Back in the early 1990s, when I was a young Air Force captain teaching political science at the Air Force Academy, I was also involved, in my off duty hours, with an environmental education organization, The Windstar Foundation, founded by a couple of remarkable guys: John Denver and Tom Crum. If you are of a certain age, you remember John for his music, which is how I first became aware of him and his work, but he was a passionate and dedicated environmentalist, as was (and still is) Tom. As I became involved in Windstar, I got to know both John and Tom. I miss my old friend John to this day and am happy to report that I’m still good buddies with Tom.

For a number of years the Windstar Foundation hosted an annual conference every August in Aspen, with a different environmental focus each year. We’d have about four or five thousand people show up for a weekend of great talks during the daytime, and at night, John would put on a mini-concert, which was always a hoot.

In 1991, I was asked to speak to that year’s conference about the role of the military and national defense in the larger environmental security issue area. I was scheduled to speak in mid-afternoon, right after another important Coloradan I had not previously met, the remarkable Pat Schroeder.

She gave a lovely and insightful talk. But it was the way she responded to a question asked of her that would resonate with me for years, and would help me make one of the most important decisions of my life: to run for Congress.

We lost Congresswoman Schroeder this last week, and our nation is the poorer for the loss. But there is no doubt she lived a life that mattered and touched the lives of countless people not just here in Colorado, but around the world.

Her path to congress will, I hope, make you cringe, at least a little. The breathtaking sexism and misogyny she faced is just stunning. For example, when she announced her first run for Congress, she was a Harvard Law School-educated lawyer, university employee, and activist. Yet the newspaper at the time reported “Denver Housewife runs for Congress.” After winning her election in 1972, the then-Speaker of the House Carl Albert repeatedly tried to swear her husband into office, even as he repeatedly insisted “no, it’s her!” 

Oh, and when she tried to become the first woman to serve on the House Armed Services Committee, the then chair said no, as women didn’t belong on military committees. After being forced to accept her, the chair further insulted her by awarding her a “half” a seat, which she was forced to “share” with the only black member of the committee. Nevertheless, she persisted, and would eventually serve 24 distinguished years in the House. She became a huge champion for military families, among other areas of interest.

And so it was that I found myself in the Aspen music tent on that lovely summer day listening to Schroeder speak. After she finished her speech, she invited questions. After a few policy-type questions, a person stood to ask her about the political climate of the day. The questioner stated Congress was terrible, and she didn’t trust any elected leaders, and woe is me, and more. I’m not sure what I expected in response, but Schroeder was, as always, remarkable in her reply.

“Frankly,” she said, “I’m sick of that question.” She went on to chastise the questioner, noting that it is easy to criticize the Congress, or government in general. She was sick and tired of people complaining government doesn’t work, when they themselves have done nothing to improve the situation. Schroeder looked at the poor lady who’d asked the question and said, “if you don’t like it, run for something.” She urged her, and frankly all of us in earshot, to stop complaining and to get involved, be it at the schoolboard or the congressional level. Give a damn, she urged. Stop complaining and become part of the solution. There was a somewhat stunned silence, followed by applause.

But her words did give me pause.

I had joined the Air Force through the ROTC because I felt I owed our great nation something. My father was in the Army Air Corps in World War II, and now it was my turn. My initial plan was to serve a tour or so, and then move on with my civilian life, as did my dad. But a funny thing happened on the way to becoming a civilian – 25 years, 4 months, and 12 days went by, and I found myself retiring in 2006 as a Lt Colonel. I’m honored to have served my country in uniform, but after those wonderful and remarkable years were gone, I recalled Schroeder’s admonition and decided she was right: if I wanted to complain about things, I should try to be part of the solution.

So, I ran for Congress in 2008.

I lost, of course, as I am a moderate Democrat who lives in a heavily GOP area. But I’m proud I did run, as I took Pat Schroeder’s words to heart. She and her struggle helped to inspire me. I can only hope her example can continue to inspire others for years to come.

Thank you, Congresswoman Schroeder, for your service and your example. Our state and our nation are better for your service.

Hal Bidlack is a retired professor of political science and a retired Air Force lieutenant colonel who taught more than 17 years at the U.S. Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs.