My grandfather was a freelance writer, a man who spent his days immersed in books and ideas. He was one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever known and remains a deep source of inspiration in my life. I have vivid memories of lying on the floor in his office, surrounded by books, tapping away on his old, dusty computers. His curiosity for anything meaningful left a lasting impression on me — a quiet inheritance of wonder.
When he passed away, it felt like the world turned its gaze directly toward me, not with sympathy, but with something darker. It wasn’t that everything turned black and white — it felt even darker than that. Grieving someone so important at a young age was overwhelming, and it forced me to confront the concept of time in a way I hadn’t before. That’s when everything began to change.
I started taking apart computers, fascinated by their inner workings — the puzzles, the logic, the science. I remember asking myself, “What is RAM?” Why is memory called “random access,” and why does that randomness feel so familiar to me? Like a mind sorting through distant thoughts, recalling moments out of order — I saw myself in those machines.
Life often presents a one or a zero. You either get up and do something, or you don’t. Stay in bed, or explore the world. I often felt like I was choosing the wrong bit — until one day, I flipped it. That’s when I decided: “I want to be like him.” Even knowing deep down I’ll never become a fraction of what he was. I’ll never be him, no matter how hard I try. But I can try my best.
Those old, dusty computers from his office had become something more than just relics of the past. They were a part of his world, and by exploring them, I was continuing the dialogue we had started in silence — through curiosity, wonder, and the pursuit of understanding. In a way, learning about computers felt like a way to keep learning from him.
But time keeps moving — and even computers, once so full of mystery, no longer feel like enough. To honor what he passed down to me, I know I must go further.
By Cameron LeCompte
Writer and Editor, The Federalist View
August 27, 2025