A Few Memories   

Regarding the death of William F. Buckley, Jr., a few observations (sorry, couldn’t resist).  They’re all personal—of his historical importance, I’ll just say that, as between him and Reagan on their importance to the good guys winning the Cold War and turning the tide against socialism-lite at home, I think it’s a close call.

1. Those whose deaths we grieve fall into three categories:  immediate family, close friends, and people we have never met.  John Donne to the contrary notwithstanding, think how few there are in that third category.  There is no one in that category whose death I expect to feel more keenly, and I think that is true of many conservatives.

2. Particularly conservatives of a certain age.  I’m 52.  For someone like me, growing up in the 1960s, Buckley was the one and only.  It is still the case that, when I write, and—especially—when I speak publicly, I think of him, and what he would do and say.  It will always be that way.

3. John Miller and I have talked about this (he’s younger than I, though, I hasten to add).  After John started to work at NR, I called him one day and asked him if he could arrange for me to meet WFB somehow.  I wanted to shake his hand before … well, before what happened today happened.  And so I did get to meet the great man and, of course, he was just as charming and gracious as everyone today says in his or her remembrance.

03/04 02:35 PM