Whitney Ball was always outraged for the right reasons and could be counted on to add the choicest comments to the latest political or cultural atrocity. She was bright, opinionated, well-informed, and dedicated to human liberty. She also was a great friend. Those who knew her and the liberty movement were made much worse off with her recent passing.

Whitney is one of the largely unknown political activists who did far more than her share to help others. She got into the movement early, working in Washington, D.C. at the National Journalism Center for the late M. Stanton Evans—a grand figure who linked the older, more traditional and newer, more assertive conservative movements. But Whitney never hesitated to take the lone road. She was rare, a libertarian and Christian. We met when she worked at Cato a couple decades ago. She exuded kindness and wit and was impossible to dislike.

She moved on to the Philanthropy Roundtable, a conservative counterpart for the liberal Council on Foundations. Then in 1999 Whitney launched her own venture, Donors Trust. From very modest beginnings—one account—DT turned into a major success. It hit roughly 200 contributors in 2013 and to date has channeled $740 million to the cause of liberty. There is a long history of freedom-minded donors’ money being effectively hijacked by left-wing activists and causes. Money created from the inspiration and sweat of past entrepreneurs now funds some of the organizations most determined to stifle a free economy. It turns out that those most adept at creating wealth often aren’t very good at controlling how it is distributed.

As Whitney later explained: “charitable capital that’s held in a vehicle like a private foundation often drifts away from the intent of its founding donor over time.” This sort of adverse capture almost always works against advocates of a free society, she added. Organizations dedicated to liberty gained enormously from Whitney’s efforts.

Despite her serious endeavors, she had a whimsical streak. She liked cows, for instance, and incorporated them in her home décor. She demonstrated notable self-control in halting at cow kitchenware rather than making the jump, as I did in other areas, to pricier and more serious antiques.

Unfortunately, very serious was the breast cancer which struck in 2001. She accepted the pain, inconvenience, and uncertainty with extraordinary grace and good humor. She joked about her loss of hair and wearing a wig and dispassionately described the side-effects of chemotherapy. But she never quit and emerged victorious. At least, as victorious as one ever can be against that horrid disease.
The cancer returned, more virulent than ever, which she fought with as much tenacity and cheerfulness as before. She was upbeat, funny, and determined to triumph again.
Alas, it was not to be. She fought to the end, dying at a far, far too young age of 52.

As I wrote in American Spectator online: “Whitney’s life is one that truly mattered. The freedom movement was more vibrant because of her efforts. The lives of her friends and family were much enriched because of her presence.”

Her death reminds us how easy it is to take those around us for granted. We only realize how badly we miss them when they leave us. So it is with Whitney.