When William F. Buckley Jr. died at his Connecticut home Wednesday, he left behind a vast legacy as the principal founder of modern conservatism. He was one of the intellectual giants behind the Reagan revolution and the fall of Soviet communism.

He also left more than a few of his countrymen choking down lumps of grief and gratitude, so great was the impact Buckley had on generations of young conservatives, from the 1950s onward.

To be sure, Buckley was a seminal figure of my youth. In the 1980s, I clipped his newspaper columns, studied his National Review magazine, pored through his books and, along with my dad, never missed his "Firing Line" discussion show on PBS.

In high school, a friend of mine who didn't share my politics used to joke that, in my book, Ronald Reagan and Buckley were just a couple of notches below God. Which, in all honesty, wasn't too far wrong.

In 1989, as a senior at the University of Georgia, I went to Clemson to see Buckley give a lecture. I lingered after the speech and, uninvited, went backstage looking for him.

Buckley couldn't have been more gracious as I introduced myself and told him that, for Dad and me, his "Firing Line" loomed nearly as large on our Sunday schedule as church. Smiling, he said he was honored to be part of our weekend ritual.

He signed a book of his columns for me, joking in the inscription that the volume was not to be read during his TV show. I handed Buckley a manila envelope of my college newspaper opinion pieces and asked him to take a look.

Several weeks later, a detailed letter arrived from New York. Buckley offered encouragement along with a host of valuable critiques. Famous for his expansive vocabulary, Buckley clarified for me the meaning of "presently," which I had misused as a fancier way of saying "now." (It means "soon.")

He also evaluated my overall approach, suggesting that I may have been more persuasive in a piece denouncing animal rights activists if my rhetoric hadn't been as extreme. It was advice I took to heart.

So what was it that ultimately made Buckley so special? His generosity? His spirit? His wit? Yes, all those things and more.

I think Time magazine cut to the heart of his appeal with a whimsical 1967 cover portrait and a headline declaring, "Conservatism Can Be Fun." With Buckley, fun was a constant.

There will be those who take the occasion of Buckley's passing to criticize, by contrast, prominent conservatives of today, among them Rush Limbaugh. But, as anyone who actually listens to Limbaugh knows, the two men shared more than a political philosophy. Like Buckley, Limbaugh loves his work, doesn't take himself too seriously and always has fun.

In the way he lived, across an accomplished half-century in public life, Buckley gave all of us —- conservative, liberal or somewhere in between —- a glimpse of what a life well-lived can look like: enjoying what you do, pursuing your passions, loving your spouse, working out your faith each day. He made every moment count.

Even in death, Buckley gave us something to shoot for. On Wednesday morning, he was found sitting at his desk, having worked right up to the end. Would that we could all exit this life as vital and engaged.

In his 82 years, William F. Buckley Jr. trumpeted the cause of freedom and limited government and enduring values —- and he had a fine time doing it. Along the way, he enriched the lives of millions of people, including mine. God rest his soul.

> Luke Boggs is a speechwriter living in Alpharetta.