In The American Spectator, Melissa Mackenzie eulogizes her friend and colleague, Rabbi Dov Fischer, an exceptional writer and pundit. She begins:

God sent me Dov Fischer.

Many years back, stressed and overwhelmed by the needs of The American Spectator, this desperate publisher got on her knees and prayed. I did, and still do, pray for this publication often. Publishing is a brutal business, and God or God-like benefactors keep the presses humming. In this case, I needed legal writers and so laid out my lament to God (and yes, this is a true story) and two weeks later, one day after the other, God sent me the great former federal prosecutor George Parry, and he sent me noted law professor and rabbi, Dov Fischer. I’ve thought often about this answered prayer. It seems like such a small thing — needing writers — but God saw our need and answered and did what God does, and gave me way more than I asked for.

Dov wrote like no one else. Intelligent, winding, every post was an educational lesson wrapped in a story sprinkled with puns and endearing figures of speech. Wlady Pleszczynski says that The American Spectator is a writer’s magazine, and boy, could Dov write. And write. And write some more. He had so much to say and not in a drunk uncle way. No, what Dov said was so important that the reader didn’t care how many words it took to say it. In fact, it was disappointing when the lesson was over. Dov’s writing had that coveted voice. Readers heard his enthusiasm or sadness or gravity in his writing; they could see in their minds the pictures he created.

Read more here.