Las Vegas Sun

March 29, 2024

Where I Stand:

Thank you, Senator. For everything.

Harry Reid Victory

Steve Marcus

Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid, with his wife Landra, gives a victory speech during a Democratic election party at Aria on Tuesday, Nov. 2, 2010.

The year was 1989. It was not a very good year.

That is the year my father, Hank Greenspun, passed away after a long fight against pancreatic cancer. It was an impossible disease to conquer back then, but Hank gave it all he had.

My dad was a giant in my eyes and in the esteem of millions of others who benefited from his singular belief in justice for all, especially for those who could not achieve it for themselves.

The year 2021 — I think we can all agree — while better than 2020, was not a very good year either, mostly because of the unrelenting COVID-19 attack on the world. It got decidedly worse on Dec. 28. That is the day a son of Nevada and our dear friend, Harry Reid, passed away.

He, too, succumbed to pancreatic cancer after a long and brave fight against the odds. He never quit either. Just like he never quit when it came to championing the underdog, those without a voice, those who needed justice.

There is very little I can add to the incredible outpouring from friends and admirers around the world, each with their own stories to tell about this magnificent man whose way-too-humble beginnings in Searchlight shaped a life of service — public service.

When you know someone for more than half a century there are plenty of Harry Reid stories to tell. Over time, they will be told. For now, however, there are a couple that come to mind.

In 1978, the man I have always believed was one of Nevada’ best and most impactful governors, Mike O’Callaghan, was preparing to leave office after two very full terms.

Mike took office at the beginning of what was a turning point in the North-South power struggle as well as the substantial impact of Howard Hughes’ years in Las Vegas and his influence on the waning years of the mob. There was much to do and Mike was the man to do it.

During Mike’s first term he relied heavily on his lieutenant governor, a man Mike mentored at Basic High School and throughout his young career, and a man Mike picked out as the up-and-coming leader for Nevada. His name was Harry Reid.

At the end of Gov. Mike’s term, it was Harry’s turn to return the favor. Every business up and down the Strip, every major banking institution and every entity looking to do any kind of business in the Silver State was trying to hire Mike on his way out of the governor’s mansion. Mike was having none of it. It wasn’t his way.

Harry reached out to my father and suggested Mike would have a home — a safe one, away from the push and pull of corporate compromise and a place where Mike could continue having an enormous impact in Nevada — at the Las Vegas Sun.

Both my dad and I agreed. Happily.

And, contrary to our instincts based on the legal training that both Harry and I had, Hank and Mike did the deal on a handshake. Harry didn’t say a word. He consigned the unsigned contract to a drawer because he knew how to read the room.

I remember in 1998 when Harry was running for re-election to the Senate against John Ensign. It was an extremely close election. Too close. There was a debate between the two candidates scheduled and Harry — given his soft-spokenness and his uncanny ability to be blunt when subtlety was called for — was the acknowledged underdog.

My wife, Myra, and I decided to watch the late evening debate on television from bed. We weren’t 10 minutes into the hourslong affair when Myra had enough. She was so nervous for Harry but couldn’t watch anymore so she pulled the covers over her head and listened to the verbal bloodbath.

When the debate was finally over — maybe two minutes after it was over — the phone rang. It was Harry Reid.

“How did I do?” he asked.

I responded, “You don’t want to ask me, you should ask Myra.”

“Where is she?”

“Where she has been since the beginning of the debate, under the covers, unable to watch!”

So I gave the phone to Myra who was still hiding under the covers. Harry said to her, “I was that bad, huh?”

Myra used just one word. “Yes.”

“That’s what I thought,” he said ever so humbly.

When my father died, Senator Reid paid him a high compliment. He said:

“I lost a good friend. He took up the cause of the underdog. The thing I remember most is the great family he had.”

To Harry Reid the greatest accomplishment he had was his family.

It is now time for me to return the compliment. So I will use Harry’s own words. They speak volumes and they say all that needs to be said.

And like Harry Reid who never said goodbye, neither will I.

Thank you Senator. For everything.

Brian Greenspun is editor, publisher and owner of the Sun.