One vote at a time

Michael J. Mishak

Sunday, June 17, 2007 | 7:02 a.m.

Bill Richardson arrived in a riot of flashing lights from a law enforcement escort.

The New Mexico governor and Democratic presidential aspirant stepped from a black SUV into 105-degree heat Wednesday for the official "canvass kickoff" of his Nevada campaign.

"You guys gonna get me votes?" he said to the three dozen campaign volunteers who looked, appropriately, as if they dressed for a desert hike. Richardson, in suit and tie, worked the crowd, shaking hands in quick succession and gushing: "I love those T-shirts. I'm proud of you guys. We're going to win this thing."

He made his way up the driveway of a house in downtown Las Vegas to meet his first official supporter, a blind man flanked by his dog. The two men talked, and the Las Vegan was soon handed a clipboard with a voter registration form.

"I appreciate your support," Richardson said, as TV cameras looked on. "I've got to get you to sign this thing. How do we do that?"

The governor grasped the man's pen and guided his hand across the signature block. "We're going to be a champion for the disabled," Richardson said. "I promise that."

With that, Richardson was on to the next house - and then, in a blink, he was done. In all, he had been outside 10 minutes, not long enough to really break a sweat. (It did look good on TV, though.)

"Get those votes," Richardson told the group before climbing back into the Dodge Ram. "That's what I have to do. I have to go get more votes."

What he really meant was "more cash." Richardson was off to the second of three fundraisers that day. The whirlwind day also took him to an elementary school in North Las Vegas, two union halls and a meeting of gay and lesbian activists.

Richardson is among a handful of candidates in the second-tier of his party's field, without the name recognition and financial advantages of front-runners Sens. Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama. As such, Richardson is running a true grass-roots campaign, distinguishing himself from rivals who are either running well-funded top-heavy operations or have yet to set up shop in the state.

Richardson's kind of campaigning is a long slog. Later, at an appearance before the Stonewall Democratic Club of Southern Nevada, the packed schedule took its toll.

"I'm outworking everybody," Richardson told the crowd of about 50 people. "I was out canvassing door to door today," he said. Then he paused, searching for details. "I was out in Las Vegas, or North Las Vegas, or wherever I was."

Soon Richardson, a former ambassador to the United Nations, found himself at a loss to name the fifth member of the U.N. Security Council with veto power.

"France!" an audience member yelled.

Yes, yes, France.

Richardson scored points with the crowd for his record on gay issues as governor of New Mexico, his push to repeal the military's "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy, and his support for federal legislation that would allow gay Americans to petition for immigration sponsorship for their partners.

Richardson wasn't alone in looking for Nevada votes last week. Clinton sent a video and campaign aides to the Stonewall Democrats meeting, and Obama dispatched his wife, Michelle, to speak to more than 100 women at the Cambridge Recreation Center.

After , in a scene that has played out for her husband time and again, Michelle Obama was mobbed. Women climbed onto chairs to snap photos, thrust babies into her arms and waved copies of her husband's book in hope of scoring a matching autograph.

As the crowd thinned, a few stragglers followed Obama outside. One supporter, a short older woman, crushed her with a bear hug. "You give me hope," she exclaimed.

The experience even had some Republicans talking conversion.

"We need a change," Ruthie Byers said. "There's only one Republican in the race who hasn't been divorced - and he's Mormon."