A Vote in the House, a Victory for History: The Final Push for Jefferson Davis
It all began with a promise to my grandmother. A pinky swear, really. But by 1977, that promise had carried me through more than a decade of intense research, lobbying, and prayer—and landed me on the steps of the United States Capitol.
The final two years of the journey to restore Jefferson Davis’s U.S. citizenship were a whirlwind of anticipation, action, and—at last—achievement.
It started on January 25, 1977. That’s when Senator Mark Hatfield of Oregon stood on the floor of the Senate and introduced Senate Resolution 16. His speech was thoughtful, respectful, and deeply informed. It didn’t just touch on Jefferson Davis’s leadership of the Confederacy—it reflected on his decades of national service, his vision for the Pacific Northwest, and his constitutional convictions.
That speech, as it turns out, had roots in something unexpected.
During a long illness, Senator Hatfield had asked me for something meaningful to read. I suggested Hudson Strode’s multi-volume biography of Jefferson Davis. He devoured it. And as he stood before his colleagues, he wove quotes and insights from those very books into his appeal. The words of a historian, the voice of a senator, and the quiet influence of a promise made to a grandmother—coming together in one powerful moment.
By April 27, the Senate passed the resolution.
Senator Alan Cranston sent me a copy of the final bill himself. I still remember holding that letter in my hands. For the first time, this wasn’t just a goal—it was becoming real. The bill was moving.
Then Came the Waiting
The House of Representatives, however, was a different story.
The bill hit a wall. For more than a year, it sat idle, with a few members of Congress objecting to the wording or pushing for changes behind closed doors. It was the hardest part of the journey—waiting, hoping, calling, and, sometimes, fearing that it might all fall apart.
Senator Thurmond called me one day and asked if I had someone championing the bill in the House. I told him I was working with Congressman Trent Lott.
“That’s good,” he said. “He’s the right guy.”
He was right.
Trent Lott didn’t give up. He kept the wheels turning behind the scenes, dealing with quiet resistance from a few holdouts. I wasn’t allowed in the room for those negotiations. “Let it ride,” they told me. “You’ve done your part. Now let the process do the rest.”
Still, I prayed. I called. I hoped.
A Call That Changed Everything
On September 10, 1978, I got the call I had been waiting for. Lott’s office told me the bill was expected to finally move. And just a few weeks later, on September 26, the House discharged the Committee on the Judiciary and passed the resolution—with amendments. That same day, the Senate agreed to the amended version.
After 13 years, it was done.
The whirlwind of that day—hearings, debates, approvals, signatures—still feels surreal. So many months of silence followed by a flurry of final steps. The language was tweaked slightly (“in lieu of” amendments, nothing major), but the heart of the resolution remained intact.
Jefferson Davis, my great-great-grandfather, would have his U.S. citizenship restored.
Not by rewriting history. Not by excusing it. But by recognizing his whole life and legacy, and allowing America to heal, just a little.
Want to Read the Actual Resolution?
You can download a free copy of the Joint Resolution by clicking the orange button below.
You’ll also get a chance to read or listen to my full personal account of this journey—what it meant to me, my family, and the country.
Because it’s not just about the past.
It’s about promises kept, lessons learned, and the quiet power of one voice.
—Dr. Howard Edward Haller