40.
Robert Byrd, D-WV
March 8, 1981 - January 20, 1989
When Scoop Jackson died and Ella Grasso found herself the unanimous choice of the Democratic National Committee to succeed him on the ticket, her first decision was who she would choose as a running mate. She did not hesitate. She needed her own Master of the Senate, and like Lyndon Johnson before him – also chosen to help a less experienced President navigate the ways of Washington – Robert Byrd, too, assumed the presidency. The possibility that he might was, of course, the only reason he gave up the power that came with being a leading Democrat in a Democratic-controlled United States Senate.
He proved a powerful voice on the campaign trail and played an important role in helping Grasso reach out to the very voters who were traditional Democrats but worried about voting for a woman (and, for a fewer number of them, an ethnic white).
Born as Cornelius Sale, Jr. in North Carolina, Byrd’s life was thrown upside down when his mother died during the 1918 flu pandemic. He went to live with his aunt (his father’s sister), Vlurma Byrd, and his name was changed to Robert Byrd. He became a product of his environment – the coal mines of West Virginia. The story of his mother resonated as an attack line against the Bush administration’s handling of H1N1.
He was always a musician at heart, learning the violin, and playing it at several well-attended concerts in the East Room during Grasso’s presidency (and his own).
He got to the House of Representatives in 1953 and the Senate in 1959. When Grasso tapped him to be her running mate, he was the Senate Majority Whip, on track to become the Chairman of the Caucus. It was not to be. The bullet that struck Scoop Jackson altered the entire trajectory of the nation – and that included Byrd’s own life and career. He was thrust onto a national ticket, and on January 20, 1977, Byrd became the nation’s 42nd Vice President. He did not get there without controversy.
Though the Democratic establishment was thrilled with Grasso’s selection, stories about Byrd’s prior involvement with the Ku Klux Klan soon imperiled the campaign. For a moment, it looked as though Bush might be able to get the upper hand, but Grasso, tough-knuckled as she was, had no interest in losing the election over a young man’s mistakes. When the roar of the press had drowned out the rest of the conversation on the trail, Grasso arrived for a meeting in Washington with the Congressional Black Caucus. With them standing behind her, she emerged preaching the Catholic values of forgiveness. Anyone who thought that this would be the end of the issue did not understand the Roman Catholic faith. Robert Byrd still had to pay his penance.
And he did. The West Virginia Senator spent a week at various events connected to the Black community – a tour of Harlem with Charlie Rangel, a tour of Chicago with Rev. Jesse Jackson, a roundtable with Black unionists in Detroit, a roundtable on voting rights in Atlanta with Andrew Young and John Lewis, and breakfast with Corretta Scott King – and at the end of it all, he gave, from the Senate Caucus Room, a speech asking the American people, and African-Americans specifically, for their forgiveness.
Whether or not all was forgiven was for African-American voters to decide, but in the end, the press moved on. Byrd’s racism was old news. Bush’s sexism was all the rage in the final stretch of the campaign. The Grasso/Byrd ticket still won the overwhelming majority of the Black vote, but Bush pulled a higher number than many previous Republican nominees.
Byrd took on a behind the scenes role throughout most of Grasso’s presidency, but that is not to say he wasn’t a force within the administration. He certainly was. Grasso’s tough love approach to Democrats in Congress was helped by Byrd’s connections. It was his policy staff that recommended the compromise that saved GrassoCare – a value-added tax to assuage fiscal moderates. The recommendation came after Byrd met with some 20 individual members of Congress – Democrats, Republicans, Congressmen and women, and Senators.
He and Grasso also saw eye-to-eye on Panama. Byrd had waffled on the issue throughout the Bush presidency, though he leaned against giving the Canal back. In fact, Grasso initially offered that Byrd should take the lead on the negotiations, but he deferred to Secretary of State Cyrus Vance.
They were an unlikely pair, but both he and Grasso had found a camaraderie, often seeing issues in the same way and complimenting each other’s strengths, alternating their roles as good cop and bad cop with Congressional Democrats and earning each other’s confidence. On March 7, 1981, when Grasso fell comatose, Robert Byrd wept upon hearing the news. In fact, Byrd was so distraught that he refused to accept the office of the Presidency even via the 25th Amendment. His reaction influenced the Grasso family’s decision to let their wife and mother go peacefully, despite the fact they were devout Catholics.
The 40th President spoke lovingly of “Mother Ella” – an originally-derisive term Republicans employed that Byrd stole for his own purposes – at her funeral at St. Matthew’s Cathedral. Like Kennedy, the other Roman Catholic before her, Grasso was laid to rest at Arlington National Cemetery. It was a fitting tribute to the first woman Commander-in-Chief.
When the nation returned Ella Grasso to office, they helped replenish her strong Democratic majorities. Now, Robert Byrd had to decide what to do with them. He was clear-eyed – a wholesale change in the way America approached public education.
Byrd pushed through a comprehensive education reform package that would later become known simply as the “Byrd Bill” or “Byrd’s Law.” The program provided hundreds of millions of dollars to repair run-down schools in cities and rural America alike. It funded new textbooks and classroom supplies, but it went beyond more money. It created the National Education Standards Administration – a commission that would prove thorny in later years but at first was meant as a study to help establish national standards, especially on American history, a passion of Byrd’s.
States would have to set standards in addition to federal ones and use standardized tests to evaluate students’ performance. The performance of students was used to judge the performance of a school and those schools that were falling below a certain threshold would be referred to the Department of Education. These caseworkers would be assigned failing schools, travel there, meet with teachers and administrators, and develop plans to help improve the school’s performance. Failing schools had access to more federal dollars to help them catch-up.
Some worried that this would actually be a disincentive – worse performance meant more dollars. But Byrd had a plan for that, too, and it related to his strong belief in higher education. High schools that were in the top performing category according to the standards would receive innovation grants to experiment with things like apprenticeship programs, and their students would be eligible for scholarship funds for public universities. (These scholarships came to be known as “Byrdies”) Elementary and middle schools in top performing categories also received bonus funding that could be used for school improvements, teacher bonuses, special programming for students, etc.
If the program sounded complicated, it was. If it sounded expensive, it was. But Byrd, a child of Appalachia, had always believed it could be possible. He found powerful allies in the Senate, particularly Massachusetts Senator Ted Kennedy, who helped him shepherd it through, but it was not an easy process. Conservatives argued against a federal takeover of public education. Georgia Congressman Newt Gingrich took to the House floor, exploiting the new C-SPAN cameras, to argue, “First, they came for our healthcare, and you all said nothing because you did not think it would affect you. Then, they came for our education, and you all said nothing because you were not in school. Next, they will come for our economy, and who will be there to turn them back and say no we are a democracy, we are a capitalist country, and we do not want your burgeoning and wasteful federal government?!”
Gingrich’s sentiment, if overstated, was not at all unique, especially in the South, where Byrd would need ancestral Democrats to come on board with his plan. He preached the program as particularly beneficial to the South, where rural poverty often meant kids were trapped in failing schools. Many of the Senators remained unmoved.
Republicans were also pushing for a school voucher program that would allow children in failing schools to receive money to get a private education. Byrd was adamantly opposed to the idea, and it proved one of the most memorable battlegrounds of his presidency.
During a Senate debate on the amendment, the Southern Democrats left the Capitol Building. They did not want to oppose the vouchers because many in their states were demanding them (motivated in part from a desire to keep their children in predominantly white schools) but they knew better than to cross their president on an issue on which he’d drawn a line in the sand.
Jeffrey Daniels, a holdover from the Grasso administration, was serving on Byrd’s policy team and noticed that Senator John Stennis was waiting for a train at Union Station. Daniels instructed a friend he was meeting for lunch to go phone the White House right away and explain what was happening. He went over to Stennis and struck up a conversation to keep the Senator occupied. Eventually, Stennis missed his train and word of the Southern Democrats’ plans to skip town for the vouchers vote got back to the White House.
Byrd phoned Bob Mollohan, the West Virginia Democrat who succeeded him in the Senate, and told him to head to the floor and “move a call of the Senate” – if a majority of those present supported it, the Sergeant-at-Arms would be empowered to arrest members not in attendance. Mollohan grabbed some Democratic colleagues, interrupted the debate, called the Senate, and the conservative Southern Democrats were dragged back to the Capitol kicking and screaming to vote down the vouchers amendment and eventually pass the Byrd Bill intact.
The Byrd Bill was a monumental legislative achievement, fresh off the heels of Grasso’s healthcare victory, and it not only redefined the relationship between the federal government and public education, it provided the country with decades of fodder over cultural issues. These fights would consume much of Byrd’s second term.
The time for reelection had come, and Byrd was eager to hit the campaign trail and tout his administration’s accomplishments. The economy was far from great but had largely recovered from the stagflation days, and Byrd believed that the election was his for the taking. He had not expected that the Republicans would bring a gun to the knife fight.
The Republican front runner was William Westmoreland, the controversial Vietnam general turned Governor of South Carolina. The moderate Republicans, still enough of a force within the Party, felt Westmoreland was too far out of the mainstream. The Ford Wing of the Party settled on a different candidate, the bombastic Connecticut Senator Lowell Weicker. There was an irony there, for those willing to find it, given that many Ford delegates had backed Weicker at the 1980 Convention because Ford had tried to unite the Party by picking Westmoreland as his running mate. Now, the two men would square off for the nomination. By all accounts, it should have been Westmoreland’s for the taking. He was more in line with the Party’s activists, his military record was respected among Republican voters, and he had been a tax-cutting conservative Southern governor who could put the region in play for the Republicans at a time when many feared it would drift back to the Democrats because of Byrd’s role at the head of the ticket.
Westmoreland had two major problems. First, he was a stiff campaigner unused to the retail politicking required to win states like Iowa and New Hampshire. Second, polling consistently showed him trailing Bob Byrd in the national popular vote. Westmoreland’s strategists argued he was actually the best candidate to prevail in the Electoral College, but that argument did not get far with the average Republican voter who was anxious to beat back the Democrats after two terms of progressive social changes. Still, Weicker was a pill too hard to swallow for many of them, and that prompted Texas Governor Bill Clements to get into the mix.
Clements and Westmoreland dragged each other down, going so hard at each other, and fighting over the same voters, that Weicker was able to sneak up the middle. Neither man’s ego would let him be the one to step aside. Clements took Iowa, Weicker won New Hampshire, and South Carolina went to Westmoreland – no surprise there given it was his home state (and both Weicker and Clements used that argument to diminish its importance). Weicker won big in New England, took New York and Illinois, and even won Pennsylvania. After Pennsylvania, it was clear that Weicker would be the nominee and Clements agreed to come on as Weicker’s running mate, creating a unity ticket that brought the Party together.
The Byrd campaign had not anticipated a Weicker nomination. Now, the president found himself trailing nationally. Weicker was an imposing figure who promised change and a return to moderation. He was bombastic and did not shrink from attacking the president, whom he derided as “Bobby.” So, in order to win, Bob Byrd played dirty.
A whole slew of Byrd-affiliated Political Action Committees began mounting legal challenges to Lowell Weicker’s candidacy based on the fact that he was born in Paris, France. The Constitution said only a natural born citizen could become president, but the term had never truly been defined. Now, these Byrd-aligned groups were trying to get the Republican nominee thrown off the ballot. Weicker brushed off the attacks, putting up only a nominal defense in the Courts and refusing to fight Byrd on the issue on the campaign trail. For his part, the strategy was working. Weicker prevailed in challenges in a slew of states – often getting the cases dismissed because of a lack of standing.
And so on the candidates went, traveling the nation, making speeches, and participating in a single nationally-televised debate in which neither candidate especially prevailed.
Some have referred to the Election of 1984 as a “campaign about nothing.” Neither candidate represented an ideological extreme. The economy was good, if not great, and voters seemed to be making their mind up largely based on if they wanted a cooling off period in the wake of Byrd and Grasso’s reforms. They decided they did. Weicker won the election with 289 electoral votes and a slim majority of the popular vote. But then, he didn’t.
A week after the election, the Illinois Supreme Court, packed with Democratic Party bosses, ruled that the Illinois Secretary of State had erred in accepting Lowell Weicker’s name for the Illinois ballot and determined Weicker was ineligible to become the President of the United States because he was not a natural born citizen. All votes for him, the Republican nominee, were deemed invalid and Illinois was prevented from sending electors to vote for him. With those 24 electoral votes, Byrd was named the winner of the election with 273 electoral votes.
The Republicans were furious and immediately appealed to the U.S. Supreme Court in what became known as Edgar v. Americans for an Honest Government. In a 5-4 decision, written by William Rehnquist, the Court did not answer the question of whether or not Weicker was a natural-born citizen (or even what the term meant) and instead determined that the manner by which electors were chosen was fully within the purview of the states, and if the state Supreme Court ruled that Illinois had erred in verifying Weicker’s eligibility, that was fundamentally a state matter.
Weicker was enraged. His team prepared to sue the State of Illinois, arguing that he’d been improperly ruled ineligible to receive presidential electors. They also considered a suit on behalf of various Weicker voters who would argue they’d been deprived of their right to vote for President because the Secretary of State had not determined Weicker’s eligibility with enough time for the slate of Republican electors to support another candidate. The problem, however, was the timing.
The Supreme Court’s opinion came out on December 3, 1984. The deadline for certification was December 4th. Secretary of State Jim Edgar believed he was obligated to certify the results as ordered by the Illinois Supreme Court. In doing so, he ensured the electors would go for Byrd.
Some Republicans believed Weicker could still pursue a challenge, but he decided against it, believing that the ensuing legal battle might consume the nation for years and leave the country vulnerable to foreign attack. In a nationally televised address given from inside the Connecticut State Capitol in Hartford, Weicker announced that he was conceding the election to Byrd, though he refused to acknowledge that proceedings had been fair and called on Congress to remedy the issue by amending the Constitution.
The President called for a time for national healing and supported a Constitutional amendment that defined a natural-born citizen as one born in the United States, on American land (such as an American military base), or born to two American citizens in a foreign country. The Amendment was quickly ratified, becoming the 28th Amendment. It was also the fourth Amendment written by Birch Bayh (after the 25th, 26th, 27th (ERA), and 28th). Bayh’s other Amendment, to eliminate the Electoral College, was also reintroduced but failed to pass Congress even in the wake of the Byrd/Weicker election. Another amendment written by Weicker that would prevent the states from imposing “unique or extraneous qualifications beyond those listed in the Constitution” for federal office failed when it came up for a vote in the U.S. Senate.
Many Americans who voted for Weicker felt cheated and branded Byrd an ‘illegitimate’ president. On January 19, 1985, the day before Byrd’s official inauguration, thousands descended upon DC for a peaceful protest. Some called for Byrd’s resignation. Others called for his impeachment. Byrd was beginning to regret trying so hard to keep the presidency. It was a feeling he wouldn’t be able to shake for the rest of his time in the White House.
Foreign affairs, which Byrd had been able to navigate easily in his first term, embroiled him in his second. The most pressing issue was the Middle East. America’s support of Iraq during its invasion of Iran was proving a costly endeavor. The war was still dragging on and reports that Iraq had used chemical weapons against the Iranians attracted international attention. Byrd hauled his national security team to Camp David for a presidential retreat focused solely on the Middle East problem. Most of the briefings were led by Paul Wolfowitz, now the National Security Advisor, who argued that the United States did not find the intelligence suggesting Iraq used chemical weapons to be credible.
Richard Perle, the Acting Secretary of Defense (Byrd’s nominee to replace Harold Brown, Edward Hidalgo, had yet to be confirmed) agreed with Wolfowitz’s assessment and went further. He believed that the U.S. government had to push back against the assertions as the idea that we were tied so closely with the Saddam regime was negatively impacting our standing around the world. Warren Christopher, the newly-minted Secretary of State, did not disagree.
Byrd decided that Christopher should present America’s refutation of the evidence at an upcoming U.N. Security Council meeting, defending Hussein and asserting that Iraq was not using chemical weapons as part of its invasion of Iran. Christopher did as he was instructed, working with Wolfowitz and the CIA on the intelligence and the presentation, and made his case in New York. His presentation stopped the U.N. from condemning Iraq’s conduct in the war and imposing international sanctions that could have crippled Iraq’s economy.
Not everyone was convinced, least of all Georgia Senator Jimmy Carter, who left the Grasso Administration to run for Senate after Herman Talmadge was forced into retirement because of a financial scandal. Carter believed that America’s foreign policy should place a higher premium on human rights, and he began to call for congressional investigations into Iraq’s conduct during the war. He demanded oversight over American intelligence, and he was not shy about suggesting that he thought Warren Christopher was lying to the United Nations.
For most of 1985 and 1986, Carter’s vocal opposition went nowhere, but the Republican Party took control of Congress in 1986, thanks largely to the continuing outrage of the 1984 election and the bubbling culture wars.
Byrd’s National Education Standards Administration released a comprehensive report in 1985 that set off a flurry of debate over American history. It was not what Byrd had wanted or intended. It was, nonetheless, a fight he’d brought. Lynne Cheney, the Chairwoman of the National Endowment for the Humanities, launched into a national campaign to question the standards, arguing that the recommendations amounted to a “disservice” for America’s children and blasted them for including “too much Harriet Tubman” and “not enough Grant and Lee.”
Byrd was caught in the middle. Culturally, he was more conservative and he believed in a more nationalistic or patriotic rendering of American history. Politically, he had been the one pushing for the national standards. Going back on it now would paint him as weak and indecisive.
Byrd hosted Cheney to the White House for a meeting about the standards. Cheney left saying the conversation had been “productive.” A few days later, Byrd delivered an Oval Office address echoing most of Cheney’s sentiment, calling for Congress to ignore the Administration’s recommendations and instead allow the standards to be debated “among the people’s representatives, not unelected bureaucrats.”
College-educated whites and Black voters condemned Byrd’s flip-flop on the standards. Jesse Jackson was particularly outraged and promised to run for President in 1988. When asked what Party he’d be running under, Jackson said he “wasn’t sure,” raising doubts that African-American voters were willing to stay in the Democratic Party after years of being taken for granted. Northeast educated liberals were perhaps even more dismayed by Byrd’s aboutface. Byrd had only managed to carry Massachusetts in the 1984 election. Now, Democrats in the region found themselves threatened by socially liberal and fiscally moderate Republicans who pointed to the Byrd Bill as evidence that the big government experiment had gone too far while also arguing that the absurd entry into the culture wars was problematic and unamerican.
Moderate Democrats lost primaries to liberal Democrats angered by Byrd’s choices. Those liberal Democrats found themselves losing to moderate Republicans who decried deficit spending and the culture wars alike. Byrd’s supporters were more regionally centered in the South, regardless of political party. The result was a witch’s brew of strange coalitions, general unease, and flipped seats. The result? Republicans won the House for the first time in 30 years, and Democrats lost control of the Senate as well.
Strangely enough, the Republican performance was not enough for one of the earliest culture warriors, Newt Gingrich, to defeat Jimmy Carter for reelection. Carter hung onto his seat by 884 votes after a campaign in which he roundly criticized Byrd on foreign policy, expressed mild misgivings about the education standards, and portrayed himself as a bipartisan dealmaker as opposed to Gingrich’s more spirited partisanship.
The new Republican majorities began to attack the unwieldy federal budget, in particular, rolling back as much of the Byrd Bill as was possible. Though it had been initially popular, the standards debate had left many Americans forgetful about the more substantive improvements it had brought about. The Republicans left the framework in place as outright repeal was unpopular, but they did their best to undermine it by restricting funding. Byrd’s veto pen kept them from totally wrecking it, but a number of the incentive programs for top-performing schools, particularly scholarships for higher education, were scaled back and even eliminated.
Efforts at a Balanced Budget Amendment failed, but Republicans did try to push Byrd on entitlement reforms. The president held the line, which helped him win back some liberal Democrats, but most believed it would be a top priority for a future Republican administration. For the most part, Congressional Republicans had abandoned talks of tax cuts in favor of emphasizing spending cuts and truly balancing the budget, which they believed would promote the most economic growth, especially as inflation began to creep up again around 1986 and 1987.
Byrd’s final two years left him embroiled in two scandals. The first harked back to the 1984 election and the Illinois case that challenged Weicker’s citizenship. Byrd had long maintained that his campaign had nothing to do with the legal challenges against Weicker. Many doubted it, but no one had ever been able to prove a real connection between the shadow organizations helping fund the lawsuits and the Byrd team. Until Elizabeth Drew published her bombshell report in March of 1987. The story alleged that Bob Beckel, the president’s campaign manager, had spearheaded an effort to recruit donors to fund the organizations, even bribing some of the plaintiffs named in the various cases, convincing them to be a part of the case.
Drew’s reporting came with plenty of documentation, files that had been taken from the DNC and printed right in the paper. Drew refused to reveal her source, but he was eager to take credit. A young political staffer named Joe Trippi, who had worked on Byrd’s reelection before starting at the DNC had stumbled upon the documents by accident and turned Beckel in.
Beckel immediately took the fall and insisted that Byrd knew nothing of his plans. Beckel would go on to spend several years in prison for campaign finance violations connected to the scandal. Byrd maintained his innocence. “The people want to know if their president is just another Richard Nixon,” Byrd said, accidentally parroting a Nixon quotation, “but I assure them all that I am not. I got here honestly.”
Two Congressional investigations failed to unearth evidence that Byrd knew about the operation to get Weicker thrown off the ballot, but Weicker later wrote that he believed Byrd had known all along and orchestrated the entire thing. “This man was a master of manipulation,” he wrote, “and I have no doubt in my mind that he did all he could to deny me – and the American people – the 1984 election.”
While the scandal was embarrassing for Byrd and furthered the idea he was an illegitimate president, it was not the most threatening scandal he faced in the back half of his second term.
The second, and more harmful, was “ChemGate,” as the press dubbed it.
Now, with Republican majorities determined to seek revenge on Byrd for the ‘84 election, several had teamed up with Jimmy Carter to look into America’s relationship with Iraq. Largely, the investigations went nowhere. Until August of 1987, when Iraq decided to invade Kuwait. The invasion was internationally condemned and the Soviet Union – which had helped Iran greatly during the War with Iraq – and China placed arms sanctions against Iraq. The United States and France held back on condemning Iraq, hoping that they would be able to get through the tumult without angering an important ally.
It wasn’t going to be possible. Wolfowitz and others on Byrd’s foreign policy team urged the president to continue supplying Iraq arms to win the war, even encouraging him to send troops. Byrd would have none of it, believing that Iraq had overstepped and opposing the idea of sending Americans to die in a war that had nothing to do with them. Wolfowitz and others believed that it was necessary to support Iraq in order to maintain access to their oil supply. Byrd refused to budge, however, and fired Wolfowitz from the administration. Several of Wolfowitz’s colleagues resigned in protest.
Publicly, Wolfowitz began calling for America to get involved in the conflict and support Iraq, deeming it vital to American interests. Privately, he began meeting off the record with Senate and House staffers to let them know that the administration had overstated the evidence absolving Hussein of using chemical weapons against Iran. He was willing to testify to that fact.
Wolfowitz appeared before a joint Congressional committee to say that in private meetings with Byrd, the president directed him to arrange the evidence about chemical weapons in a way that absolved Iraq of guilt. Historians continue to debate Wolfowitz’s motives. Until the day he died, Wolfowitz insisted he was telling the truth even though most in the Byrd administration don’t believe he was. As they remember it, the idea of defending Iraq had been a uniquely Wolfowitz project. Some believe Wolfowitz thought he could absolve himself of the controversy and position himself as a whistleblower who could be appointed Secretary of State in a future administration. Others think he was insane – burned by the Byrd White House and willing to do anything to get revenge.
In his 2022 biography of Wolfowitz, The Hellraiser, Kai Bird suggested a new and entirely different motive. Wolfowitz had been networking directly with Hussein. They were negotiating a contract for a private company that would have extensive oil production rights in Iraq. Wolfowitz planned to join their board after Byrd left office. When it became clear that Byrd wouldn’t come to Iraq’s aid against Kuwait, Hussein iced Wolfowitz out and the corporate board deal fell through, too. Furious that Byrd and Hussein had both crossed him, Wolfowitz felt that by sinking Byrd’s administration and making them appear too close to Iraq, Byrd would be forced to capitulate to the other NATO allies who wanted to aid Kuwait. American involvement against Iraq would surely mean the end of the Hussein regime – allowing American companies greater access to the region.
Regardless of his motives, Wolfowitz began to tell a version of events that implicated the Byrd White House in a messy foreign policy scandal. The Committee not only concluded that the Byrd administration had misrepresented the evidence against Hussein using chemical weapons, it further found that it had actually hid evidence that would have proven Hussein had used the weapons. Again, however, there was no evidence (aside from Wolfowitz’s testimony) that Byrd had been behind the effort.
For the final two years of his administration, Byrd largely retreated into the White House. He had harbored grand plans for his second term – furthering the educational reforms of the Byrd Bill and negotiating arms reductions with the Soviet Union. Neither came to fruition. Perhaps his only real victory of his second term was the appointment of James Marshall Sprouse to replace Lewis Powell on the Supreme Court. Sprouse joined Patricia Wald, Byrd’s 1981 appointment to replace Potter Stewart, on the bench.
His presidency has received something of a reconsideration in later years as the American public has come to believe he was not directly involved in the two scandals that haunted him. His legacy was also helped by the fact that after leaving the presidency, Byrd returned to the United States Senate in 1994 after Bob Mollohan retired. Reclaiming his seat, he became a Deputy President pro Tempore and fought tooth and nail to preserve the Byrd Bill despite frequent attacks and to bring pork home to West Virginia. While in office, Byrd penned a four-volume history of the United States Senate. He served there, the second U.S. President to serve in the Senate after leaving office, until his death in 2010.