WASHINGTON WATCH: GOOD DEEDS IN A WORLD OF SNOW

JEFFERSON CITY -- For those expecting this column to be about the Supreme Court, trust me, I wish it were too. But an endless snowfall in central Missouri trapped me 30 miles away from my notes. That tale will have to wait. Instead, I'd like to share with you some reflections about neighbors, Southeast Missourians and our fair state.There is a rule that I have learned about good neighbors. In times of trouble and dislocation, they watch out for one another. Southeast Missouri is filled with such people. We witnessed it in extraordinary ways during the flood two years ago and each year during holiday giving. This week in Jefferson City, in smaller but still important ways, a band of Southeast Missourians watched out for one another again.This time it had to do with snow. Lots of it. Over 16 inches. In all, the most in history that has fallen in a 24-hour period in central Missouri. To make things more exciting -- and treacherous -- winds gusting up to 45 miles per hour accompanied the falling flakes.This snow and wind stranded many people who had been conducting business in our state's capital. Southeast Missourians, however, were not to be daunted. Some helped their hometown neighbors find hotel rooms in a frozen, cramped city. Others took them into their own rooms. When the sun rose on Thursday to show a world steeped in white, groups began organizing themselves to drive home in mini-convoys. Those with four-wheel-drive vehicles offered to take those who could not wait.Among the first convoys to depart was Rep. David Schwab of Jackson, who had no trouble convincing Rep. Mary Kasten and her assistant Phyllis Adams that they were better off traveling in his pickup than in their van.

"Mary had a speaking engagement, and I had a church meeting," said Schwab, when asked afterwards why it was important that they take to the road while advisories warned all to stay inside. They drove the only highway out of Jefferson City still open. All others were closed because of ice and packed snow.

As they passed stranded cars, Schwab called the information into highway authorities from his mobile phone. And about every 30 minutes, he telephoned his location to Jim Grebing, who covers politics for the Southeast Missourian and who was in the capital for the governor's State of the State address Wednesday. Like a weather bulletin board system, Grebing relayed the road conditions to others contemplating the journey south. With "stalled trucks, ditched cars and slow-going" punctuating Schwab's reports, only Rep. Mark Richardson of Poplar Bluff followed immediately in his path.The rest gathered in hotel lobbies and legislative offices to share laughs, coffee and ideas. Some of those stranded tried to work. But all champed at the bit to be gone. When the next convoy departed, by another route, it included Grebing and former Cape Girardeau city councilman David Barklage, with KBSI's Steve Engles sliding behind. This time Grebing served as his own bulletin board, calling those left in the capital. These people, like Walt Wildman and representatives Larry Thomason and Marilyn Williams, in turn passed the news onto other snow-stuck Southeast Missourians. Most decided to be stuck one more day.Although it is always politically wise for elected officials to take care of their constituents, sometimes it is easy to overlook that most of what they do is genuinely in the interest of serving others. Special note should go to the Thomasons and Williams, Kastens and Richardsons, for their open doors and assistance to all who needed it. On a personal note, none were more generous with their time than Sen. Peter Kinder and Secretary of State Bekki Cook, both who also deserve recognition for sending their staffs home as the snowfall intensified, while they remained to get more work done. In times of trouble and dislocation, good neighbors watch out for one another. In a week that Jefferson City heard a governor change directions on a dime, what I will remember is the snow, and the good deeds and the hometown help. There's something reaffirming about that.

Jon K. Rust is a Washington-based writer for the Southeast Missourian.