Today is the 30th anniversary of Rush Limbaugh’s syndication on the radio. Many voices are chiming in with their take on Rush as a person, his professional perseverance in his early days, and his politics. Beginning 17 years ago while driving a truck around delivering erosion control materials to job sites, Rush Limbaugh has been a mainstay in my life. I don’t listen as much as I used to, but Rush’s voice was always ringing in my most formative years. I’ve carried his lessons on success, stick-to-itiveness, and fighting for what you believe in. So, today I decided to publically share my Rush Limbaugh story for the first time.
Before a particularly tough week of training in the field during the notoriously tough Marine Corps Infantry Officers Course, my friend Danny approached me and asked if I wanted to go to the Redskins game with him the following weekend. I thanked him and said yes. It’ll give us something to look forward to this next week, I thought.
“How’d you like to watch the game from the owner’s suite?” he asked. Apparently Danny’s parents were friends with Dan Snyder.
“Awesome, thanks man!” Danny paused, smirked, and continued.
“Hey Rob, the Snyders are having other guests too,” Danny drew it out, “How’d you like to watch the game with Rush Limbaugh and his wife?”
My jaw hit the floor. Apparently Danny’s folks, the Snyders, us, and the Limbaughs would be the only people in the suite.
The next week in the field, one of the hardest of the whole 13-week course, flew past for me. For the other guys it went slower, but for me it cruised past. On that Thursday in the field before the Sunday game, I received the rushed word that I needed to drive across the country and report in to my battalion and head straight to Afghanistan. No Redskins game for me. By that Sunday, I was in 29 Palms, California heading into a Catholic church for mass when my phone rang.
“Hello,” I said.
“Hi Rob, this is Rush Limbaugh,” the voice on the other line said. Rush and I went on to have a 15-minute phone call where he asked about me and wished me well on my impending deployment. Throughout the conversation, Rush passed the phone to his wife to help facilitate the conversation (Rush has a great deal of difficulty hearing). Towards the end of the phone call, Rush told me that he and his wife would pray for me and my platoon, and
A friend captured Rush’s next show:
“I was at the Redskins game yesterday. I ran into four of the most handsome, young, clean cut Marines who were just ready to get their orders, and they’re heading to Afghanistan, some are heading to Camp Lejeune and these people all volunteered to defend and protect their country and this constitution. These, they’re some of the greatest young men. They’re 23 to 24 years old and they were up there as guests of Coach Zorn in his suite for the Rams Redskins game the other day. They had me, they got me on the phone with one of their buddies who was in 29 Palms, California who is being sent to Afghan-, to that, to southern Af, to a hell hole in southern Afghanistan…”
And the following day:
“I told you yesterday I was in Coach Zorn’s suite at the Redskins-Rams on Sunday, and he had as his guests, he and his wife, Joy, four handsome, young Marines who were being deployed soon. They put a fifth buddy of theirs on the phone with me in 29 Palms, California. Some of them are going to the hellhole areas of Afghanistan; some of them are going to Camp Lejeune. These people volunteered. They’re out there defending and protecting the US Constitution and this government and the people of this country. They’re fighting for freedom.”
I cannot vouch for Rush Limbaugh’s character in any way than to say this: he gave some faceless dude across the continent 15 minutes of time that he absolutely did not need to do. In his public comments on the interaction, he never indicated the prayers, words of encouragement, and his thanks offered to me and the Marines in my platoon. He seemed classy and gracious in the call, and it touched the recipient of the call. So congratulations, Rush, on 30 years in the business.