[Congressional Record Volume 140, Number 52 (Wednesday, May 4, 1994)]
[Senate]
[Page S]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Printing Office [www.gpo.gov]
[Congressional Record: May 4, 1994]
From the Congressional Record Online via GPO Access [wais.access.gpo.gov]
TRIBUTE TO WILLIAM BARTON GRAY
Mr. LEAHY. Mr. President, I have had many instances on the floor of
the Senate when I had an opportunity to talk about things of great joy,
great pleasure, and accomplishment. Today is not one of them.
I rise today to speak on the memory of a person that I have known
most of my adult life, a man who died in March, a very, very good
friend, Bill Gray.
Much was written in the Vermont newspapers about William Barton Gray,
and so much of it was true about him. In many ways, it did not begin to
touch the real person.
I think of the cold spring Vermont day. The night before we had a
light dusting of snow, and that day dawned clear and crisp with the Sun
shining, as so many of us, his friends and his family, walked up Church
Street in Burlington to the Unitarian Church to say final farewells to
him.
I think it was his good friend, Jerry O'Neill, with whom he had
practiced law, who talked about his background as a lawyer and as a
prosecutor and as a friend. So many of us addressed him personally from
the pulpit of the church, which brought so many memories back.
His very good friend, Nick Littlefield, who I have the honor of
having with me today on the Senate floor, spoke also of his
reminiscences and his friendship. He brought together a picture of Bill
Gray that those of us who knew him recognized, and those who had not
had the opportunity to know him had to understand the regret that they
would have in not having known such a great person.
The pastor spoke of his love of animals, his raising of sheep. He
spoke of a renaissance man who spoke different languages, traveled the
world, well educated, a brilliant lawyer, a former prosecutor; that he
would go back to his home in Vermont and raise apples and sheep and
tend the land and be the kind of steward of the land that the Lord has
commended all of us to be.
And I thought after Reverend Anderson spoke that way, I thought of
what Oliver Wendell Holmes said, in speaking of his own life. He said,
``These little fragments of my fleece that I have left upon the hedges
of life.'' As we spoke to Sarah, Bill's wonderful wife, a person who
was a tower of strength in his last illness and really a model for all
of us, a wonderful human being; his son, Josh; his daughter, Sasha; his
father, his sister, and everybody who was in the church, I thought we
were all going to speak of the little fragments of his fleece that he
had left upon the hedges of life.
But I know that you could not speak just in that one clear spring day
of his life, you would have to spend months and you would begin to just
touch it.
So I want to talk about it, because we celebrated a life. We did
mourn a death, but we celebrated a life--a life of a friend of a
quarter of a century.
I remember when we served as young prosecutors together, he in the
U.S. attorney's office and I as State's attorney in Chittenden County.
Later he went on to the Department of Justice, carving a legacy in the
Department as a prosecutor's prosecutor, one of the best. And then,
when President Carter was elected, I remember talking to Bill and
saying, ``Please come home to Vermont''--he was a native Vermonter--
``come home to Vermont and be our U.S. attorney.'' And he did and
served with distinction as the best U.S. attorney anybody could
remember.
In 1986, Mr. President, when I was up for reelection in what was
going to be the most difficult election of my life, Bill Gray left his
practice and spent a year as a volunteer to run my campaign. But it was
more than just running my campaign. He was my counselor, he was my
mentor, he was my friend on sunny and dark days.
I think of the number of times, Mr. President, that we sat on the
steps of my farmhouse in Middlesex, VT. We talked of the campaign, but
we talked about so many other things. We talked about our children, of
our families, of life.
He was my friend on the sunny days, but also the dark days. The
darkest, of course, was the day he came and told Marcelle and me of
this illness that was striking him at far too young an age, far too
young an age for anyone. And even then, I remember, as we heard the
news, he was there trying to cheer us up.
In some ways, during those last years of his illness, we became
closer, if that is possible. We talked of life and family and friends
and values. And we had so many different stories, the two of us.
I told at his memorial service about going to Rutland, VT, in my 1992
election. He had called and had just received particularly bad news
from the doctors. His cancer had gone out of remission and he wanted to
talk with me. He said, ``I know Marcelle has been driving you during
this campaign. Why don't I just come and drive with you and we will
spend the day together?'' And we did. We drove down to Rutland, which
is in the southern part of our State, and we talked of life and death
and what a cruel fate he had been dealt.
And coming back, it was interesting. He was such a wonderful friend.
This man could hike, and he could sail and swim and do virtually
everything better than anybody else, except one thing. As I told his
family and friends assembled, he was a terrible driver.
As we were driving up this twisty, narrow road, up through the
mountains of Vermont, I said, ``Bill, you are talking about death in
the abstract and I am afraid that death may be a lot more concrete the
way you are driving.'' I said, ``Let's pull off.'' And we did. On the
side of the road, the two of us were hanging on to each other and
laughing about the irreverence of our conversation.
I also suggested what somebody might have said had they recognized a
former U.S. attorney and the incumbent Senator and candidate for
reelection hanging on to each other by the side of the road laughing
our heads off.
I, also, Mr. President, incidentally, drove the rest of the way back.
After that, Mr. President, he actually got better. His cancer went
into remission and we had great hope. And then President Clinton was
elected. And Bill, who had been this wonderful prosecutor and lawyer,
had one thing I think he always wanted to be, and that would be a
Federal judge. And we had a vacancy in the second circuit of the U.S.
Court of Appeals, the so-called Vermont seat; the one seat Vermont has
always filled with distinction, with two chief justices in the second
circuit, Sterry Waterman and James L. Oakes.
I talked with Bill about that. He had the unanimous recommendation of
everybody in the bar for that seat. I went to the President and asked
if he would appoint Bill Gray to the U.S. Court of Appeals for the
Second Circuit, and the President said yes. And we began the process of
the background that the Presiding Officer knows so well, all going very
well, and the cancer struck again.
And President Clinton, to his credit, said, ``Well, let's just hold
up and see what happens.'' There was no pressure from the White House
to bring another name.
We went through this time with Bill. There was no question he was
going to go on the second court of appeals. He would have been a
renaissance man on that court. It would have done so much for the court
and for our State and, I believe, for our country.
But, as the fall leaves fell and the snows came, it became more
apparent this might not happen. When Bill went through his final
illness, again we talked as only dear friends could. His friends
gathered around him, the greatest friend, of course, being his
wonderful wife Sarah. Everybody should be blessed by having somebody
who would care so deeply as she did--and many of us are so blessed. His
friends, Jerry O'Neill and family, Nick Littlefield and family.
Then, as we knew would happen, the end came and I had the sad duty of
notifying the President that Bill was no longer there. Mr. President, I
ask unanimous consent to have printed in the Record the letter I sent
to the President on that occasion.
There being no objection, the letter was ordered to be printed in the
Record, as follows:
U.S. Senate,
Committee on the Judiciary,
Washington, DC, March 23, 1994.
Hon. William J. Clinton,
President, The White House, Washington, DC.
Dear Mr. President: It is with deep personal regret that I
must inform you of the passing of William Barton Gray. As you
know I recommended Bill Gray to you for a seat on the United
States Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit. He would have
made a splendid Judge. His background prepared him
professionally for the responsibilities. More important, his
character, integrity and judgment would have served to make
him an outstanding Judge, Just as he was an outstanding
lawyer and public servant. Those of us who are fortunate to
have known and worked with Bill Gray will miss him. The
Second Circuit, those whose cases would have been heard by
him, and the development of the law will miss him, as well.
Sincerely,
Patrick J. Leahy,
U.S. Senator.
Mr. LEAHY. Mr. President, the day of the memorial service I read from
an Italian writer. I quoted,
In one sense there is no death. The life of a soul on Earth
lasts beyond his departure. You always feel that life
touching yours, that voice speaking to you, that spirit
looking out of other eyes, talking to you, and the familiar
things he touched, worked with, loved as familiar friends. He
lives on in your life and the lives of all others that knew
him.
That was my friend, Bill Gray.
Mr. President, as I told Bill and his family, I knew the day would
come I would stand here on the floor in my capacity as a Senator, a
capacity he helped me obtain, and that I would carry out this sad duty.
Mr. President, I asked unanimous consent the wonderful words of Nick
Littlefield in his personal remembrance of Bill Gray also be printed in
the Record at this appropriate place as well as some of the wonderful
remembrances of him from the newspapers in Vermont.
There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in
the Record, as follows:
A Personal Remembrance of Bill Gray
(By Nick Littlefield)
When I first saw Bill in 1960 at Harvard freshman baseball
tryouts he stood out among the rest of our classmates--more
winning, handsome and athletic, an heroic figure even at 18.
He had bounded into our lives with the exuberance of a brass
band entering the big top, fresh from his family and the
Putney hills, with no edge, knowing himself and what he liked
to do, serious and ambitious, but especially receptive to all
of life's experiences. He lit up every group he was part of
at college, wowing even the starchiest of Boston and New York
society, and in his solos with the Krokodilos winning
admirers at women's colleges across New England.
Even then, as always, his center was Sarah.
After a year of law school, Sarah and Bill were married in
Riverdale, at the Kerlin's, who would always be there for
him, and later for the children. They moved into their first
apartment on the third floor of an old row house in West
Philadelphia with the same Danish couch, dining room table
and Picasso drawing that they had wherever they lived for
nearly thirty years.
With marriage to Sarah, Bill had new responsibilities, and
a new goal to succeed in New York City in the most
competitive law world of all. He worked harder than before,
and as Josh was born, Bill finished law school near the top
of his class his last two years.
He made his reputation in New York fast--in the Federal
courthouse at Foley Square, where the great racketeering and
espionage trials of New York legend had been held. What an
unbeatable impression his Vermont integrity made on jurors
who lived in Manhattan and the Bronx. What a good teacher he
was to beginning Assistant U.S. Attorneys like me, who
followed him to the office after several years.
Music--ah, his passion was growing. An extra in La Boheme
at the Met and at the Academy of Music in Philadelphia. We
sang together in the New York Choral Society. Sasha was born
during the last week of rehearsals for the Bach B Minor Mass.
Bill, the father again, held Sasha, the new born in his arms
in a weekend in Pine Plains while together we studied the
bass part by listening to the record over and over again.
Days later we stood on the stage at Avery Fisher Hall,
bellowing proudly the musical lines we had learned.
Soon Bill, having proven himself in New York, made the
choice to come home with Sarah and the children to Vermont,
leaving behind the fortune that certainly awaited him in New
York. I remember the beautiful house in Pomfret, bill
teaching Josh to ski there, the years in Washington, and
then the return to Jericho where Bill had everything he
had always known he wanted at the end of Old Pump Road.
How he nurtured his land, and how he lived and celebrated
life. A year on bees, on gardens, more and more vegetables,
planting apple orchards and Christmas trees, sheep, a year on
the Gray geneology, the trip with Josh and his father to the
roots in Ireland, the year on red wine, studying voice,
reviewing operas in Montreal, Boston Marathons where his
friends were placed strategically along the way with water
bottles, a year on bicycles built for two.
And family vacations--remember doing them with Bill and
Sarah. You felt you had to rent outfits and special
equipment, tights for biking and shoes for running and
hiking; train for weeks in advance; brace yourself--and then
feel like you needed a week off to rest after it was over.
Casting for blue fish and a run before breakfast, then tennis
with Bill and Gil, then bicycling, lunch, more tennis, pick
up Whiffle ball, a late afternoon jog and swim, dinner, and
maybe even an opera before bed.
During this time, there was his growing interest in
politics. Once I wondered if Bill would be a Democrat--thank
God he was. His friendship with Senator Leahy and that tough
campaign which was so well conducted that it turned out not
to be close at all, and his own quest for the Senate, an
impossible dream like our mutual love for the Red Sox.
Then the darker, introspective times. I'm struck by the
metaphor of the long Vermont winters he had lived with since
he was born. In the garden and late for dinner. Not always
easy to live with. But as a friend somehow more accessible,
more touching and compelling than ever.
Even the final years while he battled his illness provided
some unexpected joys: watching Josh start law school at
Columbia, Patrick's faith in him for the judgeship, Sasha and
Misha together visiting in Vermont in January, nights at home
by the wood stove, being able to care for Mabel, Connie,
contributing so selflessly in his struggle with cancer.
Through it all, Sarah, still at the center. She, as always,
made Bill possible. And in these years he became more
unforgettable, more heroic.
Jenny and I were blessed with the chance to see Bill at the
hospital just last Sunday. There, sitting in bed, surrounded
by nurses who had become his fans, by his opera tapes, a CD
of love songs by Jose Carreras, cards and posters from
Vermont, and tubes, and struggling to breathe and harder
still to talk, Bill whispered to us before we left. ``I'm
going to try very hard to make it.''
In the poet, Stephen Spender's words,
``What is precious is never to forget. . . .
The names of those who in their lives fought for life.
Who wore at their hearts the fire's centre.
Born of the sun, they travelled a short while towards the
sun,
And left the vivid air signed with their honour.''
Judge Gray, your honor, you brought us love, and wit, and
music, sometime exasperating tenacity, kindness, idealism,
intellect and in the end indomitable courage. You take with
you our dearest love.
____
[From the St. Albans (VT) Messenger, Mar. 24, 1994]
Bill Gray
(By Emerson Lynn)
It would forever remain spring if every Vermonter touched
by the warmth and wit of Bill Gray would lay a blossom on his
grave.
He died Tuesday evening after a second-round battle against
leukemia. With his death, Vermont lost a gentleman, a
statesman and a friend of large talent and good will.
As a public figure he was well known, most recently as the
nominee of Sen. Patrick Leahy to become judge for the 2nd
U.S. Court of Appeals, and before that, as the Democratic
challenger to Sen. James Jeffords. He was U.S. Attorney from
1977-81 and headed various statewide efforts such as
Vermont's Bicentennial. His legal talents were matched only
by his sense of fairness, which made him a trusted person to
both Republican and Democratic administrations.
What distinguished him was that he was in public as he was
in private: honest, committed, sincere and thoughtful. He
prized integrity above all else and would have given up
public service before he would have sacrificed it to personal
gain. He embodied the qualities Vermonters desire in their
public servants.
It is important to mark such lives. In an age dominated by
the short flash of entertainment and sports stars, it's
necessary to talk of those who understand happiness, family,
justice, reason and humanity, those who by their dedication
add to the sum of a state's well-being. It's important
because we desperately need more people like him.
It is impossible to offer a proper tribute to Bill Gray
without breaking from formal prose and trying to get at the
essence of what made him someone whom others wanted to be
around, or to be like.
Part of it was his innate understanding of the word good as
a noun. This framed his political and personal will. It's why
others offered their trust in return. It was the underpinning
of his motivation; he wanted to be good, to do good, and for
others to understand why it was important.
This understanding allowed him the personal freedom to be
happy with himself, his family, his friends, and to explore
without fear of failure. That's what allows a person to love
and to be loved.
It was this confidence that others found so engaging, and
even though no other man could look down upon him, he was
secure enough to be humble and to understand the importance
of others.
He was as physical as he was intellectual. He was a superb
athlete who enjoyed the harshness of Vermont's winters, a man
proud of the calluses that came from running the farm.
With his strength came his rages. He despised injustice and
fought it with vigor. He could not tolerate political
sophistry, and said so. He was truth's best champion.
The sum of his qualities gave him the necessary strength in
his fight against leukemia. Even with a black and blue body,
hairless head and no reason to entertain others, his sense of
humor was ever present, as was his determination, his
courage, and his gentleness.
For his family, speech cannot define their love. From his
friends and fellow Vermonters, we offer our hopes that others
will follow in his path.
____
[From the Burlington Free Press, Mar. 24, 1994]
Vermont Could Use More Time With Gray
(By Sam Hemingway)
You can bet William B. Gray's name is already on the
letterhead of heaven's law firm, but we sure could have used
his skills a little longer down here on Earth.
We could have used his keen mind and compassion as a judge
for the 2nd U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals.
That was the job U.S. Sen. Patrick Leahy, D-Vt., had
nominated him for the one President Clinton and Congress
would surely have bestowed upon Gray, 52, of Jericho, if he
had not lost round 2 of his battle with leukemia Tuesday
night in Boston. Gray served as U.S. Attorney from 1977-81
and ran for U.S. Senate in 1988.
``I've lost a good friend. Vermont has lost a good
friend,'' Leahy said during a Washington, D.C., telephone
interview Wednesday, his voice wavering until it could no
longer hold back his tears.
We could have enjoyed his big heart.
Whether it was his love of the law, Vermont, music,
running, gardening or even Red Sox Nation in its darkest
hour, Gray gave the cause at hand all his passion, all his
energy.
``He epitomized the warmth and outgoing quality of
Vermonters,'' said William Mares of Burlington. ``Bill was a
living lie to the very wrong cliche that Vermonters are
turned inward and silent. Bill did not know how to be mean.''
We could have learned a thing or two from him about family.
One of his many proteges, Jerome O'Neil, recalled the time
Gray cheered up O'Neill's young daughter by placing a ripe
pumpkin in her non-productive pumpkin patch one night.
And who can forget Gray's tearful comment during the 1986
Equal Rights Amendment campaign? ``It has to pass,'' he told
a rally of ERA supporters two weeks before the measure was
defeated. ``Or I'm not going to be able to face my daughter
on Nov. 5.''
But most of all, we could have appreciated his love of
country, his dedication to public service in its purest form.
``It was always important to Bill that anyone who went
through the criminal justice system feel like they had been
treated fairly, even if they did not like the result,'' said
O'Neill, who worked under Gray in the U.S. attorney's office.
``Lots of times at sentencing, the person going to jail would
come over afterward, just to shake his hand.''
There was nothing phony about Gray's concern for the rights
of the people he prosecuted, O'Neill said. One time, O'Neill
said, Gray picked up a female hitchhiker and came to realize
as they talked that she was wanted on a federal drug charge.
``He told her who he was and convinced her it was time she
came in and dealt with us,'' O'Neill recalled. ``The next
morning, he stopped by her home, picked her up and brought
her in so she could make peace with the government and get on
with her life.''
Not that Gray's tenure as U.S. Attorney wasn't tortuous at
times. He endured a bitter personal attack on his integrity
from famed defense lawyer William Kunstler in the case of
alleged West German terrorist Christian Berster.
He also oversaw the government's lengthy investigation into
an international arms smuggling scheme by Space Research
Corp, of North Troy, a case that led to brief jail sentences
for Canadian rocket scientist Gerald Bull and a colleague in
1981. Gray called the case his toughest as a prosecutor.
Although Gray was a Democrat, his admirers crossed all
political lines. Republican New York Mayor Rudolph
Giuliani got him interested in becoming a prosecutor.
Republican Attorney General John Eaton picked him as his
special prosecutor after the 1984 state police raid of an
Island Pond religious sect.
``I needed someone I could rely on and have confidence
in,'' Easton said later of his choice. ``I just have such
respect for his integrity and his ability to keep his eyes on
the legal issues.''
Democrats counted on him even more. When Gov. Madelein
Kunin needed someone in 1985 to review the state parole
system, she chose Gray. When the Bicentennial Commission
needed a chairman five years later, she tapped Gray again.
``He was always very interested in bridging public issues
and private lives,'' Kunin reflected. ``He had very clear
ethics, values and ideas and he communicated them in such a
pristine way, with a certain gentleness.''
Politics, the chance to serve the state, eventually pulled
him in.
In 1986, he worked for no pay as Leahy's full-time campaign
manager, partly because of his friendship for Leahy when the
two were prosecutors and partly to see the world of politics
up close.
And in 1988, Gray himself plunged into the electoral fray,
embarking on an uphill and ultimately losing battle for the
U.S. Senate against Republican James Jeffords, then a seven-
term member of the U.S. House.
``It was a grueling campaign and he took the defeat very
hard,'' said his campaign manager, Gary Robinson, now an
assistant to the mayor of San Jose, Calif. ``I've done a lot
of campaigns before and since. Rarely do you move from a
working relationship with the candidate to a close
friendship, but when I finished that year, I was personally
close with Bill and Sarah Gray.''
He approached his deadly struggle with his disease the same
way he did his longshot U.S. Senate battle--with
determination and no trace of self-pity. During his
hospitalization in Boston, he deepened his friendship with
another cancer warrior, former presidential candidate Paul
Tsongas, and the two spoke often of what they's been through.
``Facing serious disease has its rewards,'' he told the
Free Press last year. ``It's not all bad. There's something
enriching in the process of facing your own mortality.''
For a while a bone marrow transplant from his sister,
Connie, seemed to work. In December, he talked
enthusiastically about being appointed to the appellate judge
post his friends always felt he was destined to hold.
``I think it's something that I would like very much to
do,'' he said. ``I will be just so honored if the opportunity
comes my way.''
But then came a relapse and, on March 3, a second bone
marrow transplant at the Brigham & Women's Hospital in
Boston.
By last weekend, when a case of pneumonia had settled into
his body stripped of its immune defenses, his family and
friends began preparing for the inevitable. Gray died shortly
before 8 p.m. Tuesday with his wife, family members and
O'Neill by his side. Thankfully, he was not in any pain,
O'Neill said.
``We are just heartbroken down here,'' Judge James Oakes,
the man Gray would have replaced, said sadly Wednesday
afternoon. ``When he first told me he had the leukemia and
was going to do the bone marrow transplant, he was so brave
so dignified, so. . . .''
Oakes paused, and took a deep breath. ``I'm sorry, I can't
talk,'' he wept. ``He was just a great guy.''
career highlights
Highlights from the life of William B. Gray, 52, a former
U.S. attorney who died Tuesday night in Boston. At the time
of his death, Gray was waiting for final confirmation to the
2nd U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals based in New York City. He
would have replaced retired Chief Judge James Oakes of
Brattleboro:
October 1972: Gray is named the first assistant U.S.
Attorney for Vermont. He teamed up with his boss U.S.
Attorney George W.F. Cook to convict two Central Vermont men
for violating the civil rights of a 15 year-old Barre boy
when they killed him so he could not testify against them for
a burglary.
December 1975: Gray is appointed U.S. Associate Deputy
Attorney General and director of the executive office for all
94 U.S. Attorneys.
September 1977: Gray is sworn in as U.S. Attorney for
Vermont following his appointment by President Jimmy Carter.
Gray and his chief assistant, Jerome O'Neill, later convicted
Kristina Berster for illegal entry into Vermont in a highly
publicized case. The arrest drew international attention
because she was an alleged member of the West German Baader-
Melnhof terrorist group.
May 1981: Gray joins the Burlington law firm of Sheehy Brue
and Gray.
May 1985: Gray is asked by Gov. Madeleine Kunin to study
the Vermont Parole system after Kent Hanson kills a woman
three weeks after being released on parole. Gray said the
board acted properly, but that it has too little latitude to
deny paroles.
September 1986: Gray named to run the re-election campaign
for U.S. Sen. Patrick J. Leahy, who defeats Gov. Richard
Snelling.
February 1988: Gray formally announces he will run for the
seat being vacated by retiring U.S. Sen. Robert Stafford. He
eventually loses to Republican James M. Jeffords, who spent
14 years in the U.S. House.
____
[From the Burlington Free Press, Mar. 24, 1994]
A Vermont Loss
Bill Gray's untimely death Tuesday at 52 has left Vermont
much the poorer.
For those who knew him as a friend--and there were many--it
was as if some bright light had just gone out with the bad
news--a class act unaccountably gone.
For those who did not know him, some of his long and varied
record of public service will have to suffice:
Scrupulously fair as U.S. attorney for Vermont.
Methodical prosecutor in Space Research's illegal arms
shipment case.
Enthusiastic chairman of Vermont's Bicentennial Commission.
Active Democrat, but also Republican Gov. Richard
Snelling's non-partisan choice to investigate his
administration's handling of the Island Pond case.
Long-time friend and campaign manager to Vermont Democrat
U.S. Sen. Patrick Leahy.
Imminent choice of President Clinton to succeed Vermont
Judge James Oakes on the U.S. Second Circuit Court of
Appeals.
First and always a gentleman, Gray was next a highly
respected lawyer and public servant; then, briefly and less
comfortably but no less hopefully, a politician. His natural
soft-spoken manner fit him so well it came as a shock to hear
him try to talk tough on the stump in his unsuccessful 1988
run for the U.S. Senate. That higher-profile political role
always came to him awkwardly--a plus in other ways.
Vermont's greatest loss, though, can be found in what it
now can no longer do: count on and call on Bill Gray's fair-
mindedness in a pinch. Every community needs a complement of
such rare people, and Vermont is the poorer for having just
lost one so exceptional.
____
[From the Rutland Daily Herald, Mar. 24, 1994]
Gray Is Remembered as a Man of Integrity
(By Christopher Graff)
Montpelier.--Bill Gray was Vermont's Mister Fix-It, the
diplomat governors turned to in their times of trouble.
He was also one of the state's great success stories, a
Putney native who once held a top post in the U.S. Justice
Department and had just been tapped for one of the most
prestigious judicial posts in the country.
His interests were amazingly diverse; he was as much at
each analyzing opera as he was discussing in detail his sheep
farm in Jericho, his foreign travels or his absolute passion,
politics.
Gray, 52, died Tuesday after a two-year battle with
leukemia.
At his core Gray was a man of effervescent optimism,
describing himself as ``a product of the American dream.''
His father was a maintenance man at the private Putney
School; his mother a staff worker there with household and
nutritional duties.
``My parents worked hard, very hard,'' Gray once said.
``Although they never earned much money, we never felt poor
because they provided everything we needed to prosper. We
children will always treasure them for making the stars seem
so bright and possibilities so real.''
With his parents working there, Gray was able to go to the
Putney School; he was then able to attend Harvard University
on a scholarship. After attending law school, Gray clerked
for Judge Sterry Waterman on the U.S. 2nd Circuit Court of
Appeals, the judgeship Gray was to take if his health had
held.
His law career was outstanding, serving as associate deputy
attorney general at the U.S. Justice Department, supervising
all the U.S. attorneys, and then serving for four years as
Vermont's U.S. attorney.
In that job in 1978 he prosecuted West German Kristina
Berster in a highly publicized trial in which the federal
government termed Berster a terrorist. The courtroom drama
pitted the quiet Gray against the theatrical William
Kunstler. Gray won.
Gray handled several high-profile cases in his private law
practice in Burlington, but most Vermonters probably learned
about Gray during his ill-fated, unsuccessful race for the
U.S. Senate in 1988.
Having just chaired the highly successful 1986 re-election
bid of U.S. Sen. Patrick Leahy, Gray felt he could beat James
Jeffords in the contest for the seat being given up by Sen.
Robert Stafford.
On paper, his campaign strategy appeared strong, and Gray
worked long and hard, but Jeffords' 14 years in the U.S.
House gave him too big an edge.
Gray's greatest contribution to Vermont was serving state
leaders in their time of trouble. And it wasn't just
governors. The state Supreme Court's administrator turned to
Gray to handle a complex case concerning mandatory retirement
of judges.
Richard Snelling's darkest days as governor were following
the state's unsuccessful 1984 raid on the Northeast Kingdom
Community Church, a raid sparked by allegations of child
abuse by church members.
Following the raid, Snelling, a Republican, and then-
Attorney General John Easton, also a Republican, turned to
Gray, a Democrat, to serve, in effect, as a special
prosecutor evaluating the state's case.
____
[From the Rutland Daily Herald, Mar. 25, 1994]
William Gray
William Gray was a prosecutor, political adviser, lawyer,
political candidate and would have been a federal judge. But
after his death at age 52 on Wednesday, he is remembered
above all as a decent man.
Gray, who had been battling leukemia, was in line to become
a judge for the 2nd U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals. He would
have replaced Judge James Oakes. But he died from pneumonia
that set in because of his weakened condition at a hospital
in Boston.
Those who knew him recall his love of opera and of
politics, of the law and of baseball. But the lasting
impression is of an honest man, enthusiastic and committed,
someone to whom people of all political persuasions could
confidently turn for help.
When he ran for the U.S. Senate in 1988 against Sen. James
Jeffords, he lost handily. It was a race against a popular
incumbent, and Gray had no previous experience as a
candidate. So at best, the race was a long shot. But he had
something else working against him, too: He seemed like such
a nice person, straight-forward and honest about his ideas,
heartfelt in his feeling. Some voters probably asked
themselves: Is he really a politician?
He was more than a politician. He was a good and
trustworthy man. As a judge, he would have served the nation
well. His life of service in Vermont was proof of that.
____
[From the Burlington Free Press, Mar. 27, 1994]
Gray's Wit, Compassion Remembered
(By Tom Hacker)
Celebration of a passionate life mixed with the sadness of
unfulfilled promise Saturday as William Gray's friends said
goodbye.
More than 500 people packed the First Unitarian
Universalist Church in Burlington to honor Gray.
The former U.S. attorney and judicial nominee to the 2nd
U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals died Tuesday, ending his fight
with leukemia.
``He lives on in your lives, and in the lives of all others
who knew him,'' said Sen. Patrick Leahy, D-Vt.
``He was a friend on the sunny days, but also on the dark
days,'' said Leahy, who had nominated Gray to the appellate
judgeship. ``I remember the darkest. It was when he told me
and Marcelle about his illness. And here he was, trying to
cheer us up.''
Interspersed with the personal reminiscences, musicians and
singers--many of whom Gray had performed with as a member of
the Musica Propia and Friends choral group--fought back tears
as they rendered selection by Bach, Faure and Mozart.
Jerome O'Neill, who worked under Gray in the U.S.
Attorney's office, traced his longtime friendship with Gray
to his first acquaintance, when the two were united in the
prosecution of a man caught selling a machine gun to an
undercover federal agent.
``Here in Vermont, not everyone was sure that was a
crime,'' O'Neill remembered.
O'Neill painted a vivid image of a man of endless optimism.
``You taught us to look at a difficult situation and turn
lemons into lemonade, and do it like no other person could,''
he said. ``You will be Vermont's forever. Bill, you really
made a difference. Not many people can say that.''
Nick Littlefield, a lifelong friend who followed Gray into
the job of Assistant U.S. Attorney in New York City, said
Gray, a Putney native, had abandoned the promise of earning a
fortune in New York for a simpler life in Jericho.
``Judge Gray, your honor,'' Littlefield said, ``you brought
us love, and wit, and music, sometimes exasperating tenacity,
kindness, idealism, intellect--and, in the end, indominable
courage. You take with you our dearest love.''
At a reception after the memorial service, Leahy was
quiet--and often alone. ``It's so sad,'' he said. ``It's so
sad because it's not fair.''
The PRESIDENT pro tempore. The Senator from Oklahoma [Mr. Boren]
under the order is recognized for not to exceed 15 minutes.
____________________