Bertie Bowman
original airdate June 3, 2008
Bertie Bowman rose from farmer's son in the Jim Crow South to entrepreneur, with a stop in between as the longest serving African American on the U.S. Capitol Hill staff. Starting in what was essentially a janitorial position, he went on to work for the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, first as clerk and retiring as hearing coordinator. Bowman is now president of his own company and a Senate Federal Credit Union board member. The South Carolina native writes about his journey in his autobiography, Step by Step.

Former Senate aide talks about arriving at DC's Union Station at age 13 after running away from his parents' South Carolina home. (9:53)

Full Interview (25:14)
Bertie Bowman
Tavis: In 1944, Bertie Bowman was a poor 13-year-old kid living in South Carolina. He decided to just run away from home and pursue a career working on Capitol Hill. What began as a part-time job sweeping the Capitol steps has turned into an extraordinary 60-plus-year career in Washington that now includes his position as the hearing coordinator for the Senate Foreign Relations Committee.
His acclaimed new book is called "Step by Step: A Memoir of Hope, Friendship, Perseverance, and Living the American Dream." Bertie Bowman, what an honor to have you on the show.
Bertie Bowman: Thank you for inviting me.
Tavis: I'm glad to have you here, sir. I should turn to the camera - go to camera one, thanks, Jonathan. Let me apologize to you right now, because there ain't no way - that's right, I said it, ain't no way I can do justice to the life that Bertie Bowman has lived in the time that I have to talk to him. But let me do the best that I can.
First of all, I said to the audience a moment ago you were 13 years old, and you decided just to run away. Where were your mama and daddy when you just decided you were going to run away in the middle of the night at 13?
Bowman: They were in bed, asleep. (Laughter)
Tavis: I'm laughing, but that ain't funny, Bertie. You know that's not funny.
Bowman: I know that's not funny.
Tavis: Your mama and daddy were - what got into you to make you just decide to run away from home in South Carolina and go to Washington?
Bowman: Well first, can I say I thank you for inviting me?
Tavis: You're very welcome.
Bowman: And it's really great to be so close to you, and I've tried so many times to get to you when you're in Washington, and things like that.
Tavis: I appreciate meeting you.
Bowman: And you have a lot of fans in Washington, a lot of my friends, pinochle group girls, pretty girls, they're your heart.
Tavis: I appreciate that.
Bowman: But getting back to the thing of -
Tavis: Now I see how you got that job in the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. (Laughter) Just talked his way right on into it.
Bowman: No, getting back to - there was - we had an old store that we hung out at called the MacDougal store, and I took a couple of hints I got from my father. I didn't steal them, but I took a couple of hints from my father and (unintelligible).
And when I got to MacDougal's store, this gentleman there, a White man, was there talking about running for reelection, and it was Senator Maybank now I learned later on. I didn't know at that time that it was Senator Maybank. And just while he was getting ready to finish his speech and everything, he was getting ready to walk to his car, and the guy was opening the door for him.
So I ran over to him. He said, "If you ever in Washington, come by and see me." So I guess I heard what I wanted to hear. So before the gentleman had closed the door, I ran over to the car - "If I come to Washington, sir, does that mean I can come by and see you, too?" He said, "Yes, my boy." And so that was part of the running away.
So after that, I couldn't hardly sleep for a few nights.
Tavis: Because you got a U.S. senator telling you -
Bowman: Got a U.S. Senator in Washington.
Tavis: - if you ever get to Washington, look me up.
Bowman: Look me up.
Tavis: So at 13, you can't sleep.
Bowman: I can't sleep. You know how you could be lying there, or whatever you may be doing, thinking about you already got the word from people who had gone up the road before you did, and talking about the Promised Land. So that kind of encouraged me more, so I got in that cotton field that night, changed my clothes, went to this little town (unintelligible) caught that bus, and went to Sumter, South Carolina, where you get the train to go to Washington.
And so when I got there, got to Sumter, the train had gone for that night. I didn't panic, but I was able to stay in a rooming house with a gentleman who was working at the train station. And I journeyed to Washington.
Tavis: How does a 13-year-old get on the train and make his way all the way to Washington without somebody asking you who you were, why you were there? You're a child.
Bowman: Yeah, but I'm a little big for my age. But people did look at me strangely, and I kind of - you don't just look them direct in the eye at that time.
Tavis: Don't look White folk in the eye back then.
Bowman: No, indeed, you didn't. And I was so glad that the bus was able to carry me, because if you on that bus and if the White didn't have a seat, you had to get up or the bus driver put you off at that time. And so I was lucky that that didn't happen. And when I got on the train, I met the porters and everything and I just became friends with them.
Helped them with their work and everything all the way to Washington on that train. But just imagine that at that age, giving the purser my money to get the ticket for me to come to Washington. He could have just taken off, but he didn't. People were very kind to me, and I said I guess I was in the good lord's care. Because if I'd have stopped to think about what would have - my parents were to say or something like that, I probably wouldn't have run away from home.
But I don't recommend it to any 13-year-old at this age to do what I did in 1944 at age 13.
Tavis: Yeah. Those Pullman porters, I think of those porters and the job that they did, I'm so glad they looked out for you on those trains.
Bowman: Well, I wish I could go back and see those people, but I have not been able to find anyone who gave me all the help that I needed to go to journey to Washington. And getting to Washington, when I got to the Union Station, man, I thought that Union Station was Washington.
All those lights. I'd never seen that many lights before. So I asked the guy for the bathroom, and he showed me where the bathroom. And I came and I saw all these people lying on the bench at Union Station. So I kind of put a little thing, next thing I knew it was the next morning, and I got up and I kind of look around, saw people bustling and rushing.
I guess they were trying to get to their trains or whatever. And I went outside. And when I went outside, this guy said - I asked this guy, I said, "Man, you know my cousin Willie?" He said, "Man, where you from?" (Laughter) "Where you from?"
Tavis: Hold up, wait a minute. (Laughter) So you go on the train and make your way from Sumter, South Carolina to Washington, D.C., and you have a cousin named Willie in D.C.
Bowman: D.C., yeah.
Tavis: And you were so young you just walked outside the train station and said, "Do you know my cousin Willie?"
Bowman: Yeah, because I had lost his address, you see? (Laughter) But I knew he lived on D Street. I remember D Street.
Tavis: Right.
Bowman: I said, "Man, he live on D Street." In South Carolina, everybody know everybody.
Tavis: Yeah. (Laughs)
Bowman: They could be miles away, but you know people.
Tavis: Right.
Bowman: So I said, "Maybe" - boy, he looked - Alabama? Where you from? That's the kind of words he used. So he said, "Man," he said, "D Street North or D Street Northeast, all up," he said, "I can't help you." So then I look up, I saw the Capitol and Maybank come to my memory. I headed for the Capitol.
And I went to the Capitol building and there was this Black guy named Mickey. He was sweeping the steps, so I asked him, I said, "Do you know where Senator Maybank office is?" He said, "No, I don't know." He said, "Ask that man in that nice suit over there -" it was a White guy. So I asked him and a couple of others, and then finally I found out where Maybank office was, and I went to the office.
This lady that was in there, in the book I call her Ms. Jane. I don't remember her name. And she said, "Well, I'm sorry, the senator's not here today, so come back tomorrow." So I went on back to Union Station and I stayed over night there at that time, and I came back the next day and I met Senator Maybank.
Tavis: And so what did the senator - first of all, did he recognize you?
Bowman: I don't think so.
Tavis: What did you say to him and what did he say to you?
Bowman: Well, when she said, "Senator Maybank, this is Bertie Bowman. He's from your hometown." And I said, "Do you remember me, Senator?" (Laughter) And he said, "Yes." I know he didn't remember me, but at that time. So I said, "I need a job." He said, "Well, I tell you what you can do. You go back out to those steps where you just came in, and see that guy - he said his name is - I didn't know his name was Mickey until he told me. He said, "See Mickey."
Tavis: This is after you told him.
Bowman: After I told him.
Tavis: You reminded him of the story of how you met him.
Bowman: Right, how I met him.
Tavis: And he said, "Come look me up."
Bowman: Right.
Tavis: Okay, so you tell him the story, he tells you to go outside.
Bowman: Yeah. Go see Mickey.
Tavis: Go see Mickey.
Bowman: He'll give you - tell him to give you a job helping him sweeping the steps. I thought they were putting me on the payroll, but I find out later helping Mickey sweeping the steps was Senator Maybank paying me out of his own pocket, $2 a week, working with Mickey sweeping the steps and all that. That was really nice, to get out there on those steps and look around. Ooh, I'm not on the farm anymore. I don't have the plow anymore, have to do all these things.
So after staying there for a while and working with the restaurant people - I used to try to hustle here and there to get whatever I can - so we'll go back to Union Station, and I guess you can call me a homeless, because a lot of people were sleeping on the benches at that time, and that's where I was staying.
So one night, after working in the - helping the guy out in the restaurant, I met the maitre d' of the restaurant. Now, at the time, I didn't know he was a maitre d'.
Tavis: You didn't know what the maitre d' was, yeah. (Laughter)
Bowman: I didn't know what a maitre d' was, but anyway, I just saw him in a nice black suit with a carnation in his lapel. So he gave me the food and I went downstairs in the closet where Mickey would get his brooms and mops and stuff from, and I fell asleep on that closet floor in the United States Capitol.
I slept there that night and the next night, and the next time, Mickey came and caught me asleep in the morning. And he said, "You can sleep here, because if you do, I may lose my job." So that didn't last like that. And so finally, after a while, Senator Maybank called me in his office.
He said, "Now, Bertie, I'm going to give you a real job." Real job? I thought I already had a real job, working in the coffee shop. But in the meantime, after Mickey told me I couldn't sleep on the Capitol floor, Mickey took me and we went to Union Station, we got a cab driver to help me find where my cousin lived.
Tavis: Willie comes back into the story.
Bowman: Find Willie. Yeah, Willie. So the guy said, "Man, D Street - let's go D Street southeast first," because he knew there were Black families, I guess, in that area. At that time, they would say colored family. And so we went and the second house we went to, 124 D Street SE -
Tavis: Was Willie's house.
Bowman: Was Willie, where he was staying with (unintelligible). (Laughter) How lucky I was, smelling that good cooking and all that stuff I hadn't smelled for a long time. And then Willie said, "Bertie." I said, "Yeah." I said, "Man, I had a hard time there, three or four weeks trying to find you." He said, "What happened?" I said, "I lost your address."
So I went and met Ms. Emma Johnson, who was the landlady of the house, and then she told me that she would only charge me $2 a week. That was all the money I was making, so I had to get a shoeshine box then to kind of help (unintelligible).
Tavis: When did you call your mom (unintelligible)? Or reach out to them?
Bowman: It was almost a year. (Laughter) I didn't call because I had a brother that ran away to Florida, and my father went down there and got (unintelligible) and brought him back to that farm, and I didn't want that to happen to me. But Ms. Emma Johnson, she sat me down and she said, "Boy, do your mother know you here in Washington?"
I said, "No, ma'am." Well, (unintelligible). I know if I tell her tales, she may - you think about how people raise you, your aunts and everybody, I figured (unintelligible) she may whip me. I still had in my mind that somebody would punish you, or something like that.
But she said, "Okay, I'm going to write your mother and tell her that you're all right." So that's how they know.
Tavis: When you finally did reconnect with your parents, what did you say to them? What do you recall saying? What'd they say to you?
Bowman: After I got - well, to go back you have to read it in the book about when I went to the - we put my age up to get a working permit and all that stuff, and Mickey helped me to get a working permit. Then when the draft board decided to draft me, I wasn't age to go in the service.
But we went down, Mickey had a cousin or somebody worked down in the place (unintelligible) somewhere, and he got it straightened out. And so after I finally got the draft letter in, then before I could go overseas I went to see my mother and father. That was two, three years later, something like that.
Tavis: So you got a chance to see your parents before you got drafted.
Bowman: Right. And they were - my mother received me nicely, but I'm still a little scared of my father.
Tavis: I guess so. (Laughs)
Bowman: I don't know what he going to say. But I look at him and I done grow almost tall as he is. So I figured shoot, I'm in the Army now. He can't do nothing with me. But my mother said, "Go over there and see your dad, boy." So I went over. Then when he said, "Hey, boy, how you doing?" And I said, "How you doing?" I could feel the warmth from him then that he really wanted - but he never really hugged me.
But I guess - I don't know if you've ever been anywhere a father will say things to you (unintelligible) never just grab you and hug you and say "Son, it's so glad to see you." He didn't exactly say it. He said, "Come here and let me show you what I did." My running away from home was making it nice for my other brother.
He had a car, they had bicycles, they had all these kinds of things besides marbles and overalls or something that you get at Christmas time.
Tavis: Wow, that's amazing. Tell me about this Senate career, and how that really jumped off beyond Senator Maybank.
Bowman: Well, after I went to the coffee shop, Senator Maybank died in 1954.
Tavis: He died suddenly.
Bowman: Yeah, died suddenly, yes. Because when he saw me before he went on his vacation in 1954, he said, "Bertie, are you going home?" I said, "I don't know, I may go home someday." He said, "Well, I'm going down to get that cool breeze coming in from (unintelligible)" someplace.
But the answer to your question is that I went to the Senate janitors, from sweeping the steps to the coffee shop to the Senate janitors, from the Senate janitors to messenger to the barber shop. That's where I met Lyndon Johnson, in the barber shop and all that stuff like that, and then the secretary of the Senate. And if you want me to go on, I can go on.
Tavis: No, please, yeah.
Bowman: And once I met the secretary of the Senate and everything, I started with the janitor, we used to get calls from the senators, to go to the senators' offices and do certain things, work with the senators and things like that. I was always the one to jump up.
They called me Youngblood at the Senate downstairs. I called it the downstairs crew, and they kind of took me under their wings. And they would say "Youngblood'll take care of it," and I would run. Because they were kind of happy where they were, or something like that.
Tavis: You called it the downstairs crew, but other people called it the invisibles.
Bowman: Yeah, I kind of - we were the invisibles.
Tavis: The Black folk were pretty much invisible.
Bowman: Yeah, we were invisible because nobody see us, and basically what you mean by invisible is that we were working behind the scene and things that would be said in front of us, senators would not say before others. We'd know about things that was in the newspaper later or something like that, or things that happened on the Senate floor. And the downstairs crew was the one that really helped prepare the senators and stuff to do things for the United States.
Tavis: So Maybank dies suddenly, he gets replaced by a guy named?
Bowman: Strom Thurman.
Tavis: Strom Thurman. (Laughter)
Bowman: A write-in candidate.
Tavis: A write-in candidate, Strom Thurman. And you end up having a relationship then with Strom Thurman.
Bowman: Right, basically.
Tavis: So how did that happen?
Bowman: When he got in, I was the first one to jump upstairs when his swearing-in and stuff. I met him as he walked off the Senate floor. I said, "Senator, I'm Bertie Bowman and I'm from South Carolina." He said, "Oh, you are?" I said, "Yeah, Senator Maybank was my senator," I said too, just like that. He said, "Well, I tell you, Bertie, any time you need anything, you let me know. You or your family, let me know." And we became friends right then and there.
But I got in a discussion one time about I was sweeping the - you know he was a Democrat at that time.
Tavis: Originally, exactly, yeah.
Bowman: He wasn't a Republican. But anyway, he said, "I heard you were sweeping the steps and you worked in the barber shop and you know Lyndon Johnson," dah, dah, dah, and all that stuff. And I said, "Yes, I do, Senator." He said, "Well, just keep in mind whenever you need anything, you come and see him," and I did work for him, and others, too like that.
And to make the story (unintelligible) he helped me to get in school. Any time he would meet me in the hall or see me anywhere, he would stop and talk to me. Anybody need anything (unintelligible). And another thing, when my sister and her husband, they had 12 kids, the place was falling apart. I told him about how that was.
Next thing I know I got a call that he'd got them a trailer. My other sisters and brothers, we got together and hooked up the electric and the water and stuff for them, and any other one who would lose a job or something like that, I'd tell Senator Strom Thurman, he would - he had my back all the time, and he was a real friend.
Tavis: It wasn't just Maybank, it wasn't just Thurman. You had a relationship with Jesse Helms.
Bowman: Jesse Helms. Now that's another good story. And before that, it was Fulbright.
Tavis: Absolutely. You used to drive - I jumped ahead. You used to drive for Senator Fulbright.
Bowman: Right, but let me -
Tavis: We all know the Fulbright scholar, you used to drive for this guy.
Bowman: Yeah, let me give you about Helms. When he was senator elect, I met him. And he came and he said, "Oh, you're on the (unintelligible)," he said, "I heard a lot about you." Senator Helms heard a lot. He said, "Strom told me about it." He said, "We South Carolina boys stick together." He said, "I want to get on this Foreign Relations Committee."
To make a story you read in the book, he said, "If I would become chairman of this committee, I'm going to call you back. So I retired in August of 1990, after all these years, because my father-in-law had passed and I was going to take over his limousine business. We'll get to that in maybe just a little short thing.
So after my retirement and stuff, but he'd call me, Helms would. And I retired. He said, "When I become chairman, I'm going to call you back to be my hearing coordinator." Well, at that time, we didn't know about him going to the U.N. and all that stuff.
But I stayed there and I took care, worked off and on with the committee, dealing with Baker's confirmation hearing and Eagleburger, these different Secretary of State during the Reagan administration. So when he became chairman in October of '99, he called me back.
Tavis: You'd been retired now 10 years.
Bowman: Been retired 10 years.
Tavis: You were running a limousine company. Your family's limousine company.
Bowman: Limousine company, my tour guide business, and my cab.
Tavis: So Helms calls you because he became chairman and asked you to come back.
Bowman: Yeah, he said, "Bud, how would you like to come back to work?" I said, "Senator Helms, I don't think -" but Barbara, we were at the - the chief clerk of the committee, we were at dinner at their house and she told me that Helms would call me. I talked to her, so he did call me. And he called me back.
He said, "Well, how would you like to start to work right now?" I said, "Well, Senator, I'll have to come and see. I've got to check with my wife." But anyway, that's what I told him. So the next morning, I was in his office and we talked, and he said, "I'm going to the U.N. to have a hearing. I'll be the first senator to go there." I guess he wanted his legacy.
And he said, "I think you can be my hearing coordinator and be the one who can handle it."
Tavis: And a hearing coordinator does what?
Bowman: Hearing coordinator does, he gets the agenda, he gets the resume of others, meet the witnesses, people who are coming up for ambassadorships or Secretary of State.
Tavis: You're basically the producer of these Foreign Relations hearings.
Bowman: Producer, set up the whole thing for them when they come, yes. And we have 21 senators now, and I take care of all 21 senators. I call them my senators. I say I'm their boss, but really, they're the senators. So I have to check with the media, get the media set and the seating for the relatives and stuff for the families and the witnesses that are coming down. It all depends on what the subject is, how we deal or how many people we have.
Tavis: Like I said, you're the executive producer of those hearings that we watch on TV all the time.
Bowman: Yeah, any time you see one of those Senate Foreign Relations Committee hearings, especially if Secretary of State there, anybody, the big guys or big girls or whatever, you can say Bertie Bowman is the hearing - he's handling that, he's running that show.
Tavis: Tell me quickly about the time - I mentioned Fulbright. Tell me about the time that Fulbright - was it Fulbright that took you to meet Dr. King?
Bowman: Yeah.
Tavis: It was Fulbright, you were driving for Fulbright one night.
Bowman: Yeah, I was driving for Fulbright one night, and anyplace he had to go or something, I would drive him and his wife. So this particular night Ms. Fulbright didn't go with us, but we went to the Reynolds' - you heard of the Reynolds tobacco? They were very good friends.
Tavis: Oh, yeah, I've heard of them. (Laughter) Have you heard of the Reynolds tobacco company? Yeah, Bertie. (Laughter) Go ahead.
Bowman: That's kind of funny.
Tavis: No, that is funny. (Laughter) So you went to the Reynolds' house.
Bowman: Went to the Reynolds' house. So I'm sitting out there, so the guy calls, he said, "Come on in and sit down," because it was a little cool out. So I went to sat on the porch. Next thing I knew the guy come out, he said, "Bertie, Senator Fulbright wants you." And when he called me and I look, I saw this short guy, mister - Reverend King.
Tavis: A little short guy, yeah.
Bowman: Reverend King. And he said, "I want you to meet Reverend King." Boy, I was shocked because when the March on Washington, I seen him in the news, just like I've seen you and never really got close to you , like I am now. And boy, it was such a great pleasure to meet that man. And he said, Senator Fulbright said, "This is Bertie, he's on my staff, and I would like for you to meet Bertie."
Tavis: What do you make of the fact - I'm just trying to juxtapose right quick - you're meeting Dr. King, this great, iconic civil rights hero, and yet the people who have really sponsored you and helped you have been these segregationist White senators. Helms, Thurman. I'm glad it worked out for you, but you ever thought about the fact that the guys that helped you -
Bowman: Well, they didn't do no different than Fulbright. Fulbright (unintelligible) I think for the bill, but these other guys did. Whatever Fulbright didn't do, they didn't do, or whatever. But nobody never asked me about Fulbright. But when you have somebody your friend, man, and they're going to stand behind you and they're going to do things for you and help you to get in school and ready to give money out of their pocket to you and things like that, that's what you call a friend.
Although the things a lot of them said hurts, but you've got to overlook that when you're trying to survive, and that was my deal. And people say, "I don't see how you can do this or how you can do that," but I was able to let that kind of slide off. As you say, you let it slide off because you don't want to get drowned, and I just let it slide off.
And those guys were right at my back any time, Thurman and Helms helped a lot of Blacks get started. I think you know Helms was in the radio business or something before he got started. He got a lot of people started down there. And although he said some things that he wanted to get in because of (unintelligible) almost beat him out, but they knew what to say to get reelected.
Tavis: It is - (laughs). Now you see why I apologized up front. It's a fascinating story of a life that started, really, at 13, when he ran away from home while his mama and daddy were asleep in the other room, and here he is now, the hearing coordinator for the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. The forward to this book is written by - he asked me if I had heard of Reynolds and the Reynolds family, you might have heard of this guy.
The guy who wrote the forward to the book is named Bill Clinton. We ain't got time to share the story of Bill Clinton being an intern.
Bowman: No, no, he was a messenger.
Tavis: When he was a messenger, exactly, a messenger.
Bowman: A messenger, he got paid. Exactly, he was a messenger. There's a little difference. They're trying to get something to pay the interns now, which would be great, but he was a messenger. But I met a lot of friends, man. Secretary of States, all the diplomats and dignitaries and all that stuff, man, back during my time. And once you meet Bertie, you never let him down; you're his friend forever, so you're hooked. (Laughter)
Tavis: I'll take that. I'll take that. I'm a friend - (unintelligible) FOB. Forget Bill - friend of Bertie. That's what I am. (Laughter) The new book by Bertie Bowman is called "Step by Step: A Memoir of Hope, Friendship, Perseverance, and Living the American Dream." It is, as you can imagine, a fascinating read, I highly recommend it. Mr. Bowman, nice to meet you.
Bowman: Nice to meet you, sir.
Tavis: Glad to have you on the program.
Bowman: (Unintelligible.)
Tavis: No, you're fine, I appreciate you. Thank you, sir.
