
Her laughter, her facial expressions, and her commanding presence at a podium all lend a sense of familiarity to her air of mystery. Readers will likely feel an impulse to start calling her “Ann.” Regardless of the photographer, be it Pam Francis, Ave Bonar, or Annie Leibowitz, there’s something engrossing about each photograph in the book, perhaps because it doesn’t seem possible to take a bad picture of Richards-she’s that photogenic. The One Ann Only is a visual love letter to Richards fans, and an open-door welcome for fans-to-be. Justus expressed concern that newer generations don’t know who Ann Richards is-a fate all too common for women in politics whose legacies get slowly, meticulously erased. When I spoke with Margaret Justus, founder of The Ann Richards Legacy Project, who served as Richards’ deputy press secretary, she said she envisioned a book that would reach fans as well as teachers, students, people in recovery, and anyone who might not be familiar with Texas’ 45 th governor.

Instead, the book’s strength lies in its stellar photography. Overall, The One Ann Only is light on text-readers looking for a substantive biography or critical policy overview will have to look elsewhere. It includes a foreword by Sarah Bird, a timeline of Richards’ life, and an afterword by Mary Beth Rogers. With a vibrant laminated cover, a white ribbon, and high-quality Forest Stewardship Council paper that makes the images pop, the book feels coffee table-worthy. Ĭompiled by The Ann Richards Legacy Project, The One Ann Only contains more than eighty photographs, some alongside her sharpest quotes. And what better time to appreciate her legacy than now with the release of The One Ann Only: Wit and Wisdom from Texas Governor Ann Richards. Whatever the key to her allure, Ann Richards’ spirit lives on. Or perhaps it’s that she represents a more hopeful time when Democrats stood a fighting chance. Perhaps her heaps of charisma, a quality generally lacking in Texas politicians today, is what captures the eye. Bush.Īs we gazed down at the photo, I was struck by Richards’ magnetic hold on people. The store owner did, however, show me another piece of Texas history, a black-and-white photograph under the checkout counter’s plate glass of Ann Richards, Barbara Jordan, and George H.

If you were to inquire, as I did, if the sign was for sale, you’d be politely told “no”-it’s as much a part of the store as the pride flag hanging in the window above clusters of ceramic knickknacks. There’s a little thrift store in North Austin that has a blue sun-faded Ann Richards yard sign in the window.
