Letters, Packets, and Phone Calls: The Quiet Steps that Built a Historic Victory
In the mid-1970s, I was juggling a career, raising a young family, and carrying a promise that weighed heavily on my shoulders: to restore the U.S. citizenship of my great-great-grandfather, Jefferson Davis. It wasn’t just a mission passed down from my grandmother—it was a personal calling. And slowly, piece by piece, the path began to open.
Some of the most pivotal steps came not through grand gestures, but through quiet determination: letters sent, phone calls made, research poured over in libraries long before we had search bars and digital databases. One of those quiet steps was reaching out to Senator Mark Hatfield of Oregon.
A Packet, a Book, and a Personal Appeal
Senator Hatfield was known as a liberal Republican—something that, even back then, raised eyebrows. But I believed his thoughtful approach to history and justice might align with my cause. After all, Jefferson Davis, decades before the Civil War, had made a passionate speech in Congress about defending the Pacific Northwest from British threats. Oregon was part of that region—and Hatfield represented it.
With the help of my cousin, William Davis Young (a veterinarian and GOP chairman in Lane County, Oregon), I got a personal connection to the Senator’s office. I carefully prepared a packet: covers from Hudson Strode’s four-volume biography of Jefferson Davis—especially the first, which emphasized Davis’s role before the war. My hope was that the Senator would see Davis not just as a Confederate president, but as a national leader with deep contributions to American unity, security, and policy.
To my amazement, Senator Hatfield responded.
He told me he’d purchased Strode’s first volume himself and had found it intriguing. That was a breakthrough moment—proof that the appeal had landed. I asked if he might consider supporting a bill to restore Davis’s citizenship. He didn’t commit then and there, but he said he’d get back to me. And that alone was more than enough to keep my hope burning.
Allies Begin to Step Forward
Shortly after that conversation, momentum truly began to build.
Congressman Trent Lott—then a rising figure in Washington—took my call with warmth and curiosity. He asked thoughtful questions, offered strategy, and laid out a plan to gather bipartisan support. He didn’t just say “good luck”—he rolled up his sleeves and offered help.
That call changed everything.
Not Just My Fight Anymore
The work ahead was still massive. I was flying across the country for my job at Chemical Bank, reading political biographies in hotel rooms, scheduling meetings in Washington, and scribbling down ideas on airline napkins. But now, I wasn’t doing it alone.
Senator James Eastland. Congressman Trent Lott. Senator Mark Hatfield. These men were more than names in a directory. They were willing to listen—to understand—and to lend their influence to a cause that, for them, wasn’t personal at all. But they believed in it anyway.
Their support reminded me that history isn’t changed only by those with the loudest voices. Sometimes, it’s the quiet persistence of a promise kept, a packet mailed, a call returned.
Want the Whole Story?
These early conversations marked the turning point in my 13-year journey to restore President Jefferson Davis’s U.S. citizenship. If you’d like to hear what happened next—including the dramatic moment President Jimmy Carter signed the bill into law—you can read or listen to the full account.
Click the orange button below for The True Story of Jefferson Davis’s Citizenship Restoration—free as an eBook or audiobook.
Because sometimes, healing history starts with a pinky promise… and a phone call.
—Dr. Howard Edward Haller