At first, there were three of us. When I started work as a speechwriter for Richard Nixon in the White House Executive Office Building in the Fall of 1973, I was in a speechwriters’ suite of three extremely well-furnished offices facing 17th Street. I was by far the most junior of them all by experience. The man to my left was Aram Bakshian, Jr., a long-time speechwriter for conservative causes. He was a writer on food and on history. He was the same age as I was, but he had been a speechwriter for longer years than I. He was a dapper fellow whose knowledge of almost everything was breathtaking.
I will never have another friend like John.
I was just north of a man named John R. Coyne, Jr. He had been a speechwriter for Mr. Agnew, but when Mr. Agnew left office hurriedly, John was moved to the Presidential staff.
He was a super-good writer for Mr. Nixon, as he was for National Review beforehand. He was a cordial neighbor from the first day. The first words he said to me were a question: “How does it feel to be on the first team?” I said, “It feels great.” He was under the impression that my father, Herbert Stein, Mr. Nixon’s power economist, had gotten me the gig. When he learned I had earned it by hard work, he became even more cordial. We often talked until late at night about America and about Mr. Nixon and about fathers.
We frequently went out for lunch together at a nearby sandwich shop, “K’s Sandwich Shop,” the best food I have ever had.
My wife came to visit me often and John took a great liking to her, as everyone does.
The day RN resigned, he was with me all day.
He was Gibraltar in those horrible days.
When we all had left the EOB, I went to the Wall Street Journal editorial page. He wrote for Mr. Ford.
Time passed. A lot of time. We spent years together on the phone. I was by then out of the WSJ, and John was in Chicago writing for a major energy entity. I came to Chicago many times. We talked and walked around the Loop. I was in Hollywood, writing scripts, books, articles, busting frauds. I was often in terror about money, a constant of my life. He listened and did not judge. He soothed me and trusted me, and I loved him.
He died this morning at 90 of cancer. I am shaking with fear and horror. I will never have another friend like John. A brilliant talent. A super Christian. A great Conservative.
I loved him then and I love him now and so does my wife.
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