A Family’s Remembrance of John McCain
If you’re anything like me, the recent passing of Senator John McCain hit you like a ton of bricks. The nation knew this was coming; the kind of cancer he had is incredibly aggressive. The impact didn’t stem from surprise. It came from the raw realization that we haven’t just lost one of the nation’s central political actors — we lost bastion of decency in a field tripping over itself to alienate, castigate, and “own” the other.
I have two initial inclinations when I feel strongly about something: Go for a long run or sit down and write. It might seem a tad schizophrenic, a mind torn between action and passivity, but this is how I have processed things for about as long as I can remember. And the thoughts that formed about the Senator while running only made me want to write about it more.
The thing, though, is what would I write about? The Internet was already filled with stories of his heroism, his passion, his dedication to public service — many accounts came from people who knew him. I never even had the honor of meeting the Senator. What could I add?
I texted these thoughts to my father. As it happens, he and my mother are in DC to celebrate their 25th anniversary. They were planning to witness his procession through the capital. He responded back:
“You can never honor a hero too much. Any tribute is never redundant.”
He was right. So here I am.
This is not a normal column for me. Normally when I write about politics, I do everything I can to analyze a situation objectively, dispassionately, to be open to changing my mind. (I admit that I am far from being always successful). But I’m not talking about poll results, voting patterns, things we can induce from history, or other aggregate phenomenon. Today, I am talking about a single man. And I find that, especially in this case, I cannot do so with the same distance. So, instead, I’m going to own that. This is a subjective account. My account. And I hope that by imbuing it with what my parents observed, I might not only be able to express what Senator McCain meant to me, some kid thousands of miles away from the state he served for decades. I might be able to impress the widespread impact he had in general.
The first time I had ever heard of John McCain, it was late summer of 2008. I had just started my freshman year of High School. To be fair, I hadn’t heard of Barack Obama until then either. I had vague memories of 2004, vaguer still of 2000. This was the first political contest that I would be aware of and engaged in. And I was certainly aware and engaged. It was a good thing that I wanted to be because I wouldn’t have had a choice either way. My debate teacher would pre-record the debates and make us watch so that we could trace out their arguments. I remember, more or less, one of the comments I scribbled down about their first debate: “Senator Obama argues very eloquently and passionately, but Senator McCain lets far fewer points go. I think McCain won today. Hopefully he wins in November.”
I wanted him to win. He didn’t, obviously. My family and I was severely disappointed when he lost, but we were proud at the kind of class he demonstrated in his concession speech. I’m even more so now, several years distanced from the naive belief that this was simply how politicians acted when something didn’t go their way.
In hindsight, much of my desire for him to win derived from my identity as a Republican. Although I certainly thought otherwise at 14, I had nowhere enough of an idea of how the world worked to adequately judge the merits of either his or President Obama’s positions. I just knew that I like both of them well-enough — but I liked McCain a lot more. So, as I matured, and as Senator McCain remained a mainstay in American politics, my views of him matured as well. I learned some things, and my views evolved accordingly.
- I learned that he voted against the establishment of a federal holiday in remembrance of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. That didn’t sit well with me. I have always felt that Dr. King’s message of equality for all Americans was unequivocally correct. He was, and is, a man worthy of remembrance.
- I learned about how he, being a prisoner of war, vehemently disagreed with the usage of torture. His consistent, principled rejections of the idea strongly shaped my own opinion on the topic. It’s not a question of prioritizing (what will end up being shoddy) information. It’s about respect for basic human dignity.
- I learned how he stood up to bigotry during town hall sessions in 2008, albeit in a way that is (by his own admission) problematic. Still, the drive to repudiate such clear and repugnant racism is refreshing given how rare that is becoming within his own party.
But what I learned, more frequently than anything else, was that Senator McCain was primarily driven by a desire to do right by his country. If necessary, he would stand against his party. He would stand against his friends. He would even vote to preserve something that he vehemently disagreed with if it meant preserving the kinds of political institutions that made our 230 year experiment in self-government possible.
I am, of course, talking about his historic vote to block the GOP’s repeal of the Affordable Care Act. Many people cheered him on as he dramatically cast his thumb down since it would mean that the law would stay in effect. I was happy that he did so, too — although I am far more ambivalent towards the ACA than many of the other celebrants. What I was happy about, as he made clear in his statement on the topic, was that we had a Senator who recognized how the founders foresaw the Senate as operating. One who was committed to preserving that vision. One who recognized the value of the process and sought effective governance — not governance that just so happened to gel with his ideological beliefs.
Our nation has only managed to survive because of the willingness of our politicians to maintain our system of checks and balances. Including the Senate’s check on the House, the former designed to be a more thorough and deliberative body to temper the more populous pressures of the latter. We have, in short, only survived thanks to the service of people like John McCain.
As I formulated these observations, I got another message from my Dad followed by a picture from my Mom. It was threatening to rain but people were lining up for miles to pay their respects.
“Very interesting looking at the demographics of the line of people waiting to pay [their] final respects. It’s not just old White conservative males.”
I started this Op-Ed with the line “if you’re anything like me.” But my father’s words and mother’s photos made me realize that I was wrong. You don’t have to be anything like me to feel impacted by Senator McCain’s passing because he spent his entire life serving people of all kinds. I’m not the only one to recognize his nuanced legacy, and to see the common thread of sincere service to the country underlying it all. I’m not the only one to be inspired by him despite some (or several) political disagreements. If you looked at the people who attended his memorial in DC this last weekend, you saw a variety of people from all walks of life and political beliefs. (Shoot, both George W. Bush and Barack Obama gave eulogies honoring him). Because that’s what we, as a nation, are. An amazing amalgam of all kinds of folk. A nation bound together by ideals of equality. And Senator McCain not only saw that, he sought to do everything he could to preserve it.
He once said that all he wanted to be remembered as was a man who serve his country. “And, hopefully” he added, “with distinction.”
I believe he has earned that and more.
Peter R. Licari is a PhD student in Political Science at the University of Florida specializing in American Politics, Political Behavior, and Political Methodology. The opinions expressed are his own. He can also be found on YouTube and on Twitter(@prlitics13). What little spare time remains is dedicated to long-distance running, video games with his ever-patient wife, and to oddly productive one-sided conversations with his cat, Asia.
