Jon Huntsman Sr. died last week at age 80, a generous and dedicated philanthropist and a hero to many.

“The world got a little bit dimmer because we lost truly, truly a great man,” Glenn said. “I’ve never met a greater man. I’ve never met a more giving man and a more forgiving man.”


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Glenn took the opportunity to read a moving letter from a listener seeking help, encouraging the audience to follow Huntsman’s example by learning to forgive and by being honest with ourselves and others.

“Dedicate yourself to asking the hardest, most honest questions that you can,” Glenn said. “Be the opposite of what the world is.”

EDITOR'S NOTE: This article provided courtesy of TheBlaze.

PAUL J. RICHARDS/AFP/Getty Images

This is a rush transcript and may contain errors.

GLENN: Something I haven’t mentioned this week, and I’m going to address tomorrow. Over the weekend, the world got a little bit dimmer because we lost truly, truly a great man. His name is Jon Huntsman, Sr. If you are a — a long-time listener of this program, he has appeared on my program several times. And the reason why I haven’t talked about it is, I tend to get a little emotional.

He, in many ways, was a father figure in my life at exactly the time I needed a father figure. And it’s — it’s just — it’s just a complex thing.

I’m going to his funeral on Saturday. And I — we never had a funeral for my father. We weren’t allowed to because of a family squabble. So we — I never attended, neither did my sisters or anything, to memorialize my father’s passing.

So I’m a little nervous about Saturday. Because I’ve never met a greater man.

I’ve never met a — never met a more giving man and a more forgiving man.

That’s one thing that we really have a hard time with, is forgiveness. I talked about it on Monday. Forgiveness — forgiveness is hard because — because we want other people to pay. You know.

I’m having a hard time right now with the press. Because, you know, they’re questioning the president. Is he a racist? They’re questioning the president saying, you know, is he a totalitarian dictator? All the things that we were afraid of under Obama. And we weren’t allowed to say it. And now that they’re saying it, I — I am so — I can’t even get past it, and I have to. I can’t get past the fact, are you kidding me?

And if I can’t get past that — but I want them to say it. And they’re not going to. And that is — that’s the thinking of a madman, trying to — I got to let go of the things that I can’t control.

But forgiving each other and forgiving yourself is really hard. Really hard. Because as I pointed out earlier this week, forgiveness requires two things: self-worth and humility. Being humble enough to say, hey, I understand.

And having enough self-worth when it comes to you, that you — you deserve forgiveness. They never go hand in hand. And they have to.

I talked about this. And then I got a — I got a phone call at the end of the show, two hours later, from a former vet who was distraught. And said, you know, I only listen to you from time to time, and I didn’t — I never expected to get anything from you.

And thank you. He said, I realized — and he had pulled his truck over. And he had sat there for about an hour and a half crying, and he said, I realize how much I hate myself. And I hate myself because I feel — I don’t feel useful. I feel worthless.

I served — I was in the military, and I served. And now I come back and I’m not. And I hate myself.

I have gone through that. I’m a recovering alcoholic, and I hated myself so much because of the lies I told myself. You’re weak. You’re pathetic. You can’t even make it a day without a drink. You promised yourself last night or yesterday morning, when you got up, that you weren’t going to drink yesterday.

And then you did. You made some excuse. I know. I know. Well, I’m not going to drink today. And then I would drink. And I hated myself.

Actually, every time I walked into my bathroom, I had to open up my mirror so I didn’t look myself in the eye anymore. I could not look myself in the eye.

That was the end. That was the end. And I didn’t know how to get out of it. And I had no self-worth. And there was no forgiveness for me. I wasn’t worthy, and I hated people.

No, I didn’t. No, I didn’t. I hated myself.

It’s kind of what this veteran said when he called this week. And I understood. And we’ve gotten an awful lot of email on it.

One stuck out to me. And I want to read it to you.

Dear Mr. Beck, my name is Hannah Hastings. I’m engaged to an amazing man. Kyle listens to your podcast faithfully every single morning, to the point of sometimes, I just can’t shut him up about his heroes Pat and Stu and you.

He’s a huge fan of all of you. And on most days, your podcast moves him to tears. Kyle is a veteran of the United States Marine Corps. He served four years and went on two deployments overseas, one of the two times to Iraq.

Today, he listened in. And he was moved — he was moved at hearing that veteran speak because that’s exactly the way he feels.

I think whether he’ll address it or not, his wounds go a lot deeper than his pride will let him show. Kyle is an amazing, wonderful man. However, like the fellow veteran said on your show this morning, he feels useless now. He served. And now he feels as if he has nothing to show for it other than a couple of ribbons and a certification of completion. This veteran of mine is worth so much more than he knows.

I’m writing to you, hoping that maybe you’ll give him a shout-out on the show one morning, just to let him know that you his hero knows that he exists and he is not alone. As I’m typing this in the other room, I’m listening to the strongest men sniffle and break down over somebody financially understanding exactly how he feels.

Thank you for your time. I want to acknowledge that you’ve made an impact on somebody else’s life just by being you. Would you please keep him in your prayers? I hope God can touch you and others in the way he’s touched me by gracing me with Kyle now in my life. Thanks, Hannah Hastings, Fort Wayne, Indiana.

Kyle, I got this letter three days ago. And I’ve been writing back and forth with your fiancé. The first thing you need to do is marry that woman. She loves you.

I want you to know that while I can’t relate to your military experience, and honestly I praise God for that, I do understand your feelings.

I want you to know, in the early ’90s, I had a moment where I had to choose life or death. And my mom committed suicide.

And I was at about her same age, that when she committed suicide and I had to choose. And I had no idea how to live. I had no idea how to be happy. I had no idea to be a good man, a good father, none of it.

I was completely lost. And I knew that night it was a Christmas Eve. I knew that night that I would either live or die. That I either had to pick myself up and figure out how to live, or just lay down and die.

Because of my childhood, some would say it made it easier to lay down and die. But because of my childhood, I knew that suicide was not an answer. It was the most selfish thing that could happen.

And I was a coward. I couldn’t do it. So I decided to stand. And I wish I could tell you that the next day, everything was great. But it wasn’t. It was kind of the same.

Except for one thing: I had made a choice. And I was determined to find a way.

Question with boldness, even the very existence of God, for if there be a God, he must surely rather honest questions over blindfolded fear.

Dedicate yourself to asking the hardest, most honest questions that you can. Ask them of yourself. Ask them of others.

Be the opposite of what the world is. Don’t try to win. Just try to find out the truth. Try to reconcile that truth with your life.

I will make you this promise, Kyle. That if you dedicate yourself to finding the truth with humility, by asking honest questions, a year from now, your life is going to start blossoming. You will see Hannah in an entirely new light. You’ll see the world as it really is.

You have tremendous, tremendous value. I am a firm believer that we were all born at this time for a reason. And no matter who you are, your reason has not yet happened.

Spend every second of this short life, trying to make the best of it and the most of it. Because when you get to the other side, I think you’ll be surprised, holy crap. It was that? That was my reason?

Wow. But look at all the other things that I got to do. And I experienced because I was honestly searching for a better way to live.