Remarks by Sen. Bob Dole

Whoever said you can't go home again has never called Kansas home. Well, I do Ð and I can hardly return to this place without reflecting on all that has transpired in the sixty years since I arrived here for the first time. Needless to say, I didn't get here on my own. Like just about every one of today's students, I got to KU because of parents who sacrificed, friends who encouraged and teachers who inspired. Not to mention the banker in Russell who loaned me $300 and bought me the hat because it would make me look more serious.

In a sense, Bob (Hemenway), the Dole Institute is compensation for my earlier academic career, and I understand my transcript will be placed in the cornerstone of this building and not revealed for 100 years. In the 1942-1943 period the world beyond Lawrence seemed remote, for some of us and the idea that the Class of '45 might one day be dubbed the Greatest Generation would have seemed as foreign to us as the islands around Pearl Harbor or the Italian mountain passes in which I came of age.

While I appreciate the compliment, I've never thought we were greater than any other generation. It's just that we were unexpectedly called upon to face some of the greatest challenges in our nation's history. In Lincoln's words, the occasion was piled high with difficulty, and we rose to the occasion. But so has every generation of Americans when challenged to defend freedom and make good on democracy's promise. This afternoon we meet in another time of testing. As recent events have demonstrated all too graphically, you don't have to storm a beach to be a hero. Heroes come in all colors and creeds. They speak with many accents. They pray in many tongues. But this much they have in common: they put service before self. They assure our safety by forgetting their own.

Some of them wear the uniforms of the New York City police and fire departments. Others were civilians trapped in airborne terror above western Pennsylvania, yet willing to surrender their own lives to foil the murderous plans of terrorist hijackers. Still others were in the Pentagon, a building as indestructible as the patriotism of the men and women who work there. And there are the quiet heroes: the rescue teams putting their own lives at risk. The teachers who threw a loving embrace around their students, and hustled toddlers and teenagers alike to safety. The Red Cross workers ministering to those wounded in body or soul. The soft-spoken medics of Pakistani or Egyptian or Sikh lineage, who did what every American did on first hearing the news Ð they took a deep breath and then they rushed to help.

Those who did this to America don't know America. How could the death squads who indiscriminately murdered citizens of 80 nations possibly understand Sharon Schultz and her husband, Karamo Trerra. As reported by the Wall Street Journal, Karamo, who worked on the 97th floor of the World Trade Center, came to this country from Gambia, a small nation in western Africa. He was a devout Muslim, who prayed five times a day and regularly read the Koran in Arabic.

His wife, Sharon, is the daughter of a Long Island psychologist. She happens to be Jewish. On September 12, they would have celebrated their fourth wedding anniversary. The love that brought Sharon and Karamo together is infinitely greater than the hate which has separated them in this life. Indeed, if there is a golden thread that runs throughout the tapestry of our nationhood, it is the dignity of every life, the possibility of every mind, the divinity of every soul. This is what my generation fought for on distant fields of battle. This is what each succeeding generation of Americans takes for its mission and its mandate.

Even before the acrid clouds had cleared from lower Manhattan, Americans began to see ourselves more clearly than at any time in memory. Transformed by tragedy, we are not the same people who went to work on the morning of September 11, when lampposts were only lampposts, not makeshift shrines emblazoned with the pictures of missing loved ones. Overnight, strangers have become friends, and friends have become family. Our leaders have more than risen to the occasion, beginning with President Bush, whose eloquent words have been matched by a steadiness of purpose and strategic shrewdness. The same holds true for the leaders of both parties in Congress and elsewhere. In appealing to the best in us, they have demonstrated the best in themselves and in the democratic faith that no terrorist can shatter.

Gone is the trivialization of public life that produced a system wherein more Americans watch the Super Bowl than vote for president. Since September 11 we have outgrown focus groups and spin doctors. Patriotism has crowded out partisanship. Can it last? I believe it can, if we distill the generosity of spirit with which Americans have reached out to one another. History teaches us, with unmistakable emphasis, that when lives hang in the balance, leadership will not be found wanting. This was true of the Class of '45, many of whom never returned to Lawrence to stand in a commencement line.

It is equally true of today's young people, who have already demonstrated their compassion and commitment through a host of voluntary efforts. It now falls to you to foster a politics that reflects our idealism, not our indifference. It is my fondest hope that you will redeem our politics through your energy and your intelligence. It is my most fervent prayer that political leadership worthy of this occasion will spare you the tests visited upon my generation Ð and that this Institute may, in the years to come, reflect the very best of Kansas. Which is to say, the very best of America. May God bless you, and may God bless the United States of America.

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