Today marks the 25th anniversary of the untimely passing of Congressman Mickey Leland. While leading a relief mission to a refugee camp in Ethiopia, his plane went down in remote mountains, killing him, his staff and a group of international leaders.

Mickey was my boss, my mentor and my dear friend. He died as he lived, trying to end world hunger and serving as a voice for the voiceless. His story is worthy of celebration and remembrance, as the values he embraced still live on a quarter of a century later.

First elected to the Texas House of Representatives in 1972, Mickey was unlike anyone who had ever served in that body previously. Picture an African American with an afro, platform shoes, leather shoulder bag and bright dashiki walking around the Texas Capitol. He caused quite a stir.

By the time he was elected to the U.S. House of Representatives in 1978 - replacing Barbara Jordan - he had traded in the dashiki for a business suit. But that did not change what he fought for. He used his position in Washington to shine the spotlight on the plight of the powerless in this world.

Mickey had a motto, quoted from the Talmud: "If you save one life, you save the world." He put that motto into practice, fighting to bridge the differences in our society, expand diversity and end world hunger.

One of the first things he did in Congress was create a program that has sent hundreds of students from his congressional district to Israel during the summer of their junior year of high school, helping to broaden their perspective of the world.

He also began an internship program to start casting the net for more minority students to get involved in government service - one that I emulated through the Texas Legislative Internship Program. Mickey opened the door to students interested in government and public service, and helped them get their foot in the door for training and experience. His efforts helped change lives, and also - in small ways - helped change the culture and complexion of the professional staff in Congress.

But the cause that came to define Mickey was the plight of Africa, particularly the children of the continent. He talked frequently and eloquently about how this issue became his defining cause. On a trip to the Sudan in 1984, he watched a young girl die of starvation right before his eyes. He said he saw her face every day.

He knew something had to be done, and he was in a position to do something about it. He worked hard to expand ties and increase aid to the nations of Africa. He championed anti-hunger efforts and helped expand U.S. aid to Ethiopia during the famine in 1985.

He traveled frequently to Ethiopia and across Africa and put into practice his deep belief that we are supposed to help "the least of our brothers."

I still miss Mickey every day, but the lessons that he taught me will always guide my public service.

He taught me that there are no lost causes or unwinnable fights. He taught me that patience, cooperation and dedication are the small but vital steps of progress.

He taught me that change comes in constant and consistent action, not in one fell swoop. He taught me that we are responsible not just for ourselves and our families, not just for our friends or neighbors, but for the people and children of the world.

And he taught me that we can all make a difference if we simply choose to get involved and take a stand.

So I am using the anniversary of Mickey's passing as a moment to rededicate myself to the values that he espoused: courage, compassion and a commitment to all people. I hope today's solemn occasion will inspire more to follow his lead.


Rodney Ellis, a Democrat, represents Houston in the Texas Senate.