On the eve of two very different commemorations, the American public is invited to reflect on the legacies of two men who, despite sharing a surname, left their marks in distinct ways. One, William F. Buckley Jr., was a towering figure in American political thought and media, whose influence still echoes through the halls of power and debate. The other, William Ernest "Butch" Buckley Jr., was a beloved community member in South Charleston, West Virginia, remembered fondly by friends and family. As September 2025 unfolds, both are being honored, albeit in very different fashions—a testament to the many ways lives can shape, and be celebrated by, their communities.
William F. Buckley Jr. is set to be immortalized by the U.S. Postal Service with a commemorative Forever stamp. The dedication ceremony will take place on September 9, 2025, at 4:30 p.m. on Beinecke Plaza at Yale University in New Haven, Connecticut—the very institution that launched Buckley into the national spotlight. According to The Courant, the event is free and open to the public, with attendees encouraged to RSVP at usps.com/williamfbuckleystamp. The list of scheduled speakers reads like a who’s who of American intellectual and political life: Isaac Cronkhite, USPS executive; Christopher Buckley, his son; Pericles Lewis, dean of Yale College; George Will, author and journalist; Lauren Noble, founder of the Buckley Institute; and Peter Robinson, author and television host.
In its announcement, the U.S. Postal Service described Buckley as “a larger-than-life figure who helped define modern American conservatism as a writer, political commentator and novelist.” That’s no exaggeration. Buckley, who founded National Review magazine, is widely credited with fusing traditional conservatism and libertarianism into a popular philosophy—one that, as The Courant notes, paved the way for the GOP presidential nomination of Barry Goldwater in 1964 and Ronald Reagan’s election in 1980. Buckley’s reach extended well beyond the printed page. His weekly PBS show, Firing Line, ran from 1966 to 1999, featuring spirited debates with guests from across the political spectrum. The show’s Emmy Award win in 1969 cemented Buckley’s reputation as a public intellectual who could engage, challenge, and entertain both conservative and liberal viewers.
Buckley’s journey to public prominence began in 1951, at just 27 years old, with the publication of his first book, God and Man at Yale. In it, he excoriated his alma mater for, as he saw it, losing sight of its moral mission. That bold critique set the tone for a career defined by sharp intellect, wit, and a willingness to tackle divisive issues head-on. As The Courant recounted in its obituary, Buckley’s gifts were many: “His Blackford Oakes novels are wonderfully entertaining; his ruminations about sailing, food and his Catholic faith invariably well informed. His wit was of Swiftian stature. When asked what he’d do if he won his 1965 race for mayor of New York, Mr. Buckley immediately responded, ‘I’d demand a recount.’”
Interestingly, some of Buckley’s policy proposals from that 1965 mayoral race—like imposing fees on cars coming into Manhattan and establishing bike lanes—wouldn’t seem out of place in contemporary urban planning debates. That’s the kind of forward-thinking, sometimes contrarian approach that kept Buckley relevant across decades. He retired from National Review in 1990, but his influence lingered. A year later, he was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, and in 2018, Firing Line was relaunched on PBS, introducing a new generation to Buckley’s signature style of civil discourse.
“Buckley shaped the conservative movement into a formidable political force,” the postal service emphasized. “Known for his eloquence, wit and ability to unite different conservative voices, his influence ranged from mid-20th-century politics to the White House.” The stamp dedication at Yale is more than just a nod to Buckley’s achievements; it’s a recognition of the enduring impact of his ideas and the conversations he sparked—conversations that, for better or worse, continue to define American politics.
Meanwhile, in South Charleston, West Virginia, another Buckley is being remembered in a far more intimate, but no less meaningful, way. William Ernest “Butch” Buckley Jr., who was born on September 4, 1940, and passed away on December 22, 2020, is the focus of a Celebration of Life event on September 6, 2025. As reported in the Charleston Gazette-Mail, the gathering will take place at the South Charleston Memorial Ice Arena, 20 RHL Boulevard, from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m.—an open invitation for friends and community members to drop in, share stories, and honor Butch’s memory. Notably, September 6 would have been his 85th birthday.
While his life did not play out on the national stage, Butch Buckley’s legacy is no less significant to those who knew him. The event’s organizers invite attendees to “remember Butch and share stories,” a simple but powerful call to community. There’s also an invitation to plant trees in his memory, a living tribute that speaks to the enduring roots he put down in South Charleston. The Charleston Gazette-Mail obituary underscores the importance of such local commemorations, which, though quieter, are essential threads in the fabric of American life.
These two events, so close together in time yet worlds apart in scale, serve as a reminder of the varied ways Americans honor their dead and celebrate their legacies. For William F. Buckley Jr., it’s a national ceremony, a stamp, and speeches from dignitaries and intellectuals. For Butch Buckley, it’s stories shared on an ice rink, memories exchanged, and perhaps a sapling planted in his name. Both are, in their own ways, acts of remembrance that connect past to present, the famous to the familiar.
As the U.S. Postal Service honors William F. Buckley Jr. at Yale, and as friends gather in West Virginia for Butch Buckley, the country is offered an opportunity to reflect—on the ways we shape our communities, the impact of ideas and actions, and the diverse forms that legacy can take. Whether celebrated by a nation or a neighborhood, a life well lived leaves its mark.