In 2009, I wrote the foreword to a book by Priscilla Buckley. We published it in the magazine under the title “Your Friend Priscilla.” Go here. It begins,

Some time ago, a veteran pianist taught me a saying: “You play who you are.” I have found this saying quite true, with qualifications, of course. Priscilla Buckley writes who she is. That is, her writing is graceful, lovely, intelligent, learned, amusing, assured, civilized — you get the picture. Nice picture. I might also say that her writing is lapidary. Her brother Bill liked to use that word.
One night at dinner, I heard her say, “I’m three,” whereupon Bill said, “I’m six.” Someone had asked Priscilla where she stood in their family of ten children. I had the impression they had been saying this from very early on: “I’m three.” “I’m six.”

And the final two paragraphs of that foreword:

Please allow me to include a personal note — having nothing to do with the book, but having to do with Priscilla (who has to do with the book). I count it a privilege to be associated with her, in whatever modest way. Years ago, I became managing editor of National Review, and in my office was a cabinet, with Priscilla’s name on it. “Priscilla, Odds & Ends,” said a card (I believe in her hand). Do you think I have ever let go of that cabinet? Do you think I have ever budged that card, fading as it is?
I look forward to her next book, and I have an idea — don’t know whether she is interested. Priscilla is a very keen golfer, and a very good one. At her club in Connecticut there is a Priscilla L. Buckley Trophy. She, of course, has won it. (Have you ever won your own trophy?) She could do a book about golf, relating her life with the game. For example, there was the time Harry Thaw played through — Harry Thaw, who married the “Girl in the Red Velvet Swing” and murdered Stanford White. But Priscilla can tell that story much better than I . . .

If you knew her, you loved her. It has been so good to know her.