With Energy To Spare

-- Rich Giacchetti, Richardson's Tufts baseball teammate.

* * *

Lanky to the point of thin, generally quiet and reserved if always amiable, Bill Richardson in 1968 bore little resemblance to the gregarious and relentless politician/public servant we see today. That year, college campuses foamed with agitation over U.S. involvement in Vietnam. Yet Richardson displayed none of his later appetite for foreign policy, taking no part in the frequent bull sessions and occasional demonstrations over the war.

The civil rights movement intensified and on campus some minorities began to pull away, seeking their own society. Yet Richardson, while distinctly Hispanic, remained just one of the guys in our fraternity. He decided to stand for fraternity president. To the extent that our gentle election had themes, his opponent advocated broader political involvement. Meanwhile, Bill avoided most politics other than a general interest in social issues and a particular concern to bar recreational drugs from the house. Bill won, handily defeating me in what was to be his first election and my last.

-- Robert Fitts, Richardson's Tufts classmate.

* * *

I met Bill soon after President Jimmy Carter nominated me to be the assistant administrator of USAID for Latin America in February 1977. A friend suggested that I meet Bill, the foreign relations aide to Sen. Hubert Humphrey, when I made courtesy calls before my confirmation hearing. It snowed the day before my appointment with Humphrey and many people had not made it to the office that Friday morning, but Bill was waiting for me when I arrived. I saw a tall, imposing figure in a corduroy jacket and boots. He looked more like a Hispanic ranchero than a legislative aide. As we waited for Humphrey to arrive, I told Bill that I was unaware that there were any Mexican Americans in Minnesota and asked how he had come to work with Humphrey. He replied, "I am not from Minnesota, I am from New Mexico!" He said it with such assurance and conviction that I assumed he had been born and raised there. Sometime later, I learned that he had visited New Mexico only twice before. But already, he had committed to adopting it as the state where he would pursue his political destiny, not knowing quite how but confident that he would find a way to win. It is this commitment and self-confidence -- combined with his ability to connect with voters of all backgrounds -- that I saw in Bill three decades ago and that I see in him as he pursues this greatest political challenge today.

-- Abelardo L. Valdez, former chief of protocol in the Carter administration.

* * *

When Bill Richardson was a little-known congressman, he called me to ask if I could help him get to Baghdad to negotiate the release of two Americans who had crossed the border from Kuwait and were now in the Abu Ghraib prison. No one was optimistic about the trip, but through Nizar Hamdoun, my friend and Iraq's ambassador at the United Nations, Richardson was eventually authorized to enter into talks. Three months later we all traveled to Baghdad. The deal had been cut, but a meeting with Saddam Hussein at which the release of the prisoners was to be formally requested was required.

A big man, Bill overflowed the modest chair at the start of the meeting. One arm was over the back and his legs were crossed. Suddenly Hussein got up and left the room. A nervous aide quickly explained that this was a formal audience. Bill's lounging posture was unacceptable. Hussein returned after Richardson's feet were firmly planted on the floor. Bill's charm and friendly style quickly dispelled whatever offense Hussein had taken. The Iraqi leader then gave a thoughtful 30-minute review of U.S.-Iraqi relations over the previous 20 years, coming perilously close to saying that his invasion of Kuwait had been a mistake. At the crucial moment he stopped and said, "Well, that's another story."