Though we had communicated almost daily via instant message, email, and telephone since my move across the country to North Carolina, this was the first time Andrew Breitbart and I had seen one another in almost nine months.
The occasion was training for the about-to-launch Breitbart News 2.0 (the platform you’re reading this article on) and that meant a two-day trip back to Los Angeles, which I almost didn't make due to the flu.
Once training was over and things wound down, Andrew came up to me out of the blue and said, "Let's take a walk." And for over an hour, we walked through the neighborhood around the office and had one of those great Andrew talks (those who knew Andrew know exactly what that means).
I grew up in the Midwest, which means we don't talk about stuff or make friends easily. Andrew was the polar opposite of that. He made hundreds of friends, talked about absolutely everything, and few things were as important to him as his relationships with others.
There was no tension or distance between us, but because it had been so long, Andrew still wanted to box the compass of our relationship--as his employee and friend. It was a marvelous, and at times intimate, conversation, the kind guys like me would never instigate on our own.
Because of that talk, when Andrew died two days later, I was left with the life-long peace of mind of not having to regret the unspoken.
What a gift.
My priest once described sin as: "Anything that damages your relationship with others, or with God."
If my priest is correct, and I think he probably is, the proudly agnostic Andrew Breitbart was one of the least sinful people I knew.