BACK IN CANADA'S EMBRACE

West Vancouver's Allen Richardson is waking up to glorious views of Howe
Sound instead of the bleak walls of a crowded New York prison dormitory.

The 51-year-old research technician is a free man today after spending nine
months behind bars for a minor drug offence he committed 30 years ago.

"It's wonderful to be back on Canadian soil," a tired but happy Richardson
said yesterday as he petted his dog Luke at Vancouver International
Airport. "It's nice to be free of the past."

That past involved a young, Rochester, N.Y., student protester named
Christopher Samuel Perlstein, convicted and jailed for four years in 1971
for selling LSD worth $20 to an undercover cop.

After spending time at the brutal Attica State Prison, Perlstein fled a
prison camp, came to Canada and changed his identity to model citizen Allen
Richardson.

Richardson is looking forward to resuming that role, working at University
of B.C.'s TRIUMF lab and volunteering with the West Vancouver SPCA.

His model life came to a temporary end when he turned himself in to a New
York judge in July to serve the time he still owed.

He said he was treated fairly at Woodbourne Correctional Institute near New
York City, where he served most of his sentence.

"It's an experience that you have to take day by day in order to get
through," he said of his life behind bars. "I was always confident, with
the support of my wife and all my friends and colleagues, it would work out
in the end."

It was particularly tough for Richardson's wife, 52-year-old Amalia,
battling breast cancer and mourning the death of her mother in the midst of
the ordeal.

"I think he's the bravest man in the world," she said, after the pair flew
in from JFK Airport yesterday. "It's hard to think of going back to a
fairly tough prison after 30 years, and to do it voluntarily and stick it
out, and he did it."

Richardson will serve his parole under the supervision of the B.C.
Corrections Branch and must report every two weeks until March 24, 2004,
say New York parole officials.

He was allowed back into Canada on a ministerial permit.

On Friday, Amalia goes before an immigration and refugee appeal board,
seeking to be allowed to sponsor him as a permanent resident.

For now, he says, he wants "a couple of weeks breather" before going back
to work at UBC, where his job has been held for him.

"I've missed being a decent productive person in a normal environment," he
said.

He says it's hard to imagine the teenager he was back in the '60s.

"That was something that happened to me 30 years ago that, in truth, seemed
to happen to a different person, that I no longer know and I can barely
remember," he said.

Does he regret fleeing jail?

"I don't like second-guessing any decision I make in life," he said. "You
make a decision when you're young, you're more rash, more adventurous,
bolder and, maybe, terrified. I've had to live with that decision."

He said the experience has taken its toll on both him and his wife.

"She's travelled once a month down to visit me in a very uncompromising
environment," he said. "To see your husband locked up like that, it's been
a tremendous strain. She's had a lot of support and we'll have to heal
ourselves . . . the healing process has already begun."

Richardson says he has no plans to write a book "because I would like to
end this and become what I was before and not be forever tagged as this
fugitive refugee."

Eventually, he said, he hopes to become a Canadian citizen.

"I'm Canadian Allen Richardson," he added. "Canada has been wonderful to us
and they've been very understanding and they've taken this humanitarian,
compassionate approach."

Amalia said the couple was looking forward to "going home and sitting there
and letting Allen find his way around the house again, having a glass of wine."

She said that when he walked out of Woodbourne prison near New York City on
Friday morning with a small bag over his shoulder, he waved to his fellow
inmates and climbed in the car.

"I think he said, 'Let's get out of here,' something like that," she said.
"He's a hero, I think. He looks OK. He's a bit thinner. He hasn't had a
decent meal and he hasn't had a decent bed and now he can relax and eat
with a knife and fork.

"Tonight I'm going to roast something. We're going to enjoy a good dinner,
a glass of wine, the sunset and a rest."