My friendship with Bill Rusher seemed unlikely. It began as a formality. I was Rick Brookhiser’s girlfriend (later wife), he was Rick’s publisher at National Review. Beyond that, we seemed to have little in common. I am a psychoanalyst, whose politics incline liberal. He was a professional conservative partisan: founder of the Draft Goldwater movement, debater on a TV show called The Advocates, author of a book entitled How to Win Arguments. How could I get through to such a person?
But over time, we found we had more and more things in common. He was hospitable: He enjoyed taking Rick and me to dinner at the fine restaurants where he was a regular. In return, I made dinners for the three of us at our apartment. He would always bring the wine and explain it. When he planned to bring a Sauternes, he told me not to make a dessert with chocolate because the two do not mix. On another evening, he brought vintage port, in honor of the fact that both Rick and I were born in good port years.





Comments