Is too much named after too many too soon?

By Marion Edwyn Harrison
web posted July 15, 2004

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was not thinking of Ronald
Wilson Reagan when he wrote:

	So when a great man dies, 
	For years beyond our ken, 
	The light he leaves behind him lies, 
	Upon the paths of men.

But in spirit that noble poet might have been. Surely American
history has seen few leaders so humble, so serving -- and with
such a great sense of humor. Because the late President was "a
great man," his light will linger long.

What, then, of the generously intended rash of proposals that
this, that, the Pentagon or some additional building be named
after him? Let's keep calm, deliberate and (almost un-American
though the characteristic is) patient. A powerful argument may be
made that too much is named too soon after too many.

The Roman Catholic Church, with very infrequent exception,
ordinarily does not consider sainthood for one deceased less
than fifty years. Whether fifty, longer or a little less, what is lost
to memory or to history if there is pause in naming buildings,
bridges, roads, whatever, after a deceased?

Think of all the federal courthouses named after Senators,
Representatives, a few even after federal judges, whose memory
would be lost -- sometimes deservedly lost -- to the public but
for the name emblazoned on the structure. It may be that "pride
goeth not before the fall" because many in Congress legislate
their own names on buildings, roads, bridges and the like and
then continue, memorialized in marble or concrete or mud -- er,
pavement, to run for re-election, hoping vanity and voter
credulity will catapult them into re-election. One wouldn't want
to focus upon a particular place but maybe you have observed
the coincidence of federal (meaning mostly non-West Virginian)
taxpayer money expended in West Virginia and the frequency of
[Robert C.] Byrd-this and Byrd-that in the State.

Until more recently Members of Congress have been more
reticent -- modest maybe? -- to name things after their
colleagues and themselves, much less to do so while the honoree
was still alive or only recently deceased. The late Robert L.
Doughton (pronounced "Doubt - un"), of North Carolina, served
many years with distinction in the House, including the
chairmanship of the powerful Ways and Means Committee.
Although nicknamed "Muley" because he was said to be
stubborn, he was popular. Some fifty years ago he announced
his retirement. Various Democratic colleagues proposed naming
the Blue Ridge Parkway after him. Congress was a much smaller
institution then, the entire population -- Senators,
Representatives, staff -- less than that of the present House of
Representatives aggregation alone. People knew one another.
Not every proposal was treated with formality. Before the
Doughton proposal made it to the Floor, a gentle chorus of
Congressmen in the Republican Cloakroom (a meeting room
adjacent to the House Floor) sang an improvised ditty, the
refrain of which was " . . . the Doubt -- un Mountains of Virginia
. . ." The proposal was pulled.

It should be honor enough that a Senator or Representative
many times is re-elected and retires or dies after a distinguished
career. In the bigger milieu, history, although seldom unitary in
evaluation, will remember the President or other significant
dignitary if he is worthy of remembrance. Would many informed
people want the Millard Fillmore or James Buchanan Memorial
on the Mall in Washington? The [Thomas] Woodrow Wilson
Department of State? The Abe Fortas United States Supreme
Court? The Warren Gamaliel Harding, Harry M. Daugherty or J.
Howard McGrath Department of Justice?

Few people have a higher opinion than I of our late 40th
President. Already a major federal building and Washington
Airport (actually in Arlington, Virginia and theretofore
inaccurately named "National" and before that, at a nearby
Arlington site, prematurely named "Herbert Hoover") are named
Reagan. Let's pause. Years hence, I, for one, do not doubt that
objective historians -- no, they're not all liberal sycophants -- will
recognize the Reagan galaxy of inspiration and achievement. That
will be time enough to name something more.

Meantime, let's forego the ongoing onslaught of buildings,
bridges, roads and whatever else is available named by
politicians for politicians - or even by politicians for statesmen.

History will accord the meritorious their due. Unless the end of
the world is near there will be adequate time for naming. If the
end is near it won't matter.

So, let's take a drive on the Blue Ridge Parkway, in the beautiful
Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. The spirit of Muley won't
mind.

Marion Edwyn Harrison is President of, and Counsel to, the
Free Congress Foundation.

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