A Year Without Andrew

A year ago today, about 7:50 AM MT. I was sitting in my car, in front of my son’s school, waiting to stand in line with him. It’s a nice place, one that welcomes parents in line to say the Pledge of Allegiance and the Lord’s Prayer. The early arrival gave me enough time to check my Twitter feed.

And in a few seconds, I was floored. Because it was clear that Andrew Breitbart had died.
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I followed Andrew on Twitter…well, mostly. His was the first account that I ever invoked the “block retweets” capability in Twitter. Because Andrew was a prolific re-tweeter of all of the vitriol he received, and of some epic takedowns of random jobbers and media blowhards.

I watched his speeches, most of all because he got it. That fighting for a handful of votes in Washington pales in comparison to the greater fight, over our culture. That cowering in our beliefs is a sure way to defeat in that lesser battle. And his humor, his in-your-face approach in dealing with the self-described arbiters of truth, that captured me.

And I sat down to read Righteous Indignation. A really wonderful tale of how a man found conservatism in the front seat of a delivery car. How making the countercultural choice in a liberal hotbed could only be conservatism.

I cried that morning, reading that Twitter stream. Said a prayer for Andrew, for his wife, his kids – we’re about the same age, so I felt a simpatico with him. Said a prayer for us, those who had lost his burning flame at the tip of the spear. Joined in the #DJBreitbart effort on Twitter. And prayed that I could raise my voice with one-fifth the strength of Andrew.

I never met you in person, but I miss you so much.

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