Shortly after the election of 1984, Senator Robert C. Byrd of West Virginia, the majority leader, appointed me to serve as chairman of the Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee. I served for two years, through the midterm elections of 1986. The purpose of the committee (both parties have such committees in both houses of Congress) is to help members of their party to get elected. Over my two years of service I recruited candidates, raised money for them, and campaigned across the country in their behalf. One of my earliest and best decisions was to appoint Nancy Pelosi of San Francisco as chair of our fundraising efforts, a task at which she excelled. She was so impressive that I urged her to consider a run for governor of California. She decided to run for the House of Representatives instead and eventually became the first female speaker of the House. Despite President Reagan’s popularity, the election went well for us. Eleven new Democratic senators were elected and we regained the majority. In gratitude Byrd appointed me to serve as deputy president pro tempore of the Senate, an entirely honorary position.
It was in that capacity that I served on the welcoming committee that greeted the president when he came to the Capitol to deliver his State of the Union address the following January. In a pleasant but nonsubstantive role, several members of the House and Senate gather to formally welcome the president on that occasion each year. After the president enters the Capitol building he and the members of the welcoming committee are taken to a room just off the House chamber as they wait for the chamber to fill. On this evening I asked the president if there was anything we could get for him. Yes, he replied, he’d like a cup of very hot water, as hot as we could get it. I asked one of the House clerks standing by the door to get it and he did so, returning within a few minutes. As Reagan gingerly sipped from the steaming mug he explained that for years he’d sipped on very hot water before major appearances because it relaxed his throat and lowered his voice a couple of octaves. “Frank Sinatra told me about it. He swore that it helped him get through many long performances. Well, I thought, if it’s good enough for Frank Sinatra’s throat, it’s good enough for me. So I’ve been doing it ever since and I’m telling you, it works.”
“Well,” I responded, “if it’s good enough for Frank Sinatra and Ronald Reagan, then I’m sure it’ll be good for me, so I’m going to try it.”
I’ve been drinking hot water before every major speech ever since, including, ironically, the occasions on which I delivered the Democratic response to some of President Reagan’s nationally televised addresses. I don’t know whether it works in a physical sense or just psychologically, but it does seem to relax my throat and put me at ease.