...I've read this morning, I have a Christopher Hitchens story. I met him at the Democratic National Convention in 1992, in a corridor behind the seating area for the Washington State delegation, where he was hanging out with Dick Cavett and offering a running commentary on the proceedings that far surpassed anything I saw on the networks that week.
I didn't see Cavett again that week, but Hitchens hung out nearly every day, never disappointing the line of delegates who approached in hope of a handshake and a quip, who he greeted with a level of charm and patience that belied his legendarily acid wit and formidable wrath. I later got the chance to chat with him for the best part of an hour at a party hosted by The Nation and he was, if anything, even more charming in that setting.
Sure, he went a bit nuts after 9//11, but weighing the totality of his life and work in the balance, that's just a few feathers on the scale. He was wrong about the Iraq war, but many were. He was also one of the finest writers, most eloquent oraters and sharpest wits of our time and he'll be missed.
R.I.P.
Labels: Christopher Hitchens, R.I.P.
