Jim Kolbe

This progressive had the honor of leading a celebration of Congressman Kolbe's life with his family and friends at a brunch following his Saturday memorial service on Sunday.

Last Sunday I had the joy of celebrating the life of Jim Kolbe by giving remarks at a gathering of his friends and family at Hacienda del Sol.

I opened by noting he was a caricaturist’s challenge because he was so damned handsome. But then there was that prominent feature. The smile you could see from across the Potomac.

The previous day, Saturday, I sat in Catalina United Methodist and marveled at the diversity of Americans that gathered to say goodbye to Jim.

When the Air Force honor guard presented the flag to Hector, Jim’s husband, I was overcome with emotion thinking of my own brother’s honor guards and the Master Sergeant’s honor guards. The beautiful flag they crisply unfolded, displayed taut, and then folded back into its ceremonial triangle was a gift from Cindy McCain. The flag we saw dappled with the light cast by stained glass windows had flown over the Capitol when Senator John McCain, his best friend, lay in state at the Capitol.

Observing the range of souls present I turned to the woman next to me and whispered, ”That’s Jim. Always bringing people together.”

I sat behind Martha McSally. I saw a number of Party members that had caved to the new order and rejected the old order that Kolbe and McCain represented. I saw Mayor Romero, Supervisor Rex Scott, Toni Hellon, his honor, Ray Caroll, County Manager Jan Lesher, Mark Kimble and many other folks from across the spectrum there that afternoon.

Sunday morning I arrived early to find a quiet spot at Hacienda del Sol and began outlining my eulogy in my head when I saw Sarah Denham, Jim’s former wife, seated in the hall with me, waiting for the life celebration to begin. I was completely charmed by this lovely retired University of Arizona Professor of Educational Psychology. Or was it Psychological Education? We talked about how Jim was an insititution, an energizer bunny of sorts, and a child of the Patagonia hills and meadows.

Sarah told me about their first outing. “I’d never met a man who whistled Puccini while he hiked.”

I heard countless stories that would never make it above the fold of a daily newspaper, anecdotes of random kindnesses. Stories of Jim volunteering here in Tucson, helping constituents and welcoming visitors to D.C. into his home.

I spoke of how I was certain to dislike him after he defeated Jim McNulty.

I spoke of how at our first meeting I thanked him for his service in Vietnam as a Navy Swift Boater and spoke of my brother’s service there. I was struck by his genuine concern for my brothers, his brothers in arms, his brilliant understanding of economics, his open western spirit, his Patagonia roots, his humor and his rational political pragmatism. It was a civic joy to spar with such a bright, engaging, civil man. I miss his uncommon spirit. Jim was a happy warrior.

I saw all the qualities that would earn him 11-terms representing souther Arizona.

At the event a former aides told the story of how he was irritated by a cartoon I had drawn and waved it in front of Jim’s face. “What do you think of this?! I think it’s awful!” Hearing this I wondered which one it was.

Jim looked at it. “I think it’s funny.”

I was flattered to learn from another former aide a cartoon I had drawn hung on the wall in Jim’s Congressional office. I had draw a monument to a noble figure named Jim Kolbe, honored because he was a “normal” human being, a quality I thought so rare in political life it should be celebrated in marble.

My petty partisan political resentment was tranformed into personal admiration for Jim’s independence, his quiet Christianity, his unshakeable patriotism and his positions on a number of issues. Gentleman Jim supported a woman’s right to choose, the Equal Rights Amendment and a humane immigration policy. In 2018 his beloved Republican Party, the Party of Goldwater, branded him a RINO, a Republican in name only.

There was no room in their shrinking “Big Tent” anymore for a “Thinking Republican.” Jim became an Independent. Their loss.

Close to a dear friend who suffered a difficult closeted life I felt sympathy for Jim, a man I saw as clearly conflicted. I chose not to press Jim on his disappointing reluctance to come out. In ’96 when he finally came out I was certain Jim would be rejected by the voters.

I was wrong. Jim won re-election easily. This flaming progressive forgave him his flaws as history will.

After Jim retired he came to a party at my home and I met his wonderful husband Hector. When I asked him about the political news of the day he squinted that Kolbe squint and winced that Kolbe wince and then smiled the Kolbe smile that said can’t I just enjoy this moment? It was clear at that point in his happy life he’d be happy to talk about anything else but politics, something light, like global trade or macroeconomics.

I’m grateful we did.

On that Sunday I repeated the sentiment I expressed in my column back in October.

Jim Kolbe’s faith in the People, in Democracy, was as deep as the Grand Canyon, as strong as an Ironwood and as downright corny as a Frank Capra movie.

My friend you represented the best in all of us. For dear Hector, and all of Jim’s close friends and family, I am sorry for your loss. And ours.