expression “get a life,”rnThe Capital Research Center’s advicernto well-meaning donors who wish to supportrnthe free market: don’t die. But ifrnyou must, then leave explicit instructionsrnabout your intent as a donor. If you’ll bernestablishing a foundation, set term limitsrnand restrictions. In that way, vou’ll be assuredrnthat your funds never support liberalrncauses you never supported in life.rnThomas F. Roeser is a columnist for thernChicago Sun-Times and a radio talkrnshow host.rnJOURNALISMrnThe Rise and Fall ofrna Paleoconservativernat the WashingtonrnTimes (Part II)rnby Samuel FrancisrnLess than two months after WashingtonrnTimes editor-in-chief Wes Prudenrnin June demoted me to the rank ofrneditorial writer and cut my salary by 25rnpercent, yet another cloud began to formrnon my horizon. In May 1994,1 had givenrna speech at a conference on “Racernand American Culture” in Atlanta sponsoredrnby Jared Taylor’s newsletter AmericanrnRenaissance, and a rather bizarre accountrnof the conference took up part of arnchapter in Dinesh D’Souza’s new book,rnThe End of Racism. D’Souza tried tornportray the meeting and its speakers asrnrepresenting a “new spirit of white bigotry,”rnand lumped it in the same categoryrnas black racial crackpots like LeonardrnJeffries and Louis Farrakhan; but it wasrnplain to me and the other conferencernparticipants that D’Souza, by depictingrnthe Atlanta conference in a sinister light,rnwas anticipating and trying to deflect thernaccusations of “racism” that would soonrnbe lodged against his own book.rnD’Souza’s smear seemed to have littlernto do with my situation at the Times, butrnon September 24, the Sunday WashingtonrnPost published a long excerpt fromrnhis chapter on the Atlanta conference. Irnexpected that Wes Pruden and TodrnLindberg would use it to complete myrndefenestration, but in fact I heard nothingrnabout it for several days. I had forgottenrnsomething, though. Since I hadrnstarted writing three editorials a weekrnthree months earlier, I had formed thernhabit of turning in all three pieces onrnThursday afternoons. That’s what I didrnthat week, sending the drafts to Todrnaround one o’clock. Two hours later, Irnwas asked to step into Pruden’s office.rnWith Tod brooding silently next to hisrndesk, Wes at once launched into his firingrnspeech. A copy of the D’Souza piecernfrom the Post and another from the bookrnwere on his desk, and certain passagesrnwere highlighted for quick reference.rnWes’s main argument for my immediaterndeparture was that while the Times editorializedrnagainst affirmative action andrnsimilar policies, my views on race as expressedrnin the passages from D’Souza’srnbook could be construed as ulterior reasonsrnfor taking those editorial positions,rnand he did not want the paper associatedrnwith those views. I pointed out that (a) Irndid not write these passages in the paperrnor for editorials; (b) I did not controlrnwhat appeared on the editorial page;rnwhat I submitted for the editorial pagernhad to be approved and edited by Tod orrnhis deputy and Wes himself before thernpaper published it; (c) what I wrote underrnmy own name had nothing to dornwith the paper; and (d) there was nothingrnwrong with what I had written anyway.rnI also argued that whatever hernthought about m)’ ‘iews on race, I hadrnnever written or said anything negativernor demeaning about blacks or otherrnracial groups as groups and had not engagedrnin racial slurs.rnWes quickly dismissed all my argumentsrnand proposed a three-month severancernagreement whereby the paperrnwould continue to pay me my presentrn(reduced) salarv’ if I gave him a letter ofrnresignation the next day. Since I hadrnalready been making plans to leave thernpaper, and there was little to be accomplishedrnby further back and forth, Irnaccepted. I also expressed the hope thernpaper would continue to run my column.rnWes said he thought it was best tornmake a clean break and cease publishingrnit. Finally, I asked him, “I assume yournknow that my column is popular.” Hernreadily acknowledged this fact, but sincernthat made no difference to him either,rnwhat more was there to say?rnThe next day, September 29,1 turnedrnin the letter of resignation Wes had demanded.rnThe paper carried ni)- columnrnthat day but has not published it since,rnthough it did publish the three editorialsrnI wrote during my last week. After ninernyears on the staff of the 13-year-old paper,rnafter remaining in the editorial departmentrnwhen most of mv colleaguesrnwalked out, after serving as editorial writer,rndeputy editorial page editor, actingrneditorial page editor, and staff columnist,rnafter winning the two most distinguishedrnawards anyone at the paper hadrnever received, I had finally been told tornpack up the luggage and get out. If thisrnis the “official voice of the conservativernmovement,” it’s not one I want to listenrnto any longer.rnWhen news broke among my readersrnthat the Times had finally fired me, thernreaction could only be called one of coldrnfury, and the volume of correspondencernbetween outraged or mystified readersrnand the increasingly defensive Prudenrncontinued to swell. Wes now resorted tornoutright lies to cover his action, sendingrnout yet another form letter that maderneven darker insinuations than before.rn”Sam Francis, whose primary duties werernwriting editorials to express the views ofrnthe newspaper,” he wrote, “knew that herndeliberately stepped over the line byrnchallenging the restraints put on his persistentrnpushing of a personal agenda, thernfull content of which you may not bernaware and would not heed warnings thatrnthe forbearance of the newspaper wasrnnot inexhaustible.” This letter was sentrnout only a few da)’s after Wes had beenrntelling readers my voice “was as vibrant asrnever” and that I continued to hold a “positionrnof highest prestige” at the paper.rnHis pretense that I had been insubordinaternby trying to impose my “agenda” onrnthe paper was preposterous. In my ninernyears of writing editorials at the paper, Irnhad never tried to do any such thing, andrnnone of the several editors I workedrnunder ever claimed I had. Pruden’s contradictions,rnoutright untruths, and thernseveral grammatical and spelling errorsrnin his letters all suggest he was feelingrnsome heat, if not a little guilt and fear,rnover his action against me.rnThere were also cancellations of subscriptions.rnI don’t know how many, andrnthey probably didn’t hurt the paper’s circulationrnsignificantly, but they seem tornhave been numerous. One friend whorncalled up to cancel says the clerk askedrnhim why he was dropping his subscription,rnand he told her it was because thernMAY 1996/43rnrnrn