Carl Albert was a company man in a company town. He knew since grammar school where he wanted to work. He fought to get there, devoted nearly his entire working life to the company, climbed to the highest position possible, and then went home.

Rarely has the House of Representatives seen such a devoted student. When he came to Congress, Carl Albert spent hours sitting in the front row of the chamber listening to the debate, absorbing the esoterica of the House Rules, and probing the innards of the place where he would spend the next thirty years of his life. After a twenty-four-year apprenticeship at the feet of Rayburn and McCormack, Carl Albert knew more about the history, customs, precedents, and culture of the House than any other modern Speaker.

The first thing I realized about Speaker Albert was how intensely he loved the House of Representatives. He almost seemed like a monk in a monastery, so devoted to preserving the traditions of the House, so protective of its members, so determined to see that it worked its will. Stepping into this cloistered environment, the world changed. It was a "Members Only" subculture where those on the inside assumed special status. Yet, it was a much more complex environment than it appeared with many subtle hierarchies within the hierarchies. Speaker Albert understood them all. 

We on Speaker Albert's staff became almost as committed to the "People's House" as he was. We bristled at even the slightest disregard for the company norms. Seeing someone trample on the customs or prerogatives of the House was like a guest coming into our home and flicking ashes on the carpet. The worst sin any of us on his staff could commit was showing disrespect to the House of Representatives or its members. During the Albert speakership, preserving and strengthening the House as an institution was always job one. 

That love and respect for the House routinely transcended partisan politics. I marveled at the close relationship between Carl Albert and Gerald Ford. I saw them meet and talk daily, but don't recall one angry word between them. While the internecine plots and ambitious ascents in the House approached the intensity of those in academia, there was remarkable calm at the center of the leadership. Albert and Ford were creatures of the House who genuinely liked and respected each other and saw their jobs as helping the legislative branch do its work as intelligently and productively as possible. There was a separate time for partisanship. New members of the House probably cannot conceive of a time when rancor and debilitating partisanship did not rule.

As Speaker, Carl Albert never had any doubts about his priorities. It was the House of Representatives first and everything else far behind. If he had phone messages from the three network anchors and a freshman member of the House when he returned from the Floor, Cronkite and his cohorts would have to wait. While this was frustrating to me as a press secretary, I admired the Speaker's single-minded devotion to his constituency--the members who had elevated him to the highest constitutional office in the legislative branch. He never forgot them.

Because Carl Albert saw himself as a Speaker for all in the House, he was constantly in demand as an arbiter for members' disputes. House members might claim that they wanted a strong, partisan leader, but what they wanted most was a Speaker who could be an honest, fair, and impartial broker during their special time of need. Speaker Albert was exceptional in his ability to find common ground among warring factions and to diffuse controversy. His conciliatory leadership represented a loyalty, constancy, and impartiality that has slipped badly in recent years.

Speaker Albert fought relentlessly during his entire career for the political issues in which he believed, such as promoting civil rights legislation, protecting the poor, providing jobs, and opening the political process to all. Yet, it was issues where the House of Representatives was at the core that really stirred his passion - issues that made a major difference in the way the House did its business or provided for its members. He would fight against the executive impoundment of funds or for an overhaul of the committee system as passionately as other members would fight against abortion or gun control. He took process seriously and was as vigilant a protector of the constitutional rights of the Congress as the House has seen.

Nineteen seventy-three was one of those critical years that demanded someone who would protect the institution above all else. It was a year tailor-made for Speaker Albert's strengths as a leader - someone who championed the role of the Congress under the Constitution, and who would put statesmanship above partisanship.

At the beginning of the year, Speaker Albert confronted one of the boldest assaults on legislative prerogatives in the history of the country. President Nixon, just reelected by one of the largest landslides in history, had refused to spend money as Congress had directed and had abolished agencies by executive fiat. 

Speaker Albert was poised for this major constitutional battle. I can remember walking from the Capitol to the Rayburn Building with him one morning when he proclaimed with uncharacteristic bravado ready and eager to lead the fight. I had never seen him so confident or so energized. He used a huge banquet forum honoring the fiftieth anniversary of Time magazine at the National Portrait Gallery to launch a salvo on behalf of the Congress that would set the stage for a powerful executive-legislative confrontation.

We on the staff were much more intimidated by the Nixon White House than was the Speaker. The Haldeman-Erlichman staff and public relations machines were as fine-tuned as any before or since. They could effortlessly drive home a message or coordinate an effective attack. From our vantage point, there were few chinks in their armor except for their manifest arrogance. I have often wondered about the ramifications of that administration's almost dictatorial power had not Watergate intervened.

Speaker Albert continued the public pressure all winter on the executive-legislative conflict, driving his colleagues to pass legislation prohibiting impoundments and hitting away at the intrusive and illegal actions of the executive branch. At the height of the battle, the dynamic suddenly changed when the Watergate Scandal began to unravel on Capitol Hill and the long fall of the Nixon White House began. Suddenly, the country no longer needed a partisan spear carrier, but a statesman to lead it through an extraordinarily difficult time. 

I remember well the dramatic day in September when we interrupted Speaker Albert to tell him that Vice President Spiro Agnew had resigned and that he, a Democrat, was next in line to the presidency as calls for impeachment rang through Capitol Hill. Within minutes, Secret Service protection arrived and the whole office environment changed. Speaker Albert marched off to the House Floor to speak to his colleagues, suddenly realizing that his life had been turned upside down. 

Later that evening, I asked Speaker Albert if he would be willing to do a tape recording of his thoughts on this eventful day. He said on that tape that he realized this was the climactic moment of his life. Nothing he had done before or would do after would make as big a difference for the country as what he did during the next few weeks. He confessed that he would need all the courage, wisdom, and patience that he could muster during this time. Above all, he had to be a leader for all of the people, those who voted for Richard Nixon as well as for those who didn't. He was determined to do what was right, regardless of public opinion, and would let the chips fall where they may. 

In that moment, Carl Albert inoculated himself against the stern challenges that lay ahead. It was only weeks later when the aftermath of the Saturday Night Massacre severely tested Speaker Albert's leadership. After President Nixon fired the Watergate Special Prosecutor, the Democrats' lust for the presidency rose to a fever pitch. Speaker Albert walked into the normally sedate Whip's meeting on Thursday after the incident to find his most liberal colleagues ready to pounce. Congressman John Moss of California and a handful of others unmercifully criticized the Speaker for his lack of leadership, his pandering to the minority, and his inability to seize the moment by accelerating the impeachment proceedings before a Republican vice president could be installed. According to them, Speaker Albert had no choice but to grab the presidency for himself and his party. 

The Speaker responded calmly that the American people had just elected a Republican president by a large margin and it was his duty to preserve that electoral mandate by seeing that a Republican vice president was confirmed as quickly as possible. Furthermore, the impeachment inquiry would proceed at its normal pace, regardless of partisan pressure. 

The die had been cast. Speaker Albert's dedication to nonpartisanship and his abiding devotion to the Rules of the House and the Constitution had preordained the outcome. The impeachment drama would play itself out logically without undue partisanship. The country would move on, healing its wounds.

How important it was to have a leader at that moment who had already achieved his highest career ambition and whose single-minded dedication was to the American people and the public institution which he loved so dearly. Those of us who worked closely with Speaker Albert during this critical time in history believe that he deserves special recognition for his profound contributions to our country.