This is not an obituary in any traditional sense. There are scores of family, friends, staffers, colleagues, and constituents who knew Senator Lindsey Graham a lot longer, and a lot better than I did. This is just one former staffer’s attempt at making sense of the shocking loss of a man who had a major impact on his life and career, and who didn’t fully grasp that impact until the first tear left his eye last Sunday morning.

Among the hundreds of texts, DMs, calls and comments I have received and read following Lindsey’s passing, one sentiment followed many of their condolences: “I had no idea…”

I had no idea Lindsey lost his parents at such a young age.

I had no idea Lindsey adopted and raised his sister, Darline.

I had no idea Lindsey served in the Air Force.

I had no idea Lindsey was so funny.

I had no idea Lindsey was so kind.

In other words, they didn’t know what made Lindsey Graham, Lindsey Graham. 

I joined Lindsey’s 2020 re-election campaign in the summer of 2019. Scott Farmer, Lindsey’s longtime Campaign Manager, and my current colleague at Push Digital Group, instructed me to read the 2015 autobiography “My Life” to get up to speed on his background. I remember sitting in my new apartment in Columbia, South Carolina, reading the book, and repeating “I had no idea” in my head. Over the next two years and more, it all began to make sense.

If you didn’t know that Lindsey had an autobiography until just now, don’t feel bad; neither did the 2016 Republican primary electorate.

But fast forward to 2026. In today’s brutal and nasty political climate, Americans long for a return of statesmen and happy warriors who can have disagreements and debates without making it overly personal. The boy who grew up, quite literally, in the backroom of a bar and pool hall in the small town of Central, South Carolina, was one of the last vestiges of what America is yearning for, and I saw it up close and personal day in and day out. 

Lindsey would fight you by day, and eat and drink with you by night. To put a finer point on it, Lindsey once said while running for president that if he was elected, he would open a bar in the White House. “We’re going to get liquored up and solve our nation’s problems,” he pledged. I still endorse that plan.

When asked what I will remember most about Lindsey Graham, it would be his joy in the job. His laugh and good humor were contagious, even when he pointed his jokes at himself. The boyish exuberance he brought to serving his home state was apparent to anyone blessed enough to know him; friend or foe. In his joy I saw the impish young boy who ran around the Sanitary Café, screwing around and cracking jokes with the patrons after a hard day of work. From getting mobbed at University of South Carolina tailgates to debating a hotly contentious topic with a Senate colleague, he loved being in the mix. That embrace of being the man in the arena paid dividends for the people of South Carolina, and for America in more ways than I can count. To borrow a Reggie Jackson quote, he was always the straw that stirred the drink.

I’ve always thought a great way to be remembered in death is that your presence in a room made it a more enjoyable and fun place. Unless Lindsey was showing up for a fight, he did. One night at dinner in Pendleton, South Carolina, just outside of Clemson, a loud cry came from a table of sorority girls upstairs. I scanned the room looking to see what celebrity was performing at Clemson and stopped by for dinner. A waiter soon informed us the “celebrity” was at our table. So much for Lindsey not being popular among young females!

In the years following the 2020 election, my interactions with Lindsey waned. No more multiple calls a day, campaigning, or laughs. Just the occasional run-in and conversation. But one constant was that if I needed something, he was there. No questions asked. It’s a trait forged all those years ago when he stepped up to raise his young teenage sister when their parents died; that was his proudest achievement in his storied life. His loyalty led to unheard-of tenures among his staffers. In retrospect, my fear of wasting his time with checking in and thanking him seems stupid. I don’t think he would have cared. But unexpected and untimely death has a way of making you question things.

If I can leave you with one takeaway, it is that Lindsey Graham was a great man. He was fiercely loyal, patriotic, and he treated a foreign prime minister no different than a struggling constituent from the Pee Dee. He helped shape foreign policy, the federal judiciary, and so much more in ways that will be felt for decades to come. 

The outpouring of tributes from all corners of his life reflects something rarely seen when a politician dies: a true sense of love for the man from both sides of the aisle. I count myself among those who loved him. He may not have known it, but I’m comforted that he is reunited with the Lord and those he has loved and lost. One thing is certain, and it’s that my life is forever richer for having known and been inspired by Lindsey Olin Graham.

T.W. Arrighi is a Republican strategist who served as the communications director for Senator Lindsey Graham’s 2020 re-election campaign.