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Edmund S. Muskie
His favorite portrait. Photo by Stephen O. Muskie.
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FTER THE CEREMONY, I walked with the Bastards toward the archives, across a campus of felled trees and twisted goalposts. We were met by Jim Ross, a Bates senior who was doing his honors thesis on the senator's childhood. Ross led us past rows of giant rolling lockers filled with some 2,500 memo-choked cartons. "A lot of blood, sweat, and tears in there," said Billings.
The walls of the archives were hung with photographs: Muskie and Gerald Ford, Muskie and Golda Meir, Muskie and JFK in a sailboat. The Muskies and the Humphreys arm-in-arm at the 1968 Democratic convention, captioned, "To Ed and Jane, a happy and proud moment and one we shall always cherish -- what a team! -- Hubert and Muriel." Ross also showed us huge drawers marked "Unique Things." License plates, flags, a bumper sticker proclaiming "I Went to Ed's Baked Bean Supper." A golden metal hot dog given by some long-forgotten booster club. In one of the boxes I caught a flash of copper. One of the Faceless Bastards picked it up and smiled, showing it around. It was a penny with the senator's profile etched in where Lincoln's normally was, looking as if he quite belonged there. These words ran alongside it: "We Trust Muskie." And the thing of it is, I remember thinking at the time, most everyone did. Rest in peace.
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Farewell to a Tailor's Son: Title Page | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Copyright ©1997 Stephen O. Muskie