I had the pleasure of meeting Robert Novak at the 1984 Republican National Convention in Dallas as a just graduated college student. It was a memorable moment: a young man who loved writing and politics, meeting, out of nowhere, in a hotel parking lot, a famous man, and engaging in a casual conversation. Perhaps casual for him. Ever the journalist, he was curious, not unlike the time, I’m sure, when he asked a college girl a question that ultimately changed his life.
He wanted to know the who, why and where of “all these young people,” with a bit of bewilderment in his voice. I answered excitedly, and couldn’t wait to move past that and tell him how much I loved reading his syndicated column in my local paper.
That alone was something, but the next night, when I and some newfound friends got to, by another total happenstance, talk with him and Pat Buchanan, it was as close to Heaven as we could be, completely mesmerized as the two held court, trying to act cool talking to our new celebrity buddies, the total envy of every experienced delegate on the convention floor. Perhaps a slice of Heaven then, for us, a crew of wide-eyed college-age boys. Robert Novak, today, has the full Heavenly experience.
