A number of readers have noted the absence of my byline on the American Thinker homepage, and those that investigated the “About Us” page saw that I am now credited as “Founder and Editor Emeritus.” Some have written AT asking what this is all about.

I didn’t want to distract from the campaign that concluded Tuesday, which I regarded as a battle to save the Republic, so I did not explain my departure to readers. Since that battle has concluded successfully (though control of the House of Representatives is still an open question), it is time to explain to our beloved community why I have bowed out and what it means for the future of American Thinker.

But first I must offer my own views of this site and its purpose. American Thinker was born of my conviction in the wake of the 9/11 attack that the grassroots conservative base was full of smart people whose voices remained invisible to the wider public. Among them were many who wanted and deserved a forum, but were unable to access a national platform. Why not start a place where people with good ideas and special insights arising from their life and professional experiences and accomplishments could find a home? I knew that many such people had ideas important to saving our country from the progressive takeover of our politics and institutions, even those who did not have confidence in their skills as writers. So a key to success would be the ability to edit submissions and help those writers find their voices.

So, with the help of my friends Richard Baehr and Ed Lasky, both of them brilliant and extremely well-read political junkies, I started American Thinker 21 years ago. They helped me pay for the original software we needed and diligently wrote material for us on a daily basis while we built a readership, and others started sending us material for editing and publication.

For me, this initially meant starting my workday at 3 AM so as to be able to provide new content for the site by the time people in the Eastern Time Zone started reading. (That later switched to 1 AM, fully embedding me in the graveyard shift.)

Twenty-one years later, still evading the graveyard for the moment, it was time for me to leave. Thanks to the incredibly hard-working editors that have joined us (and persisted in the face of low pay and demanding work schedules), my efforts were no longer absolutely necessary. They were, to be frank, able to not just sustain AT but to improve it following my departure.

But to be fully honest, there was one more factor that actually determined my departure: my failing health. Without that factor, I probably would have held on, maybe far too long.

Like many people, I am loath to discuss the details of my health, so I will keep this very basic. I do not want to discuss details. Period.

But the reality is that I have a terminal disease, one that is incurable, and for which there are no promising remedies in the foreseeable future. I am getting the best medical care the world has to offer and have a supportive family and community environment. While there are degenerative effects of my disease and I have lost and will continue to lose physical strength, endurance, and vigor, I am not in pain. I have already lived well beyond the median life expectancy following diagnosis for my disease. Double, in fact, and still counting.

I am spending as much of my time left as possible in a state of gratitude — for the readers and writers and especially for the editors who have made AT what it is today, as well as for many other private blessings that I have enjoyed, too numerous to even begin mentioning.

If you are so inclined, I would be grateful for any prayers for my health, as well as for continued support of American Thinker. But beyond that, I neither need nor want anything related to my illnesses.

I take comfort that my departure was invisible and of zero concern to almost all readers. That is a tribute to the talent, energy, and diligence of the editors who are devoting themselves to American Thinker. And I am deeply grateful to them.

Image by Phil Chernok.