Every night we spend on this earth is a gift from God. But some nights are more special than others. Among the more special nights in my life are those spent in the company of Dave Keene, a friend and colleague of many years.
Dave and I would visit, of course, during meetings of the NRA Board of Directors, where we both served for several years; those days were capped off usually by a good dinner, a cigar, and a bit of bourbon. They were the high points of whatever events had brought us together.
But nights (and days) spent with Dave at his cabin on the banks of a tributary of the Missouri River (I think) were the truly special times.
Dave was an avid and expert fly fisherman, and his cabin in Montana was the perfect venue from which he would enjoy this avocation. I was anything but an expert fly fisherman; most probably the worst Dave had ever tried to instruct. Whenever we headed out in his flatboat, usually in the early morning but sometimes late afternoon, Dave would patiently instruct me on the mechanics of fly fishing. He then would spend the next several hours tying replacement flies on my fishing line, as I would invariably lose the last one in the tree branches on the riverbank. No matter. The hours lazily drifting down the river provided the perfect opportunity for me to pepper Dave with questions about everything from current political goings on, to his work at the epicenter of the birth of the modern conservative movement in the 1960s (Dave was but a few years older than I, so I was familiar with the cast of characters about whom he would speak).
His having to frequently tie a new fly on my line never caused him to complain or to skip a beat in his storytelling. Later, over dinner and the requisite post-dinner cigar, I would ask more questions and learn more.
And the stories Dave would tell were truly fascinating, with a dose of history and a touch of humor. Importantly, even when recounting a run-in with a liberal adversary, Dave never reverted to the name-calling and vituperation that characterizes so much of modern politics.
Several years ago, I had an even more splendid occasion in which to visit with Dave. I forget the precise genesis of the invitation, but it brought us together (along with fellow conservative leader Grover Norquist and others) in Argentina. On this particular excursion, we were hunting doves with shotguns supplied by our hosts at the lodge somewhere in the beautiful Argentine countryside.
Being captive with Dave for several days in a foreign land and on a farm far from the city lights offered immeasurable time to visit and talk politics, history, and personalities. Grover – a conservative heavyweight in his own right – provided me with a double opportunity to listen and learn. As always in sessions involving Dave Keene, such gatherings were never bereft of humor and goodwill despite the serious nature of most subjects discussed.
It was this innate ability that Dave Keene possessed – knowledge born of having been there and understanding the world around him, but with an ever-present patina of humor – that I will most miss. Good friends who know that about which they speak are the joy of knowing someone like Dave.
There just are not enough Dave Keenes in today’s world. I was fortunate enough to have known the genuine article.
Bob Barr represented Georgia’s Seventh District in the U.S. House of Representatives from 1995 to 2003. He served previously as the United States Attorney in Atlanta from 1986 to 1990 and was an official with the CIA in the 1970s. He now practices law in Atlanta, Georgia, serves as head of Liberty Guard, and is the immediate past president of the National Rifle Association of America.