I started this post trying to compile an encapsulating list of all of Richard M. Langworth’s spheres of engagement and achievement. That only served to remind me that I am neither appointed nor qualified to communicate the full measure of Richard’s life, which was nearly Churchillian in its scope and diversity.

In the weeks and months to come, much ink will be spilled in just praise of Richard, who died on 20 February 2025. It is simply as a citizen of the world in which he loomed so large – the world of remembering and interpreting the words and deeds of Winston Churchill – that I share a few words about Richard from my own perspective.

The images I choose to illustrate this post are of books – just a few among his dozens – that Richard authored, edited, introduced, or returned to publication, all of which have resided in my library.

The reason I came to know Richard’s work is because in 1968, two years before I was born, he founded the International Churchill Society (ICS) and became the founding editor of the flagship ICS publication, Finest Hour. By the time I found Churchill, Richard was already a long-established authority.

There are myriad ways I will remember Richard, but, fittingly, the book on my desk has been foremost in my mind these past two weeks as I reflect on his loss.

I have been a specialist dealer in Churchill material for roughly two decades. Increasingly, my business finds itself in the position of being asked questions about Churchill’s works and life. But the person of whom I still asked questions was Richard.

Winston Churchill’s life was rich and varied beyond reasonable conception. Naturally, it draws, even now, endless referential consideration and comment. In the world of people who claim to know Churchill’s life and work, there is presumption and then there is actual erudition. Beyond, there is a further difference between erudition and authoritative expertise. There is a still further level, for which I lack suitably venerable superlatives, and which I expect was occupied solely by Richard.

Among his many endeavors and accomplishments, Richard was a specialist dealer in Churchill material – a business from which he retired before I even began in the antiquarian book trade.

The book on my desk is not one of the many Richard authored or edited. Rather, it was one about which I had a question that I thought only Richard could answer. Asking him was on my to-do list, the book sitting on the corner of my desk as a reminder and prompt, when news of his death arrived.

There will be no answer to my question. I should put the book away, but there it remains, reminding me of the significance of Richard’s loss.