Thanks to Katie O'Malley, I
first met Andrew Breitbart at CPAC in 2009. I was collecting post cards
for our troops and I asked Andrew if he would fill one out. At the end of
the evening Andrew handed me his handwritten post card and what he wrote
grabbed hold of this mother's heart forever. I knew what he had written
was profound and that standing in my presence was a great man, a brave
man, the George Washington of my lifetime! I felt at that moment that we
were freezing on the banks of the Delaware, the Soldiers were downtrodden
and beaten up and before me stood this man of great courage who let me
know that this battle was just beginning and he would lead us through the
icy biting waters boldly and we would win this fight! Here is what he
wrote to our troops back in 2009 at CPAC:
from the bottom of my heart for the putrid behavior of the American
media. You have exhibited heroism and they took the lowest road. I
have committed all of my resources to undo that wrong. And the mainstream
media and Hollywood will have been exposed as the traitors they are."
We lost our General on March lst
with the passing of Andrew Breitbart. We must forge on and continue in
the battle for TRUTH that Andrew so bravely and relentlessly fought!
Below is a loving and
inspiring tribute to Andrew Breitbart by Katie O'Malley, who knew him well
and loved him dearly:
I am Andrew Breitbart Now
As I write this, I find that I bounce between every stage of Kubler Ross’
stages of giref in 15 second increments. Bear with me.
Years ago, a friend of mine was listening to me noodle on a problem. She
said, “You should call my friend Andrew and talk to him. He loves to talk
about this stuff.” And so I did. At the time, he was still behind the
curtain of the burgeoning new media space and none of us knew how exactly
it would unfold and what his role would be. But everyone who spent even
two minutes talking to Andrew knew he would be a game-changer.
We talked for hours on that first call (there was no such thing as short
phone call with Andrew) juggling our households of kids in the background.
We laughed, railed, solved as many problems in the world as we could
before one child or another knocked something over. He charmed me from the
During that first call with Andrew, I was a stay at home mom who was
trying to find my voice. I had feelings and opinions but I was struggling
to find the confidence to express myself. Talking to Andrew with his “I
know!” and “Exactly!” punctuating the conversation was magical for me at
the time. He gave me confidence and encouragement to find my voice, and
use it. USE IT. Get out there and fight.
Fast forward a few years and I took a shot in the dark and sent a snarky
email to Human Events Editor Jed Babbin. The email was not in a format
covered in “How to land a writing gig” but more “jotting down the wacky
way I talk to Andrew and other friends.” And Jed, God Bless that
wonderful, amazing man, let me further develop my voice under his
And now, I feel the loss of Andrew in so many ways. I lost a friend. I
think of his wife Susie, one of the most generous, amazing, kind souls I
have ever met, and my heart breaks. At a time in my life I was struggling
with a very real family issue, she gave me insight that changed my
perspective and did so with such generous honesty and vulnerability it
endeared her to me forever. His children were the lights of his life and
as a mother, their pain makes me nauseous and almost paralyzed with grief
As a warrior in General Breitbart’s army, I feel leaderless. In a movement
that is punctuated with example after example of cowardly and
self-destructive behavior, I fear for the movement and fear for my
Bev Perlson of Band of Mothers, always referred to Andrew as the “General
Washington of our time” and she is right. Andrew did not lead from an
ivory tower, a comfortable consulting office in DC or from the cesspool of
Beltway politics. He led from the streets, from stages in the middle of
deserts, corn-fields and town squares. He is one of the few people I can
think of who never asked those around him to fight a fight or take a risk
he was not already up to his eyeballs in.
One time I had to get him to a designated spot by a certain time for an
important interview. I was on much feared “Andrew Wrangler Duty”. No one
ever volunteered for that role, but many around him had to wrangle at some
point. The challenge that drove us crazy? Knowing he had to be at a set
spot, at a set time, and we would have to nudge him through all the people
who just wanted a quick moment.
It didn’t matter how important the meeting, or how famous or powerful the
person he was meeting was, it was never as important to him as the little
old lady who tugged on his sleeve as he raced through a hallway who just
wanted to say hi and get a picture. And you just couldn’t get frustrated
with him when he came to a screeching halt…every 3 feet…for as long as the
stretch was from where he was to where he needed to be, because it was so
endearing and twas the very essence of who he was. He loved being with the
warrior in the street more than any big shot that may have been on his
meeting schedule. He loved what he did. He loved who if did it for. He
loved who he did it with.
He was frenetic, exhausting, exhilarating and one of the funniest people I
have ever known. He could make you cry with laugher as he barked out a
self-deprecating story at the pace of machine gun fire. He could make you
grab your camera and run to the streets to heed his call for citizen
After the Tea Party event in Nashville a few years ago, I noticed that my
face hurt and I tried to figure out why. I realized it had been ages since
I had smiled that much or laughed that hard. He was utterly and completely
Despite the level of vitriol from the left, my frustration with my own
movement, Andrew’s powerful, consistent, smart and saucy voice made me
feel less despondent. He was the warrior in the foxhole who put his head
up, took enemy fire, and let the rest of us see what we are up against.
All morning I have wondered, how do you fill the hole he has left? What
leader can step up to take his place? And I know. No one can. He is
irreplaceable. One person alone can never fill the gaping hole he leaves
behind. We don’t need one Andrew Breitbart to carry on. We need thousands
of Andrew Breitbarts. We need you to be Andrew Breitbart.
My heart is broken. But today, and going forward until my last breath, I
am Andrew Breitbart.