Literary lion and libertarian freedom advocate Mario Vargas Llosa died Sunday at his home in Lima, Peru. He was 89.

His literary legacy, derived from the works of William Faulkner, and his central role in fostering "the boom" in great Latin American literary writers, which also included Carlos Fuentes and Gabriel Garcia Marquez, assures his place in libraries, literary discussions, and history books. And his great literature on the nature of dictators, the crazed political correctness of left-wing splinter groups, and many more topics on human nature will remain with us forever. His courageous and direct denunciations of Latin America's most repellent dictators, such as Hugo Chavez, long before others were doing so, will always be memorable, particularly to Venezela's and Cuba's long-suffering freedom fighters. And that he once gave loudmouth socialist Garcia Marquez a shiner after the latter reportedly insulted his wife will satisfy many others.

But actually, he will be missed. He was also a wonderful person. I met him a few times, at conferences and through friends of friends, and I cherish those encounters. I like to think of him, not just the literary lion, but the kind, cordial person that he was. His greatness never obscured that he was a kind and warm person, with a lovely family, in real life.

As the giant passes, I recall these vignettes about him:

When Vargas Llosa was finally awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature, all was well in the world. Fireworks went off in every Latin American country. There was big joy in the libertarian community, because Mario was a powerful speaker against tyrants, once mixing it up with Hugo Chavez and I recall, challenging him to a debate. Chavez said he wanted to throw him into prison, which was about par for Chavez, who frankly feared him. Nobel Laureate Gabriel Garcia Marquez tweeted a reconciliation of sorts after the 1968 punchout, saying something to the effect that we are finally even.

I was an editorial writer at Investor's Business Daily and I recall that I really wanted to write about this great event, the Earth righting itself on its axis, which my editor, Wes Mann, kindly let me do, remarking that he kind of liked the guy because he was always photographed wearing a suit and tie. Next day, we found out that I was not the only one -- a lot of people wanted to write about this writer that my editor was only vaguely familiar with. A ton of them. He kindly relented and let us run more than one editorial about it.

Then we noticed something weird: The Wall Street Journal's editorial page, which was a rival of sorts, had the exact same issue -- and they ended up running more than one editorial/op-ed about the great news about Mario Vargas Llosa winning the Nobel prize. So, they ran more than one, too.

It kind of says something.

I got to meet the great man, first, in Santiago, Chile, at a conference where I met a lot of Latin America's great leaders. He gave a fun talk exclusively with us reporters from around the region and I got to chat and take a selfie with him, but also mention how I was slightly reproached by a well-known Argentinian intellectual (who had exceptional language skills in both Spanish and English, by the way) for not reading Vargas Llosa's books in Spanish. I apologized to him that I had only read them in English, and I just loved Feast of the Goat. Mario abruptly objected to that, saying the Argentinian (whom he knew) was flat wrong. Emphatically, he said I should read his books in English! All authors love having their works translated and read in other languages, he explained. He was so charming -- and that was exciting to hear -- it did make sense when you think about it.

I got a second opportunity to meet Mario Vargas Llosa in Lima, Peru -- and a friend actually got me an invitation to his birthday party. That was exciting beyond anything I could think of. Hearing this beforehand, I lost a mountain of weight. I bought a prized designer dress I had wanted to be able to fit into, and did. And I actually wore a tiara to the event. I asked him if it would be O.K. to take another selfie with him because I was so fat the last time I saw him. Of course! He said I could use it as a before-and-after. When I saw him a couple days later at a conference -- he charmingly winked at me. I'm his fan forever.

When I got back to Los Angeles, where I lived at the time, I came through Customs alone, and as a female traveling alone, the Customs guys are always on the lookout for drug mules, so I get into lots of conversations with them. I was asked what I did there in Peru. Did I go to Machu Picchu? No, just Lima, I replied, but I did something even more amazing -- I met the great Mario Vargas Llosa, the greatest living writer in all Latin America and probably the world. "Never heard of him," the unimpressed Customs guy replied. I told him he should have.

I went back to work, and back to art class at Santa Monica College. I needed to produce a grayscale portrait in acrylic -- like, the next day.

From my own taken photos, I quickly drew and painted this, thinking it was way too hasty. But looking back, I kind of like it:

He's always a hero to me. And for a thousand reasons, he will be missed. RIP

Image: Monica Showalter