• The Nevada Appeal's Capitol reporter, Geoff Dornan, had covered Sen. Bill Raggio since Dornan was a student at the University of Nevada, Reno, and working for United Press International in the 1970s.
While everyone in the state knew the Bill Raggio from news stories or on TV, those of us who dealt with him regularly saw a very human, witty, personable man whose friendships lasted for decades.
His friend and longtime lieutenant in the Senate, Randolph Townsend, says most "never saw the humanity of this guy."
"His stature in life was staggering," said Townsend.
Most saw him as the consummate politician able to bring all sides to the table - and to agreement. Many who were contacted Friday described a brilliant intellect with a frightening memory and a deep understanding of state government, especially the budget.
"He was brilliant," said Legislative Counsel Bureau Director Lorne Malkiewich. "The analogy (was) of him playing chess while everyone else was playing checkers."
The other Bill Raggio was an old-fashioned gentleman who always remembered your name, who hand-wrote thank you notes, letters and birthday cards.
And he always had time for people - all people.
But he had no tolerance for rudeness - especially toward staff or state agency representatives.
"He treated staff with the utmost respect," said Gary Ghiggeri, who was Raggio's top fiscal analyst for more than a decade. "If you testified in front of his committee, he didn't let people berate people. He treated everyone fairly and with dignity."
He, too, described Raggio as brilliant.
There were several occasions in Senate Finance when, if presented with an idea that advocates said was new and innovative, he would calmly inform them that the same idea had been presented to lawmakers X-number of sessions ago.
Former Gov. Bob Miller, who was president of the Senate as lieutenant governor for two years and governor for 10, described working with Raggio as "a great learning experience for me, although I wanted to pull my hair out at times."
"He said recently that 'compromise' is not a dirty word," said Miller. "That doesn't seem to be the case so much anymore."
Nor did most Nevadans have the chance to experience Raggio's quick wit and sense of humor.
Raggio regularly played the skinflint, acting as though he didn't have a dime on him. One of his favorite tricks - usually aimed at other politicians - was to say: "I'm a little short right now. Could you give me a $20?"
Only after forking over the cash did the victim find out Raggio had no intention of paying it back. After all, he didn't say, "Loan me a $20." He said, "Give me a $20." Everyone - governors, fellow lawmakers and prominent businessmen - was fair game.
But the tightwad act was just that by a man friends knew as generous to a fault.
One of my favorite Raggio stories dates to the 1991 Legislature, when Democrats were in the majority. I called him out of a committee for an interview but, as he reached the door, the committee chairman, Sen. Len Nevin, called out: "Bill, you can't leave. We're voting on a bill."
"What is it?" Raggio asked.
"It's an arson bill," was the response.
Raggio turned to me, deadpan, and quietly said: "I have a conflict. I burn brothels."
That was a reference to an event during the early 1960s during his decades-long battle with brothel operator Joe Conforte. Raggio, then the Washoe district attorney armed with court orders allowing him to "abate a nuisance," put the torch to Conforte's original brothel.
In the 1999 session, frustrated while waiting for other members of Senate Finance to show up one morning, he told this reporter to go "round up a quorum." When asked by staff why he didn't have them do that, he said simply, "Dornan doesn't have to be polite to them."
After I brought him a quorum, he made a habit of having me chase down missing members, pointing out that it was in my interest since, until the meeting got under way, I didn't have a story.
Despite Raggio's being a staunch Republican - and, contrary to what the Tea Party thinks, a lifelong conservative - many of his friends and verbal sparring partners were Democrats. The list included the late Marvin Sedway when he chaired Ways and Means; and Oscar Goodman and his Assembly counterpart, Joe Dini, who was speaker of that body eight times.
"I'm going to miss Bill," said Dini. "We were opposites but became great friends."
As for the politics, Dini said, "He put the people's needs ahead of everything else."
As an example, Dini said, "He put up a big front against the teachers' union, but when it came down to making a decision, he came across because he knew the need was there."
Raggio resigned during the run-up to the 2011 Legislature, just two years short of 40 years in the Senate. The Senate honored him halfway through that highly contentious and partisan session by indicting him into the Hall of Fame. Talking with me after the ceremony, he said, "I'm looking like a genius for not being part of this."