RIP, William F. Buckley, Jr.

As a little kid in the late 1970s, I will always remember the time I was surfing our four channels, and I checked what was on PBS (probably hoping it would be Sesame Street). Instead of Big Bird, the show that was on was called Firing Line, and on the screen was a rather disheveled looking man who was talking with an accent that to my young ears, sort of sounded British... but not quite. I remember asking my mother who this guy was, and she told me his name was William Buckley. I asked her if he was from England, and she said, "No, he's from New England." At the time, I don't think I knew where New England was located, so I was just further confused about the way this man spoke.

Years later, I would purchase a subscription to National Review, and I am the better informed because of it. I have William Buckley to thank for his overwhelming influence; not only on my politics but on the body politic of this nation.

For more tributes to this great man, the obvious place to visit is National Review Online.

Good Day to You, Sir