"Well," he replied, "my family is divided on the question. My son wants me to run, and my wife doesn't. But do you realize, Bill" -- and now his eyes were very serious -- "if I were elected to the Senate, I could never play Macbeth again?" At that, I stopped urging him to run. If the acting profession meant as much to him as it clearly did, I didn't want to have even a small part in dissuading him from it.
Several years ago, Heston detected the early signs of Alzheimer's disease. He met the challenge with quiet courage. If it came, so be it. If it didn't (and the signs were unclear), he would go on as long as the Lord allowed. In the last letter he was ever able to write me, he typically quoted Shakespeare: "All may be well."
But all was not well. And now he has died, with the lovely Lydia, his wife of 64 years, at his side. He loved his family, his profession and his country. And he is mourned by the many, many people who loved him.
William Rusher is a Distinguished Fellow of the Claremont Institute for the Study of Statesmanship and Political Philosophy and author of How to Win Arguments .
Be the first to read William Rusher's column. Sign up today and receive Townhall.com delivered each morning to your inbox.