From the Sanitary Café to the Capitol Rotunda

I was watching the funeral services for Senator Lindsey Graham on television as they unfolded beneath the magnificent dome of the United States Capitol Rotunda. It was a ceremony marked by dignity, respect and an unmistakable sense that, for a few hours, politics had been left at the door.
Republicans and Democrats stood together to honor a colleague whose life had been devoted to public service. Differences of philosophy and party gave way to respect for a fellow senator. It was a reminder that, at its best, the United States Senate is more than a political institution. It is a place where service to country is recognized regardless of party affiliation.
To be honored in the Capitol Rotunda is among the nation’s highest tributes. It is a distinction reserved for only a select few Americans whose lives have left a lasting mark on the nation. Watching the ceremony, it was easy to understand why Lindsey Graham had earned that honor.
As the service moved to the Washington National Cathedral, my thoughts returned to visits I had made to our nation’s capital while attending National Newspaper Association Government Affairs Conferences. During one of those trips, I visited the crypt where Helen Keller is memorialized. As a longtime member of the Denver Lions Club, I wanted to pay my respects to the remarkable woman who, in 1925, challenged the Lions to become the “Knights of the Blind.” Her words inspired a worldwide mission that today reaches more than 1.3 million Lions dedicated to serving people with vision loss and countless other humanitarian causes.
The cathedral is a place where history is remembered. On this day it became a place where another chapter of American history was honored.
Lindsey Graham’s story did not begin beneath the Capitol dome. It began in Central, South Carolina, where he grew up working in his family’s Sanitary Café and living in the back of the family business. Life changed forever when his father died suddenly of a heart attack. A short time later, his mother also passed away, leaving Lindsey, still a young man, responsible for his 13-year-old sister, Darline.
Rather than turning away from that responsibility, he embraced it. He became her guardian, later adopted her, completed his education, served his country in the United States Air Force, practiced law and entered public service. Those experiences shaped a man who would spend decades serving South Carolina and the nation in the United States Senate.
Throughout the funeral services, tributes came from presidents, colleagues, friends and world leaders. They spoke of a senator who understood not only the issues facing America but the challenges confronting the world. He was known as a man who studied, listened, debated and acted. He was deeply engaged in the events of his time and committed to making a difference.
Whether Americans agreed with Lindsey Graham’s politics or not, few could question his dedication to public service or the extraordinary journey that carried him from a small-town café in South Carolina to one of the nation’s highest honors beneath the Capitol dome.
Many people spend their lives watching history unfold.
Lindsey Graham chose another path.
He stepped into the arena. He accepted responsibility. He led.
He made things happen.
That, to me, is the legacy of Senator Lindsey Graham.