For 29 years, The Limbaugh Letter has been Rush’s monthly communiqué he dispatched to us. Now, for the final issue, we present an earnest letter of tribute to Rush.

Each one of us recalls the moment we first heard you on the radio, a memory so vivid that we remember exactly where we were at the time. Your show hit like a national thunderbolt, a storm of rock music, wit, hilarity, unapologetic common sense — and enthusiastic, relentless, delicious skewering of liberals. Which just wasn’t done.

Who is this guy? Where did he come from? Can you believe what he just said! How can he get away with it? How does he come up with this stuff! Hey, I thought I was the only one who thought like that!

Your love of America and her Founding, your passionate and original analysis of “the news of the day,” your confidence and, yes, your braggadocio, caused us to love you immediately. And the fact that you made the dominant media so furious was icing on the cake. We relished how bent out of shape they got. Your tweaking them — on purpose — was uproariously funny, and it changed everything. It revealed the left’s greatest weakness: they’re humorless control freaks.

We knew right away you were one of us, we who had no voice in the media or the culture. All of a sudden, the things we already thought and felt and believed and held dear were for the first time reflected in one corner of the media. Each of us, who had till then believed we were nearly alone or somehow oddball for not swallowing the liberal mainstream media line, immediately realized a critical truth that the left had tried for decades to hide: there are millions upon millions of us. We are everywhere. We are, in fact, the majority in this country.

We truly did not understand that until you, Rush. You not only spoke for us, you woke us up and connected us to each other as an enormous force to be reckoned with. And once we knew, there was no going back.

The excitement was palpable “across the fruited plain,” as we passed the word along to each other, “Ya gotta listen to this guy on the radio, you won’t believe it!” The buzz, buzz, buzz spread like a chemical reaction. Ideological media vacuum, meet talent on loan from God-d. Boom! And soon 20 million listeners were rearranging our days to make sure we could catch broadcast excellence.

Whenever you were on a roll, which was daily, we sat glued in our cars or frozen at our houses, not daring to leave the radio for fear of missing a word. It was true, as you joked, that you were “saying more in five seconds than most hosts say in a lifetime.” This wasn’t even a slight exaggeration. Every single one of us skipped appointments or were late for events because we refused to budge from the radio while you held forth. It was always, always, always worth it.

And many of us have burst into helpless laughter while driving, sometimes even having to pull over lest we veer off the road guffawing at a radio bit. Not uncommon was stopping at a red light and seeing the driver in the next car laughing at the same time, obviously tuned to eib. Thumbs-up were exchanged like a secret handshake as your boisterous good cheer and inspiration forged more and more connections among us, your listeners.

From noon to three eastern, a common sound reverberated throughout the heartland of this country, from storefronts to restaurants to vehicles to homes: your voice on the airwaves. We all stopped to actively listen, and, yes, to talk back to you on the radio. You called us “conversationalists,” and it was indeed a conversation we were having with you: the best on earth. The Rush Hawkins Singers expressed it for us all: “Thank the Lord, Rush Limbaugh’s On!”

Which is why we, your cherished audience, miss you every day. You often spoke of the familial bond you had with us, and that is precisely why we feel such deep familial loss. There remains a painful, gaping hole that loved ones leave.

We all knew you as a close and trusted brother, a father figure, a best friend. Unlike nearly everyone else in the political and cultural arena, you had never, ever let us down. You truly were our “guiding light through times of trouble, confusion, murkiness, tumult, chaos, and even the good times.” You were indeed a harmless, loveable little fuzzball to us — while literally the most dangerous man in America to those who hate the truth.

You taught us the joy of analysis, the pure pleasure of original thought, the power of persuasion and of passion and of confidence in the strength of conservative principles. And you instructed us in the lethal dangers of leftism — and in how to view events through the correct ideological prism.

You taught us that optimism is a decision and an operating system. You taught us that doom-and-gloom is a trap and never correct. You instructed us to never panic, never give up, and never doubt the future, because we are Americans. You taught us our only limitations are those we place on ourselves, that in this country we can follow our dreams, and must.

You taught us that America is indeed an exceptional nation, a beacon to the world. We continue to be exceptional in that socialism has not won here — which is the key reason the left hates when we correctly and properly call ourselves exceptional. So we will continue to say it, repeatedly and proudly.

You taught us to revere America’s miraculous Founding and miraculous Founding documents. According to The Federalist, the National Archives has just slapped ‘harmful content’ warnings on the U.S. Constitution and all other Founding documents: “[S]ome of the materials presented here may reflect outdated, biased, offensive, and possibly violent views and opinions… [They may] reflect racist, sexist, ableist, misogynistic/misogynoir, and xenophobic opinions and attitudes; be discriminatory towards or exclude diverse views on sexuality, gender, religion, and more…”

And here’s where they’re right. You taught us that American history and Americans’ institutional and collective memory is indeed “harmful” — to the left. The only way they can succeed is to quash it — and to portray our own past as shameful rather than as our source of greatness. That is why we must preserve the truth of the American Founding. You made it clear, this burden now rests on our shoulders: it’s entirely up to us.

You equipped us for battle in the arena of ideas. You taught us we must know the left like every square inch of our glorious naked bodies. You reminded us, over and over, that we are the people who make this country work. By example, you taught us not to fear the media, but to savor their hysteria when we tell the truth. That is why, following your lead, we will know exactly what we mean to say and love hearing ourselves say it — because we’re right.

Your brother David recently wrote, “So many people I talk to are so discouraged — so worried about the present — and future — of this country. Have faith, people. We will prevail, even if we have to fight like hell to do it — and I firmly suspect we will. I love sharing this mammoth foxhole with you patriots.”

Any foxhole with a Limbaugh is a foxhole we need to be in. Your family legacy is saving and preserving America — by fighting for individual liberty, personal responsibility, and limited government. All with irrepressible good cheer, inspiration, and irreverent humor.

You once said, “In the 1970s Reagan came along and gave conservatives confidence that what they believed was good, right, wholesome, and worthwhile. And so they were able to publicly be and act who they were. I have, I think, done that aspect of what Reagan did.” On the money, Rush. You not only gave us courage and confidence to be who we are, but to enjoy life while doing it. Possibly even having more fun than a human being should be allowed to have.

In December 1992 the great Ronaldus Magnus sent you a letter:

Dear Rush,

Thanks for all you’re doing to promote Republican and conservative principles. Now that I’ve retired from active politics, I don’t mind that you have become the Number One voice for conservatism in our Country. I know the liberals call you “the most dangerous man in America,” but don’t worry about it, they used to say the same thing about me. Keep up the good work. America needs to hear “the way things ought to be.”

Sincerely, Ron

Reagan passed the torch to you, and you, in turn, passed it to us — after three decades of preparing us to handle the job. We are — we must be — the keepers of the flame of freedom. We owe it to you and to the nation we all cherish.

“Thank you” doesn’t come close to expressing what you’ve meant to us over 30-plus years of excellence, as your voice steadied and sustained us through every liberal outrage, every political setback, and every triumph. You remain in our hearts a national treasure. We love you always and forever.

Till we meet again, Rush.