If there was such a thing as a decency index, Jim Abdnor would be off
the charts.
~ Senator Bob Dole
Senator James Abdnor
Eulogy
Delivered by Senator John
Thune
May 19, 2012
This is a sad day for a lot of
people, not the least of which are the members of Jim’s family, who are here
today. But the thing that is so unique
about Jim Abdnor is that we all feel like we’re a part of his family, because
he treated us that way. As I look
around the church today, I see the many faces of Jim’s family. For every person in this room, I’ll bet there
is a story about how Jim adopted you into his family, and it didn’t have
anything to do with how much money you had, or how politically connected you
were, or what your political affiliation was.
Jim was interested in you because, well, you were you, and he just
naturally cared about you as a person.
For me, it was a basketball game in my
home town. Our paths crossed because we had a mutual
love, high school basketball. I still
remember vividly that first encounter after having made 5 of 6 free throws in a
basketball game the night before, meeting Jim on Main Street in Murdo and
having him say “I noticed you missed one last night.” He had no reason to take an interest in a
skinny kid from Murdo. My parents
weren’t involved in politics. In fact,
they were Democrats. He took an interest
in me, like so many others, because he genuinely liked people and wanted to see
them reach their potential. If it were
not for Jim Abdnor, there is no way I could be doing what I’m doing today.
Jim Abdnor didn’t have the flowery
speaking ability that we associate with so many politicians. No, he was blessed with something that
ordinary politicians could only hope for.
He sincerely loved people and possessed a quiet determination and
genuineness of purpose that is so often missing in today’s politics. There was no pretension, no hidden agenda. With Jim Abdnor, what you saw was what you
got. I watched with awe as he moved
comfortably around people in any setting.
He didn’t ask people questions about themselves or their families
because it was expected of him or because politicians are supposed to, he asked
because he cared.
Everything about politics I know that
is good, I learned from Jim Abdnor. And
I will forever be trying to live up to the amazing example he set for those who
would come after. Jim Abdnor reminded us
that it’s not about personal ambition but about the common good, that you can
have a title but that that doesn’t determine your value, and that you can make
a difference without compromising who you are.
Maybe it was the immigrant heritage,
maybe it was the farm background, maybe it was having
to do things the hard way, but there was something special about Jim
Abdnor. There was an understated
charisma about him and an optimism that anything was
possible. He always saw the good in
people. I remember when I first went to
work for him in Washington, I met a staff member who
worked for a Democrat Senator who served with Jim on the Appropriations
Committee. When I told him who I worked
for, the first thing he said to me was that “your boss has got to be the nicest
person on Capitol Hill.” Senator Bob Dole used to say that if there was such a
thing as a decency index, that Jim Abdnor would be off
the charts.
You don’t have to look very deep to
realize that politics can often be a cynical profession, filled with
inauthentic people. Jim Abdnor was the
real deal. He treated the guy who
cleaned his office the same way he treated the President of the United States. Those of us who were fortunate enough to work
with Jim got to see that every single day.
I think I speak for everyone who
worked for Jim when I say that he was someone who was willing to forgive your
screw-ups. One of the reasons people
were so loyal to him was that he was so loyal to them. He made a point of hiring good people, often
young and inexperienced, and giving them a lot of running room. He was the kind of boss who inspired people
around him to be better. It’s often
said of the truly great athletes that they make the players around them
better. I can’t think of a more fitting description
of Jim Abdnor.
And of course, no discussion of
Senator Abdnor would be complete without talking about his trademark. That was his integrity. It wasn’t just an empty word. It was a way of life. He didn’t just talk the talk,
he walked the walk, no matter the consequences.
I still remember vividly the debate on the 1985 Farm Bill. It would have been so easy to vote “no.” It was good politics to vote “no.” Jim voted “yes,” because he believed it was
the right thing to do for South Dakota.
He was attacked over and over for that vote. That same year he voted for
a tough, fiscally responsible budget, for which he was also attacked. It passed by one vote in the United States
Senate, his vote. Either one of those
votes, it could be argued, cost him an election. To Jim Abdnor, doing the right thing mattered
more.
Jim’s integrity didn’t end when he
left the Senate floor. It didn’t apply
to just the big things, it applied to the little things as well. I remember many times playing golf with
Jim. He never shaved strokes and he
never cheated on a lie. In fact, one
time when we were playing Jim hit his tee shot into the rough and next to a
tree. There was no way he could get a
clean shot. He was encouraged by those
of us in his group to move the ball out, away from the tree, where he could get
a clean shot. Instead, he insisted on
hitting the ball where it laid. And, of course,
he had this brand new ginty golf club that was his pride and joy. He used to remind us how much he paid for
it. So he pulls out the ginty and swings
for all he’s worth. He wraps the club
around the tree and snaps it in two.
Jim Abdnor was never one for taking
the short cut, even if it cost him. It
was true in his professional life and his private life. There was no distinction when it came to the
issue of integrity. It was in his DNA.
Jim was a great golf partner, he
always brought his sense of humor with him.
I remember another time golfing, where we had two groups and Jim’s group
teed off ahead of ours. They were off in
the left rough looking for someone’s ball but were so far out of the line of
fire that we decided it was safe for our group to tee off. Well, anyone who’s ever golfed with me knows how awful my
game is and that you are never safely out of the line of fire. So I tee off and hit this blistering line
drive hook, right at Jim. He doesn’t
even see it coming and it drills him right in the chest. Without missing a beat, he says “I got it”.
He’s probably still got a Titleist
imprint on his chest. And I still feel
bad about that one.
I think he forgave me for that.
It’s a good thing Jim was a forgiving
person. About 20 years ago, on the way
to the Minnehaha Lincoln Day Dinner, I stopped to pick Jim up in Kennebec. We hopped into his Lincoln, stopped at the
gas station for a cup of coffee, and started barreling down I90. I put the cruise control on before I realized
that we were on ice, we went into a slide, then a full 360 and ended up in the
ditch on the right side of the road.
Rather than focus on the fact that I had almost killed us, Jim seemed
completely enamored by the fact that the cup of coffee I held in my right hand
hadn’t even spilled a drop through the entire incident. Jim never told me this but I found out later
that the alignment in his car was never quite right after that.
Jim and I didn’t talk about faith all
that often. For Jim, it was a quiet
thing. He believed faith was something
lived more than spoken. Jim lived life by
a set of principles. In the book The
Purpose Driven Life, the best-selling book in the history of the world with the
exception of the Bible, it’s sold over 30 million copies, author Rick Warren
starts with this sentence. “It’s not
about you.” Jim understood that it
wasn’t about him, which I think explained his humility.
Jim also understood the concept of
grace. He showed
grace to me on many occasions when I didn’t deserve it, and I had the
opportunity to observe him express it to many others as well. As we reflect on Jim’s life it’s a good
opportunity to reflect on our own lives.
We will all face death at some point and an encounter with our
maker. The Holy Scriptures make it clear
in the book of Ephesians that “it is by grace we are saved, through faith, and
this not from ourselves, it is the gift of God, not of works, so that no one
can boast.”
The Apostle Paul says in the book of
Romans that “we have all sinned and fallen short of God’s glory,” that “none of
us is righteous, not even one.” And that
“the wages of our sin is death but the gift of God is eternal life in Jesus
Christ our Lord.” It’s up to us to make a decision about whether
to accept or reject that gift. I would
hope that all of us, when confronted with that choice, would say “yes” to God’s
amazing grace through Christ.
As we say goodbye to our friend Jim
Abdnor today, we remember someone who meant so much to
so many people. In his later years, as father
time started wearing him down, his love for people and for the simple things in
life never failed. When I would visit
him at the nursing home, he would take me around the dining room and introduce
me to everyone there, I think just assuming they would all want to meet me. If we found a table that wasn’t interested, he
would just move on to the next one. And
I thought it was especially fitting that the last time I saw him, like the
first time, it was about basketball. I
sat with him in his room as we watched Kentucky play Louisville in the Final
Four. For Jim and me, it ended like it began,
a couple of small town guys, sitting and watching a game we loved, like we had
so many times before over the years.
Jim, I know I speak for the hundreds
of people here today and the thousands who couldn’t make it when I say “thank
you.” Thank you for being a great boss,
a great mentor, a great leader, a great role model, and a great
inspiration. And most of all, thank you
for being our friend. We will miss you
more than you’ll ever know.