Header Ads

In Memoriam 2016: Politics - Nashville Scene



For more of our In Memoriam 2016 coverage, click here.

Betty Nixon during her run for mayor in 1987.Betty Nixon during her run for mayor in 1987.Nashville Public Library, Special Collections

Betty Nixon

1936-2016

Political trailblazer, inspiration

By Megan Barry

This year was Betty Nixon’s 80th — a year that started off with celebration and, for me, ended in sadness. We roasted Betty on her birthday, and she declared this year her “birthday year.” She told me she was determined to celebrate every day, and she did.

She was a trailblazer — an inspiration to so many women and men in Nashville. Whether she was serving on the Metro Council, running for mayor or working with Vanderbilt University to support the community, she was always working on behalf of the people.

Betty helped launch the neighborhoods movement in Nashville. She didn’t just talk, she acted. Months before she died, while she was suffering from cancer, Betty was first in line at a council public hearing, where she spoke out about a project she worried would threaten the community character she helped nurture.

Betty was a fighter, a fierce advocate for equity and fairness. She headed up my campaign office in North Nashville, and she told me it was the most fun she’d had in a while — because Betty loved politics and loved helping people.

Another friend, Ronnie Steine, gave me a book by Eleanor Roosevelt (the cover quaintly listed her as “Mrs. Franklin Delano Roosevelt”) when I was elected. I shared a passage from the book, called “It’s Up to the Women,” at Betty’s funeral because it so effectively captured Betty’s way: “A man or woman in public life must learn to listen to everybody’s opinions. They must never be prejudiced or dogmatic, they must keep an open mind, but when they have listened and know what they think themselves, they must have the courage to stand by that.” 

Betty taught me to take conflict and turn it into conversation, but not to stop there. Yes, it’s important to have conversations — but those conversations have to turn into action.

Betty gave me many gifts, but her final one came to me after she had passed. She’d penned a note to me a few days before she died. I now keep it on my desk, and I keep her words in my heart. “Dear Mayor Barry and team — how lovely to have a long, interesting visit with you. You are the brightest of the shining stars in the political sky. Nashville is in strong hands. Love, Betty.”

Nashville was a brighter, stronger place because of Betty. She was an unforgettable force in my life, and she helped me be a better public servant. Whether you personally knew her, knew of her, or simply benefited from her advocacy, perhaps without even realizing  — we would all do well to remember the life and legacy of Betty Nixon.  

Megan Barry is the mayor of Nashville

For a slideshow from Nixon's career, click here.

Surrounded by family members, Jane Eskind concedes the Senate race on election night, November 7, 1978.Surrounded by family members, Jane Eskind concedes the Senate race on election night, November 7, 1978.Nashville Public Library, Special Collections

Jane Eskind

1933-2016

Political groundbreaker, mentor

By Kim McMillan

Jane Eskind’s legacy in Tennessee with respect to women, children, families, Democratic politics, advocating against injustice and standing up to prejudice is without equal. However, it was her life’s work of opening doors for women to serve in public office and to just make a difference that I believe was her true calling. Jane’s daughter, Ellen Lehman, has said that her mom would get “goosebumps” knowing that she had helped women achieve unimaginable accomplishments. 

Jane did this both by setting the example: first woman in Tennessee to win statewide elected office; first woman in Tennessee to chair a state political party; and tireless advocate for other women to get them elected or at least to run for office. One of the many beneficiaries of Jane’s true passion was a young 5-foot-3 adopted kid from Alabama with no political experience. That petite novice with a law degree, two children under the age of 3 and no family money or family name? That was me, and I credit Jane Eskind and her legacy for whatever success I have realized over the course of my life.

It was 1994, my first run at political office for a seat in the Tennessee General Assembly. Jane told me not to worry about the fact that I was a “girl” trying to break into the “good ol’ boys club.” She had already been there, done that. Her stories of the things she had experienced on the campaign trail were what kept me going. People asking her about her hairstylist and what beauty shop she frequented or what arrangements she had made for her young children if she was successful in her various runs for the U.S. Senate, Public Service Commission, Congress or governor. Jane told me give them her response: “I’ll tell you about my beauty shop and my children’s babysitters when you ask my male opponents about what barber shop they go to or what their children are doing while they are at work!” 

Another story revolved around her opponent in the hard-fought Democratic primary for governor. Ned McWherter, former speaker of the house and governor, was fond of saying, “Don’t get your gown over your head!” when addressing recalcitrant members of the Legislature. Jane famously said the members should put their “big boy pants on,” since she was pretty sure that the male-dominated legislature didn’t wear gowns. That was Jane Eskind at her best.

All of Jane’s advice, encouragement, prodding, financial assistance and true friendship must have sunken in, because I won that race in 1994 and 12 more elections after that, including my current position as mayor of Clarksville. The thing I most appreciate about Jane, and what I believe the entire state of Tennessee will miss most, is her unique ability to run a competitive race against a friend, mentor, equal or rival and remain friends and maintain her integrity, win or lose. That is her true gift and is certainly needed in today’s political environment. 

Kim McMillan is the mayor of Clarksville.

For a slideshow of Eskind's life, click here.

John Steinhauer on the floor of the state legislature in 1979.John Steinhauer on the floor of the state legislature in 1979.Nashville Public Library, Special Collections

John Steinhauer

1925-2016

Legislator

By Steven Hale

John Steinhauer was a living link to another time in more ways than one, a man whose ailments and political achievements are like foreign artifacts today.

In the 1930s, at the age of 7, he contracted polio after swimming in a Nashville pool.

“I had been swimming at the Shelby swimming pool on Thursday, and on Saturday my sister and I were going to go to town and go to a movie,” Steinhauer told WSMV. “We walked down to the streetcar at 14th and Woodland and I was limping, but I had a new pair of shoes and I thought it was the shoes.

“And on Sunday … there was going to be a picnic at my uncle’s place on the Stones River. When we got ready to leave, I got up and I walked out to the car, laid down on the back seat of the car, a 25-to-30-minute drive, and when we got there I couldn’t walk.”

It was a diagnosis he shared with President Franklin Delano Roosevelt and one that would lead to them eating Thanksgiving dinner together in 1933.

Steinhauer would go on to be a Tennessee state representative and Hendersonville city commissioner. In 1978, when that since-extinct thing called a Democratic majority still reigned, Steinhauer sponsored legislation giving public school teachers the right to collective bargaining — a law that was repealed in 2011 with the backing of then-Rep. Debra Maggart, the Republican holding Steinhauer’s old House seat.

Many more of Steinhauer’s contributions can’t be undone, though. He was instrumental in bringing a hospital to the Hendersonville area and influential in the construction of Volunteer State Community College in Gallatin. At the statehouse, he also sponsored bills requiring tests on newborns to identify signs of mental retardation and hypothyroidism — tests still being used today.

Steinhauer died in June, at the age of 90.




Uncategorized
#Uncategorized

No comments:

Powered by Blogger.