The story goes that when Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s funeral procession passed by, a man in the crowd was so overwhelmed that he collapsed on the ground.
A person nearby went to his aid and asked: “Did you know Roosevelt?”
“No,” the stricken man replied. “But he knew me.'”
I heard that story told anew when Princess Diana died. “Did you know her?” “No, but she knew me.”
And I applied a personal twist in that last instance: The Princess visited, in an official act not too long before such acts ceased, the facility where a member of my family was dying of cancer. She spent far longer chatting to him than anyone expected, and after her visit, when a family member asked if there was a photograph of the encounter, a signed one was swiftly forthcoming, together with a kind note.
I didn’t know them. But they knew me.
Some people have the “gift.”
Rush had that gift. I knew it, and Mr. Right knew it too. He loved Rush, and listened, almost up until the day he died.
And less than a week before Rush himself died, another friend posted a tribute to him on another site I love, ricochet.com.
That tribute was picked up by the EIB network, and appeared this week in its copy of The Limbaugh Letter. An electronic version is posted here: https://www.thelimbaughletter.com/thelimbaughletter/march_2021/MobilePagedArticle.action?articleId=1662199#articleId1662199
My own tribute to Rush, together with a link to my friend’s tribute post published in the Limbaugh Letter, can be found here.
RIP, Rush.
