What David McCullough Wanted Congress to Hear About History

On this episode of Our American Stories, on March 2, 1989, David McCullough stood before a joint session of Congress with a simple message: the past matters now more than ever. He spoke not as a pundit but as a poet of history, urging lawmakers to remember that their actions would one day be judged as part of our national story. In a rich narrative style, McCullough wove together images of a handcrafted clock in the Capitol and the courage of past legislators to remind his audience that history watches.

Support the show (https://www.ouramericanstories.com/donate) 

See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:09):
This is Lee Habib, and this is Our American Stories,
the show where America is the star and the American
people coming to you from the city where the West begins,
Fort Worth, Texas. The late David McCullough was a legendary
historian and author of many award winning works, such as
The Great Bridge, John Adams, The American Spirit, The Wright

(00:33):
Brothers in seventeen seventy six, the last two of which
you can find at Our American Stories. He also received
numerous honors and awards, including the Presidential Medal of Freedom,
the nation's highest civilian award. In nineteen eighty nine, McCullough
addressed Congress to celebrate the two hundred anniversary of the

(00:56):
first meeting of Congress back in seventeen eighty nine in
New York City. He talked about many things, none more
interesting than his discussion about John Quincy Adams, who, after
serving as the nation's president, returned to Congress to do
his part to end slavery. Let's take a listen.

Speaker 2 (01:19):
On a June afternoon in seventeen seventy five, before there
was ever a Congress of the United States or a
United States of America, a small boy stood with his
mother on a distant knoll, watching the Battle of Bunker Hill.
That was Adams, John Quincy Adams, diplomat, Senator, Secretary of State,

(01:43):
President of the United States, who in his lifetime had
seen more and contributed more to the history of his
time than almost anyone, and who, as no former president ever,
had returned here to the Hill to take a seat
in the House of Representatives in the twenty second Congress,
and was thrilled at the prospect. Most importantly, it was

(02:07):
here that this extraordinary American had his finest hours. Adams
took his seat in the Old House in what is
now Statuary Hall in eighteen thirty one. Small, fragile, fearing
no one, he spoke his mind and conscience. He championed
mechanical improvements and scientific inquiry to no one in Congress.

(02:31):
Are we so indebted for the establishment of the Smithsonian Institution.
With Congressman Lincoln of Illinois and Corwin of Ohio, he
cried out against the Mexican War, and for eight long years,
almost alone, he battled the infamous gag rule imposed by
Southerners to prevent any discussion of petitions against slavery. Adams

(02:56):
hated slavery. But he was fighting. He said more for
the unlimited rite of all citizens to have their petitions heard,
whatever their cause. It was a gallant fight, and he won.
The gag rule was permanently removed. Earlier this year, at
the time of the inaugural ceremonies, I heard a television

(03:17):
commentator broadcasting from Statuary Hall complain of the resonance and
echoes in the room. What resonance? What echoes? John Quincy
Adams is a reminder that giants come in all shapes
and sizes, and that at times they have walked these halls,
their voices have been heard, their spirit felt here. Listen

(03:41):
pleased to this from his diary from March twenty ninth,
eighteen forty one. The world, the flesh, all the devils
in hell are arrayed against any man who, now in
this North American Union shall dare to join the standard
of Almighty God to put down the African slave trade.
And what can I upon the verge of my seventy

(04:02):
fourth birthday, with a shaking hand, a darkening eye, a
drowsy brain, and with all my faculties dropping from me
one by one, is the teeth are dropping from my head?
What can I do for the cause of God and man?
Yet my conscience presses me on, let me but die

(04:23):
upon the breach. And how he loved the House of Representatives,
the forms and proceedings of the House. He writes, This
call of the States for petitions, the colossal emblem of
the Union over the speaker's chair, this historic news at
the clock, the echoing pillars of the hall, the tripping

(04:44):
mercuries who bear the resolutions amendments between the members and
the chair, the calls of eyes and nose, with the
different intonations of the answers from different voices, the gobbling
manner of the clerks in reading over the names, the
tone of the speaker in announcing the vote, and the
varied shades of pleasure and pain in the countenances of

(05:05):
the members on hearing It would form a fine subject
for a descriptive poem. Some nights he returned to his
lodging so exhausted he could barely crawl up the stairs.
In the winter of eighteen forty eight, at the age
of eighty, after seventeen years in the Congress, Adams collapsed
at his desk. A brass plate in the floor of

(05:29):
Statuary Hall marks the place. He was carried to the
Speaker's office, and there two days later he died. At
the end, Henry Clay in tears, was holding his hand.
Congressman Lincoln helped with the funeral arrangements. Daniel Webster wrote
the inscription for the casket.

Speaker 1 (05:51):
And a terrific job on the editing of this story
on Curation by Reagan Habib. And you've been listening to
David McCullough, who in nine addressed Congress to celebrate the
two hundredth anniversary of the first meeting of Congress back
in seventeen eighty nine. And that first meeting took place
not in Washington, DC, but in New York City. And

(06:14):
then the most poignant part of that story is the
part about John Quincy Adams and what a life lived
I mean to have experience with he experienced so young
in June of seventeen seventy five, this small boy, mccullus said,
with his mother stood on a distant knoll and watched

(06:35):
the Battle of Bunker Hill. Talk about being born into well,
let's just say, a real legacy, and how his life
ended in the winter of eighteen forty eight, after seventeen
years in Congress. At the age of eighty, Adams collapses
at his desk. A brass plate in the floor of

(06:57):
Statuary Hall marks the spot. He was carried to the
Speaker's office, and there two days later he died. The
story of John Quincy Adams here on Our American Stories

(07:28):
plea habibe here again, and I'd like to encourage you
to subscribe to our podcast on Apple Podcasts, the iHeartRadio app,
or wherever you get your podcasts. Every story we are
here is uploaded there daily, and your support goes a
long way to keeping the great stories you love from
this show coming again. Please subscribe to the Our American

(07:51):
Stories podcast at Apple Podcasts, the iHeartRadio app, or wherever
you get your podcasts.