On Friday, I was privileged to get a glimpse into the personal side of Bill Richardson.  It's part of his personality that is never far from the publc side, as we already know we have a candidate who wears his heart on his sleeve.  He is, at once, both personable and pragmatic - necessary elements of a great leader, diplomat, and negotiator.  I have often heard people remark that he has the "Bill Clinton charisma", the ability to make you feel like you are the only person in the universe when he stops to shake your hand.

But Friday was special.  About 250 of us were provided the rare opportunity to glimpse into the Governor's heart, and it was an amazing experience.  In East Los Angeles, we are privileged to have the only publicly funded monument and memorial to those who have lost their lives to HIV and AIDS.  Consisting of eight wall panels, six murals depict life with AIDS in the Latino community and two granite panels bookend the murals, and contain the names of individuals who have died from AIDS. The monument also includes a serene park setting with benches and an archway set in garden areas for personal meditation.

The final mural installation, dedicated to Children with AIDS, was unveiled Friday in a moving ceremony that included members of the clergy, AIDS activists, elected officials, community folk, and as the special guest speaker, Governor Bill Richardson.  A number of our volunteers and supporters were in attendance, but this was not a usual campaign appearance.  In fact, a yard sign or banner, or anything more than a lapel sticker would have been glaringly out of place.  This was a solemn occasion, a time of remembrance and reflection, and a call for a renewed fight and dedication to eradicating this deadly disease.

This was also a special event for Governor Richardson, as one of the newest names installed on the Wall was Billy Griego, one of the Governor's earliest supporters and volunteers when he was running for Congress.  Billy had such an impact on the Richardson's  that when legislation was proposed in New Mexico to aggressively provided services and research in the ongoing battle against AIDS, the Governor had the bill named the "Billy Griego HIV Act".  Friday, we got to hear the story of Billy Griego from the Governor's own lips

I have heard the Governor speak many, many times; but nothing like this.  In quiet, hushed tones, flanked by 30 or so ministers of various faiths and denominations, the Governor told of meeting Billy, of how he worked and worked for the congressional election, and then the sense that something was dreadfully wrong.  Finally, in the last year of Billy's life, his ability to talk about his disease with his family, friends, and then Congressman Richardson.  As the Governor reflected on Billy, his voice cracked, and we knew he was speaking straight from his heart.  There was not a dry eye in the place.  I watched as hardened TV cameramen were wiping their eyes.

As the beautiful, toucing mural was unveiled, the Governor walked to where he wanted to be, the most important part of this visit.  He went to the panel in the wall where Billy Greigo's name had been etched in stone, flanked by red roses in honor and memory of Billy.  As the Governor slowly rubbed his hand over the name, it was as if no one else was around but Bill Richardson and his memories of his friend.  In this sacred place, it was as if the Governor was renewed with a fervor to the words he had so eloquently delivered a few minutes earlier:  "We can do better.  We must do better."

I am 55 years old, and have been involved in politics for most of my life.  Having heard candidates and elected officials more times than I care to remember, there is little that moves me anymore.  I was moved on Friday, and I knew I had been at a special place.  I am so thankful to have been there.