William A. Rusher

Four score and seven years ago, a father and mother brought forth William A. Rusher. And on Saturday, April 16, he perished from the Earth. In the days between, he was one of the architects of the American Right. For 31 years, he published National Review, in the same Manhattan offices where William F. Buckley Jr. edited the conservative fortnightly. Rusher unflaggingly promoted Barry Goldwater for president in 1964. After 16 years and a new birth of freedom, Ronald Reagan rose like a phoenix from the embers of the Arizona senator’s unsuccessful bid, in no small part thanks to Bill Rusher’s labor.

While American conservatives and free-marketeers mourn the loss of one of our most dedicated and talented advocates and organizers, gentlemen and ladies of all persuasions should lament the departure of a grand old man who possessed a grace and refinement seldom seen these days. In an age when unshaven airline passengers cannot be bothered to tuck in their dirty T-shirts, Rusher’s counterexample glistened. Until he was well into his retirement, I never saw him without a tightly knotted tie that brightened a perfectly pressed and buttoned jacket. His monogrammed shirts bore his initials: WAR. His manners, dress, and demeanor were impeccable.

About the Author

Deroy Murdock

Deroy Murdock is a Manhattan-based Fox News contributor and political commentor.

Four score and seven years ago, a father and mother brought forth William A. Rusher. And on Saturday, April 16, he perished from the Earth. In the days between, he was one of the architects of the American Right. For 31 years, he published National Review, in the same Manhattan offices where William F. Buckley Jr. edited the conservative fortnightly. Rusher unflaggingly promoted Barry Goldwater for president in 1964. After 16 years and a new birth of freedom, Ronald Reagan rose like a phoenix from the embers of the Arizona senator’s unsuccessful bid, in no small part thanks to Bill Rusher’s labor.

While American conservatives and free-marketeers mourn the loss of one of our most dedicated and talented advocates and organizers, gentlemen and ladies of all persuasions should lament the departure of a grand old man who possessed a grace and refinement seldom seen these days. In an age when unshaven airline passengers cannot be bothered to tuck in their dirty T-shirts, Rusher’s counterexample glistened. Until he was well into his retirement, I never saw him without a tightly knotted tie that brightened a perfectly pressed and buttoned jacket. His monogrammed shirts bore his initials: WAR. His manners, dress, and demeanor were impeccable.