I’m not 100% sure who came up with the idea. I’d like to think it was me.
Senator Mark Hartfield, announced on December 1, 1995, that he was retiring after five terms in the United States Senate. He would continue to be the powerful Chairman of the Senate Appropriations Committee for the duration of the second session of the 104th Congress, but would not run for re-election in November 1996.
Hatfield had been a naval officer in World War II and an assistant professor of political science before beginning his first run for state office. A proud son of Oregon, he served in their House, Senate, and two terms as Governor before his first successful run for the United States Senate in 1966.
Senator Hatfield’s military service, academic credentials, and teaching career at Willamette University gave him a natural affinity for the National Archives. We had cultivated that interest and support over the years, resulting in an unusual infusion of federal support for a project at the JFK Library in Boston, helped in no small part by the personal solicitation of Senator Edward Kennedy.
Hatfield had been on Nixon’s short list for the Vice Presidency in 1968 and always had an interest in the history of vice presidents throughout American history. He even published a book on the subject in retirement that had been researched using resources from the National Archives.
His departure from the Senate and the Appropriations Committee chairmanship was going to leave a large void in Senate support for the National Archives.
What to do?
It was early in the term of the eighth Archivist of the United States, John Carlin, and we were still in the “trust building” stage of our relationship. I had been appointed director of congressional affairs by John’s predecessor and their transition had been less than amicable. I was suspect from day one. Though I had strong backing from key Hill staff, the Clinton White House, and our National Archives Foundation leadership, Carlin made it clear that I shouldn’t make any long-term real estate investments.
I had a plan and John Carlin would have to be my first stop.
I pitched a gala retirement send-off at the National Archives for Senator and Mrs. Hatfield. Standing in front of the Declaration of Independence and the US Constitution to say goodbye to his Senate colleagues would be the kind of high-profile gratitude that had been greasing the funding gears of Washington for many years. Since you can’t use federal funds for that kind of event, the backing of the Foundation for the National Archives would be required. Carlin said that if the Foundation was in, he would support the idea.
My good friend and talented colleague Dr. Michael Gillette, Director of the Center for Legislative Archives was always my avenue to the Foundation. Mike had been there at the birth of the group and had served as the staff secretariat for the Foundation for the tenure of three Archivists. He and I took the idea to Larry O’Brien III, a longtime loyal friend of the National Archives, a top Washington lobbyist, and President of the Foundation. Larry loved the idea and as Mike reached out to his long-time friend Dot Svendson, Office of the Secretary of the Senate, I made an appointment with Steve Nousen, Senator Hatfield’s Chief of Staff.
If you were going to do anything social with the United States Senate, the late Dorothy “Dot” Turnipseed Svendson was the person to call.
Born in Tuscaloosa, Dot moved to Washington, D C in the mid 1960’s, where she began a long career in government service for both the U.S. House of Representatives and the U.S. Senate. She first worked for Alabama Congressman, Armistead Selden, and later transferred to the U.S. Senate where she worked for Alabama’s Senator, John Sparkman.
In 1975, when Senator Sparkman announced his retirement from the Senate, Dot began working for Louisiana’s Senator Russell Long. She remained with Senator Long as his personal secretary until he retired in January 1987.
Dot loved history and found it everywhere she looked in Russell Long’s office. Senator Long had been in the Senate since 1948 and occupied the seat once held by his martyred father Huey Long, and his mother Rose McConnell Long. There are no politics quite like Louisiana politics and Dot got an 18-year education in the offices of John Sparkman and Russell Long.
Fortunately for a generation of United States Senators and four American presidents, in March 1987, Dot moved to the office of the Secretary of the Senate and began a long career as Senate special events coordinator.
She was instrumental in leading the Secretary’s office in these events, as well as working with the Senate Committee on Rules and Administration to plan and execute Presidential Inaugural luncheons every four years for Presidents Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, Barack Obama, and Donald J. Trump.
In the Secretary’s office from 1987 to 2019, Dot Svendson worked for eight different U.S. Senate Majority leaders: Robert Byrd, George Mitchell, Robert Dole, Trent Lott, Tom Daschle Bill Frist, Harry Reid, and Mitch McConnell. A guiding principle in her life was her view that her role was to serve all Senators on a bipartisan basis. That she accomplished this is evident both from her 32-year tenure and the outpouring of praise she received all living leaders when she passed away in 2019.
Mike Gillette had known Dot since the 1980’s and she was immediately on board to assist and coordinate our event. I had worked with her for our exhibit opening in 1991 to commemorate the beginning of America’s involvement in World War II and had been amazed by her skill and diplomacy in event design and execution. WWII Flyboys and a Special Night.
One of her tricks that night still makes me smile. She had already calculated the number of guests and the number of chairs we had set up in the Archives rotunda. Right before our guests began to wander back from the exhibit gallery for the speaking portion of our program, Dot directed our staff to quickly remove the three back rows of chairs and get them out of sight. Confused, I approached her and asked why, to which she answered in her beautiful Alabama drawl, “why honey, we want this to be standing room only which will look better in the pictures and tickle the egos of the speakers.” A pro.
Fulfilling my mission, I trekked to Room 711 of the Hart Senate Office Building to meet with Steve Nousen. Senator Hatfield’s seniority gave him a sizeable corner suite in Hart with lots of light, elegant furnishings and appointments. My meeting with Steve went well and he was charmed by the thought of his boss, Senator Hatfield, being feted at his beloved National Archives. I told him we had a ways to go, but that I would keep him in the loop. I asked him to look at possible dates with the Hatfields and get back to me.
Mike Gillette and I met with Dot and Larry O’Brien in his downtown office to discuss possible sponsors and a general format for the evening. It was in that meeting that the brilliant idea of Senate co-hosts was born. Senator Robert C. Byrd of West Virginia had preceded Senator Hatfield as Appropriations Committee chair and Senator Ted Stevens of Alaska was next in line for the chairmanship. Why not invite them to co-host the event along with the Archivist and the Foundation? Senator Hatfield’s popularity among his colleagues would ensure good attendance for the evening, but the names Byrd and Stevens on the invitation would make it a command performance.
Gillette reached out to Senator Byrd through his long-time fixer Joe Stewart, and I checked with Steven’s personal staff. Both came back with quick approvals.
The other thing decided in that first meeting was the need for the Foundation to engage an events firm for the project. While the National Archives did have a small events team, inviting the entire United States Senate over for dinner was a gargantuan task. Dot knew the Senate, our team knew the Archives, and an experienced Washington events contractor would know the best florists, caterers, musicians, lighting and sound specialists. Dot recommended that we go with the best, which at that time was the pr and events team of Hayes, Domenici, and Nunn.
Leslie Hayes moved from Lafayette, Louisiana to Washington in 1986 when her husband Jimmy was elected to the 100th Congress. She turned her public relations and business skills into her own firm, recruiting Rose Ann Domenici and Colleen Nunn to join her as partners. Rose Ann Domenici was one of the five sisters of Senator Pete Domenici of New Mexico. She had grown up working in her father’s grocery business, was a tough negotiator, and a savvy, well-connected Washingtonian. The third member of the team, Colleen O’Brien Nunn was the wife of Georgia Senator Sam Nunn, and the entre to the Democratic side of the Senate. Colleen met her future husband at the American Embassy in Paris where she was working for the CIA. They were married in 1965.
Skills, connections, each an observer of the best of Washington dinner parties, they were the team to have on your side.
The Foundation contracted Hayes, Domenici, and Nunn and the meetings began, many, many meetings. The Sprint Corporation was asked by Larry to be our corporate sponsor and underwriter for the evening. We landed on June as a good target month and agreed on a seated dinner in the Rotunda of the National Archives for as many Senators and spouses that we could fit in. Ten tables of ten (with squeeze room for 12 at some) was the schematic for the room.
This event was special from the start given the fact that we had never had a seated dinner in the actual rotunda before. As the home of the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution of the United States of America, and the Bill of Rights, this was a sacred space. So, our first hurdle was getting the guardians of the documents to a place where they could feel comfortable with this idea. It was tantamount to moving the pews out so we could have a church supper in front of the altar. While this seemed very natural to our party planners, it was way outside the box for the cautious, conservative, buttoned down National Archives.
I returned to John Carlin and told him the scenario and the unprecedented nature of the preliminary plan. I don’t remember the order of the steps, but I do remember discussions with Michael Kurtz, the senior official responsible for all archival documents, and Adrienne Thomas, whose organization ran the building. While I don’t remember anyone jumping for joy, I got the OK’s necessary for Carlin’s approval and we were on our way. The fact that the planners kept talking about a “candlelight dinner” I kept to myself.
As the National Archives, it didn’t take us long to decide to feature a display of federal documents that night to honor the career of Senator Mark Hatfield. We had already done the research on his World War II naval service for the opening of our 50th anniversary commemoration in 1991. Each Senator and Congressman who had served in uniform during the war received a set of color facsimiles that night of the public documents showing their service.
Our staff put together a nine document, two case exhibit in the Archivist’s Reception Room that began with Senator Hatfield’s service as a young Ensign aboard the U.S.S. Whiteside (showing his first entry in the deck log on November 1, 1944) through his correspondence with President Ronald Reagan leading to successful environmental and health care legislation in the 1980’s.
The “Salute to Senator Hatfield” was held on Tuesday, June 11, 1996. Guests arrived on the floodlit Pennsylvania Avenue NW side of the National Archives Building, were guided up the marble staircases to the Mezzanine, and led into the Archivist’s Reception Room for cocktails, hors d’oeuvres and an opportunity to view the Hatfield exhibit.
We had an excellent response from the Senate*. In addition to our co-hosts Senators Byrd and Stevens, John Glenn, Tom Daschle, Strom Thurmond, Pete Domenici, Mitch McConnell, Ernest Hollings, and 35 more Senators were in attendance, most with their spouses. Senator Hatfield and Antoinette moved through the assembled guests, greeting them like family.
After an appropriate interval, the guests were led through the bronze gates by Dot Svendson and into the rotunda to find their seats. As they entered, the Marine Corps String Ensemble decked out in their crimson dress uniforms greeted them with Tchaikovsky Serenade. They were served by another two bars at the foot of the Rotunda steps and mingled in the dimly lit magical space.
The Hatfields took their seats, and the other guests made their way to their dinner spots for the evening. I’m not sure when and if we had gotten explicit approval for candlelight at each of the 10 tables, but the atmosphere was unforgettable. Eventually, almost unforgiveable.
The rotunda of the National Archives is as close as we get to a sectarian cathedral. It was designed by John Russell Pope to frame and present the Charters of American Freedom to generations of visitors. He personally commissioned New York portrait artist Barry Faulkner to create two majestic oil-on canvass paintings to look down from lofted perches and define the space. Faulkner painted allegorical scenes depicting the writing and adoption of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States. Each stand 14 feet high and over 37 feet long and were painted in the balcony salon of Grand Central Station in New York, the only space Faulkner could find to create something of this scale.
Downlit by the tiny spots 75 feet above the rotunda floor and up lit by twinkling candlelight, the murals, the documents, the sparking crystal, sterling, and china produced the magic that we had envisioned for the evening. As the guests approached their seats, voices were lowered in much the same way we enter spiritual space.
After a brief welcome by John Carlin, and an invocation by Dr. Lloyd Ogilvie, Chaplain of the United States Senate, the wait staff began serving a beautiful meal planned by the events staff and Antoinette Hatfield. From the English Garden Pea Soup, to the Roast Rack of Lamb**, Risotto Leek Torte, and Fresh Lemon Sorbet and Lace Cookies, everything came from Senator Hatfield's list of favorites.
Conversation is at the heart of any good dining experience. Thomas Jefferson felt that the shape of the table and even the color of the dining room should always be designed with this in mind. Our event planners were ever cognizant of this fact and wanted to increase the likelihood of informed chatter with dinner. Archives senior staff, the Historian of the Senate, a former Archivist of the United States, and Foundation directors conversant with the history and programs of the Archives were strategically distributed among our dining guests to both lead conversation and answer questions from the Senate family.
Hayes Domenici and Nunn also felt that a collection of relevant document facsimiles cleverly incorporated into the center pieces of each table could be a focal point for sharing and discussion. Great idea, right?
You will recall that the clearance to have dinner in the rotunda was one very high bar we had to clear. You will also recall that candlelight was an option we never really discussed. And adding paper to the center of each table did not properly ring the threat assessment bell.
The National Archives Rotunda with the most precious documents of American history on display, open flames at 10 tables, paper documents arrayed close by. What could possibly go wrong?
I was seated at Table 2 with my back to the Table 1 which was occupied by Foundation President Larry O’Brien III and our guests of honor. At some point during dinner, I heard a commotion behind me and turned to see an open flame rising like a burning bush from the center of Table I. Heart stopping would be the understatement of the year. Heroically, Larry rose from his seat and beat down the flames with his linen napkin. Unlike the burning bush, the flame was quickly extinguished followed by a round of nervous laughter by our guests.
I must say, much like Moses, I thought I heard the voice of God in the midst of the conflagration.
“Close Call Johnny Boy, Close Call”
The rest of the evening went off according to plan. Speeches were brilliant (though Senator Byrd called me to Capitol Hill later specifically to complain about the acoustics) and Senator and Mrs. Hatfield were delighted with the results. That year, the House had passed a slight increase in funding for the National Archives and the Senate had countered with a higher number. The day of the Conference Committee, I got a call from a Senate staffer who said, “well, that’s a first. Your final number is higher than the amounts passed by either house. You can thank Mark Hatfield for that.”
I always have.
*One bit of serendipity was that June 11, 1996 turned out to be the day that Majority Leader Bob Dole gave his farewell address to the Senate. Dole was running for President and felt the need to step down from his Senate duties to ensure full attention to the task at hand. So at noon, the entire Senate assembled to hear this historic speech. Given the full presence of the body in Washington, we gained some last minute attendees that made for a wonderful seating chart scramble for the evening.
**The day of the dinner, I embarked on a frantic tour of the food desert that is downtown Washington DC in search of a jar of Crosse & Blackwell Mint Jelly. Senator Hatfield conveyed the request through Steve Nousen. The currant sauce for lamb might be the haut cuisine touch appropriate for the menu, but his life-long preference was C&B Mint Jelly. I ventured as far as a Safeway in Bethesda, MD but came back with my precious cargo in time to shower, shave, and don my gay apparel for the evening.
So interesting! Thanks for sharing, John
Thanks for this, John!
Dear John, What a pleasure to relive the glory days of the Republican Senate of the 1990's. I worked on the Senate floor a number of times with Senator Hatfield as an approptiation aide to our Virginia Senator John Warner. Hatfield was a complete professional and extraordinary gentleman. Those days with Dole as Majority Leader were a high water mark for many of us.
This brilliant tale of the gala tribute to Mark Hatfield in the Archives is a brilliant reminder of the proper way of doing things. The near bonfire just adds to the legend.
Dot Turnipseed was a friend from Sparkman days and we were quite cordial. She was an accomplished artist as well and I'm s…
Wonderful recollection of a time not too long - yet still eons - ago! The seriousness of purpose and camaraderie of good men and women is but a memory. (And of course Sen. Byrd had to share his two cents). Thank you, John
The way DC used to work. Sigh.