I met Daniel DeNardo a number of times, mostly in television and radio studios where I interviewed candidates running for office. Tall and trim, he was clean, neat and polite if reserved -- until the curtain went up and he took center stage.

Then he became the ranting crank known to the community for his conspiracy theories and apocalyptic visions. His opening statement routinely contained denunciations of communism, Congress, the federal reserve, paper money, and the weaklings who tolerated all four. That's a lot to shoehorn into a couple minutes.

Reporters said I was surprisingly nice to him. Having been humiliated myself, I can't bear to humiliate others. So I tried to gentle him. And really, what else can you do when a candidate announces his plan to make the Book of Revelations the official state governing document?

I thought about asking "And just what role will the Whore of Babylon play in your administration?" but that seemed like using cruelty to get a laugh.

Daniel came to the TV studio alone -- always. He appears to have seen himself as a visionary leader: Visionary leaders don't have time for friends, a personal life. So his lawsuits -- there were many -- were like his children. Men like Daniel pull their lawsuits out of their breast pocket and show them around with the pride of suburban fathers displaying photographs of their sons.

I have had a lot of experience with guys like Daniel DeNardo -- in Fairbanks as a boy, at the newspaper. Guys with big ideas who want to change the world and nobody listens. I tried to be patient -- but I did cringe when the Daily News receptionist walked into my office to say "Mr. Carey, there's a man downstairs with a large box of documents. He's not leaving until he talks to you."

On his questionnaire when he last ran for office, Daniel DeNardo listed his occupation as "Counter Revolutionary." His death certificate, I've heard, will say he died of cancer. I believe he died of loneliness -- biggest killer in the United States.