Not the Year for Happy Returns

Birthdays of Longest-Serving Senators Mark a Difficult Month

So much for happy birthdays, senators.

They have grown old together, pals across the aisle, Ted Stevens and Robert C. Byrd. And each year, as their power swelled, they've celebrated birthdays two days apart: Stevens on Nov. 18 and Byrd on Nov. 20.

Why, was it only a year ago that Byrd's pals threw him a mondo 90th birthday party, with Stevens in the house and Byrd singing with a bluegrass band?

Now comes birthday week 2008, their 39th together in the Senate, and with it their new realities.

One defeated by crime. The other dethroned by time.

Stevens, the longest-serving Republican senator in U.S. history, lost his reelection bid on Tuesday, his 85th birthday, after a long, slow count of ballots cast Nov. 4. A federal conviction for failing to disclose $250,000 in gifts had much to do with ending more than three decades of invincibility in Alaska. Stevens conceded yesterday, issuing a statement that never mentioned his trial just minutes after Democrat Mark Begich told reporters he had not heard from his opponent.

Byrd, the longest-serving senator in U.S. history, marks his 91st birthday today, his first since relinquishing the hugely powerful Appropriations Committee chairmanship that he held so dear. The West Virginia Democrat stepped down as chairman on Nov. 7 after what Senate sources describe as months of pressure from colleagues concerned that he was physically incapable of handling the demanding job.

He retains his seat on the committee, and he remains president pro tempore of the Senate, meaning if somehow the president, vice president and House speaker were to perish simultaneously, Byrd would have a job way bigger than Appropriations chairman -- he would be president of the United States of America.

On the eve of his birthday, Byrd was in the same Senate chamber where he has argued and cajoled, pleaded and fought for nearly a half-century. After two days of avoiding crowds gathered for the lame duck legislative session, Byrd appeared again at his Senate desk with an aide by his side. In that soft West Virginia drawl, he read slowly and deliberately to a nearly empty chamber, mostly sticking to a prepared text urging passage of an economic stimulus package he co-authored. His hands jumped and trembled -- refusing to mind him. Still, he found a way to get to the next page, his chin pinned at his chest. His left eye didn't seem to want to open, he rubbed his nose, but he soldiered on -- one of the few senators to stand up for a foundering proposal.

Barely lifting his eyes from the sheet before him, he spoke of a conversation the day before with President-elect Barack Obama -- a reminder that "Big Daddy" still has some juice in this town.

"Hear me now!" Byrd said.

"Now, hear me," he said seconds later, and his voice sought a bygone oratorical height. "Listen closely and measure each word."