What William F. Buckley meant to me

As has often happened in my life, I have been left mourn a man I have never met: National Review founder William F. Buckley.  The folks at the Corner are – as one would expect – both deeply shaken up and full of tales remembering this remarkable man and his life.

For most of us who were outside the NR family, WFB affected us largely in an indirect manner.  For me, however, the effect was deeply profound.

My first political campaign (the one to which I first really paid attention) was the Presidential campaign of 1988.  I was an anti-Communist, pro-life “conservative,” but in reality I hardly knew what that meant.  As much as I knew, I still felt largely ignorant; even worse, relying largely on MSM, I had the sense that the intellectual heft was on the other side.

Then, about a month before the election, a friend of mine (John McNulty, for which I will be eternally grateful) handed me a copy of National Review.  It was the first time I had ever seen the magazine.  Frankly, it was my first exposure to right-wing scholarly writing of any form – George Will, who at best was imperfect anyhow, and Bob Novak were not on the op-ed pages of the Newark (NJ) Star-Ledger.  I put my chicken-scratch on a subscription from within minutes.

The first issue came in the mail just before Christmas.  I would bring it to school and sneak in reads before Orchestra, between classes, and any other chance I could.  I read a stunning piece in January 1989 predicting the fall of Communism in Europe.  I read about how free markets can protect the environment in a way no regulations ever could (you have no idea how valuable this was during the hideous “Earth Day” relaunch in 1990).  I learned more about economics from NR than I did from my high-school – which established a pattern for me that ensured I would never – ever – stop trying to learn.

It also convinced me to give writing a shot – which inexorably and inevitably led to the posts I inflict upon my readership every day.

Most of all, though, Bill Buckley’s creation gave me something I never had before (and most right-wingers desperately need at some point) confidence.  At a time when Republicans and conservatives seemed in decline (1989-1993), NR gave me (and millions of others) hope that future Americans would see the errors of the present and correct them.  It gave me the feeling that I had the political and philosophical tools to advance my views.  In short, Bill Buckley literally gave me the courage of my convictions.

I’m sure there are millionsof self-described conservatives who feel the same way about the man they never met, and are mourning him as I am.

Mr, Buckley, thank you - thank you from the bottom of my heart – and rest in peace.