Associates Call Robbins’ Fall a Loss for Valley : Politics: The region will ‘miss his ability to get things done,’ said one aide of the former high-profile, powerful state senator.

State Sen. Alan Robbins drove through the gates of his Encino estate, then down the hills to the floor of the Valley, arriving at 10 a.m. at his district office in the heart of Van Nuys, where he would break the news to his staff.

Here, they didn’t call it a resignation or a guilty plea.

“An apology,” an aide called it.

Some cried as he told them that he had but two hours remaining in office, but not Robbins himself.

“He’s taking it well,” one person who was present said later. “But how do you think he feels?”

The official announcement of the veteran senator’s fall from power and impending five-year prison term wouldn’t come until noon in Sacramento. But word had leaked out and the news crews started arriving at the office shortly after 11 a.m.

The staff had been told to offer only a “no comment,” and Robbins’ longtime field representative, Jack Sheffield, eventually locked the office door to keep questioners away.

It was hard to keep silent on a day like this, however, and Sheffield emerged minutes later. He had to say something about his boss, the man who for two decades was among the most powerful figures in San Fernando Valley politics.

“The senator’s problem is he’s very, very good,” Sheffield began. “He’s an aggressive guy. And aggressive people sometimes cross the line.”

Sheffield went on to speak of the people they helped at the field office, of how Robbins had a genius “for cutting through the bureaucratic bull,” of how the staff was told to help “anyone in the Valley,” not just those in Robbins’ district, and of how, finally: “Whatever Alan’s human faults, the Valley is going to miss his ability to get things done.”

In the hours following, similar sentiments were voiced by a succession of others: by an elderly constituent who wandered by to offer his regards; by officials of the San Fernando Valley Fair, which Robbins helped revive 17 years ago, and by political insiders who marveled at how Robbins’ unquestioned influence enabled him to win reelection time and again, despite a trial on charges of having sex with two 16-year-old girls and the allegations of ethical lapses that shadowed him.

“There’s no question that we’ve lost probably the most high-profile Valley legislator in Sacramento . . . and it’s going to hurt,” said Richard Close, president of the Sherman Oaks Homeowners Assn.

If there was surprise, it was not so much over the disclosure of wrongdoing as over Robbins’ sudden admission of guilt.

“Alan is like a cat. And now when he hasn’t landed on his feet, you’re really shocked,” veteran political consultant Paul Clarke said. “If a lawyer pleads guilty to five years without parole, the authorities must have convinced him there was no way out--that they had every i dotted, every t crossed in their case.”

Even some who called him a friend confided that they never completely trusted the handsome senator with the often-guarded, almost inscrutable demeanor.

“Every time he cleared his throat three times before he said something,” one longtime associate recalled, “we used to say: ‘Alan’s lying.’ ”

Nevertheless, to many of his constituents, he was Mr. San Fernando Valley, an aggressive, high-profile advocate for a part of the state that often felt overlooked by all levels of government. A Sacramento power as chairman of the Senate Insurance, Claims and Corporations Committee, Robbins was known as a big money fund-raiser whose aggressive appeals were virtually impossible to resist.

Federal prosecutors portrayed him as a legislator who sought bribes with equal zeal.

State Sen. Ed Davis (R-Valencia), a longtime friend, said Robbins called him Tuesday morning to confide his plans to plead guilty to one count of racketeering and one count of tax evasion.

“I told him I was very sorry to hear that,” Davis recalled.

“He said, ‘I haven’t been as scrupulous in obeying the law as you have.’ ”

Davis said Robbins’ tone was matter-of-fact, businesslike. But one detail Robbins didn’t relate in the conversation was his agreement to serve five years in prison.

“Oh my God. You’re kidding?” Davis exclaimed when he learned of the sentence from a reporter. “That much? Why? Here’s a guy who’s brilliant. . . . It makes no sense for someone that brilliant.”

“I thought he was too smart to do something so stupid,” said Los Angeles City Councilman Nate Holden, a former colleague in the Senate, referring to the government’s assertion that Robbins tried to influence a witness in a federal investigation. “He must have panicked,” Holden said.

One person who called the Van Nuys office offering condolences was Sal Buccieri, president of the 51st Agricultural District, which puts on the annual San Fernando Valley Fair. Among Robbins’ earliest legislative successes was a 1974 bill that revived the district.

“Whenever he was called upon, his door was open,” said Buccieri, a Woodland Hills-based real estate agent.

Robbins’ other major political efforts included lobbying for a state office building in the Van Nuys Civic Center, the 1980 campaign in the Valley against school busing for racial integration and a recent drive to guarantee that the Metro Rail line from North Hollywood to Warner Center be built underground through residential neighborhoods.

“Alan was always at the forefront of making sure that the Valley got its fair share from Sacramento and from the city and the county,” said David W. Fleming, past chairman of the Valley Industry and Commerce Assn. “And that’s why he was elected so many times when, obviously . . . he ran into political problems involving allegations of wrongdoing.”

“He’s not a person I admire or look at as a role model, but he’s a person who demands respect,” said Eric Rose, a Republican political consultant from West Hills. “Although Alan obviously had shady business deals, he was a darn good representative for the San Fernando Valley.”

To Rose, Robbins’ decision to plead guilty was another pragmatic act to avoid “going through a highly publicized trial at a time when politicians in this country are not looked upon in a favorable light.”

Several observers noted that Robbins’ reputation had eroded his influence in recent years.

“Since the FBI sting operation in particular, people have tried to keep him at arm’s length,” an aide to one legislative leader said.

But Robbins continued to embrace the local causes that bolstered his political base.

LeRoy Chase, executive director of the Boys & Girls Club of the San Fernando Valley in Pacoima, said Robbins recently publicized the organization’s financial problems in his newsletter and made his staff available for assistance.

“When the senator heard about the problems we were having, he made a personal phone call from his home to say that any way he could be of support, the club could count on him,” Chase said.

He heard of Robbins resignation on his car radio while driving back to work from lunch. “I was shocked,” Chase said.

So was Rabbi Moshe Rothblum of Temple Adat Ari El in North Hollywood, which counts Robbins as a member.

“I always had the feeling that people were out to get him, that perhaps there was a lack of fairness in the way he was treated,” Rothblum said. “But obviously there was a reason for him to agree to plead guilty.”

Hy Rappaport, Robbins’ 83-year-old liaison to senior citizens groups, came to the Van Nuys Boulevard field office to hear the news in person. He finished a cup of coffee, wrapped a scarf around his neck and headed for the elevator that would take him down from the fourth floor of the state office building that owes its existence to Robbins.

“Who knows what God has in store?” Rappaport asked.

At noon, when the resignation took effect, Sheffield and the other employees in the office were no longer aides to ex-Sen. Robbins, but to the state Senate itself. They will continue in their posts, working on constituent services, until a special election is held to pick a replacement.

“At least we get a nice day for it,” said Sheffield, peering through the midday sun toward the hills of Encino, where Robbins will live several more weeks before he is expected to report to a federal prison.

“What a beautiful day,” the aide repeated. “I should be out on the golf course.”

Staff writers John Dart and John Schwada contributed to this report.