Without a note or scrap of paper before him, he "preached" for one solid hour and twenty-two minutes more, surely long enough to bore stiff most anyone expect perhaps his forgiving family.

Yet from the moment EVERETT DIRKSEN set free from deep in his innards that first velvety syllable, those seated, affluent diners-1,800 in all-leaned toward him and strained to hear every word as if life itself depended on his

next one.

Before DIRKSEN rose, the bony young minister from the little frame church in Pekin spoke reverently of the Senator as "one who stands among us, but towers above us."

That set the stage. Then EVERETT DIRKSEN shuffled to the lectern, blinking in seeming surprise at the glare of TV lights he contended with almost daily.

The celebrated silvery locks were tangled and awry. A huge carnation made a white splotch on his black suit. The massive head, the sagging face were thrust forward, and tired, watery eyes peered over horn-rimmed spectacles into the sea of admirers. He looked for all the world like the fabled cowardly lion from cinema's Land of Oz.

There was in the great ballroom the perfect silence of expectancy, for most of them had savored the Dirksenian thunder before.

Then the words began to come, resonant, rolling, soft and almost inaudible at first. He told a gnarled old story about a grateful cow, one of his oftrepeated favorites. Half the crowd had heard him tell it before, yet they wandered almost gleefully alongside him to the punch-line, and then roared with laughter, feeling he had permitted them to share with him an intimate

moment.

What he said was not new. Some would brand it corny or trite, the some old cliches about God and motherhood and freedom and all that. The empty sophisticates might dismiss him as out of touch with these frenetic times.

But you knew somehow this man was not shallow or calculating or emotionless. You could see an incandescent glow in those tired eyes when he talked of freedom.

There was an element of grandeur, a certain homely wisdom about this righteous, earthy plainsman. His may be a dying breed but it towers above the gray flannel prodigies who are guided by polls, surrounded by faceless aides, preoccupied with the cosmetics of image.

Perhaps EV DIRKSEN is of a dying breed, but history refutes it. Over and over again the times have produced the man. Illinois gave to the nation Abraham Lincoln in a time of crisis. Ev DIRKSEN would have been the first to repudiate comparison with the martyred President, but he was the most articulate exponent of the Lincoln philosophy in succeeding times and succeeding crises. DIRKSEN, more than any other, clung tenaciously to the defense of freedom-for the nation and for the people. As the courageous champion of freedom his memory will be cherished wherever freedom prevails-and wherever oppressed peoples elsewhere hope freedom may yet be achieved in a troubled world.

Not long ago, Senator DIRKSEN gave his voice to the recording of patriotic readings entitled "Gallant Men." It was a sensational success. Millions thrilled to his masterful tribute to great men of history. The Senator was only the narrator. But there could be no more fitting designation for him. He was, indeed, the gallant man. His life of devotion and dedication was yet another demonstration of the validity of the American dream.

ADDRESS BY HON. ROBERT H. MICHEL

OF ILLINOIS

Mr. Speaker, the messages of condolence continue to come in the mail in the wake of Senator EVERETT MCKINLEY DIRKSEN's passing and today we received a letter from one of our dear friends and constituents who also was a very good friend of the Senator's. I should like to have printed in the Record at this point the full text of her letter, for the message embodied in it is such a touching one:

PEKIN, ILL., September 11, 1969.

Hon. ROBERT H. MICHEL,

Washington, D.C.

DEAR MR. MICHEL: He is home at last.

So often he began his talks to home audiences with the words “It's so good to be home again."

It must have been thousands that stood in tribute today for his final coming home. Memories of happier returns mingled in one's thoughts when he shared his life's learning and experiences with us. An intimate knowledge of world personages and affairs was his. He used it all for the good of mankind. There will never be an EVERETT DIRKSEN replica.

When Edwin Markham wrote his Lincoln the Man of the People for the dedication of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C., he said:

"So came the Captain with the mighty heart; And when the judgment thunders split the house Wrenching the rafters from their ancient rest, He held the ridgepole up, and spikt again The rafters of the house. He held his place-Held the long purpose like a growing tree-Held on through blame and faltered not at praise. And when he fell in whirlwind, he went down As when a lordly cedar, green with boughs, Goes down with a great shout upon the hills, And leaves a lonesome place against the sky."

For so many EVERETT DIRKSEN's passing "leaves a lonesome place against the sky."

In closing there was another thought EVERETT often quoted. He had taken it from the Bible-Nehemiah 4.6, "So built we the wall; . for the people had a mind to work."

I wonder if this was not a part of his creed-for himself and for us all in America. There must be purpose to achieve accomplishment.

Respectfully yours,

NINA G. HAMMER.

ADDRESS BY HON. GLENARD P. LIPSCOMB

OF CALIFORNIA

Mr. Speaker, the fleeting September days have painfully reminded us that the passing of Senator EVERett McKinley DIRKSEN silenced the voice and wisdom of one of America's great political leaders.

The loss I felt on learning of his death was not only for the Nation at the loss of a great statesman but also for myself at the loss of a friend and colleague. But to speak only of the death of EVERETT DIRKSEN would be an injustice to the life of a proud American-a life filled with great moments.

EVERETT DIRKSEN was a passionate human being. He loved his country and dedicated his life to its service. He had a deep moral sense for the right and the wrong. He was not one to waver in his convictions but yet he tempered them with justice. During his 32 decades in the Congress of the United States, he was instrumental in affecting the passage of numerous pieces of vital legislation. His influence was felt and respected by both parties. In shaping legislation to meet America's changing needs, he truly understood the demands of leadership. However, Senator DIRKSEN was equally as persistent in his fight against those things which he did not feel were right for his country. The senior Senator from Illinois will be missed as an orator, remembered as a legislator, and revered as an American.

As he rests in peace, we the living are glad that EVERETT DIRKSEN shared his life with us. To Mrs. Dirksen and the family, Mrs. Lipscomb joins me in extending our deepest sympathy at their loss.

ADDRESS BY HON. LAURENCE J. BURTON

OF UTAH

Mr. Speaker, the September 22, 1969, issue of U.S. News & World Report contained an article entitled, "If a Man Die, Shall He Live Again?" Editor David Lawrence, in a note preceding the article, explains that it is a eulogy that the late Senator EVERETT DIRKSEN delivered 4 years ago during a memorial service for his departed friend, Robert Humphreys. As I read this beautiful tribute, I could almost hear the eloquent voice of its author; and inasmuch as it reflects the deep faith and great wisdom of EVERETT DIRKSEN, I would like to bring it to the attention of my colleagues who may have missed it:

"IF A MAN Die, Shall HE LIVE AGAIN?"

(EVERETT DIRKSEN delivered on Oct. 20, 1965, at the New York Avenue Presbyterian Church in Washington, a eulogy during a memorial service for Robert Humphreys, a former newspaperman and in previous years a staff member of the Senate-House Republican Leadership Conference. Mr. DIRKSEN read from a manuscript he had personally written. I asked him for his copy, and it was printed on these pages in the issue of Nov. 8, 1965. (Now that the Illinois Senator has passed away, the text may well be read once more.--David Lawrence, Editor.)

(By EVERETT DIRKSEN)

What mortal being, standing on the threshold of infinity, has not pondered what lies beyond the veil which separates the seen from the unseen?

What mortal being, responding to that mystical instinct that earthly dissolution is at hand, has not contemplated what lies beyond the grave?

What mortal being, upon whom has decended that strange and serene resignation that life's journey is about at an end, has not thought about that eternal destination and what might be there?

Centuries ago, the man Job, so long blessed with every material blessing, only to find himself sorely afflicted by all that can befall a human being, sat with his companions and uttered the timeless, ageless question, “If a man die, shall he live again?" In the Easter Season, when all Christendom observes the Resurrection and seeks answers to many questions, there in the forefront is the question raised by Job, "If a man die, shall he live again?"

If there be a design in this universe and in this world in which we live, there must be a Designer. Who can behold the inexplicable mysteries of the universe without believing that there is a design for all mankind and also a Designer?

Consider what is recorded in the Book of Genesis. First, the Designer created Heaven and Earth, void and formless. There was darkness on the deep. Only darkness and ocean and no light. Let there be light said the Grand Designer of the universe, and there was light. Let there be a firmament, said He, and there was a firmament. Let there be grass, said He, and herb, yielding seed. How could an earth continue without the seed of continuity? And there was.

Two lights He made, sun and moon. Came the stars by His design. He called for living creatures in the water and fowls to fly above the earth. And it was so, even as it is now. He called for earthbound life-cattle, beasts, and creeping things. The design was nearly complete, but not quite.

He created man with dominion over all other living things. And then this seemingly incredible thing-every green herb for meat. Yet it is every green thing which sustains all living things from the day of the first man until this very moment.

Man alone, of all living things received intelligence—a brain, a mind, and a soul. He alone, with these attributes, had the capacity for faith and hope, for inspiration and ambition, nobility and dignity, and the capacity to remember and to forget.

In a world of scientific wonders and achievements, no atom with all its force to destroy, to frighten, and annihilate could conceive an idea, build a structure, write a document, utter a spoken word, entertain compassion of charity or hope. Only to man came this endowment of intelligence, dignity, divinity, and dominion over all living things.

Who would persuasively contend that this work of the Great Designer could end in oblivion, in destruction without a trace? Who will contend that this—the noblest work of the Great Designer-man, with dominion over all living things, man, with a brain and a will, with a mind and a soul, man, with intelligence and divinity, should come to an end when the spirit forsakes its earthly temple?

Except for the handiwork of the Great Designer, nothing in this world is created and nothing is destroyed.

The Eiffel Tower is but the fashioning, forming, and shaping of materials already here.

The pyramids, which have stood for centuries, are but the craftsmanship of men on stone already here.

The atom-author of both joy and misery-was always here. It remained only for time and intelligence to isolate it and lay bare its awesome power. The glory and beauty of the nation's Capitol is but the work of gifted men upon materials already here.

All this from the hand and grace of the Great Designer, whose handiwork is everywhere.

How could His work be destroyed? Not by fire, for that but transmutes what man put together into other forms such as light, heat, energy, and gases. Not by earthquakes, which but tumble man's work but do not destroy the