The Foreign Service Journal, May 2008

hold goods in New York on their way to his next post, Caracas, where he worked to limit the commercial influ- ence of the Axis powers. In 1945, they were transferred to Managua, which temporarily had no U.S. ambassador. In a surprising devel- opment for someone so junior, Mr. Bernbaum found himself chargé d’af- faires, the highest-ranking officer in the embassy. For 18 months he man- aged to prevent the United States from recognizing a Nicaraguan gov- ernment installed in a coup by the dic- tator Anastasio Samoza. In 1947, the couple moved to Quito, where Mr. Bernbaum served as deputy chief of mission. Ecuador suf- fered a devastating earthquake, and both Bernbaums helped the country deal with the disaster. The couple also survived a whirlpool in a jungle river after their dugout canoe capsized and they were left for dead. Returning to Washington in 1950, Mr. Bernbaum attended the Nation- al War College, worked on a detail at the United Nations with Eleanor Roosevelt, and handled North and West Coast Latin American affairs at the State Department. In 1952, he was transferred back to Caracas, this time as DCM under his favorite ambassador, Fletcher Warren. He had the difficult job of dealing with anoth- er dictator, Marcos Perez Jimenez. Mr. Bernbaum returned to the department to become director of South American affairs in 1954. Dur- ing this period he accompanied Vice President Richard Nixon on his con- troversial trip to South America. At his next post, as DCM in Buenos Aires from 1959 to 1960, he worked with Ambassador Willard Beaulac to re- establish good relations with the Argentine government following the overthrow of Juan Peron. In 1960, just before leaving office, President Dwight Eisenhower ap- M A Y 2 0 0 8 / F O R E I G N S E R V I C E J O U R N A L 67 I N M E M O R Y APPRECIATION T HE P ASSING OF A H UMANITARIAN R EP . T OM L ANTOS , 1928-2008 B Y I AN H OUSTON , AFSA L EGISLATIVE A FFAIRS D IRECTOR Growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area, I was surrounded by places of great splendor and spots uniquely blessed by nature’s strokes. Shore- lines, golden-grassed valleys covered with rolling fields of wildflowers and soar- ing redwoods are but a few of the marvelous and subtle brushes on the surface of the area’s canvas. No place, however, reaches its true potential for beauty without quality and varied people. Attracting and embracing distinct people of diverse backgrounds is a particular attribute of the Bay Area. Tom Lantos was such a person. As a young boy and teenager, I particularly admired the complexity of those who seemed to genuinely step off the pages of history — people who were deeply patriotic and served with pride in the local community while laying claim with a textured accent to distant countries. Like my own immigrant parents, and countless other examples, all were unique and sturdy in their own right. Tom Lantos was born on Feb. 1, 1928, in Budapest and raised in Hungary. He was a strapping 16-year-old when Nazi Germany shattered his family’s world with a brutal invasion. Forced into labor camps in Budapest, he eventually escaped the senseless grip of the Holocaust, which claimed the lives of so many he loved deeply. These experiences profoundly shaped his outlook and course in life. After receiving a Ph.D. in economics from the University of California at Berkeley, Lantos and his wife, Annette, began to settle into the unique culture and life of the Bay Area — first in a small apartment in San Francisco, then in San Bruno and then Millbrae, a few miles south of San Francisco. A Democrat, he was elected to Congress in 1980 and served there until his death on Feb. 11 from cancer. Lantos, the only Holocaust survivor elected to Congress, was the co-founder of the 24-year-old Congressional Human Rights Caucus. Advancing human rights, alleviating poverty and enhancing democracy were the pillars marking his congressional record. A particular area of success was finding legislative vehicles to support the process of democratization in Central and Eastern Europe and in Russia and the republics of the former Soviet Union. I watched and listened to Tom Lantos closely, albeit at a formal distance, like an admiring student studies his teacher’s words in a crowded lecture hall. Through the years and right to the end of his life, I paid attention to what he said about human rights and the ideas he pursued to protect innocent victims in the backyard of his district and in countless patches around the world. There was a wisdom, a boldness, a grace in the caring eyes and rich voice of Tom Lantos. I learned as a youth and continue to appreciate that Tom Lantos was like an architect whose craft, done well, resulted in the design and construction of a bridge across which people link to improved and more fulfilling lives. But he was more than this. He evolved into the bridge itself. On his shoulders, across his strong back, over the firmness of an extended arm, we who have been touched by his vision, safely cross, suspended well above the tides he himself toiled through. Perhaps befitting one of San Francisco’s most treasured landmarks, his life represents a Golden Gate, a bridge, a guide to peace through the world’s fog.