Senator Lindsey Graham died Saturday night at 71, hours after stepping off a plane from Ukraine and Turkey — his tenth trip to Kyiv since the war started. The preliminary cause of death was aortic dissection due to arteriosclerotic cardiovascular disease, a rupture that can kill in minutes and gives no warning.
He was still working when his heart gave out.
Graham first came to Washington in 1995 as a congressman from South Carolina's third district. He won his Senate seat in 2002, taking over for the retiring Strom Thurmond, and he never let go of it. Over 31 years in Congress, he chaired the Senate Judiciary Committee, served 33 years in the Air Force, Air Force Reserve, and South Carolina Air National Guard — retiring as a colonel in 2015 — and became one of the most recognizable Republican voices in America. He was also one of the most frustrating.
Graham had a gift for making you cheer on Monday and throw your remote at the TV by Friday. He was John McCain's wingman for years, which meant he carried water for the establishment when it counted. He ran against Trump in 2016 and said things about the man that would've ended most political friendships permanently. Then he came around. Then he came around hard. By the end, President Trump called him a "fantastic advocate in the Senate" who "could do things that other people" couldn't — a guy who could walk across the aisle and actually close a deal with a hostile Democrat.
But none of that is what we should remember first.
September 27, 2018. The Senate Judiciary Committee hearing room. Brett Kavanaugh, a man with an impeccable judicial record, sat before the nation while Democrats tried to destroy his life with an eleventh-hour accusation from Christine Blasey Ford — an allegation with no corroboration, no contemporaneous evidence, and a story that shifted with the political wind. Dianne Feinstein had sat on the letter for weeks, waiting for maximum damage.
Graham had watched the circus all day. And then he detonated.
"This is the most unethical sham since I've been in politics," he said, his voice shaking. Not performing. Shaking.
"What you want to do is destroy this guy's life, hold this seat open and hope you win in 2020."
He turned to Kavanaugh directly: "This is not a job interview. This is hell."
Then he looked at the Democratic side of the dais and delivered the line that will follow him into history: "Boy, you all want power. God, I hope you never get it. I hope the American people can see through this sham."
He noted that he'd voted for both Sonia Sotomayor and Elena Kagan despite disagreeing with them philosophically. "I would never do to them what you've done to this guy," he said. When a protester shouted something about a polygraph, Graham didn't miss a beat: "Why don't we dunk him in water and see if he floats?"
Kavanaugh was confirmed 50-48 on October 6, 2018. Trump, speaking after Graham's death, said the Kavanaugh defense was Graham's "finest moment" and called it "a top 10, maybe a top five moment in the history of the Senate." He added: "It was an incredible display, and he did it from the heart. He felt strongly about Brett, and he did it from the heart, and it turned that whole thing around."
Trump was right. That hearing was where the tide turned. Not because of procedural maneuvering or backroom deals, but because one senator dropped the mask, stopped calculating, and said what everyone on our side was screaming at their televisions.
That was Graham at his best. The problem was that Graham at his best showed up unpredictably. The same man who breathed fire for Kavanaugh would go wobbly on immigration. The hawk who wanted to bomb Iran's nuclear program would find common ground with Chuck Schumer on amnesty provisions that made the base's blood pressure spike. He'd go on Hannity breathing fire Monday and fold like a lawn chair by Friday. You never knew which Graham was walking into the chamber.
The contradictions were real. But so was the man. He gave more than three decades of his life to the uniform and another three to the Senate. He never married. He never had kids. The Senate was the thing.
Now his seat is open. South Carolina Governor Henry McMaster will appoint a temporary replacement under state law. A special Republican primary is set for August 11, with candidate filing beginning July 21. Reports indicate Rep. Joe Wilson is the likely interim pick. South Carolina is deep red — the seat stays Republican. The question is what kind of Republican fills it.
Trump said his last call with Graham was Saturday night, right after Graham landed from Ukraine. "He was full of vim and vigor," Trump said. "He was tired. He said, I'm tired because it's a long trip, but other than that, he was fine."
A long trip, and then his heart quit. Thirty-one years in Congress, 33 in uniform, ten trips to a war zone most senators visit once for the photo op.
Say what you want about the lawn-chair moments. The man showed up.