 I'm going to make these remarks short because we're here largely for the awards. And Bob Bafay was not really primary a journalist, although he was a journalist. I'd like to point out some of the high points of the human being and what he really was to an awful lot of libertarians. Bob is not as well known on the East Coast as he was on the West and the Midwest. He began his career, really, in the post-World War II atmosphere as really one of the last people to hold on to the principles of what we now think of as the old right. By that I mean the isolationist right wing in America. The right wing that opposed American entry into World War II and Korea and Vietnam and upheld free market principles which had applied not only to American people but to people all across the world. I remember during the Korean War, I was not there at the time. I was too young. Bob wrote some of his essays and editorials against American participation in the war and he suggested that in the name of anti-communism we were beginning to adopt as a social system some of the very features of that social system which we profess to hate such as conscription, for example, of taking individual human beings' lives away from them and out of their own hands to control and putting them into the hands of a state to use them for powers of carrying out an international foreign policy. Bob was a journalist. He became the editorial page editor of the Colorado Springs Gazette Heligraph in the mid-1950s. He was one of the flagships of the late R.C. Hoyle's Freedom Newspaper chain. Again, one of the great figures of the old right that was the predecessor of the Buckley right and opposing, it was so different from today's right wing. I mean the homeworks were its opposition to war and conscription and to militarism involved varieties. It was seen, militarism was seen as being anti-individualism at that time, anti-private property. And if you can imagine opposing as Bob Lefebvre did the Vietnam War not merely on the grounds of opposing conscription or taxes but also violating the liberty, lives and property of the Vietnamese. You see how different this kind of free market person was from the kind we've begun to see coming out of the woodwork since the accession of Ronald Reagan to power. Throughout the 1950s, Bob had a dream and that dream was the Freedom School. I was privileged to teach with him for one summer in 1968 before unfortunately it went bankrupt. He was the editorial page editor of the Gazette Holograph and he had an agreement with Harry Hoyle to have time to himself once he finished his editorials for the day. And he'd finish them up, get up at about 5.30 in the morning, work until about noon, finish them up and then he took off to the foothills of the Rockies where he had bought a square mile of land and there physically he himself, a few women who worked with him, a few men who were friends who shared his dream, physically built, log by log, the Freedom School, which consisted of seven log cabin buildings in the foothills of the Rockies which were going to be there for the purposes of being a retreat and a school. Although as I say, he was a journalist, I think he was really much better known to those of my generation as a teacher and he was just an inestimable teacher. I don't know anyone who ever went through a course, they've taught there, who wasn't profoundly moved and I'll give you an example of it. One of the courses of which I was a member, I was in the audience, he was teaching his two-week comprehensive course seminar on Freedom, Principles of Freedom. It was two weeks long, six days a week, he taught for six hours a day on his feet and then for two more in the evening when he fielded questions when the students presented papers. There was an eager young woman in the audience and her husband was auditing the course from the balcony. He was an Army Colonel who had just been reassigned for another tour of duty in Vietnam. He had re-enlisted. He was just there, as I say, as an auditor. He wasn't part of the course. At the end of the two weeks, he announced that he was going to resign his commission and that he would not go to Vietnam on a second tour of duty. This is the kind of power that we saw in Bob LeFave, those of us who studied with him and it was a magnetic personality. There was a sense of wisdom there, of decency. A sense of principle which went very, very deep. Like most such schools, Rampart College, which was later renamed, the Frima School was later renamed as Rampart College, it was dependent heavily for outside subsidies. And of course in the right wing of that time, the Buckley-dominated right wing in the post-1955 era, they were pro-Cole War, pro-draft, pro-militarism, pro-taxes to support the military machine. But LeFave didn't trim his sails, not once. I know that times were very hard for them, many times throughout the 1960s. He couldn't raise the money he needed, but that didn't silence him. He continued to speak out against the Vietnam War, against American meddling all over the place, against the draft continually, against the kind of taxes and regulation of the economy and regulation of individual lives which were necessary to fund it. It's not that the whole focus of his teaching you see was on these issues. He was not, but he wasn't quiet. He got some money from during Milken textiles, for example. Roger Milken being the head of it, and Roger Milken is a great libertarian who believes in all sorts of free market principles, except when it comes to tariffs and quotas for textiles. Bob was dependent on him for about half his support every year throughout the 60s, and never once stopped attacking protective tariffs and quotas, not once. Let's give you a measure of the man, and I think it's a rather unique thing that we see. There are very few people in print or in the area of teaching or anything else who have that kind of courage of their convictions who don't worry about, oh, where the next paycheck are coming from, where the next meal is coming from. Bob worried about these things, of course, but never wants to be quiet down or temper his principles to fit the fashion of the time, not once. I remember when I met him as a young 18-year-old punk, my first trip outside of Buffalo, New York to go to the Freedom School in the foothills of the Rockies. It was set like a certain sort of Shangri-La up in the mountains. It was 7,000 feet above ground, above sea level, and it sort of gave me a bit of a spinning feeling to my head. And with all these log cabins built on the side of these sloping hills, it came down to the bottom to the Roosevelt Adelaide Hall, where he lectured. In the lecture, the desks were made out of split logs for the base of desks and a flat board across it. And he taught their classes never more than 20 or 25 people, as I say, for six hours a day, and shaped an awful lot of opinions. He didn't have the kind of mass following or mass readership of a George Willow or William Buckley or Ronald Reagan, but he touched a lot of lives. He touched a lot of lives because he was an honest man, because his integrity really was not worn on his sleeve, but simply a part of the way he faced life. And while many of you may know who he is, and others may not, we do commemorate him because he was one of really the great figures that we pay homage to and respect to. He was a wonderful writer, he was a wonderful teacher, and he was a wonderful friend, and we will remember him always.