WILLIAM LASH'S TRAGIC FINAL ACT
SHOULD NOT COLOR HIS MEMORY

[Already we're in trouble. It can and it should and actually of course it will. Most people never knew who Lash was. They will remember him only because he took a shotgun he had in the house and killed his son and then himself. Also -- the word "tragic" will be used quite a bit in what follows, but I'm not sure it's used legitimately. Calling something tragic sheds a sort of cosmic inevitability upon it, removing agency from the person who after all did the thing.]

Last week something so terrible, so senseless, and so tragic occurred that when I learned of it, I gasped for air. [Though a cliche, "gasped for air" is good, because it probably accurately describes the punched-in-the-gut reaction the writer had to this event. The larded up list of adjectives, however, does not work well, especially as an opening gambit in this essay, which clearly wishes to recuperate the memory of a man who was very good before his homicidal act. The redundancy on tragic weakens the impact of the word, and "senseless" is rather weak too. "Terrible" is good, and the sentence would have been stronger had the writer simply used that word, alone.]

In an apparent act of desperation and what I can only think was temporary insanity, one of the kindest, brightest, most articulate and effective policymakers I have known took his life and the life of his young son at their home in McLean, Va. [The problem with this sentence lies squarely in one word: "policymaker." After the shining list of adjectives, we expect something like "gentleman" or "friend." Policymaker is almost absurdly wonky, a rhetorical as well as emotional letdown.]

William H. Lash III should not be remembered for this terrible last act. [Again, this approach is rhetorically tricky. It comes very close to simply commanding the reader to do something, when, especially in cases like this one, you've got to do the hard work of reconstructing a character for a person.] In an all-too-short but brilliant career that took Bill to the halls of academia, corporate governance and government service, he left a mark on everyone and every effort he touched. [In general, this essay has too many cliches -- phrases like "the halls of academia" -- and they just won't do when the circumstances are so horribly out of the ordinary.]

Bill distinguished himself effortlessly. In the 1980s, after receiving undergraduate and law degrees from Yale and Harvard universities, and clerking for a New Jersey Supreme Court justice, Bill served as counsel to the chairman of the International Trade Commission in the Reagan administration, beginning his successful and important work in public policy that would span the next two decades. As a law professor in the 1990s at both St. Louis University and George Mason University, he was known by students and colleagues alike for his engaging, accessible personality and his exceptional legal scholarship. In 2001, Bill was appointed assistant secretary of commerce in President George W. Bush's administration, where he served with distinction until last year when he returned to George Mason to resume his duties teaching law. [This reads like the blandest resume summary. Again, the writer is trying to do something important -- to resuscitate the good of a man -- but he hasn't been able to make his writing important.]

He also served as a senior fellow at Washington University's Center for the Study of American Business (now the Weidenbaum Center), where it was my privilege to work with him for several years on the center's international research. At the center, Bill's research in the area of international trade received wide attention both in the media and policy circles, leaving an indelible mark on the policymaking of the day.

Every individual that I have spoken to this week who knew Bill has expressed the same stunned sense of disbelief over this terrible tragedy. [Again, note the recycled words.] Everyone who knew him remembers Bill's incredible devotion to his son, Will, making this event all the more difficult to accept and comprehend.

There is no understanding Bill's last desperate act. Anyone who was lucky enough to know him can only hang their head in sadness and pray for him, his young son, his wife, Sharon, and their entire families.

But William H. Lash III also led a good and decent life [This is by far the best phrase in the piece - simple, powerful, right to the point. Slightly rewritten, it should have been the first sentence.] before his final, inexplicable and terrible moments. He enriched and touched the lives of many with his brilliance, character, and easy charm.

That is the Bill Lash that I will try to remember.