Lewis’s voice — urging young graduates to “get in the way” and find a way to get in “good trouble, necessary trouble” — echoed throughout the Rotunda as a recording of his 2014 speech at Emory University’s commencement ceremony was played. Afterward, Pelosi summoned all those present to stand and give a full ovation.
Ahead of the memorial service, the House of Representatives unanimously approved a measure renaming H.R. 4, a voting rights bill, after Lewis.
Earlier Monday, Lewis’s body made a final journey to the capital’s civil rights landmarks, pausing at the Martin Luther King Jr. and Lincoln memorials.
The motorcade took the coffin of Lewis past the Lincoln Memorial, where he was the youngest speaker at the 1963 March on Washington, and the newly minted Black Lives Matter Plaza outside the White House, where the civil rights icon made his last public appearance in early June. As “Amazing Grace” could be heard, the hearse paused at the plaza.
Lewis, who was diagnosed in late December with pancreatic cancer, died July 17.
After an arrival ceremony in the Capitol’s Rotunda, a host of high-profile people paid their respects inside the building, a group that brought the 2020 presidential campaign front and center. Presumptive Democratic presidential nominee Joe Biden was among those expected to honor Lewis.
President Trump, whom Lewis publicly clashed with and declared “illegitimate,” told reporters outside the White House on Monday afternoon that he would not be attending the memorial events.
About 110 to 120 seats were spaced out in the cavernous Rotunda, about a third or less than would normally be on hand for an arrival ceremony. Members of the Congressional Black Caucus, seated in the southern half of the room, occupied about half the allotted space. Many CBC members were wearing black masks with white lettering reading “Good Trouble” in honor of Lewis’s personal motto.
Other attendees included senior lawmakers such as Rep. Richard E. Neal (D-Mass.), chair of the Ways and Means Committee, on which Lewis served for decades, and members of the Alabama and Georgia delegations.
Potential vice-presidential picks Sens. Kamala D. Harris (D-Calif.) and Elizabeth Warren (D-Mass.), and Reps. Karen Bass (D-Calif.) and Val Demings (D-Fla.) were also on hand. D.C. Mayor Muriel E. Bowser (D), who appeared with Lewis at BLM Plaza last month, his final public appearance, was seated with the CBC.
Republicans on hand included Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (Ky.), Sens. Roy Blunt (Mo.), Charles E. Grassley (Iowa), Joni Ernst (Iowa) and David Perdue (Ga.) and House Minority Whip Steve Scalise (R-La.).
McConnell delivered remarks honoring Lewis. He recalled hearing Lewis speak at the March on Washington more than 50 years ago, and said Lewis “lived and worked with urgency because the task was urgent.”
“But even though the world around him gave him every cause for bitterness, he stubbornly treated everyone with respect and love,” McConnell said.
When the ceremony ended, the House and Senate sergeants at arms coordinated a receiving line in which VIPs could pay their final respects to Lewis, beginning with his son — John-Miles Lewis — standing before his father’s coffin. The rest of the Lewis family, accompanied by his longtime chief of staff, Michael Collins, then circled the casket and said goodbye.
A steady stream of House and Senate members, all of them wearing face masks due to the coronavirus pandemic, then paid their respects in groups of about 10 to 12.
Lewis is only the second black lawmaker to lie in state in the Capitol, after his close friend, Rep. Elijah E. Cummings (D-Md.), who died in October, lay in state in National Statuary Hall.
More than two dozen people lined the King memorial Monday awaiting the motorcade. Among them was Jackie Smith, 63, who had left home in Raleigh, N.C., at 5:30 a.m. to pay his respects to Lewis.
“He meant a lot to me as an African American,” Smith told The Washington Post, describing Lewis as his role model. “He was someone who, as he said, got into ‘good trouble,’ and a person who believed you could get a lot done without violence.”
Many brought their children. Stephanie Cornish, 42, said she rented the documentary “John Lewis: Good Trouble” so her 12-year-old daughter would understand the gravity of his loss and legacy before traveling to the memorial from Bowie, Md., to see his funeral procession.
Led by a fleet of 16 motorcycles, the hearse slowed to a stop just ahead of the memorial to Lewis’s friend and mentor in the civil rights movement.
Sean Kennedy was welling up.
“I’ve had these emotions since he passed and I kind of internalized them. I felt I just had to be here today without question,” said the 55-year-old from Bethesda.
He rushed to catch up with the hearse for one last look at Lewis. As it carried on toward the Lincoln Memorial, Kennedy said: “I’m so thankful I came. It’s nice to be able to say goodbye.”
Hundreds also gathered at Washington’s Black Lives Matter Plaza to watch Lewis’s motorcade pass through one of the city’s newest landmarks. There, Janet Purnell, 65, danced and blew bubbles at the center of the plaza, just feet from where the late congressman stood during his final public appearance last month.
Purnell, who lived in the District for more than 34 years, said what she admired most about Lewis was that he fought tirelessly for others until his death. The reason she attended Monday’s procession, she said, was simple.
“I just had to be here to honor this human being,” she said. “I wanted to be in his presence one last time.”
As the crowds swelled into the afternoon, a speaker system blared audio of Lewis’s 1963 speech at the March on Washington. When his motorcade finally arrived and paused at the center of the plaza, some raised their fists and others put their hands on their hearts — but most could only stop and stare.
Among those who watched in amazement was Mariel Collazo Schwietert, age 10, who traveled with her family from New York to see the procession.
“We’re still fighting over rights that we should’ve seen solved a long time ago,” she said. “I don’t know why we’re still doing this now.”
Bowser also stopped at the plaza to pay tribute — telling reporters after the procession that she had a chance to talk to Lewis’s family and relay how much he meant to the city.
Asked about his legacy, Bowser said a fitting way to honor Lewis’s life would be for Congress to restore protections of the Voting Rights Act, which the House passed in December.
“An honor to his life would be that the Senate pass the voting Rights Act that they’re sitting on,” Bowser said. “I agree with so many who said getting the Voting Rights Act restored is a fitting, fitting tribute to John Lewis.”
Like Cummings, whose coffin was then positioned in front of the door to the House chamber for the public to pay tribute, Lewis’s coffin will be moved out of the Rotunda.
The public has been prohibited from entering the buildings of the Capitol complex since mid-March, because of the novel coronavirus pandemic, so Lewis’s coffin will be positioned at the top of the center steps of the Capitol, just outside the Rotunda.
Beginning about 6 p.m. Monday, people will be able to walk up to the bottom of those steps to pay tribute to Lewis, with social distancing and mask-wearing requirements in place. Members of the public can see Lewis all day Tuesday, before he is scheduled to be flown to Atlanta to lie in state Wednesday in the Georgia Capitol ahead of a funeral at Ebenezer Baptist Church, the historically black church where King preached.
The week’s events follow tributes to Lewis over the weekend in his native state of Alabama, including a final procession over the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, where Lewis led the “Bloody Sunday” march in 1965 that ended with state troopers beating Lewis and other marchers.
