The gift

National Review, March 24, 2008 by Danillo Petronovich

WILLIAM F. BUCKLEY JR. worked hard to the end. The legendary playfulness and wit continued to exhilarate. His magnanimity towered as ever.

I had the great fortune to work closely with Bill on his last two projects. Over the summer, he decided to write a book on Ronald Reagan. We were to begin immediately, but the lion's share of writing was to be done during December and January at an exquisite beach cottage in Florida.

Bill insisted I arrive in Fort Lauderdale a couple of days early to set up our office. He could not bear to waste time. We dug in his first day there--research and reading in the morning, then lunch, a writing session in the afternoon, followed by the cocktail hour.

That cocktail hour was a time to unwind and reflect. Bill wanted everyone who knew him to experience the wonders of the music he loved, and of the nearly 200 discs he brought, there was a clear favorite: Bach's Goldberg Variations.

On December 12 I turned 30. Bill arranged for a yacht to take us along the coast so that we could see Christmas lights. During the cruise, a nice lady came up to me and whispered, "Is he a senator?" Bill heard this, turned to her, smiled mischievously, and said: "I am a rock star."

I first met Bill Buckley almost five years ago, when I was invited to sail with him and two Yalies aboard the Patito. "I am so glad your first sail will be on the Patito," he said as we warmed up with a Kir and a Bloody Mary. We played word games, told jokes, ate marvelously, and confronted permanent questions. Quickly grasping that my passion was political philosophy, Bill turned the conversation to Aristotle, and the good life. I knew something about the former, but not nearly as much about the latter as my companion that evening.

Over the last seven months, we saw or talked to each another almost every day. I learned a lot more about politics, and writing, and printers and keyboards and WordStar. I also met a great man, and made a great friend. Ours was a joyful experience, and I will always be grateful to the Lord God for intertwining our lives.

Mr. Petronovich teaches at Yale University.