I'm a night owl as it is, but this past Saturday night I was up even later than usual. I'd watched the World Cup with my dad (go Argentina!), and it went into overtime or whatever you call it in soccer, and when that was over, I was tired but still a bit too wired to sleep. So, I decided to start this three-part documentary on Netflix. Just one episode, I said. Okay, fine, just two, and I'll save the third one for tomorrow. Famous last words. I had to know how it ended.
By the time I finished the third episode it was nearly 3 a.m., and I had just crawled into bed when I saw that I had several new emails. I scanned the subject lines: "Senator Lindsey Graham Dead." I couldn't believe it. He'd just been in Ukraine and seemed so vibrant and alive. I'd seen him on Fox News recently and he was as outspoken and colorful as ever. I briefly wondered if the news outlet had misspelled Mitch McConnell. Once I realized it was true, it sort of felt like a punch in the gut.
Politically, I didn't always agree with Graham, but I actually found him to be an interesting and entertaining person. As Erick Erickson wrote on Sunday morning, "He did not care what you thought of him," and I always found that admirable, as I do when anyone reaches that level of unbothered. My dad and I actually liked to joke about him, as did one of my more political friends and I, but none of it was ever mean-spirited. And I loved hearing that South Carolina accent ramp up when he was passionate about something, which was often.
Anyway, after the initial bit of shock, I jumped into journalist mode and broke the news for PJ Media, and while I was trying to come up with some things to say about Graham's legacy, all I could think about was how the most important thing he ever did happened long before he got into politics.
Graham didn't grow up with a silver spoon or come from a fancy family. His parents, F.J. and Millie, ran a small restaurant and bar in the town of Central, S.C. They lived in a single room behind the business, along with Lindsey and his little sister, Darline, who was about a decade younger than him. The family ate, slept, and lived in that room, and they shared a bathroom with the business' patrons. Graham would heat water on the stove to take a bath.
He also stepped in to help with the family business at a young age, going to work when he was just 12 years old. "I ran the pool hall," he once told the Washington Post. "I've heard every story and then some." But he also says that going to work in that environment at such a young age taught him many important life lessons that he is actually grateful for.
After graduating high school, Graham's college years were wrought with tragedy. When he was just 20 years old, his mother died from Hodgkin's lymphoma. He was the one who had to break the news to his little sister.
A little over a year later, his father died in his sleep after having a heart attack. Darline, who discovered their father dead, was only 13 years old at the time. Graham rushed home from school to comfort his sister. "Lindsey wrapped his arms around me and promised me he would always be there for me and always take care of me," she once said in an interview.
He didn't have to do it. What young man, at the age of 21 or 22, with his whole life ahead, wants to put everything on hold and help raise a young girl and take over a family business? But that's exactly what he did. He came from college every single weekend to spend time with his sister and manage the bar.
Graham has talked about how the two struggled financially. He eventually sold the business and went on to attend law school at the University of South Carolina before beginning his active duty service in the United States Air Force. As the story goes, he formally adopted Darline at this time so that she could take advantage of his military benefits.
"It was hard when we lost my mom and dad," Darline has said in the past. "Lindsey assured me that he was going to take care of me, and he was going to be there for me. That's just who he is."
But she wasn't just talking about those years when they were orphans. Their parents often worked long hours, which left the children on their own when they were younger too. Darline has said that Lindsey practically raised her anyway, that if she fell and scraped her knee, he was the one there to clean it up and make her feel better.
Both of them have joked about how strict he was as her guardian. Apparently, she was a bit on the rebellious side, and he says he was too strict — not allowing her to date and even smelling her clothes to make sure she wasn't out smoking. But still, they made it work.
Lindsey and Darline remained close until his death — he once called her his closest confidant. And when he ran for president in 2016, many questioned his status as a bachelor. He suggested that Darline could step in and handle any duties a first lady would typically.
I've seen some nasty things said about Graham today. Most of it comes from the left, though some of it comes from our side too. The politics are what they are and will be what they will be. But the fact is that at the end of the day, Graham was a son and a brother who never turned his back on the people he loved. That's what's worth talking about on the day after someone's untimely death, or, at least, that's my opinion.
