Charlie

On days like these, it is hard to understand why heroes have to die. In recent weeks I have been wrestling with the knowledge that Charlie Norwood was elected to serve in the 110^th Congress with every confidence and intention of fighting the same fight he’s been engaged in since 1994. He was always one to have a million irons in the fire, and I have wondered why, at a juncture when he had the potential to do so much good and demonstrate the spirit of bipartisanship this nation so desperately needs, God would decide to take him home now.

But it has occurred to me that Charlie’s fight did not begin at the Republican Revolution. Like all of us, his battle began the day he was born, and for 65 years he waged that war with valor, dignity, strength, and a laughter that could shake the room. And while, after working in his office, I can tell you Charlie was not one to take orders easily, looking back on his life I see numerous instances in which he did just that – and it is, in many ways, his obedience that causes us to celebrate his life.

When our nation was at war, Charlie answered the call of duty, volunteering in Vietnam and seeing the horrors of humanity firsthand. Charlie returned home to Georgia out of a deep love for its people. He settled down and served his community as a dentist for over two decades. And while he may well have been content to continue that practice until the day he died, Charlie answered the call to public service when the time was right and the people of Georgia and America needed him.

And then, earlier today, surrounded by loved ones, Charlie received his final order and commendation this side of eternity – the same one recorded in Matthew 25: “Well done, good and faithful servant; you were faithful over a few things, I will make you ruler over many things. Enter into the joy of your Lord!” And for one last time this side of eternity, he obeyed.

Charlie’s example is one that transcends all barriers, all differences, and yes, even the party line. Over the last several weeks I have been moved by not just the number, but the diversity of people who have contacted the Norwoods to express their love. Democrats have come to wrap their arms around grieving staff, and our office has received thousands of emails from over 30 states of the union, many from self-described liberal Democrats who wanted Charlie to recover so he could, and I quote from one such email, “come back and give Nancy Pelosi hell.”

This shows there was something special about Charlie Norwood: he was not just a good congressman, not just a statesman. He was a good person because he recognized that politicians are people too, and he was a rare one of their number who actually treated fellow Members as people – whether that meant sharing a good laugh or being up front with them about his thoughts on an issue. That is not to say he was indulgent – Charlie was not one to suffer fools – but the difference between him and most people in Washington is that he would tell you he thought you were an idiot, and at least then things were clear. Charlie demonstrated what it is to be yourself while serving others, a much needed lesson for all of us. And that’s part of why we love him.

Charlie’s life should remind us what the true measure of a man is. We could talk about his legislative accomplishments and endeavors, for there are many; we could speak of his outspoken advocacy on behalf of the Patients’ Bill of Rights and IPF; but in recent days, and I’m sure in the weeks to come, we have been and will be reminded that what did or didn’t get signed into law in Charlie’s name isn’t what ultimately counts. What counts is that Charlie set an example of getting up every day and simply trying to do the next right thing, whether treating patients or representing his constituents. We would do well to challenge ourselves to meet that same standard – to put the needs of others before our own comfort, and remember there is no limit to what one man can do if he doesn’t mind who gets the credit. It is that spirit of service that has the ability to cross party lines, and if we all undertook that attitude in our hearts and minds, Capitol Hill would be a better place – and America would be the healthier for it.

Even in his final days, Charlie did not stop leading by example. By choosing to come home to Georgia, he was not giving up – he was simply doing what was best with the time that had been given him. Charlie understood that every day he had was a gift from his Creator and should be lived to the fullest. He also realized that this life, while rich and full and worth fighting for, should not be held too tightly.

Charlie has done his part and has heard his “well done.” We grieve for the family bereaved of a loving husband, father, and grandfather. But we celebrate with Charlie, knowing he is finally home with his Lord.

Charlie, you will always be deeply missed by those blessed to know you. You will always be my first and best boss. But as much as my heart aches in your absence and I wish I could write one more letter to be signed with your name, I rejoice knowing that you are finally whole in God’s presence and no longer have to worry about the structure of entitlement programs or immigration policy. Those are our battles to carry on now, and I am grateful for having seen firsthand the spirit in which you lived your life and hope to emulate until I too am called home.