“Trailblazer.” “Legend.” “Inspiration.” “Hero.” “Political giant.” “Pioneering American.”
Those are just a few of the superlatives used to describe Sen. Dianne Feinstein (D-Calif.) in the wake of her passing last week at the age of 90. And they all fit.
Feinstein was, indeed, a historic figure, with an incredible, productive, change-making career as chair of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors, as mayor of San Francisco, and as the longest-serving female U.S. senator.
Sure, she should have stepped down earlier this year. No matter. At her best, she was a kick-ass senator who knew how to accomplish great things. Against all odds, she successfully delivered a ban on assault weapons in 1994. She’s responsible for preservation of more public lands than any other Senator: 300,000 acres of wilderness in Northern California; creation of the Death Valley National Park, the Joshua Tree National Park, and the Mojave National Preserve in 1994; and protection of an additional 7.6 million acres in the Sonoran desert.
California’s first female senator, Feinstein broke up the old boys’ club that had been the Senate. She became the first woman to chair the Senate Intelligence Committee, first to chair the Senator Judiciary Committee, first to preside over a presidential inauguration. She was also a pioneer in support of gay and lesbian Americans, performing a civil union ceremony in her backyard for two lesbian friends in the 1970s, decades before same-sex marriage was legally recognized.
Nobody doubted her loyalty or backbone. If she were on your side, you could have no stronger ally. But, as many senators learned, if you went against her, you were spared no mercy. During Senate debate on the assault weapons ban, when Sen. Larry Craig (R-Idaho) suggested “the gentlelady from California needed to become a little bit more familiar with firearms,” Feinstein fired back: “I am quite familiar with firearms. I became mayor as a product of assassination. I found my assassinated colleague [Harvey Milk] and put a finger through a bullet hole trying to get a pulse. Senator, I know something about what firearms can do.”
Not even her fellow Democrats were spared. In 2014, the Obama administration pressured Feinstein not to release the findings of a Senate Intelligence Committee report documenting the CIA’s illegal use of torture on suspected terrorists after Sept. 11. Feinstein refused to buckle. She released the full report, declaring: “History will judge us by our commitment to a just society governed by law and the willingness to face an ugly truth and say, ‘Never again.’”
But I’ll remember Dianne Feinstein most as a warm and caring friend. I first met her in 1969, when she was running for her first political office, the San Francisco Board of Supervisors, and I was running a campaign against her. There were half a dozen candidates, of whom the top vote-getter would become chair of the board. I was so impressed by her that I ended up hoping that she, not my candidate, would win — and she did. We became friends and remained so until the end, throughout her service as supervisor, mayor and senator.
When I left my post as chair of the California Democratic Party in 1996 for Washington, to join CNN’s “Crossfire,” Dianne took me under her wing. She often invited Carol and me to dinner, took us to dinner at the White House, showered us with gifts, including an original painting — and would not let us buy a house until she’d checked it out personally.
History will remember Dianne Feinstein as a great senator. I’ll remember her as a treasured friend.
Press hosts “The Bill Press Pod.” He is the author of “From the Left: A Life in the Crossfire.”