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I received a phone call from an unfamiliar number in New York. The area code was ‘917,’ yet the identity of the caller became clear as soon as I heard the voicemail message.
The voice was unmistakable.
He did not introduce himself.
He did not need to.
‘Chad, you’re the only one who missed me,’ the voice said, resonating like a powerful machine.
That voicemail came from the late Representative Charlie Rangel, a prominent figure in New York politics, who wanted to reassure me of his well-being.
At the time, I was the only member of the congressional press corps to notice that the veteran Democrat had been absent from votes and public appearances for weeks.
No articles in Roll Call acknowledged his absence, no news from Politico, and no statements from his office.
Charlie Rangel simply was not on the radar.
Following his voicemail, I reached out to his communications director, Hannah Kim, and his chief of staff, George Henry. They confirmed he was indeed alright, yet they withheld certain details that only Rangel could provide.
It wasn’t long before Rangel himself called me — from his sickbed — proving he was very much still alive with the unmistakable sound of his iconic voice.
‘I wanted you to hear it from me,’ Rangel insisted.
During that pivotal moment in 2012, Charlie was sidelined due to a back injury and a viral infection, making it difficult for him to stand for extended periods.
From 2008 to late 2010, I followed Rangel through the halls of Congress as he weathered an ethics scandal that culminated in his censure by the House. This event served to tarnish the legacy of a war hero and founding member of the Congressional Black Caucus.
Rangel first took office in 1970. However, following the scandal, he found his political star significantly dimmed.
But in 2012, any information about an aging yet legendary congressman like Rangel still qualified as newsworthy. Thus, when he called, I was grateful to hear about his health struggles.
The ethics issues he faced likely weighed heavier on Rangel than his physical ailments. So confident was he in his integrity that he referred himself to the Ethics Committee for review.
The investigation began in 2008 when Rangel leveraged his position as chairman of the Ways and Means Committee to solicit funds for a school bearing his name at City College of New York. Additionally, he failed to disclose substantial income from rental properties, including a villa he owned in the Dominican Republic, and misused a rent-controlled Harlem apartment as a campaign office.
Rangel’s infamous 1972 silver Mercedes-Benz, which was not registered and hadn’t been driven for four years, found itself improperly parked in the garage of the Rayburn House Office Building. Specifically, the House prohibits lawmakers from utilizing the garage for storage purposes.
The car’s removal on September 19, 2008, by a towing company became significant fodder for gossip, yet the real story lay elsewhere that night.
Then-House Speaker Nancy Pelosi had called then-Treasury Secretary Hank Paulson to address the impending financial crisis. Rangel’s troubles became an afterthought amid the chaos of the deteriorating economy, overshadowing his missteps.
Despite the temporary distraction, the House Ethics Committee continued its investigation. The culmination of this inquiry occurred in 2010 when the House voted to censure Rangel, marking the first House censure in 27 years.
The vote was overwhelmingly bipartisan, with Rangel standing somberly before lawmakers as he accepted the consequences of his actions.
‘He violated the public trust,’ stated then-Ethics Committee Chairwoman Zoe Lofgren.
Reflecting on those tumultuous times, I once humorously suggested to Rangel that he could blame me for his issues with the Ethics Committee.
Rangel maintained his stance that his actions warranted no scrutiny, so he chose to self-refer to the Ethics Committee.
Back in 2008, I encountered Rangel’s aide, Emile Milne, in the Capitol’s basement. He waved a stack of papers while in pursuit of the Ethics Committee.
‘The Ethics Committee,’ Milne replied when I asked him what he was after.
This package held Rangel’s defense documentation, representing the initial ‘self-referral’ to the committee.
Knowing the location of the Ethics Committee, I escorted Milne there, aware this moment would shape Rangel’s legacy.
Between 2008 and 2010, I shadowed Rangel nearly daily within the Capitol. I tracked him during pivotal meetings, including the one where Pelosi stripped him of his chairmanship. I listened as he responded to accusations in a passionate address on the House floor following the inquiry’s formal initiation.
One particular evening, a group of reporters pressed Rangel relentlessly with questions, and he grew visibly weary.
Finally, in an exasperated moment, he shouted, ‘Sergeant Charles B. Rangel. 85718162! And that’s all I’m going to say about it!’
The impact of this moment resonated clearly with me, reflecting Rangel’s deep frustration.
Rangel, a decorated Army veteran who served in the Korean War, carried the scars of battle both physically and mentally. He earned the Purple Heart and Bronze Star after enduring grave injuries and valiantly leading his men to safety amid danger.
But in the political arena, the press quickly turned Rangel into a political captive.
A notable point lies in the fact that Rangel passed away on Memorial Day, an occasion steeped in military significance.
In August 2008, Rangel released his autobiography titled ‘And I Haven’t Had a Bad Day Since,’ chronicling his journey from a high school dropout to a significant figure in Congress. His narrative serves as a testament to perseverance against enormous odds.
Despite his monumental accomplishments and contributions to American politics, Rangel faced substantial repercussions that altered the trajectory of his career.
His philosophy remained compelling — despite his trials, he often claimed that he hadn’t had a bad day since his war experience.
In 2012, while I was likely the only journalist observing Rangel’s absence from Congress, the legacy he leaves will resonate with many for years to come.