Today marks one year since I was awakened by a phone call from a friend calling to tell me that Andrew Breitbart had died at 43, far too young.
Not only had I been lucky enough to get to know Andrew over the last year of his life, he was a huge influence for so many of my friends. In this wonderful world of bloggers, tea party movement organizers, investigative journalists, and other conservative activists in which I have traveled in these past few years, Andrew was our coach, our troop leader, our favorite troublemaker...but most of all, he was our friend.
And so today, like it was last year, is tough because I am saddened by so many of the beautiful and poignant memories of Andrew shared by so many people I know (his face is a constant presence in my Facebook and Twitter feeds once again this week), but at the same time there is comfort in seeing so many people sharing a deep affection for this great man.