U.S. FUGITIVE FEELS AT HOME IN B.C.

Judge is expected to rule this week on whether to order Allen Richardson to
U.S.

The man with the short, greying hair, sensible tie and tweed jacket looks
nothing like a convicted drug dealer and escaped felon hunted for three
decades by the United States.

As he sits holding his wife's hand, Allen Richardson looks like what he is:
a soft-spoken, 50-year-old lab technician who is active in the SPCA, a
bluegrass group, and a vintage car club.

But now New York state wants him returned to the U.S. to finish serving a
four-year sentence he was given nearly 30 years ago for selling $20 worth
of LSD while a hippie, anti-war protester at university.

"I feel very much like I am at home here [in B.C.] I wish nothing more than
to resolve both my situation in the United States and my situation here in
Canada, and remain with my wife, who I love dearly," an emotional
Richardson said.

"I can't do any more and we just have to live through it."

Richardson, who changed his name and illegally entered this country after
escaping from jail, is now also battling with Canadian Immigration to
remain in B.C.

"It's very stressful," said his wife of six years, Amalia Richardson, who
has endured a 13-year battle with breast cancer. "We have a very strong
relationship. I am very grateful to have Allen."

A county judge in Rochester, N.Y. is expected to rule this week whether to
order Richardson to return to the U.S. to serve the remaining 31U2 years of
his jail time. His lawyers have argued the "unduly harsh, cruel and
unusual" sentence should be reduced or eliminated.

"My client was a student radical, he was an anti-war protester," lawyer
Michael Bolton said.

"He was given a very high sentence, in part because of his vociferous
student activities in speaking out again the war."

Richardson's story begins in 1970, when he was a photography student named
Christopher Perlstein -- his birth name -- at the Rochester Institute of
Technology.

Born to a middle-class family in the suburbs of New York City, he lobbied
at university against the Vietnam War through campus radio stations,
rallies, posters and underground newspapers.

In an affidavit filed in New York State Supreme Court, Richardson said his
role in the counter-culture included "outlandish appearance, music and use
of so-called consciousness altering drugs."

A young man without a criminal past or any history of truant behaviour,
Richardson wrote that he had a childlike naivete about his activities. "In
the milieu of recreational drug use" in the university dormitories, he
said, he was arrested for selling seven hits of acid for $20 to an
undercover police officer.

Convicted in 1971 and sentenced to Attica, a particularly brutal U.S.
prison, Richardson was suddenly thrust into a life of fear and violence.

"I was forced to defend myself from both the attentions of those who,
attracted by my youth, wished to rape and sodomize me, and those who merely
wished to brutalize me for the sake of whatever unknown status this
conferred in the hierarchy of prison life, whether they be guards or
inmates," he said in the affidavit.

He witnessed a prisoner being killed, and sought protection by associating
himself with a group of radicals led by Sam Melville, who had bombed the
Chase Manhattan Bank.

After serving six terrifying weeks in Attica, Richardson was transferred to
the Camp Georgetown work camp in central New York. A short time later, a
revolt erupted at Attica, led, in part, by Melville, which left 43
prisoners dead.

Because of Richardson's association with Melville, guards at the work camp
told him he would be sent back to Attica where "they knew how to deal with
people like me.

"The terror that I would be once again placed into that living hell
... galvanized me into action," the affidavit said.

Along with another young prisoner, Richardson walked from a forest work
site on the U.S. border and slipped into Canada to start a new life.

The affidavit said a sympathetic, anti-war group in Canada helped him
obtain a new identify and rebuild his life, despite being unable to refer
to his schooling or previous jobs.

Immigration Canada believes the fugitive obtained a false passport by
locating the death records of an Allen Richardson who died in the
1970s. Murray Wilkinson, acting coordinator of hearings for Immigration
Canada, said such a move was easier then, before the age of computer
cross-referencing.

After a time of struggle and poverty, Richardson was employed from 1975 to
1980 as a dark room technician for various Vancouver companies, and then
spent two years making musical instruments.

In 1982, he was hired by his current employer, TRIUMF, the University of
B.C.-affiliated research facility that specializes in particles and nuclear
physics.

Richardson, who works as a senior engineering technician, is also a
director with the West Vancouver SPCA, founded the Pacific Bluegrass and
Heritage Society to promote bluegrass music, and was president of the
Vintage Racing Club of B.C.

He was married for 22 years to his first wife Louise, with whom he had an
"amicable" separation. He now lives a quiet life with Amalia in their
stunning West Vancouver home, nestled in the mountains that Richardson
loves to climb.

But he said his world crashed last December, when an informant tipped
American authorities about his whereabouts and the RCMP arrested him at work.

"After 30 years, I, in truth, never dreamed that my past would come to
haunt us," wrote Richardson, who said he has not touched drugs since 1970.

Bruno Gasbarri, a workmate at TRIUMF who praised Richardson's intelligence
and personality, is still shocked by the arrest.

"We came into our office together when the RCMP officer basically said he
wanted to speak with Allen and told me to leave," Gasbarri recalled. "The
next thing I saw was Allen being led off in cuffs."

Richardson, now on a leave of absence from TRIUMF, was ordered removed from
Canada at an immigration inquiry Jan. 21. Wilkinson said laws prohibit
people who have been convicted of crimes abroad from entering Canada unless
they get special permission.

His removal from the country has been delayed because he has made a refugee
claim, but Wilkinson said that may be challenged because Canada "can't be
perceived as a safe haven for criminals, no matter how minor an offence."

However, if his claim for refugee status is rejected, he can still seek to
remain in Canada under humanitarian and compassionate grounds.

"I just hope the Canadian government ... can look at his past history: the
man has been a law-abiding, tax-paying member of the society. If you're
looking at someone to be a Canadian, what better qualities would you be
looking for?" Gasbarri said.

Richardson's lawyers say their client is not under any "imminent threat" of
removal from Canada, but the ruling later this week by a judge in New York
could help his claim.

While his lawyers asked a New York court earlier this week to have his
sentence lowered or erased, the state wants Richardson returned to serve
the rest of his sentence.

The Canadian department of justice says it will not get involved in the
case unless the federal U.S. government tries to extradite Richardson.

Meanwhile, the district attorney in Rochester, Howard Relin, rejects
suggestions that Richardson was targeted for anti-war actions and that his
sentence was unduly harsh.

He argued Richardson must be brought back to the U.S. to face his past to
maintain respect for the U.S. judicial system.

"We've never had a case where somebody is gone for this length of time --
28 years," Relin said. "It's one of the more unusual cases that we've had."

He noted Richardson's background has been "exemplary" over the last three
decades and said it is possible he could serve the rest of his sentence --
possibly only three or four months -- in Canada.

"That might be a feasible way to do it without disrupting his life too
much," Relin said.

But Debby Heiliger, a friend who works at the SPCA, said Richardson is "the
nicest man" who needs to be with his ailing wife. "I think it's really
silly. That offence nowadays would be almost negligible. It's quite
astounding that they would make such a big deal of this."

Bob Hilton, Richardson's supervisor at TRIUMF, said the case is ridiculous.

"Allen is not a drug dealer. It's not fair it's been tracked down over this
length of time."

For Richardson's part, he is grateful for his friends' support and said in
the affidavit he is sorry for his mistake.

"I can only wonder how much suffering is required to be placed in the
balance before my ancient debt, born of youthful folly and passion, is
considered paid."