"I've tried my level best to serve these voters well, and they on their part chose to ignore party labels and to give me their votes," he declared, marveling that he won support even among the triple-deckers of Democratic Woonsocket.

His has been a long career, something that hit me full force at yesterday's State House session.

I first met him during his initial run for governor in 1962. He was 39. A college journalist, I was told to catch up with him at - well, it was so long ago I was told to meet him at the old WEAN, where he was taping some radio speeches.

When I covered his news conferences as governor, TV news operations were in their infancy. Print and radio reporters asked the questions, and the TV folks would stand by, watching the scene, decide what had been the most interesting exchanges and then have Chafee repeat the answers on camera.

Yesterday, TV carried his announcement live, and my biggest worry was whether I could do a quick bulletin for projo.com.

When Chafee was governor, he and wife Virginia raised a brood of handsome kids. Three sons and daughter Georgia - all, of course, now adults - were on hand yesterday, along with 12 well-scrubbed grandchildren.

One son was in California. I couldn't help but think of the daughter who was not on hand - Tribbie. She died in a horseback-riding accident at age 14 in 1968. Chafee told me he was thinking of her, too. "We always think of her every day." He also reported, "We have a little granddaughter named Tribbie." And there she was, Georgia's blonde 10-year-old, who looks like her late aunt.

It was a day for reminiscence and analysis. I asked Henry Sharpe, a Chafee cousin, how Chafee differed from the typical pol. "I never regarded him as a politician because of the way he is," Sharpe said. "He's a straight shooter."

Appeals Judge Bruce Selya, close Chafee associate, said the senator's strength was that voters knew he didn't have an angle. "People have disagreed with his policies, but I don't think anyone has ever seriously questioned his motives."

Advertising executive Dave Duffy said Chafee's early slogan, "The Man You Can Trust," said it all, a theme that translated especially well in campaigns for senator, a post in which Rhode Islanders "expect the very best in integrity and smarts" and want to avoid anyone "who would embarrass us, ever."

By phone later, former press secretary Josie Martin said, "He knew what the right thing to do on every issue was, and he did it."

I wouldn't go that far. But he's been a voice for decency - for the environment, abortion rights, gun control and gays. At the divisive gay-bashing 1992 GOP National Convention, he told me he was baffled. "We're all human beings in God's eyes," he said.

Chafee long said he leaned toward running again in 2000. He said yesterday, "The tilt obviously is to keep going in the path you're in." But then he asked, "Is this really what I want to do?"

In his announcement, he talked about what a pleasure it was to serve, how much he tried to achieve. He didn't grouse about the partisanship of Senate debates or the diminishing influence of Republican moderates. Nor did he denounce the bitterness of modern campaigns. In fact, he told me, when you read about some of the campaigns Abe Lincoln was involved in, "Boy, they make us look like pussyfooters]"

Chafee told the crowd, "I want to come home." I twittingly asked Mrs. Chafee, 73, if she wants to have him around all the time. "Do I ever]," she said. "We're going to have a blast]"

M. Charles Bakst, The Journal's political columnist, can be reached by E-mail at mbakst@projo.com