TIME: Almanac 1990/1990 Time Magazine Compact Almanac, The (1991)(Time).iso/time/caps/83/83capts.2

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                ú]^¢                                                    2««Champion of the Elderly

April 25, l983

At 82, Claude Pepper is at the peak of his career

"There are only two Democrats who really bug Reagan," says a
presidential aide.  "One is Tip O'Neill, and the other is that
Congressman who keeps talking about Social Security."

That Congressman watches the world through trifocals.  He wears a
pacemaker in his chest to quicken his heartbeat when it slows.  One
of
his heart valves is synthetic; it replaced the natural one that
developed a calcium deposit.  He is nearly deaf without his hearing
aids.  A bulbous nose dominates his rumpled face, which looks
forever
melancholy even when its owner is not.  He is 82 years old.

But Claude Denson Pepper is like a vintage automobile with new
parts:
He gets better and more powerful with age.  By an odd convergence
of
historical trends, Pepper's unshakable of New Deal liberalism is
in
phase with the graying of America, even at a time when conservatism
marches forcefully through Washington's corridors of power.  Some
36
million Social Security recipients, and millions more who are
nearing
retirement, count on Claude Pepper to protect their rights and
well-
being.  And Pepper has doggedly done so.

That should be especially evident this week; President Reagan is
scheduled to sign a historic package of Social Security reforms
designed to save the system from insolvency.  The undisputed
champion
of the elderly, Pepper has held the fate of the delicately balanced
compromise in his hands.  He had fought against all cuts in
benefits,
gave ground only grudgingly when concessions had to be made to keep
the legislative alive, and responsibly withheld the veto many of
his
more zealous followers had wanted him to wield.  Says Pepper,
accurately and with no false modesty:  "If I had not voted for it,
then there would not have been a package, and there would have been
complete chaos."

After 14 years as a U.S. Senator from Florida and 20 years as a
Congressman from the Miami area, Pepper is at the peak of his
astonishingly tireless and durable career.  He demonstrated his
political punch in the 1982 congressional elections, stumping with
surprising energy in 26 states.  Of the 73 House Democrats he
supported, 54 won.  The difference he made varied, of course, from
race to race.  But his presence never hurt.  "Claude was the
sought-
after speaker by Democratic candidates in 982,"  recalls House
Majority Leader Jim Wright.  "At one rally for elderly people, we
expected 200, but 800 showed up and waited for an hour and a
quarter
to hear him."  Adds California Congressman Tony Coelho, Democratic
congressional campaign committee chairman:  "No single person had
more
of an impact on the 1982 elections.  His mug was all over this
country--on posters, on banners, on TV and billboards.  He was a
symbol to the elderly and the helpless."

While Pepper's critics contend that he exploited the
Administration's
hastily prepared and ruefully withdrawn initial proposals for
cutting
Social Security benefits, he is liked and respected by House
colleagues of both parties.  Last January he became chairman of the
House Rules Committee, which can determine not only the timing of
legislation but sometimes whether a bill comes to a vote at all.
He
reluctantly relinquished his chairmanship of the House Select
Committee on Aging.  "It was wrenching," he says.  "Like choosing
between a brother and a sister."

"His very person debunks the myths about aging," says Jack Ossofsky
of
the National Council on the Aging.  "Concern about the elderly, the
poor and the frail has characterized his entire career."

He intends to do more.  A bill sponsored by Pepper and passed 1978
eliminated any mandatory retirement age for most federal employees
and
raised it from 65 to 70 for workers in private industry.  He has
a new
bill in the House hopper to remove any such age limits at all.
"The
only mandatory retirement," he says, "is when you can't do the work
any more."

The Senator turned Congressman (everyone still calls him Senator,
even
though he has not been one since 1951), has an urgent interest in
cancer research.  In 1937 he sponsored a bill that created the
National Cancer Institute.  Now he wants the Government to provide
an
extra $100 million in each of the next five years for work on the
disease.  "You know, I lost my wife Mildred to cancer in 1979," he
says quietly.  "Last month I spoke at a wake for Don Petit of my
staff, who died of cancer in Florida.  A woman on my staff is
suffering from bone cancer and was told she'll probably never be
able
to walk again.  Well, we've got to do more to try to stop this
disease."

But will not all such social programs cost too much in an age of
soaring budget deficits?  Others may blend to political fashion,
but
Pepper never wavers:  "I would rather live with $200 billion
deficits
and have more people living, than the reverse.  And if we don't
spend
the money fighting cancer and arthritis and poverty and poor
housing
and all the rest, they'll just spend it on the military or
something
else."  In Pepper's view, that settles that.

"He's reversed the aging process," says Florida Senator Lawton
Chiles.
"He has more political power than ever."

While Pepper's body has required a few repairs, his mind remains
sharp.  His memory is so keen that he can be introduced to seven
people at lunch and thereafter address them unerringly by name.
He
recalls conversations with F.D.R. more than four decades ago in
vivid
detail.  Pepper is more impressive on the podium.  He never reads
from
a text, rarely uses notes, yet the words roll out in graceful
sentences.  The loose skin on his chin and neck fairly quivers with
indignation and a clenched fist punches the air when he berates "an
Administration that wants to cut $11 billion from Medicare."  When
he
recounts stories of poor people hurt by budget trims, Pepper
sometimes
gets misty-eyed.  So do his listeners.  Congressman Coelho was
present
on one such occasion during the 1982 campaign.  "Claude's eyes
teared
over, and by the time he finished speaking, 70% of the audience
were
teary-eyed.  It was just a tremendous emotional experience."

Neither exercise nor diet explains Pepper's mental agility and
physical stamina.  He loves golf but gets out on the course only
sporadically, recently shooting 48 over nine holes at Coral Gables
Country Club and winning 75 cents from his opponents.  He admits
that
he does not even walk as much as he would like, although when he
does,
he says, "I walk fast."  He eats heartily and is a bit overweight
(5
ft 7 1/2 in., 180 lbs.).  His one dietary idiosyncrasy:  he has
soup
and crackers with each meal, even breakfast.

Pepper gave up smoking in 1933.  Strangers often view his red,
veiny
nose as a sign of heavy drinking, but he denies it.  Except for one
or
two glasses of white wine with lunch and dinner, he abstains from
alcohol.  In the house dining room, waitresses automatically bring
Pepper his soup, crackers and a carafe of wine.  No connoisseur,
he
never asks for anything fancier than chablis.

If there is a key to Pepper's vitality, it is that he enjoys his
work
and has never lost his passionate concern for people and issues.
His
home telephone numbers are listed in both the Washington and Miami
directories, and constituents often call, seeking help with red
tape
or support for legislation.  He keeps regular office hours in both
cities and meets with anyone who asks to see him.

After a speech to retirees or other older folks, Pepper lingers to
bask in the affection of his admirers.  He moves slowly among them,
sometimes bussing a few of the women who do not kiss him first.
He
eagerly grasps the outstretched hands of the men.  His rapport with
the elderly is such that his office is inundated with their
messages
whenever an issue that concerns them is pending in Washington.
During
the Social Security debate last month, some 3,000 letters and 100
phone calls sought his attention each week.  Says Pepper about the
elderly:  "They deserve much--and need much.  I am helping them."

On a typical weekday in Washington Pepper rises by 6:30, reads the
Post and keeps a breakfast appointment at 8.  He drives himself
around
in a long Lincoln Town Car, carries his own bag through airports,
normally travels alone.  A house keeper cares for his waterfront
condominium in Miami, and a staff aide, James Brennan, 66, shares
his
northwest Washington apartment.  The two often dine out together.
Then Pepper watches the 11 o'clock news, skims the New York Times
and
goes to bed by midnight.

His weekends are scarcely less regimented.  Not long ago, he
traveled
to austin for a Saturday speech, then flew to Miami for a funeral
on
Sunday.  He took 10 o'clock flight that night to Boston, getting
to
bed in Cambridge at 3 a.m.  A limousine picked him up at 7:45 a.m.
Monday for breakfast with Harvard President Derek Bok.  (A gentle
flirt with women, Pepper probably would have preferred eggs and
bacon
with Bo Derek.)  He held a series of press conferences, spoke for
an
hour to Harvard Medical School gerontology class, then returned to
washington for an afternoon of House business.  That night, Pepper
made another speech.

Often described as a millionaire (he says he would qualify only if
some Florida beach land he owns were sold for his asking price of
$600,000), Pepper has no qualms about drawing some $650 a month in
Social Security benefits that he qualified for at the age of 72.
And
he says he will not mind paying tax on this pension, as required
under
the new law for high income earners.  Says he:  "Social Security
is an
insurance program to which I have contributed.  It isn't welfare."

The Peppers had no children, and he has long referred to his staff
as
"my family,"  But he has been  lonely without Mildred.  He sadly
recalls the day when he and his wife sat at a small table in their
Miami home after she had begun treatments for cancer.  "Well,
Claude,"
said Mildred, his wife of more than 40 years, "it looks as if we
may
be coming to the end of the road."  He embraced her and said
through
tears, "Don't talk like that, Mildred.  I can't think of life
without
you."  In their Washington apartment, there is still a note in his
wife's handwriting attached to a shower curtain.  It reads:  "After
you shower, please close this curtain."

"He has flair," says Anne Ackerman, 69, a Democratic leader in
Miami's
Dade County.  "He has style.  He epitomizes what a public servant
should be.  Claude Pepper represents an America that is a
civilization
rather than just a country with borders.  He is what you want life
to
be."

Part of Pepper's style is his droll humor.  Some of his jokes may
be
as old as he is, but his deadpan delivery delights his audiences.
Arriving late for a speech, he tells his listeners about two men
in
colonial days who were set to duel at dawn.  Only one of the
antagonists showed up.  The other sent a note by messenger.  It
read:
"I'm running a little late this morning.  Please go ahead without
me."

Another Pepper story, which Reagan has taken to telling on
occasion,
involves a bishop and a Congressman who arrive in heaven together.
St. Peter shows the Congressman a lavish suite of rooms, while
assigning the bishop a small one with no view.  When the bishop
complains that his lifetime of service to the church rates
something
better, St. Peter replies:  "Don't feel bad, Bishop.  You know, we
have thousands of bishops up here, but this is the first
Congressman
we ever got."

Neatness is another Pepper trademark.  He wears a fresh suit,
usually
with vest, every day.  His sparse white hair (he stopped wearing
a
toupee in 1980 after it blew off as he greeted President Jimmy
Carter
at the Miami Airport) is carefully combed.  Presiding at a recent
House Rules Committee hearing, he leaned back, motioned to an aide
and
whispered in his ear.  The aide rushed to straighten a portrait on
a
side wall.  Pepper nodded his approval.

"In Alabama, we lived in a house that was little more than a place
to
sleep," recalls Claude's brother Frank, 65.  "We did not have a
car.
I can remember hearing him come home late at night, rehearsing
speeches he was going to give when he became a U.S. Senator."

Pepper cannot really explain how he managed to grow up uninfected
by
the redneck racism prevalent in the Alabama farm country where he
was
born in 1900.  "Why, I was full grown," says Pepper, the eldest of
four children, "before I ever traveled on a paved road."  Whatever
the
reason, he felt the stir of ambition early on:  at the tender age
of
ten, he carved the words Claude Pepper, United States Senator on
a
tree.

Pepper entered the University of Alabama in the fall of 1918.  To
help
pay his way, he worked from 4 a.m. to 7 a.m. hauling coal and ashes
at
a power plant.  He starred on the debating team, ran on the track
squad, made Phi Beta Kappa, but lost his first election: for
student-
body president.  When his oratorical skills took him to a contest
in
Chapel Hill, N.C., "it was the farthest north I had ever been."

The North beckoned, however.  "Why shouldn't I go to the best law
school there is?" he asked himself.  He applied to Harvard, was
admitted and got tuition, books and $100 a month support money from
the Veterans Administration.  The reason:  during his brief Army
service, spent training at the university of Alabama, he suffered
an
injury that developed into a double hernia.  Pepper's appreciation
for
both education and the benevolent Uncle Sam was never to leave him:

"I get so burned up when anybody tries to cut back on the money
available to help needy students."

After Harvard, Pepper taught law for a year at the University of
Arkansas, then set up practice in Perry, Fla.  In the next eleven
years, he handled some 30 murder cases, taking one of them
successfully all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court.

Active in Democratic politics, Pepper, at 28, became a member of
the
Florida Democratic executive committee.  He won at the polls for
the
first of 15 times;  he was elected to the Florida house of
representatives.  One of his first bills showed his early concern
for
the elderly.  It would let anyone over 65 fish without a license.

But his sense of racial fairness may have cost him his seat two
years
later.  He was defeated after voting against a resolution that
criticized Mrs. Herbert Hoover for inviting the wife of a black
Congressman to the White House.  Recalls Pepper:  "I thought my
political career had died aborning."

He resumed his law practice, opening an office in Tallahassee and
bringing his parents to live with him in 1931.  The Depression had
proved ruinous to his father.  Pepper learned firsthand the
problems
of the elderly, caring for his father until he died in 1945 at the
age
of 72 and his mother until her death in 1961 at 84.

But Pepper yearned to return to politics.  He made a brash bid in
1934
to unseat U.S. Senator Park Trammell in the Democratic primary.
F.D.R. was in the White House, and Pepper's campaign slogan was
wordy
but effective:  "The Welfare of the Common Man Is the Cornerstone
of
the New Deal."  Virtually unknown, he nevertheless forced a run-off
and lost by a mere 4,050 votes.  When both of the state's Senators
died within weeks of each other in 1936, Pepper filed for one of
the
vacancies.  His earlier showing scared off challengers, and at 36,
he
was elected to the Senate unopposed.  Says Pepper, a Baptist:  "I
realized then that providence can handle my affairs much better
than I
can."

Roosevelt sought the freshman Senator's support for his
power-grabbing
and ultimately unsuccessful plan to pack the Supreme Court with
additional Justices.  Pepper had reservations, but far from timid,
he
said he would go along if F.D.R. would help him win election to his
first full six-year term in 1938.  "I will, and that's a
commitment,"
promised the President, who kept his word.

Pepper, in turn, became one of F.D.R.'s stalwart supporters on
Capitol
Hill.  When resistance to New Deal economic programs grew in the
Senate, the Florida newcomer rose to scold his elders:  "We
haven't'
gone too far, we haven't gone far enough.  This is not eh Promised
Land.  Are we going to commit the same folly that the children of
Israel did?"  His colleagues rose in an ovation.  Newspaper
Columnist
Drew Pearson called the speech "one of the greatest of its kind
ever
heard in the Senate chamber."

Pepper easily won re-election in 1938 after defeating a former
Florida
Governor in the primary by more than 100,000 votes.  but his
liberalism was antagonizing businessmen in the state, who vowed to
turn him out of office.  Pepper had been instrumental in passing
the
nation's first minimum wage law, which guaranteed workers 25 cents
an
hour.  "Business never forgave me," he says.  It was the last major
piece of New Deal legislation.

His views on foreign affairs also undermined his Florida support.

He and his wife Mildred visited Berlin after his 1938 re-election,
and
the Senator was alarmed by what he recalls with wry understatement
as
"the mutterings of war."  Pepper joined the push for a military
draft
and came up with an innovation of his own.  He was convinced that
the
only way the U.S. could stay out of the war in Europe was to help
the
Allies win it.  Since they were waiting warplanes on order from
the
U.S., Pepper reasoned, why not send them aircraft out of the U.S.
FAir
Force, replacing these planes later as the order came off
production
lines?  This idea,a rejected at first in the Senate, became the
Lend-
Lease program, which provided Britain, in particular, with crucial
ships, warplanes and other war materiel.

For his efforts, Pepper was hanged in effigy at the Capitol in
August
1940, by women who opposed his "warmongering."  He still has the
coconut head and stuffed denims that the women had fashioned to
look
like him.

Pepper won re-election in 1944 but, mainly because of his liberal
views, speaking invitations in Florida dropped off as civic clubs
and
local Chambers of Commerce blackballed him.  Business leaders were
building a campaign war chest to beat him in 1950.  He played right
into the hands of his foes.  Traveling abroad in 1945, Pepper met
Joseph Stalin and naively described the Soviet dictator as "a man
Americans can trust."

The following year, Pepper accepted an invitation to attend a left-
wing political rally in New York's Madison Square Garden.  Waiting
backstage with Secretary of Commerce Henry Wallace and others,
Pepper
was asked to pose for a group photo.  As he did so, Paul Robeson,
the
opera singer who was widely considered a Communist, took a position
beside him.  The resulting photo of Pepper looking chummy with a
black
Soviet symphathizer was to prove a political disaster for him back
home.

Pepper also incurred the potent wrath of Harry Truman by joining
a
dump-Truman movement at the 1948 Democratic convention.  Pepper
felt
that Truman had abandoned Roosevelt's domestic programs.  Pepper
and
others tried to persuade World War II Hero Dwight Eisenhower to run
as
a Democrat.  They got word that Ike would not seek the nomination,
but
would accept it.  Thus Pepper led a Florida delegation pledged
largely
to Ike, gaining headlines that made Truman furious.  Ike left
Pepper
out in the cold by sending him a telegram withdrawing his name from
consideration.

Truman did not forget.  Shortly after upsetting Republican Thomas
Dewey in the election, he summoned George Smathers, then a Florida
Congressman, to the White House.  Pepper had helped Smathers get
elected.  "I want you to do me a favor," Smathers recalls Truman's
saying.  "I want you to beat that son-of-a-bitch Claude Pepper."

That 1950 senatorial election was one of the dirtiest on record.
The
Robeson-Pepper photo was circulated widely.  So too b\was a book
called the Red Record of Senator Claude Pepper, which distorted his
attitude toward the Soviet Union.  He was stuck with the Label Red
Pepper.

But the campaign is chiefly remembered for remarks attributed to
Smathers--and later denied by him--in TIME.  Quoting Northern
newspapers, the magazine said Smathers used fancy language to
convey
sinister meanings to benighted rural listeners:  "Are you aware
that
Claude Pepper is known all over Washington as a shameless
extravert?
Not only that but this man is reliably reported to practice
nepotism
with his sister-in-law, and he has a sister who was once a thespian
in
wicked New York.  Worst of all, it is an established fact that Mr.
Pepper before his marriage habitually practiced celibacy."

Pepper was defeated by 67,000 votes.  "On election night people
came
up to our house in cars, shouting obscenities, cheering the fact
that
I had been defeated,"  Pepper recalls.  "They wanted to destroy me,
and just about did."

(Pepper is not a man to carry a grudge, but it was not until last
year
that he fully forgave Smathers.  When an aide suggested asking
Smathers' law firm for a campaign contribution, Pepper reluctantly
agreed and was surprised when he got a $350 check in reply.
Shortly
thereafter, Pepper walked up to Smathers, who was lunching in the
House dining room, and said without smiling:  "You know that check
you
sent in for my campaign?  Well,l it bounced."  It had not, of
course,
and when Smathers realized that Pepper was joking, both knew that
their enmity was over.)

Once again, Pepper returned to his law practice.  He tried a
senatorial comeback in 1958, but was beaten in the Democratic
primary.
By 1962 he was earning more than $150,000 a year, representing
mainly
corporate clients.  But when a new Miami congressional district was
created that year, he jumped back into the political swim.  He
missed
politics, and Mildred missed the capital's social whirl.  Says
Brother
Joe, 73, about Claude's law practice:  "he was very successful.
But
he was miserable, just plain miserable."

Pepper did not consider it demeaning to step down from Senator to
Congressman, although he concedes that "most people go the other
way."
If he had somehow stayed in the Senate, he figures he would have
become chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee and might
have would up serving longer than anyone else.  "But that committee
doesn't save many souls," he adds.  "I know I'm doing more good
now."

At a Veterans Administration hospital in Miami, a patient in a
wheelchair watches Pepper greeting the bedridden and says:  "I'm
a
Republica.  But I always vote for Senator Pepper.  He doesn't care
if
you're an old Republican or an old Democrat.  Just so you're old."

Pepper is far from a one-issue legislator.  In 1945 he sponsored
a
resolution that led to the creation of the World Health
Organization
and, in the late '40's, bills establishing five of the National
Institutes of Health.  Not only does he favor a freeze on nuclear
arms
now, but he advocated one after the end of World War II.  Still,
nothing offends his sense of justice quite as much as modern
society's
tendency to view the elderly as a burden or a stereotyped group.
He
does not feel complimented when someone tells him:  "My, you don't
look your age."  Inwardly, he grumps, "How am I expected to look?
Toothless and doddering, a caricature of my younger self?"  Pepper
assails "ageism" as "just as wrong as racism or sexism."

At a recent Miami dinner in his honor, Pepper spoke eloquently
about
growing older.  "The aging process is so slow, so gradual, that all
you notice is a slight diminishing of some of your faculties,"  he
said solemnly.  what the elderly want is "to be thought of as just
other people.  They need love.  They need compassion."  He concedes
that attitudes toward the aging are improving and predicts that
this
will get much better when, as demographers predict, the elderly
constitute an even larger share of the nation's population.

If Pepper could wave "a legislative wand," he says he would "enact
a
Medicare bill under which the entire cost would be borne by the
Government instead of just the 45% now."  He would provide home
health
care, claiming that it would often save the Government the higher
cost
of putting people who need not be there in hospitals.  And he would
provide more preventive health coverage, in hopes of checking
illness
and prolonging life.  Overall, Pepper is optimistic, even without
his
wand, because he feels that pressure is growing on the
Administration
to stop cutting social a programs.  "The Reagan era will come to
an
end.  already we're moving toward compassion in Government again."

When Pepper's admirers worry about his advancing years and long he
expects to be on Capitol Hill, he sometimes admits that he has
retirement plans.  "I've set the year," he drawls.  As his
listeners'
concern grows, he adds without a smile:  "The year 2000.  But I
reserve the right to change my mind."

In fact, Pepper has big plans for next year.  He intends to lead
a
drive to elect some 500 delegates who are at least 65 years old to
the
1984 Democratic National Convention.  That would be about 12% of
the
total, and he wants to use their leverage to influence the choice
of a
nominee and the candidates' stand on issues dear to the elderly.

Already, the contenders for the nomination are seeking Pepper's
support.  Senator Alan Cranston  has even listed Pepper as a
possible
running mate if the Californian were to succeed in his long-shot
pursuit of the nomination.  Such a Democratic ticket, with a
combined
age of 154 at election time, would accomplish the impossible: it
would
make a Republic team of Reagan and Vice President  George Bush
(combined age 133) look young.

Some of Pepper's most avid fans even urge him to run for President.

He clearly considers himself just as physically fit as, and more
capable than the present occupant of the Oval Office.  Claims
Pepper
about 1984:  "I'll be better able to throw my hat in the ring at
83
than Ronald Reagan will be a 73."  In less quixotic moments, Pepper
admits that he is, at best, suited to the No. 2 spot.  "It's easy
to
replace a Vice President," he says, in a rare recognition of his
own
mortality.

At an age when most people are savoring old memories, Claude Pepper
never looks back.  His latest legislative proposal is to create a
House Committee on the Future of the U.S.  He, of course, would
like
to stick around to help shape its vision, and to seek that the
recommendations are carried out.  In the meantime, he plans to lead
his graying army to greater triumphs--and to keep bugging Ronald
Reagan.

An elderly woman spots Pepper on a Miami sidewalk and throws her
arms
around his neck.  "I just want to thank you," she says, "for what
you
are doing for us."

--By Ed Magnuson.  Reported by Hays Gorey/Washington

Balancing Act

Everyone agreed that something had to be done.  Otherwise, Social
Security's main retirement fund would have slid into the red by
July.
But there are few more politically volatile issues than whether to
restore the system to solvency by raising more revenues or by
reducing
benefits.  After wrestling with the problem for a year, a
bipartisan
commission headed by Economist Alan Greenspan recommended a mixture
that leans more heavily on new revenues than on benefit cuts.
Passed
overwhelmingly by congress, the plan represents a victory for
Claude
Pepper and others who opposed shrinking the system.  It major
provisions:

> Increases in the payroll tax will be accelerated, netting some
$39.4
billion in added revenue by 1990.  At present, employers and
employees
each ante up 6.7% of salary; the figure for employers will reach
7%
next year, 7.05% for both in 1985, 7.15% in 1986, 7.51% in 1988 and
7.65% in 1990.  The tax is currently applied to a maximum pay of
$35,700, but his ceiling will rise as the average national wage
increases, as under the present law.

> Self-employed people will have to pay Social Security tax equal
to
100% of the total pay by employers and employees; they now pay only
70%.

> Taxes will have to be paid on a portion of the Social Security
benefits of anyone whose income plus one-half of their pension
exceeds
$25,000 a year.  For married couples filing jointly, the base
amount
will be $32,000.

> For the first time, all federal employees who join the Government
after Jan. 1, 1984, will be covered by Social Security, expanding
the
system's base and revenues.  Employees of non-profit organizations
will also be forced into the system.  Employees of state or local
governments now covered can no longer withdraw.

> Early retirement will still be permitted at 62, but benefits,
currently 80% of the full pension paid at 65, will drop to 75% in
the year 2009 and 70% in 2027.

> The retirement age for full benefits will increase from 65 to 66
between 2003 and 2009 and then to 67 between 2021 and 2027.

> The next cost of living adjustment for those now receiving
benefits
will be delayed from July to next January.  The change will  be
calculated each January thereafter, based on fluctuations in the
Consumer Price Index.

> The bonus that workers over 65 get for delaying their retirement,
which is now 3% of benefits for each year's delay, will gradually
increase to 8% between 1990 and 2008.  The maximum delay is five
years.