Common Ground: USS IOWA SSN-797

Note: Most people associate a boat christening with a woman and broken bottle of champagne. That would be me on Jun 17, 2022. But the story of a boat sponsor christening a Navy vessel is about a special long-time relationship between a woman chosen by the Navy to care for the crew and families of for the rest of her life. The officers, crew and families of the USS Iowa SSN-797 refer to me as the “mom of the boat”. What follows are the remarks I made at the christening. I hope my stories will help you understand why I was chosen and what the honor means to me. On April 5, 2025, I will be charged with “bringing the submarine to life.”

---

Christie Vilsack christening the USS IOWA SSN-797 on June 17, 2022.

Christening Keynote

Some Iowa history books translate the Ioway Indian word IOWA as ‘beautiful land”. Others say it means, “the land between two rivers”.

Raygun, a well-known Des Moines t-shirt shop produced a t-shirt that says, Iowa, 75% vowels, 100% awesome.

My favorite Iowa song was written by Iowa composer Meredith Willson of Music Man fame and sung to troops during WWII by Bing Crosby. It begins; “Iowa, it’s a beautiful name when you say it like we say it back home. It’s the robins in the tree-tops, it’s the postmaster’s friendly hello.” Sentimental, for sure, but it speaks to what we call, “Iowa Nice”, a commitment to common decency and a friendly demeanor honed by hundreds of years of living close to our neighbors in small, often remote, communities.

President George W. Bush got it right when he said to me one day, “You know, Iowans are always nice to you even if they don’t like you.”

There are 250 towns in Iowa with less than 150 people, the approximate number of sailors aboard this submarine. I’ve climbed all over this boat and there’s not much elbow room. It’s a lot like living in small-town Iowa. Everyone knows your business. You must get along to survive. Out of necessity you build a tolerance for the idiosyncrasies of your neighbors and learn a healthy respect for their special talents. Call it a survival tactic. Call it Iowa Nice. I call it home.

I am honored to be the sponsor of the USS Iowa SSN-797 that we will christen today. I want to thank former Navy Secretary Ray Mabus for giving me the opportunity to serve my country and the Navy in this way. I accept responsibility for the crew, the officers, and their families for the rest of my life.

It is the tradition of the Navy to honor a woman as sponsor. I’ve been interacting with the crew and their families since 2015, attending picnics here in Groton, gifting books about Iowa to new babies. Clapping virtually when crew members earn their dolphins.

It is also a tradition for the sponsor to choose a successor, and I have asked our granddaughter Caroline to carry on when I am no longer able. Her sister Amelia and her cousin Ana are too young to agree to sponsorship, but I imagine they’ll be willing to help as they get older and understand the responsibility.

As the sponsor of the first nuclear submarine built to accommodate women, I would like to note that the world has changed since the first female sponsor was honored by the Navy in 1846, the same year that Iowa became a state. Therefore, I hope grandson Jake who is interested in military history and grandson Cassin, who is named for Congressional Medal of Honor recipient Cassin Young, will also commit to supporting their sisters and the submarine until it is no longer in service.

You’ll hear me talk about families today—mine and yours--especially the children, because the purpose of this submarine is to keep them safe so they may experience the freedoms my generation has enjoyed thanks to the sacrifices made by those who came before us.

This fast-attack nuclear submarine is the 4^th Navy vessel named for our state, including the mightiest battleship of WWII, USS Iowa BB-61, now a museum in the Port of Los Angeles. As a sponsor, I follow in the footsteps of Iowan, Iola Wallace, wife of Vice President Henry Wallace, who, like my husband, Tom also served as Secretary of Agriculture.

I wouldn’t be here today if I hadn’t had the good sense to fall in love with Tom Vilsack from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Thanks for an amazing 50 years! I also had the good sense to convince him to come home with me to Iowa to live, work and raise our two sons, Jess and Doug. Jess and Kate live next door to us in rural Iowa, and Doug and Janet live in Denver. Thanks to my family for taking time to join us today.

Thanks to fellow Iowa teacher, Kelly Sullivan, sponsor of USS The Sullivans DDG-68, a ship to honor the 5 Sullivan brothers, including her grandfather, who were all killed at sea in World War II aboard the USS Juneau. She has been a great mentor and friend.

Thanks to the policymakers and military leaders who have worked together to set our foreign policy priorities for defense, diplomacy, and development to assure our safety and economic prosperity.

Thanks to my Missouri cousins for coming to honor their dad who served in the Navy in WWII. Thanks to Tom’s cousins whose father, Charlie Young, commanded the 2^nd nuclear submarine, the USS Thomas Edison. This isn’t their first christening! And thanks to former Marine Bill Henninger from Pittsburgh.

In a way it’s fitting that I stand here today on Father’s Day Weekend. During WWII my dad flew PBY’s and PBM’s with his squadron out of Norfolk, VA. On Saturday mornings when our boys were growing up, he’d stop by for coffee, and he’d tell stories about the Navy and the camaraderie of the men in his squadron.

Dad rarely saw these men after the war, but he made them come alive for me in his stories. Carkhoff from Wisconsin sent us cheese. Sneed was a Virginia tobacco farmer. Darst was a descendant of a man whose name is written on the wall of the Alamo. My dad, who’d never known anyone Jewish, stood up Mike Falk of Philadelphia when he didn’t get the promotion he deserved. Dad was best man at Pete Pederson’s wedding and attended his 50^th wedding anniversary in California.

I’m not sure how many times I’ve heard the story of the appearance of the USS Iowa in the harbor at the Norfolk Naval Station after it’s “shakedown cruise”. I’m glad he eventually wrote the story in a letter to a Norfolk official in 1985. It said, “We would taxi by the USS Iowa when we were positioning for takeoff for patrol flights on anti-submarine patrol in the coastal battle of the Atlantic. It had been there for about two weeks, and we always speculated as to what it was doing there so long. My flight log would indicate it was November 27, 1943.”

A Commodore appeared at that morning’s briefing. He said, “Gentlemen, I have a very important mission for you this morning. The Battleship Iowa with the President of the United State aboard left X-ray Sugar at 0:600. Get with her and stay with her until dark.”

My dad said it was almost unheard of for the President of the United State to leave the country during war time. Later he learned that FDR was on his way to meet Churchill and Stalin in Tehran.

So here I am, the Naval aviator’s daughter, ready to christen the next USS-Iowa with his great grandchildren to help me. How cool is that?

Experiences become stories. Stories create relationships. Relationships build trust. Trust creates competence. Competence keeps us safe. Building relationships is just as important in keeping us safe as building submarines.

To the builders: the welders and the electricians, the engineers, the executives of General Dynamics Electric Boat in Groton and Huntington Ingalls industries in Newport News. This submarine is mighty and strong, the best in the world. Thanks for your many talents. Please share your stories of building this masterpiece of technology with your children and grandchildren. You deserve to feel proud. They deserve to be proud of you.

Captain Powell and my Iowa crew: There is so much about your missions that you won’t be able to talk about with us now or maybe ever, but promise me you’ll share with the people you love, the stories of the friendships you develop as Navy submariners. You can take a lesson from the retired Iowa submariners on the Commissioning Committee, who are master storytellers. I guarantee your stories will outlive you.

Because my father flew with men from so many different cultures and regions, he came back to small-town Iowa a different person--more tolerant and more open to new and different ideas. For that reason, he insisted that I too travel outside my state and country to expand my worldview. It was the best advice he ever gave me.

I thought of this when I got an email from Tom’s cousin, Navy pilot retired, Cassin Young, who is in the audience today. He’s a graduate of the Naval Academy like his father and grandfather. He asked if he could invite his long-time friend from their time at Annapolis, Wally Poleshay, the son of Ukrainian immigrants who lives in Bettendorf, Iowa.

Since we laid the keel 4 years ago, the Iowa Commissioning Committee, led by Doug McCrea, has brought more than half the crew to Iowa. I learned to use a chainsaw while we cleared debris after the Derecho. We’ve met up during RAGBRAI, flipped pork chops at the State Fair and traveled the state talking with students about STEM jobs and answering their questions about living on a submarine. “How long can a nuclear submarine stay down?” the kids always ask. ‘Thirty years or until we run out of food,” the sailors always answer. Iowans have opened their homes to crew members for Thanksgiving dinner. They’ve taken them to town festivals, sporting events, museums, and the Capitol.

Before today’s christening, the crew anointed the sub with waters we gathered and mixed from Iowa rivers. That’s even better than champagne. Let me close with this refrain from the Gospel Song River of Jordan which speaks to this moment.

There is only one river

There is only one sea

And it flows through you and it flows through me

There is only one people

We are one and the same

We are all one spirit

We are all one name

We are all the father

Mother, daughter, and son

From the dawn of creation

We are one.

Fellow Iowans: For these men and women to successfully complete their missions in close quarters and dangerous waters, we need to make their work our work. As we all go about our daily lives, please keep them and their families in your thoughts and prayers. Thank you.