Former Senator Jesse Helms, an unyielding champion of the conservative movement who spent three combative and sometimes caustic decades in Congress, where he relished his battles against liberals, Communists and occasionally a fellow Republican, died on the Fourth of July. He was 86.

"It's just incredible that he would die on July 4th, the same day of the Declaration of Independence and the same day that Thomas Jefferson and John Adams died, and he certainly is a patriot in the mold of those great men," said former North Carolina GOP Rep. Bill Cobey.

An iconic figure of the South who let nothing silence the trumpet of his beliefs while in office, Helms had faded from public view as his health declined. He died of natural causes early Friday morning at the Raleigh convalescent home where he had lived for the past several years. "He was very comfortable," said former chief of staff Jimmy Broughton.

Funeral services are planned for Tuesday at Helms' longtime church in Raleigh.

The son of a police chief, North Carolina voters first learned of Helms through his newspaper and television commentaries. They were a harbinger of what was to come, as he won election to the Senate in 1972 and rose to become a powerful committee chairman before deciding not to seek a sixth term in 2002.

"Compromise, hell! ... If freedom is right and tyranny is wrong, why should those who believe in freedom treat it as if it were a roll of bologna to be bartered a slice at a time?" Helms wrote in a 1959 editorial.

Compromise, Helms would not.

His habit of blocking nominations and legislation during his first term led his former employer, The News & Observer of Raleigh, to nickname him "Senator No" -- and Helms loved it. He was unafraid of inconveniencing his fellow senators, forcing filibusters before holidays and once objecting to a request by phoning in his dissent from home while watching Senate proceedings on television.

Helms was a polarizing figure, both at home and in Washington. He delighted in forcing roll-call votes that required Democrats to take politically difficult votes on federal funding for art he deemed pornographic, school busing, flag-burning and other cultural issues. Among his first forays into politics was working in 1950 to elect segregationist candidate Willis Smith to the Senate, and he later fought against much of the civil rights movement.

In 1993, when then-President Clinton sought confirmation for an openly homosexual assistant secretary at the Department of Housing and Urban Development, Helms registered his disgust. "I'm not going to put a lesbian in a position like that," he said in a newspaper interview at the time. "If you want to call me a bigot, fine."

"When he wrote his book, 'Here's Where I Stand,' I felt no book was needed," said North Carolina Sen. Elizabeth Dole, who won Helms' seat after he retired in 2002. "(My husband) Bob would say, 'You don't have to look under the table for Jesse. You always knew where Jesse is."'

But Helms wasn't entirely inflexible, especially in his later years in the Senate, where he worked with Democrats to restructure the foreign policy bureaucracy and pay back debts to the United Nations, an organization he disdained for most of his career. After years of clashes with gay activists, he softened his views on AIDS and advocated greater federal funding to fight the disease in Africa and elsewhere overseas, and in doing so, struck up an enduring and unlikely friendship with U2 frontman Bono.

"There was trouble in my band for even having the meeting with the senator," Bono said in a 2008 documentary, recalling the objections of his bandmate, Edge. "And I said, 'It's worse than that, Edge. He's coming to the gig.' He said, 'There's no way Jesse Helms is coming to the U2 show and I said, 'He is."'

At the show, Helms marveled at the U2 fans waving their hands like a field of corn blowing in the wind. "He said, 'I had to turn my hearing aid down, in fact I had to turn it off,"' Bono said.

Helms served as chairman of the Agriculture and Foreign Relations committees at times when the GOP held the Senate majority. He used the posts to protect his state's tobacco growers and other farmers, and placed his stamp on foreign policy with a strident opposition to Communism.

"Under his leadership, the Senate Foreign Relations Committee was a powerful force for freedom," said President Bush. "And today, from Central America to Central Europe and beyond, people remember: in the dark days when the forces of tyranny seemed on the rise, Jesse Helms took their side."

He took a dim view of many arms control treaties, and supported the contras in Nicaragua as well as the right-wing government of El Salvador. He opposed the Panama Canal treaties that then-President Carter pushed through a reluctant Senate in 1977.

As Fidel Castro's fierce critic, Helms helped create legislation in 1996 to strengthen U.S. restrictions against the Caribbean island's communist government. The Helms-Burton law bars the United States from normalizing relations with Cuba as long as Castro or his brother Raul -- who has been president since February -- are involved in the island nation's government.

In his memoirs, Helms made clear that his opinions on other issues had hardly moderated since he left office. He likened abortion to the Holocaust and the Sept. 11 terror attacks.

"I will never be silent about the death of those who cannot speak for themselves," he wrote in "Here's Where I Stand."

Helms was born in Monroe on Oct. 18, 1921. He attended both Wingate College and Wake Forest College, but never graduated and went on to serve in the Navy during World War II. He worked as Smith's top staff aide for a time after his election, then returned to Raleigh as executive director of the state bankers association.

Helms became a member of the Raleigh city council in 1957 and got his first public platform for espousing his conservative views when he became a television editorialist for WRAL in Raleigh in 1960. He also wrote a column that at one time was carried in 200 newspapers.

Helms and his wife, Dorothy, had two daughters and a son. They adopted the boy in 1962 after the child, 9 years old and suffering from cerebral palsy, said in a newspaper article that he wanted parents. That story stood out for Dole and others Friday, as they said that for all of Helms' political bombast, he should be remembered first as a considerate and compassionate person.