There are few names in Colorado politics that carry more political ignominy than that of Republican Mike McKevitt. McKevitt once represented Colorado in Congress…for a single term. He might have stayed longer had he not been so flush with confidence over his ‘preordained’ reelection against a political neo- phyte and, back then, a woman whose place, heaven forbid, was nearly anywhere but in the House of Representatives. Big mistake.
Campaigning against the Vietnam War—a winning strategy in 1972—the neophyte, Pat Schroder, soundly defeated McKevitt. She ran a smart, well-organized, grassroots campaign winning comfortably. Schroeder, who went on to win reelection a dozen times established herself as a national figure, perhaps even the preeminent feminist’s name in Congress. Little is remembered about her first opponent.
Schroeder died on Monday. She had recently suffered a stroke. At the time, she was living in Florida. But it is Denver and Colorado where her memory will be long emblazoned.
Schroeder will be remembered as a twelve-term Congresswoman, to be sure. But also as a woman whose quips were as quick as they were crisp; as a woman who stood her ground in a puddle of testosterone; as someone whose legacy will be as deep and as memorable as any public servant our state has ever seen.
“She’s a tremendous loss,” said former Denver Mayor Wellington Webb, who also won public office in 1972 when he was elected to the Colorado Legislature. Webb said Schroeder “gave so much to Colorado…not only to the women’s movement but to Civil Rights.” Schroeder, said Denver’s former chief executive, “left an impeccable legacy behind.”
Schroeder took office as a 31-year-old mother of two young children. At the time, Congresswoman, a word common in today’s world, was back then a word that stumbled off the tongue. But Schroeder helped make it not only easily pronounceable but also an ingrained part of the lexicon.
“Pat Schroeder was a pioneer for women’s rights,” said Democratic Congresswoman Diana DeGette, who succeeded Schroeder and who has held the same seat since 1997. Calling her predecessor “a trailblazer, a role model, a mentor and a friend,” DeGette also praised Schroeder as an inspiration. “Pat’s brilliance, passion and wit will never be duplicated, but will always be remembered.”
Schroeder’s independence caused her to stand out, making her a target for the right and darling of the left. She was unafraid to ‘nudge the bear,’ taking on establishment individuals and institutions. Schroeder was once asked ‘how she could be a mother of two small children and a member of Congress at the same time,’ she replied in a remarkably simple and sublime way. “I have a brain and a uterus, and I use both.”
She also tangled with then Speaker of the House Newt Gingrich who, at the time, was hosting a college lecture series. Schroeder filed an ethics complaint that ultimately resulted in a reprimand against Gingrich.
In 1987, Colorado had two names in the presidential sweepstakes. One was a suave, debonaire man of the West, Senator Gary Hart. The other, Schroeder. Hart seemed on a fast track to win the Democratic nomination for President. But, combining over brimming overconfidence with inordinate clumsiness and absurdly poor judgment, Hart destroyed his hopes with an ill-conceived tryst, appearing in photographs with a woman who was not his wife. Ironically, one of the photos was aboard a boat named ‘Monkey Business.’
Schroder, while certainly as qualified to seek the high office, was underfunded. She had to withdraw as she was testing the waters. But her announcement became as newsworthy for its pronouncement. The image that was captured in newspapers and television that day in Denver was memorable. As she was announcing her decision and saw the disappointment on faces in the crowd, Schroder remembered, “My heart sank, and I began to cry.” The image of that single emotional moment made front pages everywhere. “I went on with my speech, but it was my tears, not my words that got the headlines.”
Schroeder left in imprint in Congress that resounds today. She worked to pass legislation allowing women to fly in combat. Schroder, herself, was a trained pilot. Schroder’s success in passage of the legislation led Lt. Col. Oliver North to brand her as one of the nation’s 25 most dangerous politicians.
Another one of her legacy pieces of legislation was the 1978 Pregnancy Discrimination Act. It prevents employers from firing women if they become pregnant. She also has her name on the Family Medical Leave Act.
Schroeder was also the first woman to sit on the powerful House Armed Services Committee, though its chairman, because he thought both women and Blacks were undeserving of the position, forced her to share a seat with Congressman Ron Dellums, an African American. Again, Schroeder cleverly described the situation as one of sitting “cheek to cheek.”
Schroeder’s life after Congress included taking a teaching position at Princeton and, later, serving as CEO of the Association of American Publishers. She also worked local politics in her retirement state of Florida.
Schroeder’s ascendency from Colorado wife and mom to national prominence was as much inspiration as aspiration. “She was a role model for women who cared about their communities,” said Rosemary Rodriguez, former President of the Denver City Council. “She changed our perspective on the world and what was possible. She really thought she was there to help.” And for a generation in Congress, she did, said Rodriguez, “with courage and humor.”
Schroder’s life in Congress was finely detailed in her autobiography, “24 Years of House Work and the Place is Still a Mess.”
But just having her name in the conversation, albeit briefly, her run burnished her name in way it, perhaps, had not before been known.
The role of Congresswoman and mother were essentially missing from any congressional biography. But her natural political instincts and innate intelligence, quickly established her as a serious politician but also one unafraid to be herself.
