Historic Quote:”I have learned the difference between a cactus and a caucus is that with a caucus, the pricks are on the inside.” Ex-Arizona Congressman Mo Udall.
By Scott Crass
With the 113th Congress well under way, a number of freshmen lawmakers in both chambers are preparing to deliver their maiden speeches on the floor. For some, (Elizabeth Warren, Hillary Clinton), the attention and poise comes naturally, so, the hurrah that will accompany it, good or bad, is inevitable. But for others, particularly the many members for whom the limelight is new, there’s awareness that much attention will be given by the member’s constituents and media markets. Further concerns about protocol, and the impression the speech will make, will leave he/or she justifiably nervous.
If one has that fear, they may be wise may to heed a lesson learned by H.R.Gross.
The Iowa Republican, elected in 1948, told a very senior Congressman from Michigan, Claire Hoffman, of his fears. Not to worry Hoffman said. He told Gross, as recounted by the book, Congressional Anecdotes, that he’d be delivering a very long speech on the House floor the next day and that Gross should simply interrupt him with a question. I’ll answer it,’ Hoffman said. Gross was delighted and took Hoffman up. The next day, on cue, he asked Hoffman to yield and posed his question. But he couldn’t have been prepared for the reply. “what possessed gentleman from Iowa to ask such a stupid question?”
Now of course maiden speeches now-a-days refer to talks (hence the term speeches), not simply asking a question. And those were the days when the unwritten rule was that freshmen lawmakers were supposed to be seen and not heard. But Gross got a lesson in humility, one that, given the reaction of the Twittersphere to Rubio and water, would have stung all the more had it been today.
HR Gross (1899-1987) Wiki Photo
In time, Gross clearly learned to master Congressional oratory. Carl Vinson, the mighty Chairman of the House Armed Services committee who served in the body for 50 years, once said “there is really no good debate unless the gentleman from Iowa is in it.” No matter how well liked one is, that’s a pretty valuable reputation to have.
Indeed, Gross was labeled a curmudgeon, prickly fellow who Life Magazine once said “wears loud neckties and a permanently worried expression.” He probably resembles the verse in the “Music Man” song that talks of,”an Iowa kind of special, chip-on-the-shoulder attitude..we could stand touchin’ noses for a week at a time and never see eye-to-eye” (my apologies to Iowans for pointing that out, as now may be a good time to note that I’ve encountered some of the friendliest people on earth in the “Hawkeye State”). But Iowa has long had a reputation for producing contrarians, and on that, Gross certainly did not disappoint.
Bill Kaufman once wrote that Gross “looked as though he ought to be playing the puckered parsimonious accountant pouring cold water on Jimmy Stewart’s dreams in a Frank Capra movie. Kaufman quotes Jerry Ford, who was House Minority Leader during Gross’s later chamber, once spoke of”three parties in the House: Democrats, Republicans, and H. R. Gross.”
In many ways Gross would do his constituents proud, reading every bill that was to be voted on, a feat impossible in the fast-paced Congresses of today. He made a career of railing against wasteful spending that would one day earn him Time Magazine’s moniker “the useful pest.”
But it was Gross’s mission of knowing no boundaries that drove colleagues crazy. He’d demand quorum calls (forcing members to the floor even when no votes were pending) just to conduct routine business. He opposed the Tonkin Gulf Resolution and the bombing of Cambodia, not because of the human cost but the financial. His idiosyncrasies became such that in the LBJ landslide, he kept his seat in a GOP district by a mere 419 votes. But Gross persevered, and stayed in Congress until 1974, following the completion of his 13th term. His colleagues gave he and his wife a paid trip, better known as junkets for which he refused to take.
Now for my famous historical parallels. Who succeeded Gross in office? Charles Grassley, a remarkably like-minded individual right down to the “Iowa Stubborn” who like Gross was a farmer who took up residence in Waterloo, and whose pet-peeve is not oversight on spending but government.
Grassley’s web-site says he “has taken on a sometimes overlooked and many times unglamorous part of a lawmaker’s job,” which often involves investigating misuse, lack of accountability, and loopholes. His quest to make a point has often has led to holds on nominations, and relentless questioning of practices. Protecting “whistleblowers” has long been a pet cause.
Did Grassley get his penchant for the oversight cause from his predecessor? I have a feeling the two just share style more than anything. But it is uncanny and it certainly catches the eye.
In the days following JFK’S assassination, Gross questioned whether Jackie Kennedy should have widow’s protection, as well as, get this, the cost of the eternal flame on the murdered President’s grave. It seems absurd and offensive, much like Grassley’s association with Palin’s death panel assertion (he questioned at one town meeting whether bureaucrats under Obama care may be able to “pull the plug on grandma.”).” As such, Kaufman labeled Gross the “Eternal Flame Thrower.”
Okay, we all know the saying about first impressions. But maybe it’s not your initial speech that is important, it’s how you go about advancing what you’ve spoken about. In that sense, H.R. Gross may not be seen as an ideal philosophical study for everyone. But I still see value in his first verbal encounter on the House floor.
If Gross’s maiden question hadn’t been in 1949, I would say that his JFK inquiry may have been the “stupid question” that he posed. But the lesson stands, and for freshmen, it is vintage wine. When you speak, always be prepared for the answer.