In the Outback for Nov. 27, 2004 (www.home.earthlink.net/~rickhgtx/outbac97.html), I spoke about an Undersecretary of State for Administration who called me to his office at State one day to offer me a chance to switch from the CIA to the security division in State. I turned down the job, in large part because I knew his tenure would be limited and I did not want to be known "as the new guy the boss brought in." And I had a pretty low opinion of many people at the lower levels in State - not the security people - but on the diplomatic and consular side.

These people would be my customers, and I could see a lot of confrontations looming. I had always marched to my own drummer, even to a large extent in the CIA. In the Agency, they gave you a job, you went out and did it, and you did not end up in jail or on the front pages, you got to keep your job. No Civil Service to protect you if you were incompetent. Just don't screw up and you get to keep your job. A heck of a concept, either in government or the private sector.

Although I had run his name through Google before, I was saddened during a recent search to learn that my friend Idar Rimestad died in February of 2003. And even sadder, that his wife Ann, whom I knew, had died in 1979. A lovely lady.

Many, many years ago, I had an occasion to stay for several weeks in Idar and Ann's apartment in a European city where he was posted with the State Department. Idar was born in a small town in North Dakota and had attended the University of North Dakota. I was born in Iowa and spent most of my formative years in Minnesota, and had attended the university of Minnesota. We had an immediate affinity for each other. I was a medium-level CIA operator at the time. But we were two straight shooters from the Mid-West, who called a spade a spade.

Idar and I began to sit up late at night in the study, drink Cognac, and talk about a wide range of subjects. This was a fellow from the heartland of America who had none of the trappings of the Eastern Elite. We talked frankly and honestly about many things. When I told him that I had briefly dated Miss N. Dakota, when she was modeling in Minneapolis for the summer, he chuckled at that.

As the days passed by, I began to have enormous respect for his intellect and his common-sense approach to everything. He began to ask me, I who had been to law school, and one whom he deemed to be bright and well-versed in a variety of subjects; what the hell was I was doing picking locks and crawling into buildings in the middle of the night? I had no answer for that, because I asked myself the same question every day.

We ate most of our meals together, and Ann would bring home delicacies from the city in which we were living in Europe. By the time I packed my bag and left, I felt that Idar, Ann, and I were "new best friends." That was quite amazing, considering the disparity in our level in government.

It was a couple of years later, I think, and I was back in Washington, serving as a technical desk officer for a hot part of the world. I got a call one day from a lady who said that Under Secretary of State Rimestad wanted me to come by and chat. When I arrived at State, I was ushered into one of those cavernous offices that people of Idar's stature had. Probably on the seventh floor, as I recall. He greeted me like a long-lost buddy and before long got right to the point. He offered me an opportunity to transfer from CIA to State Department Security, where he thought I would have a bright future.

Idar had been appointed by President Lyndon Johnson to be Under Secretary of Administration for State. I expressed some concern about being brought in at a fairly high level and then lose my "sponsor" before I had truly established my worth. I looked him in the eye and asked, "How long are you going to have this job?" Being a guy who always shot straight himself, he laughed and pointed to a picture of LBJ and him, with the prez smiling broadly. "As long as he keeps smiling," Idar said.

Then, I expressed my misgivings about the kinds of people that inhabited most of State in those days. I was used to hard-charging, independent, strong people at CIA. I told Idar that I had misgivings about working with the mid-level people at State, many of whom I considered to weak and wishy-washy. To my surprise, he said he understood completely. So, we agreed that for now, I would not take the job at State. We shook hands and departed friends.

I had never been so flattered in my life, and to this day I often wish that I had taken the gamble and accepted the chance to work at State under his tutelage (in the wings). He had worked on the Manhattan Project (atomic bomb), had held high positions in several of our embassies, had been the executive director of the United States Disarmament Administration for the U.S. Arms Control and Disarmament Agency, and was now the Under Secretary of State for Administration. What the hell was I thinking to turn down his offer? I was pretty sure of myself in those days, and thought the CIA was doing very important work. My family and I served a two-year tour in Laos and then were posted in Rome.

In 1969, President Nixon appointed Idar Rimestad to be the representative of the U.S. to the European Office in Geneva, with the rank of Ambassador. One day in the parking lot of the U.S. Embassy in Rome, I spotted Idar Rimestad going into the auditorium for a conference of big-wigs from around Europe. I called to him and he seemed delighted to see me. He invited my wife and I to breakfast at the Excelsior Hotel on the Via Veneto - for the next morning.

When we arrived at the opulent Excelsior Hotel, Idar and wife Ann were seated at a big round table with several State Dept. people from our embassy. He motioned us to sit next to him and Ann. We immediately began a hushed conversation about the time I had spent with them in their apartment suite in Europe. A lot of smiles and laughing ensued. The people around the table did not know who I was, as I worked anonymously in the embassy behind a door guarded by a U.S. Marine. They were perplexed. Later, they just stared at me in the embassy elevator when breakfast broke up and we went to work.

Shortly, I got a call at my desk from the CIA Chief of Station, with whom I had a very good relationship. The chief asked me to come to his office. He said in a low-key way, "I understand that you and your wife had breakfast with Ambassador Rimestad. How do you know him?" I told the chief of the operational details of how Idar and I had meet and of our good relationship. I probably did not mention that Idar had previously tried to recruit me into State. As I recall, about all the chief said was, "Well it's nice to have friends." I got the impression that he thought I should have given him a heads-up about the breakfast.

After that day in Rome, I never saw Idar or Ann Rimestad again. And it was not too much later that I resigned from the Agency to pursue a private career in Dallas.

Of the great and near-great men that I have had the joy and privelege to know - and more importantly to call my friend - Idar Rimestad is at the top of the list, even though we were in close contact for only a few weeks - and sporadically thereafter. He was a great American.

rcrhotx at yahoo dot com

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Richard Rhodes