2008 Presidential Campaign Blog

Remarks By John McCain To The Members Of The Veterans Of Foreign Wars (VFW)

REMARKS BY JOHN MCCAIN TO THE MEMBERS OF THE VETERANS OF FOREIGN WARS (VFW) 

ARLINGTON, VA -- U.S. Senator John McCain will deliver the following remarks as prepared for delivery to the members of the National VFW Headquarters in Kansas City, Missouri, at 9:45 a.m. CST:

Thank you. It is an honor to be here today. I'm always grateful to be in the company of Americans who have had the burden of serving our country in distant lands, and the honor of having proved your patriotism in difficult circumstances. Your example is a constant reminder to Americans that we have obligations to our country that are greater than our personal ambitions, and that our self-respect will owe more to how faithfully we keep those obligations than any other success we achieve in life. Among those obligations is to debate honestly issues that involve America's future security because so many Americans have sacrificed everything to keep us secure. All that is asked of the rest of us is that we do not dishonor their sacrifice by treating the cause they served so bravely as an opportunity to argue without wisdom; to divide us without care for the consequences; to advance our individual or partisan interests at the expense of America's security.

At the beginning of last year, we were engaged in a great debate about what to do in Iraq. Four years of a badly-conceived military strategy had brought us almost to the point of no return. Sectarian violence in Iraq was spiraling out of control, life had become a struggle for survival, and a full-scale civil war seemed almost unavoidable. Al Qaeda in Iraq was on the offensive. Entire Iraqi provinces were under the control of extremists and were deemed all but lost. Faced with the prospect of defeat, we had two fundamental choices. We could retreat from Iraq and accept the horrible consequences of our defeat. Or we could change strategies and try to turn things around. It was, I believe, a critical moment in our nation's history, and a time of testing for our nation's political leadership.

In the year that has passed, our nation showed its strength, and its deep sense of global responsibility. Instead of abandoning Iraq to civil war, genocide, and terror, and the Middle East to the destabilizing effects of these consequences, we changed strategies. We sent to Iraq additional troops, many of them on their third or fourth tour, and a great, seasoned general to lead them, with a battle plan that, at long last, actually addressed the challenges we faced in Iraq.

Within six months, the men and women who have made such enormous sacrifices for the rest of us dramatically turned around the situation in Iraq. From June 2007 through my most recent trip last month, sectarian and ethnic violence in Iraq has been reduced by 90 percent. Civilian deaths and deaths of coalition forces fell by 70 percent. The dramatic reduction in violence has opened the way for a return to something approaching normal political and economic life for the average Iraqi. Political reconciliation is occurring across Iraq at the local and provincial grassroots level. Sunni and Shi'a chased from their homes by terrorist and sectarian violence are returning. The "Sons of Iraq" and Awakening movements, where former Sunni insurgents have now joined in the fight against Al Qaeda, continue to grow.

Iraq's political order is also evolving in hopeful ways. Four out of the six laws cited as benchmarks by the U.S. have been passed by the Iraqi legislature. A law on amnesty and a law rolling back some of the harsher restrictions against former employees of the Iraqi government have made it possible for Iraqis to find genuine reconciliation. They should also encourage both Sunni and Shi'a to feel they have a stake in Iraq's future. The legislature has devolved greater power to local and provincial authorities, where much of the real work of rebuilding Iraqi society is taking place. Much more needs to be done, and Iraq's politicians need to know that we expect them to show the necessary leadership to rebuild their country. For only they can.

The job of bringing security to Iraq is not finished. Iraqi forces recently battled in Basra against radical Shi'a militias, supported by Iran, a fight that showed both the progress made by the Iraqi security forces -- a year ago, they could not have carried out such operations on their own -- and the continuing need for coalition support. The situation in southern Iraq remains unsettled. There continues to be a significant flow of money and weaponry from Iran into Diyala Province, Baghdad, Basra and elsewhere in support of the Iranian-backed Special Groups, the Jaysh al Mahdi, and the Badr Organization. Sunni terrorists and insurgents continue to maintain bases in Mosul and elsewhere in Ninewah Province.

But there is no doubt about the basic reality in Iraq: we are no longer staring into the abyss of defeat, and we can now look ahead to the genuine prospect of success. Success in Iraq is the establishment of a generally peaceful, stable, prosperous, democratic state that poses no threat to its neighbors and contributes to the defeat of terrorists. It is the advance of religious tolerance over violent radicalism. It is a level of security that allows the Iraqi authorities to govern, the average person to live a normal life, and international entities to operate. It is a situation in which the rule of law, after decades of tyranny, takes hold. It is an Iraq where Iraqi forces have the responsibility for enforcing security in their country, and where American troops can return home, with the honor of having secured their country's interests at great personal cost, and helping another people achieve peace and self-determination.

Today these goals are within reach. "Never despair," Winston Churchill once said. And we did not despair. We were tested, and we rose to the challenge. Some political leaders close their eyes to the progress that the surge has made possible, and want only to argue about the past. We can have that debate. I profoundly disagree with those who say we would all be better off if we had left Saddam Hussein in power. Americans should be proud that they led the way in removing a vicious dictator and opening the door to freedom, stability, and prosperity in Iraq and across the Middle East.

But the question for the next President is not about the past, but about the future and how to secure it. Our most vital security interests are at stake in Iraq. The stability of the entire Middle East, that volatile and critically important region, is at stake. The United States' credibility as a moral and political leader is at stake. How to safeguard those interests is what we should be debating.

There are those who today argue for a hasty withdrawal from Iraq. Some would withdraw regardless of the consequences. Others say that we can withdraw now and then return if trouble starts again. What they are really proposing, if they mean what they say, is a policy of withdraw and re-invade. For if we withdraw hastily and irresponsibly, we will guarantee the trouble will come immediately. Our allies, Arab countries, the UN, and the Iraqis themselves will not step up to their responsibilities if we recklessly retreat. I can hardly imagine a more imprudent and dangerous course.

Over the past year, the counterinsurgency strategy of General Petraeus has been based on the premise that establishing greater security in Iraq is indispensable to advancing political reconciliation and economic reconstruction; to making diplomatic progress in the region; and to preparing the Iraqi military to assume its responsibilities to defend the sovereignty of Iraq and the authority of its elected government. Should the United States withdraw from Iraq before that level of security is established those goals will be infinitely harder if not impossible to attain. Al Qaeda in Iraq will proclaim victory and increase its efforts to provoke sectarian tensions in Iraq into a full scale civil war that could descend into genocide and destabilize the Middle East. Iraq would be a failed state that could become a haven for terrorists to train and plan their operations. Iran's influence in Iraq -- especially southern Iraq -- and throughout the r egion would increase substantially and encourage other countries to seek accommodation with Tehran at the expense of our interests. These likely consequences of America's failure in Iraq would, almost certainly, require us to return to Iraq or draw us into a wider and far costlier war.

The American people deserve the truth from their leaders. They deserve a candid assessment of the progress we have managed to make in the last year in preventing the worst from happening in Iraq, of the very serious difficulties that remain, and of the grave consequences of a hasty, reckless, and irresponsible withdrawal. If we are honest about the opportunities and the risks, I believe they will have the patience to allow us the time necessary to obtain our objectives. That honesty is my responsibility, and it is also the responsibility of Senators Obama and Clinton, as well as Democratic and Republican leaders in Congress. Doing the right thing in the heat of a political campaign is not always the easiest thing. But when 4000 Americans have given their lives so that America does not suffer the worst consequences of our failure in Iraq, it is a necessary thing. In such a grave matter, we must put the nation's interests before our own ambitions.

The fact is, we now have a great opportunity, not only to bring stability and freedom to Iraq, but to make Iraq a pillar of our future strategy for the entire region of the greater Middle East. If we seize the opportunity before us, we stand to gain a strong, stable, democratic ally against terrorism and a strong ally against an aggressive and radical Iran.

Over the next 18 months, Iraq will conduct two landmark elections -- for provincial governments and for the national government. On my most recent trip to Iraq, I met dozens of shopkeepers, workers, city council officials and others, who want Iraqis from all backgrounds to elect local leaders charged with making decisions that reflect the needs and desires of the local populations -- not the preferences of Baghdad elites. If we sustain the current progress, those elections can be held in relative freedom and security for the first time since the fall of Saddam. We should welcome a larger United Nations role in supporting the elections under the capable leadership of its Special Envoy, Steffan de Mistura, who is already playing a key role in mediating disputes in areas like Kirkuk.

Throughout this period, we must continue to help the Iraqis protect themselves against the terrorists and the insurgents. We must press ahead against the radical Shi'ite militias and the Iranian-backed Special Groups, and support the Iraqi government's efforts to defeat them. We must continue to support the Sunni volunteers of the Iraqi Awakening as they stand up to Al-Qaeda in Iraq, especially in the ongoing battle for Mosul. And we must continue to build the capacities of the Iraqi Security Forces so that they can play an increasingly strong and neutral role in suppressing sectarian violence.

All this will require that we keep a sufficient level of American forces in Iraq until security conditions are such that our commanders on the ground recommend otherwise. It also means we must increase levels of reconstruction assistance, so that Iraq's political and economic development can proceed in the security that our forces and Iraqi Security Forces provide. Above all, it means we must once again reject, as we did in early 2007, the calls for a reckless and irresponsible withdrawal of our forces just at the moment when they are succeeding.

Economic progress is essential if the security gains in Iraq are to be sustained. The once silent and deserted markets have come back to life in many areas, but high unemployment rates continue to fuel criminal and insurgent violence. To move young men away from the attractions of well-funded extremists, we need a vibrant, growing Iraqi economy. The Iraqi government can jump-start this process by using a portion of its budget surplus to employ Iraqis in infrastructure projects and in restoring basic services. The international community should augment Iraqi efforts by broadly enhancing the proven success of microfinance programs to spur entrepreneurship at local levels throughout the country and Iraq's Arab neighbors should invest in regional stability by using the fruits of their oil exports to directly invest in Iraq. As these efforts begin to take hold in Iraq, it will be -- as in all countries -- the private sector that creates the vas t majority of jobs and propels the growth that will end reliance on outside aid.

I do not want to keep our troops in Iraq a minute longer than necessary to secure our interests there. Our goal is an Iraq that can stand on its own as a democratic ally and a responsible force for peace in its neighborhood. Our goal is an Iraq that no longer needs American troops. And I believe we can achieve that goal, perhaps sooner than many imagine. But I do not believe that anyone should make promises as a candidate for President that they cannot keep if elected. To promise a withdrawal of our forces from Iraq, regardless of the calamitous consequences to the Iraqi people, our most vital interests, and the future of the Middle East, is the height of irresponsibility. It is a failure of leadership.

I know the pain war causes. I understand the frustration caused by our mistakes in this war. And I regret sincerely the additional sacrifices imposed on the brave Americans who defend us. But I also know the toll a lost war takes on an army and on our country's security. By giving General Petraeus and the men and women he has the honor to command the time and support necessary to succeed in Iraq we have before us a hard road. But it is the right road. It is necessary and just. Those who disregard the unmistakable progress we have made in the last year and the terrible consequences that would ensue were we to abandon our responsibilities in Iraq have chosen another road. It may appear to be the easier course of action, but it is a much more reckless one, and it does them no credit even if it gives them an advantage in the next election.

We all respect the sacrifices made by our soldiers. We all mourn the losses they have suffered in this war. But let us honor them by doing all we can to ensure their sacrifices were not made in vain. Let us show an appropriate humility by recognizing that so little is asked of us compared to the burdens we imposed on them, and let us show just a small, but significant measure of their courage, resolve and patriotism by putting our country's interests before every personal or political consideration.

War is a terrible thing. You know that better than most; you who have borne the heartache and deprivations of war so that our country might be secure in its freedom. I hold my position on Iraq not because I am indifferent to the suffering caused by this war but because I detest war, and believe sincerely that should we fail in Iraq we will face an even sterner test in the very near future, an even harder war, with even greater sacrifice and heartbreaking loss than we have suffered over the last five years.

It is every veteran's hope that should their children be called upon to answer a call to arms, the battle will be necessary and the field well chosen. But that is not their responsibility. It belongs to the government that called them. As it once was for you, their honor will be in their answer not their summons. Whatever we think about how and why we went to war in Iraq, we are all -- those who supported the decision that placed them in harm's way and those who opposed it -- humbled by and grateful for their example. We know how little has been asked of others compared to their service, and the terrible sacrifice made by those who have not returned to the country they loved so well. They now deserve the distinction of the best Americans, and we owe them a debt we can never fully repay. We can only offer the small tribute of our humility and our commitment to do all that we can do, in less trying and costly circumstances, to help keep this nation worthy of their sacrifice.

The sacrifices made by veterans deserve to be memorialized in something more lasting than marble or bronze or in the fleeting effect of a politician's speeches. Your valor and devotion to duty have earned your country's abiding concern for your welfare. And when our government forgets to honor our debts to you, it is a stain upon America's honor. The Walter Reed scandal recalled, I hope, not just government but the public who elected it, to our responsibilities to the men and women who risked life and limb to meet their responsibilities to us. Such a disgrace is unworthy of the greatest nation on earth. As the greatest leaders in our history, George Washington and Abraham Lincoln, instructed us, care for Americans who fought to defend us should rank among the highest of national priorities.

Those who have borne the burden of war for our sake must be treated fairly and expeditiously as they seek compensation for disability or illness. We owe them compassion, knowledge and hands-on care in their transition to civilian life. We owe them training, rehabilitation and education. We owe their families, parents and caregivers our concern and support. They should never be deprived of quality medical care and mental health care coverage for illness or injury incurred as a result of their service to our country.

As President, I will do everything in my power to ensure that those who serve today and those who have served in the past have access to the highest quality health, mental health and rehabilitative care in the world. The disgrace of Walter Reed must not be forgotten. Neither should we accept a situation in which veterans are denied access to care due to great travel distances, backlogs of appointments, and years of pending disability evaluation and claims. I believe that we should give veterans the option to use a simple plastic card to receive timely and accessible care at a convenient location through a provider of their choosing. I will not stand for requiring veterans to make an appointment to stand in line to make an appointment to stand in line for substandard care of the injuries you have suffered to keep our country safe. Whatever our commitments to veterans cost, we will keep them, as you have kept every commitment to us. The honor of a gre at nation is at stake.

As we meet, in Iraq and Afghanistan, American soldiers, Marines, sailors and airmen are fighting bravely and tenaciously in battles that are as dangerous, difficult and consequential as the great battles of our armed forces' storied past. Many of them have had their tours extended longer than they were initially told. Others who had already served two or three tours returned to combat sooner than they had been led to expect. It is a sad and hard thing to ask so much more of Americans who have already given more than their fair share to the defense of our country. Few of them and their families would have greeted the news without feeling greatly disappointed, and without offering a few well deserved complaints in the direction of those of us who have imposed on them this additional hardship. Then they shouldered a rifle and risked everything -- everything -- to accomplish their mission, to protect another people's freedom and our own countr y from harm.

It is a privilege beyond measure to live in a country served so well by such selfless patriots. God bless and protect them.

STATEMENT BY JOHN MCCAIN ON CHARLTON HESTON

STATEMENT BY JOHN MCCAIN ON CHARLTON HESTON

ARLINGTON, VA -- U.S. Senator John McCain today issued the following statement remembering the life of Charlton Heston:

"Our hearts and prayers go out to the family and friends of Charlton Heston. In taking on epic and commanding roles, he showed himself to be one of our nation's most gifted actors, and his legacy will forever be a part of our cinema. Off-the-screen, Charlton Heston was also a real-life leader. He served his country and proudly gave his voice in support of some of our most basic rights. He was devoted to the cause of freedom for all Americans from the battle for civil rights in the 1960s to protecting Second Amendment rights in the 1990s. At this time of grief, let us honor a life that has truly touched millions."

Remarks By John McCain's During "Service to America" Tour Event In Prescott, Arizona

REMARKS BY JOHN MCCAIN DURING "SERVICE TO AMERICA" TOUR EVENT IN PRESCOTT, ARIZONA

ARLINGTON, VA -- U.S. Senator John McCain will deliver the following remarks as prepared for delivery on the final stop of his "Service to America" tour today at Yavapai County Courthouse in Prescott, Arizona at 10:00 a.m. MST:

Thank you. As everyone familiar with Arizona politics knows, Prescott is where Barry Goldwater formally began his Senate campaigns and his campaign for the presidency on the steps of the Yavapai County Courthouse. As his successor and in deference to his tradition, I have ended all my Senate campaigns here.

Prescott, Arizona's territorial capital, occupies a special place in the history of Arizona, and in the Goldwater legend. Barry's grandfather, Michael, opened a dry goods store here. Mo Udall's grandfather, David, served in the legislature. David Udall was prosecuted for perjury in a land claim dispute. Michael Goldwater posted his bail. The former was the patriarch of what would become the most prominent Democratic family in Arizona. The latter was the patriarch of Arizona's most famous Republican family. The Goldwater and Udall families began with that long ago act of generosity a long friendship. The grandsons of Michael and David, despite differences in political parties and philosophies, were very close friends. The friendship of Barry Goldwater and Mo Udall was based in their mutual respect for each other's character, devoted service to the state they loved, and patriotism. It seems antiquated these days, but however much they might have disag reed with each other's policy views, neither man ever had any doubt that the other acted at all times out of devotion to Arizona and the United States.

Barry Goldwater, conservative icon and authentic maverick, did more than any single person to break the Democratic Party's hold on Arizona politics, and the East Coast's hold on the Republican Party. He was irascible and principled, fiercely independent and deeply patriotic. He was his own man always and his country's loyal servant.

Barry once said he was "better equipped to be a military officer than a politician. There's no greater service to this country than the defense of its freedom." That self-assessment was uncharacteristically mistaken. Barry was a superb military officer, but he was also an extraordinarily accomplished politician. That he was an unusually open, honest and no-nonsense politician did not make him unsuited for the profession, only uncommon. In uniform and in politics, Barry's purpose was the defense of freedom, and nobody before or since managed the task more ably or more colorfully. He was an authentic, original and passionate patriot.

Simply put, he was in love with freedom. He could never abide any restriction on its exercise as long as that exercise did not interfere with someone else's freedom. No matter the prevailing political sensibilities, no matter the personal risk to his career, no political gain was so important to Barry that it was worth infringing on another American's freedom.

Americans conceive of freedom in many ways: the freedom to be left alone or to join with others in a common purpose; the freedom to prosper or to waste; the freedom to worship God in whatever way we choose or not to worship at all; the freedom to say whatever we like or to remain silent; the freedom to succeed or to fail; the freedom to be brave or cowardly; the freedom to be generous or selfish; to be prideful or humble; to be good or not.

Barry defended freedom in all its manifestations because he saw what freedom conferred on America -- self-determination; opportunity; the restless, striving industry that carved a civilization out of the wilderness of the West; and the distinction of being the last, best hope of humanity, the haven and advocate for all who believe in the God-given dignity of the human being.

He rose to prominence in the country he loved; became a great man, without ever losing his authentic identity. He has his own chapter in American political history because he knew where he stood and why, and his example rang as true to his countrymen as it did to him.

Like Barry, Mo Udall rose to prominence in Arizona and the country without ever losing his authenticity. He graced our nation's politics for thirty years with humility, kindness and a legendary wit. Like Barry, he ran unsuccessfully for President. He had known important victories and hard defeats. And like Barry, he was never changed by either. Barry once said Mo was the most popular man in Arizona. Mo described himself as a "One-eyed Mormon Democrat from conservative Arizona, and you can't have a higher handicap than that."

The foundation in Tucson that bears his name took as its motto, "civility, integrity and consensus." Those were the attributes that distinguished Mo Udall in his public and his personal life. He was a man of great accomplishment in a tough business. But he remained throughout his life and career, a man of uncommon decency, with firm liberal principles but intent on finding common ground with people of different political views in order to serve his country better. He was famously funny, which everyone loved about him. He employed humor not simply to entertain, but as a subtle instrument to calm troubled waters; to instruct the uninformed; to humble the arrogant, and to inspire us all to be better and to do better. "The best political humor," he said, "has a little love behind it. It's the spirit of the humor that counts ... over the years it has served me when nothing else could." It served us well, too.

Barry and Mo, a proud conservative and a liberal reformer, went to Washington to fight for what they believed was right for this country. They were more often than not on opposite sides of the great debates of their time. But the personal regard they had for each other, and their deep love of this beautiful state, made it easy for them to work together often on behalf of Arizona. Both men also shared a personal commitment to improving the lives of Native Americans. "Never lie to them," Mo once told me, "they've been lied to enough." One journalist, who described the relationship between another conservative and Mo Udall, could have been describing the friendship of Barry and Mo. "It was one man saying to another, we disagree in politics but not in life. ... Party political differences cut only so deep. Having made that step, they found much to agree on and many useful ways to work together."

Barry Goldwater and Mo Udall were the famous sons of Arizona pioneer families. I was forty-five years old when I moved to Arizona, and finally found a home and the comfortable feeling of belonging to something smaller than a nation. I was introduced to Arizona by my wife, Cindy, whose love for this place I soon shared. Guided by her superior judgment, to which I am always indebted, we made the decision to raise our children here. This place has come to mean so much to me for many reasons. But first among them, is my family, whose happiness and mine is inseparable from our love of life in Arizona.

When I entered politics here, I was viewed with resentment by some for my lack of an Arizona pedigree. And in truth, although I worked hard, I did not know as much about the state as one of its representatives to Congress should know. Moreover, in my two terms in the House, I had the reputation of an often confrontational partisan.

Mo Udall was the Chairman of the House Interior Committee, a Democratic Party elder, accomplished legislator, one of the most respected members of the House, and, of course, a beloved and revered figure in Arizona. In the current political culture, the differences between Mo and me, in our politics, personalities, and backgrounds would make our friendship and occasional political alliance seem an unlikely development. But we were friends, and we did work together to protect the natural heritage and resources of the state we served, and on behalf of the Native Americans who live here. That was almost entirely Mo's doing, and I am as grateful to him as I am to any person for teaching me not only how to be a better public servant, but a better man.

I was the most junior minority member of the Interior Committee. After the first Committee hearing I attended, I was surprised when the Chairman asked to speak to me privately. We talked about some of the issues the Committee would address that year, and he advised me that Arizonans had a tradition of working together in Congress, despite differences in party affiliations, on issues important to the state. He reminded me that he and Barry were good friends, and expressed the hope that he and I would be too. I was bowled over by his gesture and left the meeting convinced that a relationship with Mo Udall would be the biggest break I was likely to receive at the start of my political career. As it turned out, it was one of the biggest breaks of my life.

In the spring of my first year in Congress, Mo invited me to accompany him to Casa Grande, Arizona, where he was going to hold a press conference to talk about issues before the Committee affecting the state. His stature in Arizona was infinitely greater than mine. He could turn out a much bigger crowd than any group willing to waste a Saturday afternoon listening to me. He spoke first and very knowledgably. As he addressed each issue, he would preface his comments with, "Congressman McCain and I are working on this." Of course, we weren't. Not me, anyway, not yet. I barely understood the difference between the U.S, Forest Service and the Bureau of Land Management, and couldn't tell a copper mine from a cotton farm. At the end of his performance, he paused and said he was more interested in my thoughts on the issues. I gulped and managed to spend a few minutes faking some competence without completely embarrassing myself.

I knew Mo's affected confidence in me was an act of kindness and offered with the trust that I would eventually learn enough about the issues to warrant his faith. He was deliberately sharing his prestige with me to help me build greater credibility with my constituents, an uncommonly generous thing to do on behalf of a member of the opposite party. But Mo never saw me as a threat or even as an uninformed, inexperienced and somewhat presumptuous politician. To him, I was a well-intentioned servant of my country, and a fellow Arizonan, who might someday be able to help him accomplish important things for our state. He trusted me, and I wanted very much to convince him that he had not made a mistake.

We drove back together to Phoenix that day without our staffs present. I listened to Mo talk about Arizona, about Barry and the territorial politics their families had figured so prominently in. All of it was fascinating and useful to me as I struggled to understand my new profession and my new state. We parted that day as friends, and friends we remained for the rest of his life.

We have many challenges before our country, both at home and abroad: challenges such as entitlement reform, energy security, health care, the housing crisis, and a global threat from Islamic extremists, to name a few of the most important, that require a strict attention to our responsibilities as public servants and our recognition that we cannot discharge those responsibilities to the satisfaction of the people we serve unless we work cooperatively across party lines without compromising our principles. Despite the increasing harshness of our debates, and the lack of respect it often occasions for each side's good will, I still believe we can and must come together on issues that cannot be addressed without our cooperation. Mo Udall and Barry Goldwater taught me to believe that we are Americans first and partisans second, and I want to be a President that honors their faith in us.

We have our disagreements, we Americans. We contend regularly and enthusiastically over many questions: over the size and purposes of our government; over the social responsibilities we accept in accord with the dictates of our conscience; over our role in the world and how to defend our security interests and values in places where they are threatened. These are important questions; worth arguing about. We should contend over them with one another. It is more than appropriate, it is necessary that even in times of crisis, especially in times of crisis, we fight among ourselves for the things we believe in. It is not just our right, but our civic and moral obligation.

But we deserve more than tolerance from one another, we deserve each other's respect, whether we think each other right or wrong in our views, as long as our character and sincerity merit respect, and as long as we share, for all our differences, for all the noisy debates that enliven our politics, a mutual devotion to the sublime idea that this nation was conceived in -- that freedom is the inalienable right of mankind, and in accord with the laws of nature and nature's Creator.

We have so much more that unites us than divides us. We need only to look to the enemy who now threatens us, and the benighted ideals to which Islamic extremists pledge allegiance -- their disdain for the rights of Man, their contempt for innocent human life -- to appreciate how much unites us.

Let us argue with each other then. By all means, let us argue. Our differences are not petty, they often involve cherished beliefs, and represent our best judgment about what is right for our country and humanity. Let us defend those beliefs. Let's do so sincerely and strenuously. It is our right and duty to do so.

Let us exercise our responsibilities as free people. But let us remember, we are not enemies. We are compatriots defending ourselves from a real enemy. We have nothing to fear from each other. We are arguing over the means to better secure our freedom, promote the general welfare and defend our ideals. It should remain an argument among friends; each of us struggling to hear our conscience, and heed its demands; each of us, despite our differences, united in our great cause, and respectful of the goodness in each other.

Ten years have passed since Barry Goldwater and Mo Udall, the best of friends, honorable public servants and Arizona's favorite sons, died in the same year. But their example showed us how to be better Americans, better people. I intend to wage this campaign and to govern this country in a way that they would be proud of me as I have always been proud of them.

Thank you.

Remarks By John McCain During "Service to America" Tour Event In Jacksonville, Florida

REMARKS BY JOHN MCCAIN DURING "SERVICE TO AMERICA" TOUR EVENT IN JACKSONVILLE, FLORIDA

ARLINGTON, VA -- U.S. Senator John McCain will deliver the following remarks as prepared for delivery today, the fourth day of his "Service to America" tour, at Cecil Field in Jacksonville, Florida at 9:00 a.m. EST:

Thank you.  For many years in my life, I lacked a fixed address for any significant length of time.  Jacksonville came closer to being a hometown for me than any place in the country.  My family lived here before I went to war, and this is the place I came home to after the war.  We lived here again in 1974 for two years, when I was Executive Officer, and then Commanding Officer of VA 174, the Replacement Air Group at Cecil Field.  So it always feels a bit like a homecoming whenever I return here. 

This place was never more special to me than during my unexpectedly long deployment overseas, when the good people of this place looked after my family in my absence.  I have always been indebted to Florida friends and neighbors in Orange Park for taking such good care of my family while I was away.

Our neighbors in Orange Park, many of whom, but not all, were Navy families, were extraordinarily kind and generous while I was in Vietnam.  They were the mainstay of my family's support.  They helped with the maintenance of our home, took my children to sporting events, offered whatever counsel and support was needed, and generally helped keep my family together, body and soul, until I could get back to them.  They were nothing less than an extended family to my family, and their love and concern were as much a mark of their good character as it was a blessing to the people they helped. 

My daughter, Sidney, was an infant when I first left for Vietnam.  She did not know me, or I her very well, when I returned many years later to find a bright and cheerful six year old little girl waiting for me.  I, too, was a different person when we were reunited than I had been when we parted.  Not in every respect, but certainly in important ways.

In the upheaval of war, that great leveler of ego and distinction, things change.  War is a remorseless scavenger, hacking through the jungle of deceit, pretense, and self-delusion to find truth, some of it ugly, some of it starkly beautiful; to find virtue and expose iniquity where we never expected them to reside.  No other human experience exists on the same plane.  It is a surpassing irony of war, for all the horrors and heroism it occasions, it provides the soldier with every conceivable human experience.  Experiences that usually take a lifetime to know are all felt, and felt intensely, in one brief passage of life.  Anyone who loses a loved one knows what great sorrow feels like.  And any one who gives life to a child knows what great joy feels like.  The combat veteran knows what great loss and great joy feel like when they occur in the same moment, the same experience.  It can be transforming. 

In Vietnam, where I formed the closest friendships of my life, some of those friends never came home to the country they loved so well.  I detest war.  It might not be the worst thing to befall human beings, but it is wretched beyond all description.  Not the valor with which it is fought nor the nobility of the cause it serves, can glorify war. Whatever gains are secured, it is loss the veteran remembers most keenly. Only a fool or a fraud sentimentalizes the merciless reality of war.  However heady the appeal of a call to arms, however just the cause, we should still shed a tear for all that is lost when war claims its wages from us. 

However glorious the cause, it does not define the experience of war.  War mocks our idealized conceptions of glory, whether they are genuine and worthy or something less.  War has its own truths. And if glory can be found in war, it is a different concept altogether.  It is a hard-pressed, bloody, and soiled glory, steely and forbearing.  It is decency and love persisting amid awful degradation, in unsurpassed suffering, misery, and cruelty.  It is the discovery that we belong to something bigger than ourselves. 

In the immediacy, chaos, destruction and shock of war, soldiers are bound by duty and military discipline to endure and overcome.  Their duty and loyalty belong to their country.  They find solace in their faith in God.  But their strongest loyalty, the bond that cannot break, is to the cause that is theirs alone each other.  It is through loyalty to comrades in arms that they begin to understand that to love one's country is to love one's countrymen, and to serve the national ideal that commenced their personal transformation.  When war is over, they might have the largest but not exclusive claim on the success of their nation's cause and seldom share in the blame for its failure.  But their claim is shorn of all romance, all nostalgia for the suffering with which it was won.  From that crucible they have but one prize, one honor: that they had withstood the savagery and losses of war and were found worthy by the men who stood with them.

This is the truth of war, of honor and courage.  Before I went to war its meaning was obscure to me, hidden in the spare language of men who had gone to war before me and been changed forever by the experience.  The Naval Academy, with its inanimate and living memorials to fidelity and valor, tried to teach this truth to me.  But I had interpreted the lesson, as I had interpreted my father's example, within the limits of my vanity.  I thought glory was the object of war, and all glory was self-glory.

No more.  For I had learned the truth: there are greater pursuits than self-seeking.  Glory is not a conceit.  It is not a decoration for valor. It is not a prize for being the strongest, the most clever, or the boldest. Glory belongs to the act of being constant to something greater than yourself, to the cause, to your principles, to the people on whom you rely, and who rely on you in return.  No misfortune, no injury, no humiliation can destroy it. 

The quality of persevering for your own sake, for your reputation or your sense of personal honor is good but over valued.  Persevering with others for a common goal is not only more satisfying in the end, but teaches you something about life you might not have known before, and can influence your direction in ways your own fortitude never could. I once thought I was man enough for almost any confrontation.  In prison, I discovered I was not.  I tried to use every personal resource I had to confound my captors, and it wasn't enough in the end.  But when I had reached the limit of my endurance, the men I had the honor of serving with picked me up, set me right, and sent me back into the fight.  I became dependent on others to a greater extent than I had ever been before. And I am a better man for it.  We had met a power that wanted to obliterate our identities, and the cause to which we rallied was our response: we are free men, bound inseparably together, and by the grace of God and not your sufferance we will have our freedom restored to us.  I have never felt more powerfully free, more my own man, than when I was a small part of an organized resistance to the power that imprisoned us.

That lesson made me a better officer, too.  When I came to Cecil Field and eventually assumed command of VA 174, the largest squadron in the Navy, the state of military readiness in the United States was very low.  And my squadron's readiness was no exception.  We had about fifty planes, and nearly half of them were in such bad shape they had been grounded.  I was determined to improve the situation, but I knew my own determination wouldn't be sufficient to do so.  I struck a deal with my superiors that if they allowed me to move parts from one plane to another, before my tour was finished we would have every one of them in the air.  No plan to restore the squadron's readiness could have succeeded without the extraordinary determination and resourcefulness of the pilots, staff and crew I served with.  They numbered nearly a thousand, and they were as highly committed, hardworking, innovative people as any officer ever had the honor to command.  They worked diligently toward a common goal, and took pride in the achievements of a team and didn't view individual accomplishment as the primary focus of their energy.  Of course, the squadron's purpose was to train aviators, but the men and women of VA 174 knew that they were serving a greater purpose: to demonstrate the resolve of the United States Navy to overcome the decline in morale and readiness that temporarily afflicted the military after the Vietnam War.

On the last day of my command, my Executive Officer and friend, Carl Smith, kept my promise to my superiors and took off in the last of the squadron's grounded planes.  The plane was barely ready for the test and flew with its landing gear down.  But we had achieved our goal.  We had gotten every airplane off the ground, set a record for the longest flying hours without an accident, and received the first Meritorious Unit Citation ever awarded VA 174.  The experience was the most rewarding assignment of my Navy career.

There are many qualities to military service that make it such a special profession.  But among the most important is the ability to get things done no matter how difficult, confused or unexpected the situation.  There is an old military maxim that battle plans never survive the first encounter with the enemy.  Soldiers are taught to expect the unexpected and accept it, and revise, improvise, and fight their way through any adversity.  That doesn't mean the soldier doesn't grumble or complain about unexpected changes in their fortunes, but they are trained to get things done no matter the circumstances. 

That is an ethic that should imbue all public service in this country, and it should be the quality all Americans demand from their elected leaders.  We are the most accomplished nation in history, and our system of government is superior to any other.  But we have much to do in this historically pivotal era of great change and challenge, to ensure, as every preceding American generation has, that the country we leave our children is even better than the one we inherited. 

To keep our nation prosperous, strong and growing we have to rethink, reform and reinvent: the way we educate our children; train our workers; deliver health care services; support retirees; fuel our transportation network; stimulate research and development; and harness new technologies.

To defend ourselves we must do everything better and smarter than we did before. We must rethink, renew and rebuild the structure and mission of our military; the capabilities of our intelligence and law enforcement agencies; the purposes of our alliances, the reach and scope of our diplomacy, and the capacities of all branches of government to defend us against the peril we now face. We need to marshal all elements of American power: our military, economy, investment, trade and technology. We need to strengthen our alliances, and build support in other nations, which must, whether they believe it or not, confront the same threat to their way of life that we do.

We must also prepare, across all levels of government, far better than we have done, to respond quickly and effectively to another terrorist attack or natural calamity. I am not an advocate of big government, and the private sector has an important role to play in homeland security. But when Americans confront a catastrophe, either natural or man-made, their government, across jurisdictions, should be organized and ready to deliver bottled drinking water to dehydrated babies and rescue the aged and infirm trapped in a hospital with no electricity.

We can leave these difficult problems to our unlucky successors, after they've grown worse, and harder to fix. Or we can bring all parties to the table, and hammer out principled solutions to the challenges of our time:

to strengthen our military, intelligence, diplomacy, and law enforcement and use the power of American ideals and commerce to win the war against violent extremists, and help the majority of Muslims who believe in progress and peace to win the struggle for the soul of Islam;

to balance the federal budget not with smoke and mirrors but by encouraging economic growth and preventing government from spending your money on things it shouldn't; to hold it accountable for the money it does spend on services that only government can provide in ways that don't fail and embarrass you;

to save Social Security and Medicare on our watch without the tricks, band-aid solutions, lies and posturing that have failed us for too long while the problem became harder and harder to solve;

to make our tax code simpler, fairer, flatter, more pro-growth and pro-jobs;

to reduce our dangerous dependence on foreign sources of oil with an energy policy that encourages American industry and technology to make our country safer, cleaner and more prosperous by leading the world in the use, development and discovery of alternative sources of energy;

to open new markets to American goods and services, create more and better jobs for the American worker and overhaul unemployment insurance and our redundant and outmoded programs for assisting workers who have lost a job that's not coming back to find a job that won't go away;

to help Americans without health insurance acquire it without bankrupting the country, and ruining the quality of American health care that is the envy of the world;

to make our public schools more accountable to parents and better able to meet the critical responsibility they have to prepare our children for the challenges they'll face in the world they'll lead.

We are not a perfect nation. Our history has had its moments of shame and profound regret. But what we have achieved in our brief history is irrefutable proof that a nation conceived in liberty will prove stronger, more decent and more enduring than any nation ordered to exalt the few at the expense of the many or made from a common race or culture or to preserve traditions that have no greater attribute than longevity.

But as blessed as we are, no nation complacent in its greatness can long sustain it. We, too, must prove, as those who came before us proved, capable of the work history has assigned us.  Nothing is inevitable in America.  Nothing.  We're the world's leader, and leaders don't pine for the past and dread the future. We make the future better than the past. We don't hide from history. We make history. That, my friends, is the essence of hope in America, hope built on courage, and faith in the values that have made us great. I intend to make my stand on those principles and help move this country forward, to our future greatness, and trust in the judgment, decency and resolve of the people I have served all my life.

Thank you.

John McCain 2008 Launches New Ad: "Ready"

JOHN MCCAIN 2008 LAUNCHES NEW AD: "READY"

ALEXANDRIA, VA -- U.S. Senator John McCain's presidential campaign today released a new ad, entitled "Ready," responding to Senator Clinton's attack ad out today.

Script For "Ready" (:30)

ANNCR: It's 3 a.m. and your children are safe and asleep.

But there's a phone ringing in the White House and this time the crisis is economic. Home foreclosures mounting, markets teetering.

Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama just said they'd solve the problem by raising your taxes. More money out of your pocket.

John McCain has a better plan. Grow jobs, grow our economy not grow Washington.

It's 3 a.m., time for a president who is ready.

Remarks By John McCain During "Service To America" Tour Event In Annapolis, Maryland

REMARKS BY JOHN MCCAIN DURING "SERVICE TO AMERICA" TOUR EVENT IN ANNAPOLIS, MARYLAND

ARLINGTON, VA -- U.S. Senator John McCain will deliver the following remarks as prepared for delivery during the third stop of his "Service to America" tour today at the United States Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland at 9:15 a.m. EST:

Thank you. I am very happy to be here. Annapolis holds a special place in my life, and in the years that have passed since my father drove me to the gates of the Naval Academy to begin my plebe year, memories of my experiences here are often bathed in the welcome haze of nostalgia for the time when I was brave and true and better looking than I am at present. But witnesses to my behavior here, a few of whom are present today, as well as a nagging conscience, have a tendency to interrupt my reverie for a misspent youth, and urge a more honest appraisal of my record and character here. In truth, my four years at the Naval Academy were not notable for exemplary virtue or academic achievement but, rather, for the impressive catalogue of demerits I managed to accumulate. By my reckoning, at the end of my second class year, I had marched enough extra duty to take me to Baltimore and back seventeen times -- which, if not a record, certainly ranks somewhere very near the top.

Never in my wildest flights of youthful fancy did I imagine I would one day be honored to give the commencement address at the Academy as I was some years ago. And, certainly, no matter how inflated was my self-regard as a midshipman, it could never have admitted the prospect that I would someday return to the banks of the Severn as a candidate for President of the United States. My old company officer, who for four years devoted himself to tracking my nocturnal sojourns outside the walls of the Academy and my other petty acts of insubordination, would have certainly shared my skepticism. But in the intervening years and experiences, I have learned what a young man seldom appreciates: that life is rich with irony and unexpected twists of fate, and is all the more fascinating for them. And I learned this, too: that my accomplishments are more a testament to my country, the land of opportunity, than they are to me. In America , everything is possible.

I had a difficult time my plebe year adjusting to the discipline imposed on me, which included, of course, deference to officers and instructors, but to other midshipmen, whose only accomplishment entitling them to my obedience, I thought at the time, was to have been born a year or more before me. I was something of a discipline problem to begin with. The problem being, I didn't like discipline. And that childish impulse that seemed then so important to my self-respect; to protecting the individualism I had been at pains to assert throughout my itinerant childhood, encouraged my irreverence to some of the customs of this place.

It's funny, now, how less self-assured I feel later in life than I did when I lived in the perpetual springtime of youth. Some of my critics allege that age hasn't entirely cost me my earlier conceits. All I can say to them is they should have known me then. But as the great poet, Yeats, wrote, "All that's beautiful drifts away, like the waters." I've lost some of the attributes that were the object of a young man's vanity. But there have been compensations, which I have come to hold dear.

If I had ignored some of the less important conventions of the Academy, I was careful not to defame its more compelling traditions: the veneration of courage and resilience; the honor code that simply assumed your fidelity to its principles; the homage paid to Americans who had sacrificed greatly for our country; the expectation that you, too, would prove worthy of your country's trust.

Appearances to the contrary, it was never my intention to mock a revered culture that expected better of me. Like any other midshipman, I wanted to prove my mettle to my contemporaries and to the institution that figured so prominently in my family history. My idiosyncratic methods amounted to little more than the continued expressions of the truculence I had used at other schools to fend off what I had wrongly identified as attacks on my dignity.

The Naval Academy was not interested in degrading my dignity. On the contrary, it had a more expansive conception of human dignity than I possessed when I arrived at its gates. The most important lesson I learned here was that to sustain my self-respect for a lifetime it would be necessary for me to have the honor of serving something greater than my self-interest.

When I left the Academy, I was not even aware I had learned that lesson. In a later crisis, I would suffer a genuine attack on my dignity, an attack, unlike the affronts I had exaggerated as a boy, that left me desperate and uncertain. It was then I would recall, awakened by the example of men who shared my circumstances, the lesson that the Academy in its venerable and enduring way had labored to impress upon me. It changed my life forever. I had found my cause: citizenship in the greatest nation on earth.

Like most people, when I reflect back on the adventures and joys of youth, I feel a longing for what is lost and cannot be restored. But though such happy pursuits prove ephemeral, something better can endure, and endure until our last moment on earth. And that is the honor you earn and the love you give when you sacrifice with others for a cause greater than yourself.

Our civilization's progress is accelerated by the information-technology revolution that ranks with the industrial revolution as a great pivot point in history. All around the world, the dynamics of the new economy: the internet, the communications revolution and globalization are transforming the way we work and create value; the way we govern ourselves -- or others presume to govern us; the way we live.

But even as we stand today, at the threshold of an age in which the genius of America will, I am confident, again be proven -- the genius that historian Frederick Turner called "that restless, nervous energy; that dominant individualism ... that buoyancy and exuberance which comes with freedom" -- many Americans are indifferent to or cynical about the virtues that our country claims. In part, it is attributable to the dislocations economic change causes; to the experience of Americans who have, through no fault of their own, been left behind as others profit as they never have before. In part, it is in reaction to government's mistakes and incompetence, and to the selfishness of some public figures who seek to shine the luster of their public reputations at the expense of the public good. But for others, cynicism about our country, government, social and religious institutions seems not a reaction to occasions when they hav e been let down by these institutions, but because the ease which wealth and opportunity have given their lives led them to the mistaken conclusion that America, and the liberties its system of government is intended to protect, just aren't important to the quality of their lives.

I'm a conservative, and I believe it is a very healthy thing for Americans to be skeptical about the purposes and practices of public officials. We shouldn't expect too much from government -- nor should it expect too much from us. Self-reliance -- not foisting our responsibilities off on others -- is the ethic that made America great.

But when healthy skepticism sours into corrosive cynicism our expectations of our government become reduced to the delivery of services. And to some people the expectations of liberty are reduced to the right to choose among competing brands of designer coffee.

What is lost is, in a word, citizenship. For too many Americans, the idea of good citizenship does not extend beyond walking into a voting booth every two or four years and pulling a lever. And too few Americans demand of themselves even that first obligation of self-government.

But citizenship properly understood is what Ronald Reagan was talking about when he said that Americans "are a nation that has a government -- not the other way around." Citizenship is not just the imposition of the mundane duties of democracy. Nor is it the unqualified entitlement to the protections and services of the state.

Citizenship thrives in the communal spaces where government is absent. Anywhere Americans come together to govern their lives and their communities -- in families, churches, synagogues, museums, symphonies, the Little League, the Boy Scouts, the Girl Scouts, the Salvation Army or the VFW -- they are exercising their citizenship.

Citizenship is defined by countless acts of love, kindness and courage that have no witness or heraldry and are especially commendable because they are unrecorded.

Although it exists apart from government, citizenship is the habits and institutions that preserve democracy. It is the ways, small and large, we come together to govern ourselves. Citizenship is the responsible exercise of freedom, and is indispensable to the proper functioning of a democracy.

The English writer G.K. Chesterton once wrote that America is a "nation with the soul of a church." What he meant is that America is not a race or a people but an idea -- a place where the only requirement for membership is a belief in the principles of liberty, opportunity and equality under the law on which this nation was founded.

Citizenship is our acceptance of -- and our protection of -- these principles. It is the duties, the loyalties, the inspirations and the habits of mind that bind us together as Americans.

We are the heirs and caretakers of freedom; a blessing preserved with the blood of heroes down through the ages. One cannot go to Arlington Cemetery and see name upon name, grave upon grave, row upon row, without being deeply moved by the sacrifice made by those young men and women.

And those of us who live in this time, who are the beneficiaries of their sacrifice, dare not forget what they did and why they did it, lest we lose our own love of liberty.

Love of country, my friends, is another way of saying love of your fellow countrymen -- a truth I learned a long time ago in a country very different from ours.

That is the good cause that summons every American to service. If you find faults with our country, make it a better one. If you are disappointed with the mistakes of government, join its ranks and work to correct them. I hope more Americans would consider enlisting in our Armed Forces. I hope more would consider running for public office or working in federal, state and local governments. But there are many public causes where your service can make our country a stronger, better one than we inherited. Wherever there is a hungry child, a great cause exists. Where there is an illiterate adult, a great cause exists. Wherever there are people who are denied the basic rights of Man, a great cause exists. Wherever there is suffering, a great cause exists.

The good citizen and wise person pursues happiness that is greater than comfort, more sublime than pleasure. The cynical and indifferent know not what they miss. For their mistake is an impediment not only to our progress as a civilization but to their happiness as individuals.

As blessed as we are, no nation complacent in its greatness can long sustain it. We, too, must prove, as those who came before us proved, that a people free to act in their own interests, will perceive those interests in an enlightened way, will live as one nation, in a kinship of ideals, and make of our power and wealth a civilization for the ages, a civilization in which all people share in the promise and responsibilities of freedom.

Should we claim our rights and leave to others the duty to the ideals that protect them, whatever we gain for ourselves will be of little lasting value. It will build no monuments to virtue, claim no honored place in the memory of posterity, offer no worthy summons to the world. Success, wealth and celebrity gained and kept for private interest is a small thing. It makes us comfortable, eases the material hardships our children will bear, purchases a fleeting regard for our lives, yet not the self-respect that, in the end, matters most. But sacrifice for a cause greater than yourself, and you invest your life with the eminence of that cause, your self-respect assured.

All lives are a struggle against selfishness. All my life I've stood a little apart from institutions that I had willingly joined. It just felt natural to me. But if my life had shared no common purpose, it would not have amounted to much more than eccentric. There is no honor or happiness in just being strong enough to be left alone. As one of my potential opponents often observes, I've spent fifty years in the service of this country and its ideals. I have made many mistakes, and I have my share of regrets. But I've never lived a day, in good times or bad, that I wasn't grateful for the privilege. That's the benefit of service to a country that is an idea and a cause, a righteous idea and cause. America and her ideals helped spare me the worst consequences of the deficiencies in my character. And I cannot forget it.

When I was a young man, I thought glory was the highest attainment, and all glory was self-glory. My parents had tried to teach me otherwise, as did the Naval Academy. But I didn't understand the lesson until later in life, when I confronted challenges I never expected to face.

In that confrontation, I discovered that I was dependent on others to a greater extent than I had ever realized, but neither they nor the cause we served made any claims on my identity. On the contrary, they gave me a larger sense of myself than I had ever had before. And I am a better man for it. I discovered that nothing in life is more liberating than to fight for a cause that encompasses you but is not defined by your existence alone. And that has made all the difference, my friends, all the differences in the world.

Thank you.

Remarks By John McCain During "Service to America" Tour Event In Alexandria, Virginia

REMARKS BY JOHN MCCAIN DURING "SERVICE TO AMERICA" TOUR EVENT IN ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA

ARLINGTON, VA -- U.S. Senator John McCain will deliver the following remarks as prepared for delivery during the second stop of his "Service to America" tour today at Episcopal High School in Alexandria, Virginia at 10:45 a.m. EST:

Thank you.  I'm happy to be back at Episcopal, my alma mater, which I have many happy memories of, and a few that I'm sure former teachers, school administrators and I would rather forget.  Until I enrolled at Episcopal, my education had been constantly disrupted by the demands of my father's naval career, which required us to move so often that I lost track of the number of schools I attended. My parents had resolved finally to put an end to our haphazard education and enrolled my sister, brother and me in boarding schools.  I arrived here a pretty rambunctious boy, with a little bit of a chip on my shoulder.  I was always the new kid, and was accustomed to proving myself quickly at each new school as someone not to be challenged lightly.  As a young man, I would respond aggressively and sometimes irresponsibly to anyone whom I perceived to have questioned my sense of honor and self-respect.  Those responses often got me in a fair amount of trouble earlier in life.  In all candor, as an adult I've been known to forget occasionally the discretion expected of a person of my years and station when I believe I've been accorded a lack of respect I did not deserve.  Self-improvement should be a work in progress all our lives, and I confess to needing it as much as anyone.  But I believe if my detractors had known me at Episcopal they might marvel at the self-restraint and mellowness I developed as an adult.  Or perhaps they wouldn't quite see it that way.

However much I was captive to the unruly passions of youth, which some of my classmates and friends at Episcopal could attest to as they shared more than a few of those attributes themselves, after a difficult first year adjusting to life here, I came to appreciate this place very much.  Episcopal had borrowed some of its traditions from military academies.  One in particular, bothered me a bit: the designation of first year students as "rats," and the mild hazing that accompanied the designation.  Mild or not, I resented it, more than I should of, and I made my resentment clear in my usual immature ways to upperclassman and school officials, piling up demerits and earning the distinction at the end of the year of "worst rat."  But, for whatever reason, Episcopal did offer me a home here, and if it regretted that decision, it didn't make it known through the usual means.

Memory often accords our high school years the distinction of being among the happiest of our lives.  I remember Episcopal in that light.  The academics were superb and serious, a testament to the many fine teachers here.  Athletics were accorded almost equal weight, and I appreciated the opportunity it gave a mediocre athlete to participate in team sports.  And the honor code here -- I will not lie, I will not cheat, I will not steal -- was much the same as the code my parents had taught and which would govern my behavior at Annapolis and in the Navy.  And if I didn't appreciate it as much as I should have, I learned to do so when my honor was challenged by more serious threats than I ever faced in high school.  And I had good friends here, and those friendships make up the best parts of my remembrance. 

There was one friendship that enriched my life at EHS beyond measure.  Were William B. Ravenel the only person I remembered from Episcopal, I would credit those days among the best in my life.  His influence in my life was more important and more benevolent than that of any person outside my family.  Mr. Ravenel was head of the English Department, and coached the junior varsity football team, on which I played.  He had been a star running back at Davidson College and had a master's degree in English from Duke.  Like most men of his generation, he had known far greater danger than that posed by a tough defensive line.  He had served in Patton's tank corps during the Third Army's aggressive advance across Europe, and had survived hard encounters with Hitler's panzer divisions.  He was a lieutenant colonel in the Army Reserve, the only master at school who still served in the military.

He seemed to his students to be as wise and capable as anyone could expect to be.  He loved English literature, and taught us to love it as well.  He had a way of communicating with his students that was uniquely personal and effective.  He made us appreciate how profound were the emotions that animated the characters in Shakespeare's tragedies.  MacBeth and Hamlet in his care were as compelling to boys as they were to the most learned scholar.  No other teacher had as much of our respect and affection.  He was simply the best man at the school; one of the best men I have ever known.

As luck would have it, I was ordered to work off my demerits in Mr. Ravenel's yard.  I don't know if school authorities were intentionally doing me a favor and knew that Mr. Ravenel would be able to help repair the all-too-evident flaws in my personality.  Neither do I know why he took an interest in me.  But I count the fact that he did among the most fortunate relationships in my life.  I discussed all manner of subjects with him, from sports to the short stories of Somerset Maugham; from his combat experiences to my future.  He was one of the few people to whom I confided that I was bound for Annapolis and a Navy career, and to whom I confessed my reservations about my fate.

In the fall of my senior year, a member of the j.v. football team had broken team rules.  I cannot recall the exact nature of the offense, but it was serious enough to warrant his expulsion from the team.  Mr. Ravenel called a team meeting, and most players argued the accused should be dropped from the roster.  I offered the only argument for a less severe punishment. 

The student in question had broken training.  But unlike the rest of us, he had chosen at the start of the year not to sign a pledge promising to abide faithfully by the training rules.  Had he signed it, I wouldn't have defended him.  Moreover, he had confessed his offense and expressed remorse freely without fear of discovery.  I thought his behavior honorable.  So did Mr. Ravenel.  But he kept his own counsel, preferring his boys to reason the thing out for ourselves. As we were doing so, Mr. Ravenel began to nod his head when some of the others began to take up the defense.  Finally, he closed the matter by voicing his support for leniency.  The team voted to drop the matter.

After the meeting broke up, Mr. Ravenel told me we had done the right thing and thanked me.  He said he had been anxious before the meeting, but had not wanted to be the one who argued for exoneration.  He wanted the decision to be ours.  He told me he was proud of me. 

Every child should be blessed with a teacher like I had, and to learn at institutions with high academic standards and codes of conduct that reinforce the values their parents try to impart to them.  Many students do have that opportunity.  But too many do not.  And government should be concerned with their fate.  I supported the No Child Left Behind Act because it recognizes that we can no longer accept high standards for some students and low standards for others.  With honest reporting of student progress we begin to see what is happening to students who were previously invisible to us.  That is progress on its own, but we can and we must do better.

If a failing school won't change, it shouldn't be beyond the reach of students to change their schools.  Parents should be able to send their children to the school that best suits their needs just as Cindy and I have been able to do, whether it is a public, private or parochial school.  The result will not be the demise of the public school system in America, but competition that will help make public schools accountable and as successful as they should be in a country as great and prosperous as ours.

Teaching is among the most honorable professions any American can join.  After our parents, few people influence our early life as profoundly as teachers.  Theirs is an underpaid profession, dedicated to the service of others, which offers little in the way of the rewards that much of popular culture encourages us to crave -- wealth and celebrity.  But though it might lack much in the way of creature comforts and renown, teaching offers a reward far more valuable: the profound satisfaction that comes from knowing you have made a difference for the better in someone else's life.  Good teachers occupy a place in our memory that accords them a reverence we give few others.  We should be wise enough to understand that those who work diligently and lovingly to educate the children we entrust to their care, deserve the gratitude and support many of us wish we had given those of our own teachers, who once made such a difference in our own lives.

We should reward the best of them with merit pay, and encourage teachers who have lost their focus on the children they teach to find another line of work.  Schools should compete to be innovative, flexible and student-centered institutions, not safe havens for the uninspired and unaccountable.  They should be able to compete for dedicated, effective, character-building teachers, hire them and reward them.  I believe we should encourage military veterans to enter the teaching profession, and I've advocated the Troops-to-Teachers Act.  The sense of heightened responsibility and duty to a cause greater than themselves that veterans were taught in the discipline and code of conduct of the armed forces make many of them excellent candidates to impart those virtues to our children, and help them see the value of learning as a means to self-improvement and much nobler ends.  There is no reason on earth that this great country should not possess the best education system in the world.  We have let fear of uncertainty, and a view that education's primary purpose is to protect jobs for teachers and administrators degrade our sense of the possible in America.  There is no excuse for it.

In the global economy what you learn is what you earn. But today, studies show that half of Hispanics and half of African Americans entering high school do not graduate with their class.  By the 12th grade, U.S. students in math and science score near the bottom of all industrialized nations.  We need to shake up failed school bureaucracies with competition, empower parents with choice, remove barriers to qualified instructors, attract and reward superior teachers, and have a fair, but sure process to weed out incompetents.

Speaking personally, I doubt I will ever meet another person who had the impact on my life that my English teacher at Episcopal High School did.  But I know there are many Americans who should teach and could influence children as beneficially as he did me.  All children should have a teacher like I had, who they remember when they have children and grandchildren as one of the most fortunate relationships of their lives. 

I have never forgotten the confidence Mr. Ravenel's praise and trust in me gave me.  Nor have I forgotten the man who praised me.  Many years later, when I came home from Vietnam, Mr. Ravenel was the only person outside of my family whom I wanted to see urgently.  I felt he was someone to whom I could explain what had happened to me, and who would understand.  That is a high tribute to Mr. Ravenel.  For I have never known a prisoner of war who felt he could fully explain the experience to anyone who had not shared it. 

I regret that I was never able to pay him that tribute.  He had died of a heart attack two years before I came home.  He lived for only fifty-three years, but in that time he had made a life for himself and so many others that was so much greater than the brief moment of life he was allowed.  His death was a great loss to his family, friends, Episcopal, to the students he had taught with such devotion and to everyone who had been blessed with his company, a loss I still find difficult to accept.  But because he helped teach me to be a man, and to believe in the possibility that we are not captive to the worst parts of our nature, I will always believe that there is a Mr. Ravenel somewhere for every child who needs him. 

John McCain 2008 Launches New Web Ad: “American Heroes”

JOHN MCCAIN 2008 LAUNCHES NEW WEB AD: "AMERICAN HEROES"

ARLINGTON, VA -- U.S. Senator John McCain's presidential campaign today released a new web ad. The ad, entitled "American Heroes," tells the story of John McCain's Episcopal High School teacher and football coach, William B. Ravenel, who had a profound impact on his life. The ad details the honor code John McCain has faithfully lived his life by, taught first by his parents and reinforced by Mr. Ravenal in high school.

"American Heroes" is scheduled to appear on national news and information websites.

Script For "American Heroes" (1:40-Web)

ANNCR: Our heroes help tell the story of America.

We know them well.

They've been inventors, athletes, rock-stars and presidents

They inspire us to dream.

Make the right choices.

Live up to their example.

But it's not always the famous who inspire us.

Sometimes the heroes we need are right in front of us.

For John McCain, one of his heroes was in the front of his high school classroom.

William B. Ravenel was that hero.

He was the English teacher and football coach who inspired students to live the honor code.

"I shall not lie

I shall not cheat

I shall not steal

And I shall turn in the student who does."

The teacher who believed in exoneration and redemption.

When one of John McCain's classmates violated the rules and admitted to the infraction.

It was John McCain who declared that forgiveness was the best remedy.

Mr. Ravenel was the teacher who helped John McCain understand honor and redemption.

In his days of learning, John McCain realized that teaching is among the most honorable professions.

The honor code in high school was much the same as the honor code John McCain's life taught him.

For John Sidney McCain, the honor code taught by his parents and reinforced by Mr. Ravenal in high school was just the beginning. ...

Remarks By John McCain In Meridian, Mississippi

REMARKS BY JOHN MCCAIN IN MERIDIAN, MISSISSIPPI

ARLINGTON, VA -- U.S. Senator John McCain will deliver the following remarks as prepared for delivery during the first stop of his "Service to America" tour today in Meridian, Mississippi:
Thank you.  It's good to be back in Meridian. As you might know, I was once a flight instructor here at the air field named for my grandfather during my long past and misspent youth.  And it's always good to be in Mississippi, which you could call my ancestral home.  Generations of McCains were born and raised in Carroll County, on land that had been in our family since 1848.  The last McCain to live on the property, which the family called Teoc, was my grandfather's brother, Joe McCain.  I spent a couple summers here as a young boy, and enjoyed it immensely.  I had never had a permanent address because my father's naval career required us to move frequently.  But here, in the care of my very likeable Uncle Joe, I could imagine, with a little envy, what it must have been like for the McCains who came before me to be so connected to one place; to be part of a community and a landscape as well as a family.   

By all accounts, the McCains of Carroll County were devoted to one another and their traditions; a lively, proud and happy family on the Mississippi Delta.  Yet, many McCains left here as young men to pursue careers in what has long been our family's chosen profession -- the United States Armed Forces.  My great-grandfather was the sheriff and never left.  But his brother, Henry Pinkney McCain, was a major general in the Army, and organized the draft in World War One.  Camp McCain in Grenada, Mississippi is named for him.  My great uncle, William McCain, was known as "Wild Bill" for his "dynamic" personality -- he was reputed to have ridden his horse onto his future father-in-law's porch to ask him for his daughter's hand.  He chased Pancho Villa with General Pershing, was an artillery officer in World War One, and retired a Brigadier General.  Both men are buried at Arlington National Cemetery, as are my father and grandfather.  We trace my family's martial heritage back to the Revolution.  A distant ancestor served on General Washington's staff, and it seems my ancestors fought in most wars in our nation's history.  All were soldiers -- both Henry and Bill McCain were West Pointers -- until my grandfather broke family tradition and entered the Naval Academy in 1902.  He was succeeded there by my father, then me, and then my son.

As I noted, the naval air field here is named for my grandfather, who had an illustrious career in the Navy, and who remained proud of his Mississippi roots until the end of his life.  I have only very early memories of him.  I was just nine when he died.  But he was an unforgettable man, a lively, colorful, though infrequent, presence in our lives.  To spend time in his company was as much fun as a young boy could imagine.  He loved his family, and we were spellbound by him.  He was a slight man and gaunt, but he filled any room with his deep voice and high spirits.  He was devoted to the Navy, but in personal comportment, he was anything but regulation.  He was a rumpled, informal man, who wore a crushed cap with the crown removed that the wife of one of his aviators had given him; kept his shoes off when he worked in an office; tobacco leavings were always scattered about him, as he rolled his own with one hand; possessed a mischievous sense of humor, and was unusually close to sailors and junior officers who served under him, and revered him.  They called him, "Popeye;" his family called him, "Sid;" and his fellow officers, "Slew," for reasons I never learned

After graduating from the Naval Academy, he sailed around the Philippine Islands on a gunboat captured from the Spanish, the executive officer to the great Chester Nimitz.  He returned to the United States on the U.S.S. Connecticut, the flagship of Teddy Roosevelt's Great White Fleet. He served on an armored cruiser in the First World War, escorting wartime convoys across the U-boat infested Atlantic.  In 1935, after the Navy ordered that all aircraft carrier skippers must themselves have earned their wings, he trained as a pilot.  He was 52 years old at the time, and a Navy Captain.  By his own admission, he never learned to fly well.  A subordinate recalled later, "the base prayed for his safe return each time he flew."  But he managed to earn his wings, and left Pensacola to command the naval air station in the Panama Canal Zone, where I was born.

My father, Jack McCain, was an officer at a submarine base there, one of the few occasions in his adult life when he lived in close proximity to the man he admired above all others.  Though they lived far apart for decades, no father and son could have been closer.  My father described his father as "a very great leader and people loved him. ... the blood of life flowed through his veins ... a man of great moral and physical courage."  He had learned everything about leadership from his father, he said.  Both were highly individualistic men with outsize personalities, but were completely dedicated to the United States Navy.  Neither ever wanted any other life, and while both were guilty of more than a few regulation infractions, and shared a few vices, they adhered strictly to the code father had taught son: never lie, steal or cheat.  Both took a great interest in the views and well-being of the men who served under them.  They believed military leaders learned as much from the people they commanded as they taught them.  They were demanding, but fair and compassionate commanders.  "We are responsible for our men," my father once said, "not the other way around.  That's what forges trust and loyalty."  They shirked no duty, braved extraordinary dangers, and were exceptional leaders.  They were the first father and son to become four star admirals.   

My grandfather commanded the fast carrier task force in the Pacific under Admiral Halsey, and devised many of the tactics that were employed by carriers for many years after.  He was instrumental in Japan's defeat, and was given a privileged place on the deck of the U.S.S. Missouri to witness the signing of the unconditional surrender that ended the war.  My father commanded a submarine in the Pacific during the war, survived several harrowing experiences, and had brought a Japanese submarine into Tokyo Harbor at the time of the surrender ceremony.  Both were exhausted at war's end, but happy to have the opportunity for a brief reunion.  They met onboard a submarine tender, and spent a couple of hours together.  My grandfather was worn out and obviously ill.  Years later, my father recalled the last words my grandfather had ever spoken to him.   "Son, there is no greater thing than to die ... for the country and principles that you believe in."  After father and son parted that afternoon, my grandfather began the long trip home to Coronado.  Not long after he arrived, at a homecoming party, he turned to my grandmother, and announced he did not feel well.  He died a moment later of a heart attack. He had fought his war and died in service to the country he believed in. 

My father could not return to the States in time for the funeral.  My mother found him waiting for her to return to California from the funeral in Washington, weeping on the airport tarmac.  In time, my father, the son of a legendary naval leader, would rise to an even greater command than his father had.  During the Vietnam War, he commanded all U.S. forces in the Pacific, at the top of a chain of command that included, near the bottom, his son, a naval aviator on Yankee Station in the Tonkin Gulf, and later a prisoner of war in Hanoi.  My father seldom spoke of my captivity to anyone outside the family, and never in public.  He prayed on his knees every night for my safe return.  He would spend holidays with the troops in Vietnam, near the DMZ.  At the end of his visit, he would walk alone to the base perimeter, and look north toward the city where I was held.  Yet, when duty required it, he gave the order for B-52s to bomb Hanoi, in close proximity to my prison. 

I have lived a blessed life, and the first of my blessings was the family I was born into.  I had not only the example of my distinguished male relations, and their long tradition of military service.  I was fortunate to grow up under the influence of strong, capable, accomplished women; first among them, my mother, the formidable Roberta McCain; her identical twin, Rowena; my strict and imposing paternal grandmother, Catherine; and equally impressive maternal grandmother, Myrtle.  For much of my childhood, my mother was the parent who raised me, my sister and brother.  My father was often at sea, and she bore all the responsibilities of both parents.  She moved us from base to base, often driving us across country on her own; managed our household; paid the bills; saw to our education and religious upbringing; and made of our itinerant childhood, an interesting, exciting time, rich with fascinating experiences.  She was and is a resilient woman, extroverted, uncomplaining, forthright and determined, who greets every challenge as an opportunity to measure one's strength of character and learn about the wider world beyond our immediate environment. 

The family I was born to, and the family I am blessed with now, made me the man I am, and instilled in me a deep and abiding respect for the social institution that wields the greatest influence in the formation of our individual character and the character of our society.  I may have been raised in a time when government did not dare to assume the responsibilities of parents.  But I am a father in a time when parents worry that threats to their children's well-being are proliferating and undermining the values they have worked to impart to them.  That is not to say that government should dictate to parents how to raise their children or assume from parents any part of that most personal and important responsibility.  No government is capable of caring for children as attentively and wisely as the mother and father who love them.  But government must be attentive to the impact of its policies on families so that it does not through inattention or arrogance make it harder for parents to have the resources to succeed in the greatest work of their lives -- raising their children.  And where government has a role to play, in education, in combating the threats to the security and happiness of children from online predators, in helping to make health care affordable and accessible to the least fortunate among us, it must do so urgently, effectively and wisely. 

Tax policy must not rob parents of the means to care for their children and provide them the opportunities their parents provided them.  Government spending must not be squandered on things we do not need and can't afford, and which don't address a single American's concern for their family's security.  Government can't just throw money at public education while reinforcing the failures of many of our schools, but should, through choice and competition, by rewarding good teachers and holding bad teachers accountable, help parents prepare their children for the challenges and opportunities of the global economy.  Government must be attentive to the impact on families of parents who have lost jobs in our changing economy that won't come back.  Our programs for displaced workers are antiquated, repetitive and ineffective.  Many were designed for a time when unemployment was seasonal or a temporary consequence of an economic downturn, not for a time when systemic changes wrought by the growing global economy have, while promising undreamt of opportunities for ourselves and many historically poor societies, have cost too many parents the jobs they had assumed would be theirs for life. 

With the loss of work and the resources it provides families, come just as injurious losses to the emotional health of families.  Work provides more than an income.  It is a source of self-worth, pride and sense of purpose.  Children learn as much from observation as instruction.  The mother or father who has lost hope along with their job can unintentionally impart that hopelessness to their children.  A welfare check can't give a parent a sense of purpose.  And among the most important things children can inherit from their parents is a sense of purpose, and an aspiration to be part of something bigger than themselves. 

My parents taught me that, and I will always be indebted to them.  But like many young people, I didn't understand the lesson very well until later in life when I needed it most.  As a boy, my family legacy, as fascinating as it was to me, often felt like an imposition.  I knew from a very early age that I was destined for Annapolis and a career in the Navy.  In reaction, I often rebelled in small and petty ways to what I perceived as an encroachment on my free will. 

I concede that I remember with affection the unruly passions of youth, and how they governed my immature sense of honor and self-respect.  As I grew older, and the challenges to my self-respect grew more varied and serious, I was surprised to discover that while my sense of honor had matured, its defense mattered even more to me than it did when it was such a vulnerable thing that any empty challenge threatened it.

Like most people, when I reflect on the adventures and joys of youth, I feel a longing for what is lost and cannot be restored.  But though the happy pursuits of the young prove ephemeral, something better can endure, and endure until our last moment of life.  And that is the honor we earn and the love we give when we work and sacrifice with others for a cause greater than our self-interest.  For me that cause has long been our country. I am a lucky, lucky man to have found it, and am forever grateful to those who showed me the way.  What they gave me was much more valuable and lasting than the tribute I once paid to vanity.

I am the son and grandson of admirals.  My grandfather was an aviator; my father a submariner.  They were my first heroes, and their respect for me has been one of the most lasting ambitions of my life.  They gave their lives to their country, and taught me lessons about honor, courage, duty, perseverance and leadership that I didn't fully grasp until later in life, but remembered when I needed them most.  I have been an imperfect servant of my country for many years.  But I am their son, and they showed me how to love my country, and that has made all the difference for me, my friends, all the difference in the world.

John McCain 2008 Releases First Ad Of General Election, Launches "Service To America" Tour

JOHN MCCAIN 2008 RELEASES FIRST AD OF GENERAL ELECTION, LAUNCHES "SERVICE TO AMERICA" TOUR

ARLINGTON, VA -- U.S. Senator John McCain's presidential campaign today released the first television ad of the general election. The ad, entitled "624787," poses important questions to the American people about what values they want in their next president, and highlights John McCain's experience, character and optimistic vision for our future. "624787" will run statewide in the important battleground state of New Mexico.

The campaign further announced that on Monday, John McCain will embark on a "Service to America" tour where he will introduce himself to the nation through a series of speeches and visits that trace the life of a man indebted to his nation, humbled by the opportunity to serve his country, honored by his family's love and deeply moved by his fellow Americans' courage and sacrifice. The tour will highlight the events and figures that shaped his views of right and wrong, forgiveness and grace and the tradition of service and sacrifice ingrained in him from generations of McCains. This "Service to America" tour will fundamentally be about the future of America and the change John McCain will bring as president, informed by the values that have guided his life.

Further details on the "Service to America" tour will be released today.

Script For "624787" (:60-TV)

JOHN MCCAIN: Keep that faith. Keep your courage. Stick together. Stay strong. Do not yield. Stand up. We're Americans. And we'll never surrender.

ANNCR: What must a president believe about us? About America?

That she is worth protecting?

That liberty is priceless?

Our people, honorable?

Our future, prosperous, remarkable and free?

And, what must we believe about that president?

What does he think?

Where has he been?

Has he walked the walk?

INTERVIEWER: What is your rank?

JOHN MCCAIN: Lt. Commander in the Navy.

INTERVIEWER: And your official number?

JOHN MCCAIN: 624787

ANNCR: John McCain

The American president Americans have been waiting for.

JOHN MCCAIN: I'm John McCain and I approve this message.