Posted on 02/21/2021 4:00:18 AM PST by Kaslin
I don’t normally struggle when writing a column. I just have thoughts in my head and type them out. This is different because I’ve never had to write a column about a friend who died, let alone a friend I’ve never met. But that’s who Rush Limbaugh was to me and millions more.
I never met Rush. I wish I had, and in the “six degrees of Kevin Bacon” world I was one degree away through four friends, but I never pressed the issue because it felt inappropriate to exploit a friendship for a fanboy moment.
Plus, I didn’t want to intrude. I knew Rush already. I’ve been a listener since I first heard him while I was driving around Michigan with my dad. I’ve taken more road trips with Rush than I have with friends I’ve known since high school. Rush went with me to job interviews, waiting in the car to distract me when I left disappointed. He was there throughout college, before and after classes and, more often than not, distracting me in those classes by what he said right before I went in. He, along with my cats, kept me company on my drive from Detroit to Washington, when I was terrified to move there for my first job after college.
Talk radio breeds that level of intimacy. When done well, that voice coming from your speakers is talking to only you, even when there are tens of millions of “yous” listening. And Rush did it better than anyone.
I never met him, but he helped shape who I am. Only my family had more of a hand in shaping how I think.
His show comes on right after mine. I say goodbye and wait to hear him.
I knew he wasn’t doing well. Because I’d known him for so long, there were a few reasons I suspected things had taken a turn for the worst. When I heard his wife’s voice at the start of Wednesday’s show, I immediately knew. Kathryn Limbaugh’s voice was so strong, I didn’t get emotional listening to her – I held it together because she was. Then the music started.
The opening bars of “My City Was Gone” got me. It was never a song, even though it is a great Pretenders song, it was always Rush Limbaugh’s theme. His voice was not going to be there when it was over, not live anyway. I was alone in my office and it hit me.
I’d heard that song one time on the business end of headphones, sitting in front of a microphone knowing everyone waiting for his voice would hear mine. I was lucky enough to fill-in for Rush once, the day after Thanksgiving last year. It was my greatest professional thrill, by a longshot. I heard from people I hadn’t heard from in years and many more I’ve never known. It was amazing how many people sent me notes from one show, a day on which most people aren’t working or, thanks to the pandemic, driving either. I didn’t give out my email address on the air, they just sought it out and contacted me. Old friends and complete strangers from places I’ve never been sent me really nice emails about what I talked about, asides and tangents I went off on, everything imaginable. Imagine that tens of millions of time over. That was Rush’s life.
When he died, the left did what they did while he was alive – they attacked him. For every glowing remembrance of him written, there were fifteen written from nothing but unadulterated hatred.
Normally, when someone famous passes I would consume as much of both as I could get my hands on. This time I didn’t want to see any of either. I didn’t want my thoughts polluted by someone else’s, and I didn’t want to get angry by the hate. My memories of Rush are mine. I didn’t need to be reminded of what I remember, nor did I really want to be inundated with bile while everything was so fresh.
As for the hate, what I saw on Twitter was enough. It was predictable and gross. It’s what the left is. Rush was perhaps the most lied about person in American history, with the possible exception of Ronald Reagan. People who never listened to him quoting hearsay written by people whose jobs it was to listen to him for the express purpose of destroying him. Imagine having that job. How worthless do you have to be to take a job trying to get someone else fired? They’re the original “Karens,” angry because their parents didn’t love them or they’ve never kissed a girl.
Whatever it was, Rush not only created the industry he dominated, he dominated an industry he inspired the creation of: left-wing hall monitors hell-bent on ruining anyone who disagrees with them politically. They had to lie about him to do their jobs, and they failed.
They hated him because they could never beat him. Not many people can say they changed the world, and fewer still can say they changed it for the better. Rush can. They can’t. They can’t say they mattered because they didn’t. They spent their lives screaming into an echo chamber of people who never listened about how Rush drove division in the country.
Rush did not “divide the nation.” He finally gave a voice to the half of the nation the left-wing establishment class loved to ignore and told to shut up anytime we spoke. That’s why they hated him so much. We weren’t supposed to have a voice. We were supposed to know our place.
Rush Limbaugh stood up to them for us and suffered the attacks anyone who challenges the established order suffers. He did it with a smile and a laugh, always a laugh. He was damn funny, and quick. Liberals couldn’t catch him, they couldn’t understand him, and they couldn’t keep up. Rush won. And because Rush won, we all won.
Rush may be gone, but Rush Limbaugh is still with us, with all of us. His voice resonates in ours the way ours will hopefully resonate in that of those who come after us. While we likely won’t have that impact on tens of millions of people like he did, if tens of millions of us have that impact on one or two people we’ll keep not only his legacy alive, we’ll win too. Thanks for everything, Rush. Well done, sir.
Dittos.
Nice, thanks for posting.
Mega MAGA dittos
I can’t stop thinking about how much I’ll miss him. He spent 3 hours a day with me for almost half my life.
Let me begin by saying I’m not a huge Derek Hunter fan. We share a biography, both being from Detroit and living in Maryland.
I listen to his show frequently and while very good, for reasons unknown to me, I prefer other hosts. As I travel north or south of Baltimore, I seek out the alternatives.
That said, I felt his pride and awe when he sat in for Rush.
This column in spot on. If you’re reading Derek. Well done.
We are Rush and Rush is us.
Me too. I’ve been a fan since his first day of national radio. Literally his first minute.
Think about this. The Rush Limbaugh Show held the number one spot for 30% of the time RADIO has existed.
I first encountered Rush one day in his first week of the national show. I had picked up some lunch at a hamburger chain coincidentally called Rush’s. They’ve been a fixture in Columbia SC since 1944.
I was immediately hooked, and began taping the show on cassettes so I could hear the entire show every day.
I bought my first VCR because Rush was going to be on the Pat Sajak show. I was terrified I’d miss it.
Many years later it seemed Rush had changed. He pretended to be obtuse about several callers, acting like he took them literally instead of what they really meant. I told myself I was going to stop listening. But later that day I said I’ve been listening to Rush for decades and he has more than earned the benefit of the doubt. I was going to give him another chance. The next day, Rush revealed he was completely deaf and was reading what callers said from transcripts. OF COURSE he took the callers literally. He couldn’t hear the tones of their voices.
His death hit me hard. I burst out bawling many times that day. I’ve only reacted like this to the deaths of my parents. The void will not be filled.
Feel the same way about Derek (something is always missing) but in this column he did well.
In the early 1990’s I was at work and had Rush on at my desk. An out of town co-worker came into my office and heard the radio. He told me that his best friend was one of Rush’s producers. (I don’t remember who. Maybe Kit Carson)
I said Prove it. Get me an autographed photo of Rush.
He picked up the phone and a few days later, a Fed Ex package arrived.
I think I’ll go dig through some boxes after church and see if I can find it.
Awesome. Treasure that picture.
Avid listener here, too, from '88 or '89, and lucky enough to be able to listen live while working, and to replays on the weekend courtesy of our local station. No kids, so I have spent more time - much more time - with my friend, The Big Voice on the Right, than anyone in the world other than the other half, who is darn near as much a fan. It is going to be tough to cope with the crap going on without his support, or, as I call it, his "friendship."
Jesse Waters had a nice tribute to Rush on his show last night.
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