THE BORDER REPORT

I first met indicted Congressman Rick Renzi when I was a reporter at the Arizona Daily Sun in Flagstaff, like a hundred years ago, it seems sometimes. It was a big deal; the gerrymandering had created a new congressional district back in 2002, CD-1, and he was up against a San Francisco Democrat, George Cordova. The entire campaign reeked of capo-style politicking. Renzi had opened a sausage company in town that doubled as his campaign headquarters. It was part of his effort to demonstrate his Arizona ties, that and his family's winery in Sonoita. The Republicans were hungry for him to take that seat. At one point, Pres. George Bush blew into town to stump for him but you couldn't see the president unless you signed up for a ticket to the Coconino County Fairgrounds first. All part of the security detail's plan to keep the president safe in a time of terror, we were told. Maybe, maybe not. Presidential visits to small towns used to be grand affairs with parades and whatnot. This had the air of a backroom deal under tightly-controlled conditions. There was a lot at stake in that election and the state and federal Republicans spent $3 million to ensure their Republican got that seat. Attack ads spawned nearly overnight, calling the Democrat a thief, a liar and a cheat. For whatever reason, the Dems didn't see much use in propping Cordova up, but that's politics for you. I was a pretty novice reporter then and when I was assigned to write a profile about Renzi, I tackled the assignment with all the gusto of youth (well, not that much youth, I was 30 at the time). What struck me was when I asked Renzi about his family life. He got his wife's last name wrong and couldn't remember what year they married. Nowadays, I'd be of the mind that that was something worth printing but at the time I figured the guy was just busy and not thinking of little details. I distinctly remember my interview with the guy the day he won the election. Sitting at a folding table inside the sausage factory, Renzi said he felt ashamed of the attack ads on Cordova and that one of his top priorities would be to replace the head of the Republican committee who ordered the hits on the Democrat. We stood up and I reached out to shake his hand; he glanced down at my offered hand, then turned around and walked away. Left me hanging, as they like to say. Watching him walk away, I got the message loud and clear: he was finished with me and no longer saw any reason to put up a polite front. What the hell, he'd won the election and what was I going to do, whine about the slight in print? Of course not. But it's those little details that people tend to remember about you. Especially when the Feds come calling with a 35-count indictment alleging extortion and embezzlement. Oh, don't get me wrong; I derive no satisfaction from Renzi's legal woes – though I thought his lawyers' remarks to the Washington Post that they were disappointed in the Justice Department's timing because he was still mourning his father's passing, sounded rather desperate. No, I'm not pleased to see this story at all, but that brief encounter is just something I remembered when I heard the Feds' announcement this morning.

-- Michel Marizco