Edwin S. Cohen (Testimonial‪)‬

This is not the first time I have spoken to honor Edwin S. Cohen. I spoke at two of his retirements--at least--and in the Rotunda at both his 75th and 90th birthday celebrations. Each time, and on many other occasions over the years when I have spoken about tax law or policy in his presence, I would always steal a glance at Eddie, looking for that twinkle in his eyes, hoping to bring a smile to his face, or even an outright giggle. Today, I know I will still look, as I will for years to come, though I realize that I can no longer find his eyes, except in my own mind's eye. Eddie's absence is palpable; my heart is heavy. On July 4, 1939, when Eddie Cohen was a twenty-four-year-old lawyer at Sullivan and Cromwell, the New York Yankee's legendary first baseman Lou Gehrig--who had contracted a fatal disease that cut short his remarkable baseball career and his life--stood before a packed Yankee Stadium and uttered the most famous sentence in sports history: "[T]oday, I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth." Even people who know little and care less about sports have heard about this. But no one remembers what Gehrig said next: why he considered himself the luckiest man on earth. He explained it: "Look at these grand men," he said. "Which of you wouldn't consider it the highlight of his career just to associate with them for even one day?" And then he talked about the people he had worked for as a Yankee: Jacob Ruppert, the Yankees' owner, Ed Barrow, the general manager, and Miller Huggins and Joe McCarthy, the two managers he had played for. "Sure, I'm lucky," Gehrig said.