This commentary is by Tom McKone of Montpelier, who is a former English teacher, principal and library administrator.
One day in early August, I was on Great Blasket Island, off the rugged west coast of Ireland, and had just finished a hike with extraordinary views of cliffs, other islands and open ocean.
Walking back toward the buildings that once constituted a year-round village and the rocky cove where dinghies move visitors from and to the boats that bring them out to the island, I stood by the side of the trail, waiting for a friend who was buying a wool hat from a knitter.
Before leaving on my hike, I had noticed a group in business attire filming near one of the old houses. Several of them were now coming down the trail, and as they approached, I asked what they were filming.
There was a brief silence, then, nodding to the man beside him, one of them said, “This is our prime minister.”
Sparing me further embarrassment, Prime Minister Micheál Martin gave me a big smile, shook my hand, and asked where I was from.
“Vermont — in the United States.”
“That’s Pat Leahy’s state,” the Irish prime minister said, seeming very pleased to be talking with a Vermonter. He said that Leahy had planned to visit him in July, but had to cancel when he fell and broke his hip. He called him “a great friend to Ireland.” During the conversation, he asked how well I know Leahy.
I told him that like many Vermonters I had met Leahy quite a few times over the years, and that for five years I had regular contact with him. That afternoon on the Irish coast I kept my answer short, but I’ll expand a bit here.
The first time I had a personal conversation with Sen. Leahy — over 25 years ago — was in the then-Grand Union parking lot in downtown Montpelier. He was walking away from the store, carrying a bag of groceries, and I was headed toward it.
As our paths crossed, I thanked him for the work he was doing with landmines, and kept walking. To my surprise, he came to a complete stop and gave me a rundown on what the Senate and other groups were doing to try to ban landmines. He answered my questions and asked me a few.
At the time, I had lived in Vermont for over 15 years, but I was still surprised that a United States senator would spend 10 minutes talking with a stranger in a supermarket parking lot. It wasn’t like that in the larger state where I had grown up, and I knew that it wasn’t true for most of the nation.
Over the years, I had occasional conversations with Leahy at various events; however, when I became executive director of the Kellogg-Hubbard Library — the beloved library he had started going to when he was five — I suddenly gained special status.
Back in the 1990s, the century-old library in downtown Montpelier was bursting at the seams, and after a flood ruined the basement children’s room, the library’s six communities decided it was time to expand the building and create a suitable place for kids.
Sen. Leahy jumped into the effort, helping the library to get federal funds, and — he had started his “movie career” of small parts in “Batman” and “Dark Knight” movies — arranging for the opening of one of the movies to be held in Montpelier as a library fundraiser.
From the first check, Leahy donated his movie residuals (similar to royalties) to the children’s library. Those periodic checks from movie studios gave me at least four opportunities a year to send him a thank-you letter with news from the Kellogg-Hubbard. He always responded. Although his letters may have been written by a staff member, they always included a personalized, handwritten note from him.
One year between Christmas and New Year’s, he, his wife Marcelle, and several family members visited the library, and I escorted them around. This was during the Obama administration and the first stretch when Leahy was Senate pro tem (which he is now again); that position meant he was third in line for the presidency and had a security detail 24/7. It made for a particularly interesting visit.
When I retired from the library, about an hour after the Board of Trustees announced I was leaving, Sen. Leahy called me from the Capitol to thank me for my work at the library and to wish me well. A friend who had served in a Vermont cabinet post and another who worked for the Vermont state colleges told me that they had received similar calls when they left their jobs.
Just good politics, a skeptic might say; however, Leahy takes it much further than he would need to if his motivations were simply political. In our many interactions over the years, I’ve always seen genuine caring for people and great enthusiasm for Vermont.
So, to answer Prime Minister Micheál Martin’s question, I know Sen. Leahy as many Vermonters do, as someone who is warm and accessible and who never stops talking about the many things he loves about our state.
For almost a half-century, he has served in one of the world’s most important and powerful legislative bodies and has worked with U.S. presidents and with political and cultural leaders from around the world. Yet, he still has time for his local library and to talk with a stranger in a supermarket parking lot who wants to know more about efforts to ban landmines.
