More than a few tears were shed in Washington this week as Democrats marked the end of 40 years of political hegemony. Called back to town for a special session on the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade, once seemingly invulnerable politicians wielded the gavels of power for the final time. Outside their offices packing boxes filled the halls, and a sense of mortal gloom hung in the air. Where to go now? What to do?
For the most part the defeated politicians -- in contrast to some of the winning ones -- handled themselves with class. None more than Speaker of the House Tom Foley, who declined to lay the blame of his loss at anyone's feet but his own. While many of his colleagues could barely contain grumbling about their party's leader, Foley stated humbly, "I was on the ticket, not the president. I take responsibility for the defeat."
Nevertheless, few Democrats still standing in Washington sound comfortable about putting their fate in Bill Clinton's hands. What Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan and George Bush could not do, so the saying goes, Bill Clinton did for them. Republicans hold control of both houses of Congress for the first time in 40 years, and the legislative agenda is theirs to command. It is a bitter pill to swallow for those used to having their way.
So far, the White House has done little to bolster the spirits of its allies. Throughout the week, the president has been meeting privately with Democratic governors and many of the defeated or retiring Democratic House members. The meetings have been described as "listening sessions" to hear what others think the president ought to do. The advice has been conflicting, and participants report that Clinton himself has shown little penchant for knowing what course to take.
Into the vacuum, many in the Washington media have tried to step. Their advice, too, has been conflicting. The only consistent point being that if Democrats don't get their act together soon, they will be rolled. It is an image many Republican leaders would like to believe but which the wise ones won't. It is an image intended to jolt the Democrats from their paralyzing lament.
* * * * *
Maybe because so much of Washington is suffering from depression and because it is a tale of hope, the story of Matthew Dulles de Bara charmed the capital this week. Matthew was born last Wednesday nearly three months premature on a TWA flight from New York to Orlando, Fla. He was delivered by a doctor, two paramedics and the flight crew in front of 213 amazed passengers. The baby's lungs were cleaned out with a juice box straw, and a flight attendant commandeered a passenger's shoelace to tie the umbilical cord. An emergency landing at Dulles International Airport in Washington became the inspiration for the infant's middle name.
Because of his precarious health, Matthew Dulles' story remained somewhat secret until Sunday. Since then he has moved out of critical condition, and his parents have been besieged by well-wishers across the country.
"Every time you pick up a paper or turn on the TV you hear who killed who or some other tragedy," Theresa de Bara, the baby's mother, told the Washington Post. "This gave a good example of how people aren't that bad after all. People will get involved. They do care."
So too do companies, apparently. TWA has been flying the de Baras for free between New York and Dulles while Matthew is hospitalized, which is expected to be another two weeks. It will ferry him, his parents and his 3-year-old sister for free to Orlando next year to finish the trip that was interrupted last week.
Perhaps most astonishing, however, is that the de Baras learned only after-the-fact that the neonatologist who was Matthew's doctor, and the first one to call him Dulles, remained in the hospital over the weekend after learning that his mother had died the day before.
He left for the funeral Monday.
"He never told me," Matthew's father said. "I overheard a nurse talking about him leaving for the funeral in Indiana. He believed as long as the baby was critical, his place was here in the hospital."
It is the miracle of life -- and of the brilliance and generosity of America. Perhaps, too, it symbolizes a new dawn in our nation's capital.
Jon K. Rust is a Washington-based writer for the Southeast Missourian.
Connect with the Southeast Missourian Newsroom:
For corrections to this story or other insights for the editor, click here. To submit a letter to the editor, click here. To learn about the Southeast Missourian’s AI Policy, click here.