory.
Isn't that always the way? The one person we wish would renege on a promise in order to benefit society as a whole is the same person who won't back away from a political pledge. As lengthy as the roll of Fowler's impressive accomplishments runs, nothing illustrates her political worthiness like this walking away from the limelight. And that's what makes this more than just another eulogy for a colleague now gone. Her example is important to all Americans. We can see by it that politicians can be what politicians should be. And that integrity is as integrity does.
Widespread support for forced term limits seems to be faltering. A single but significant example happened in Texas, where Republicans removed support for term limits from their state party platform.
The reasons for the distaste for mandatory term limits aren't always cynical or selfish. For example, calls for voluntary term limits have won more responses from Republicans than from Democrats, according to the National Center for Policy Analysis. Many Republicans fear that if they step down, they are doing little more than unilaterally handing over power to the Democrats.
The best one can say is that each case is different. If we could truly trust our elected officials to make the wise choice when the time comes, then laws regulating term limits would be completely unnecessary.
In short, if Congress had 435 Tillie Fowlers and the Senate 100 of her kind, we could all rest easy -- as a deserving Tillie Fowler rests today.
Sunday, March 06, 2005
Tillie Kidd Fowler: A Tribute
The former Congresswoman was always steadfast and loyal. Her death reminds us how rare that is in today’s poisoned and partisan political arena.
Newsweek -By Eleanor Clift-For Complete Article (Click Here)
There is a picture of Tillie Fowler at age six standing on the desk of the legendary Georgia governor Herman Talmadge as her father, another Georgia legend known as “Silver Fox,” proudly looks on.
Fowler was born into politics. Her father, Culver Kidd (Of Milledgeville Ga.), a lifelong Democrat, served 40 years in the state legislature before he was defeated at age 78. He lived to see his prized daughter elected to Congress in 1992, but he never reconciled to the fact that she became a Republican.
Maybe it was her family heritage, but Fowler was a Republican who hearkened back to an earlier time, when our politics were not so partisan and poisonous. She was expansive and inclusive, fiercely loyal to friends on both sides of the aisle, and a committed feminist.
She wasn’t known around the country, but in Washington, especially among the community of women active in pressing women’s issues, she was a popular and familiar figure who could be counted on when it mattered.
Fowler was one of only a few Republican women active in the Congressional women’s caucus, and she tried (unsuccessfully) to get her party to moderate its position on abortion. “Enough is enough,” she counseled when the GOP scheduled more than a hundred votes to restrict reproductive rights in the Congress led by Speaker Newt Gingrich.
Her story was emblematic of women a generation ago entering the political arena. She agonized about the impact on her family, consulting her pediatrician and her preacher before running for the city council in Jacksonville, Fla., where her husband is a tax attorney.
When a Congressional seat looked promising after the 1990 redistricting, Fowler spent six months studying the pros and cons of the job. She flew to Washington to consult with other women lawmakers about how to balance a Congressional career with her responsibilities as a wife and mother.
The older of her two daughters was in college by then and got exasperated with her mother’s diligent decision-making. Running for Congress was a no-brainer, she said. “Mom, you should have done it before.”
Fowler’s signature issue was term limits. She campaigned on the pledge, “Eight is enough,” meaning she would step down after four terms. When her time was up in 2000, she must have felt like Cinderella at the ball with the clock about to strike midnight just when she was coming into her own as a legislator.
She was then the only Republican woman serving on the House Armed Services committee, and when the Army was charged with sexual harassment, she was given a lead role in the investigation.
Her expertise on defense matters was not limited to gender issues, and she earned respect as an authority on a range of military issues. Suspecting that she may be having second thoughts about keeping her pledge to leave office after eight years, an advocacy group for term limits taunted her with ads calling her “Slick Tillie.”
But Fowler kept her commitment, announcing early in 2000 that she would retire. Her steadfastness is one of the qualities for which she will be remembered. She took principled stands and stuck to them, a rarity in today’s politics. She took no money from the tobacco industry; her mother was dying of lung cancer. She also refused contributions from the National Rifle Association, another major backer of GOP officeholders.
Prim and proper with dark, coiffed hair and oversized glasses, Fowler looked like the Junior League President she once was. Nothing about her said radical or feminist or women’s libber, yet she was an unabashed cheerleader for getting more women into politics, and for championing issues the sisterhood cares about.
As the politics around her grew more partisan and poisonous, she held her ground. She had become friendly with a number of Democrats through her active participation on the Congressional women’s caucus, and she wouldn’t campaign against incumbents she had a working relationship with. “I can’t sit next to them one day and campaign against them the next. If I’m your friend, then I’m your friend.”
Newsweek -By Eleanor Clift-For Complete Article (Click Here)
There is a picture of Tillie Fowler at age six standing on the desk of the legendary Georgia governor Herman Talmadge as her father, another Georgia legend known as “Silver Fox,” proudly looks on.
Fowler was born into politics. Her father, Culver Kidd (Of Milledgeville Ga.), a lifelong Democrat, served 40 years in the state legislature before he was defeated at age 78. He lived to see his prized daughter elected to Congress in 1992, but he never reconciled to the fact that she became a Republican.
Maybe it was her family heritage, but Fowler was a Republican who hearkened back to an earlier time, when our politics were not so partisan and poisonous. She was expansive and inclusive, fiercely loyal to friends on both sides of the aisle, and a committed feminist.
She wasn’t known around the country, but in Washington, especially among the community of women active in pressing women’s issues, she was a popular and familiar figure who could be counted on when it mattered.
Fowler was one of only a few Republican women active in the Congressional women’s caucus, and she tried (unsuccessfully) to get her party to moderate its position on abortion. “Enough is enough,” she counseled when the GOP scheduled more than a hundred votes to restrict reproductive rights in the Congress led by Speaker Newt Gingrich.
Her story was emblematic of women a generation ago entering the political arena. She agonized about the impact on her family, consulting her pediatrician and her preacher before running for the city council in Jacksonville, Fla., where her husband is a tax attorney.
When a Congressional seat looked promising after the 1990 redistricting, Fowler spent six months studying the pros and cons of the job. She flew to Washington to consult with other women lawmakers about how to balance a Congressional career with her responsibilities as a wife and mother.
The older of her two daughters was in college by then and got exasperated with her mother’s diligent decision-making. Running for Congress was a no-brainer, she said. “Mom, you should have done it before.”
Fowler’s signature issue was term limits. She campaigned on the pledge, “Eight is enough,” meaning she would step down after four terms. When her time was up in 2000, she must have felt like Cinderella at the ball with the clock about to strike midnight just when she was coming into her own as a legislator.
She was then the only Republican woman serving on the House Armed Services committee, and when the Army was charged with sexual harassment, she was given a lead role in the investigation.
Her expertise on defense matters was not limited to gender issues, and she earned respect as an authority on a range of military issues. Suspecting that she may be having second thoughts about keeping her pledge to leave office after eight years, an advocacy group for term limits taunted her with ads calling her “Slick Tillie.”
But Fowler kept her commitment, announcing early in 2000 that she would retire. Her steadfastness is one of the qualities for which she will be remembered. She took principled stands and stuck to them, a rarity in today’s politics. She took no money from the tobacco industry; her mother was dying of lung cancer. She also refused contributions from the National Rifle Association, another major backer of GOP officeholders.
Prim and proper with dark, coiffed hair and oversized glasses, Fowler looked like the Junior League President she once was. Nothing about her said radical or feminist or women’s libber, yet she was an unabashed cheerleader for getting more women into politics, and for championing issues the sisterhood cares about.
As the politics around her grew more partisan and poisonous, she held her ground. She had become friendly with a number of Democrats through her active participation on the Congressional women’s caucus, and she wouldn’t campaign against incumbents she had a working relationship with. “I can’t sit next to them one day and campaign against them the next. If I’m your friend, then I’m your friend.”
