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| Fri, Nov. 21, 2008 | ||
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Memories of William F. Buckley Jr. Sunday, Mar 2, 2008 By David Sanders When William F. Buckley Jr. lived, he lived well. His death Tuesday night affords the rest of us the opportunity to apply life's measuring stick to calculate his effect on the world he called home for 82 years. For most of us that measurement would be expressed in inches, feet or, if we are lucky, perhaps in yards. Mr. Buckley's life can only be measured in miles. The world he entered and lived as a young man was much different from the one he left. There was no place for the modern American conservative in the 1950s; the intellectual underpinnings that many of us hang our hats on today had not been expressed. Mr. Buckley single-handedly changed that. He was a builder and a visionary who, in the early years, ran headstrong against the prevailing currents. He was a leader whose weighty reasoning manifest in the pages of "National Review" - the conservative journal he founded - inspired others who recognized what he was doing to join him. His conservative movement grew from a small handful of intellectuals and would later include more popular names like Goldwater and Reagan. Together they transformed the small, provincial and liberal Republican Party into a broad-based conservative political party, which took on Mr. Buckley's penchant for swimming upstream. Like so many conservatives my age, as a child I learned from Mr. Buckley, watching him spar with guests on his "Firing Line" television show. During my early teenage years, "National Review" exposed me to the mechanics and application of the conservative mind. But, there was more to Mr. Buckley than the weight of his ideas expressed in books, magazines, politics and speeches. He was a gentleman in the truest sense. Those who knew him best have always remarked about his patience, kindheartedness and grace. On a spring day nearly two years ago, I was fortunate enough to be on the receiving end of the kindness so many of his friends cherished. Mr. Buckley was in Little Rock for the city's literary festival. I had called his office a week before hoping to score a few minutes with him. As luck would have it, the only window of time for me was the drive to the airport. After picking him up from his hotel we set off. He was quick to make conversation, recognizing that his driver needed to be put at ease; chauffeuring the father of American conservatism wasn't an everyday occurrence. With both hands on the steering wheel and my recorder going, I found myself responding to his questions about my writing, politics and family. Before I knew it, we were rounding the drive leading to the airport. That would be the end of it and I hadn't even scratched the surface, but, much to my surprise, Mr. Buckley asked me to join him inside for lunch. A quiet corner in the bustling cafe seemed an obvious choice. We soon found ourselves chatting over a couple of sandwiches and drinks. Our conversation turned to the changes in the modern political landscape over the past 50 years, which had come to reflect his conservatism. "Dogmatic socialism is exhausted; it didn't make it and that happened in the last 50 years," he said. Years ago, there were a lot of very bright people who were simply socialist, but they were hit with reality. "At the spiritual level, I think that the advances that were thought predictable in the 1950s that would discredit Christian thought didn't happen. The Christian communion is stronger than it was back in the 1950s. That's pretty heartening," he said. "Obviously, you can go on from there and make subdefinitions almost infinitely. On the other hand, state welfarism continues to be very strong. People don't worry about it," he cautioned. "That's one we haven't won." I knew that my two hours with him would be counted among some of the most cherished of my life. Listening back over our conversations numerous times - I recorded everything - I find myself most amazed by the small things, like the warmth he showed to the baggage handlers, the young lady at the ticket counter and our waiter. Then there was the chauffeur and lunch companion; he'd treated me like an old friend. Thank you Mr. Buckley. Thank you for everything. ------- David Sanders writes twice weekly for the Arkansas News Bureau in Little Rock and is a host of the Arkansas Education Television Network's "Unconventional Wisdom." His e-mail address is DavidJSanders@aol.com. |