If you doubt any of this, you should talk to Brent Warr, the indefatigable mayor of Gulfport, who worked with the team focused on his community for 24 hours a day throughout the charrette. Ring up Allison Anderson and her husband John, two architects from Bay St. Louis who took a week off from sorting through rubble and helping their neighbors pick up their devastated town to devote every hour to the charrette. Call Gwen Impson in Waveland, or Martha Murphy in Pass Christian, or any of the other regular citizens who showed up to offer their thoughts, memories and darn good ideas.

The seeds of success were sown in part by the initial guidance that the Governor's Commission gave to the charrette planners: To regard "environmental justice and individual property rights as fundamental considerations"; to make sure the options included zoning and building codes that would preserve historic character, make communities safer from future hurricanes, and allow those who lived there to return, regardless of income; to expand transportation options; to protect the wetlands and other ecological features; and many other features of what most people would consider smart growth, or just good, people-oriented planning.

Now, there is nothing to say that any of these towns, the affected counties or the states will take advantage of the phenomenal amount of brain power and goodwill that went into this process (the teams are still working on finalizing their reports, and many of the participants are continuing to offer pro bono consultation to their Mississippi "clients"). The governor and the rebuilding commission made it clear that the charrette was to provide a menu of options, and that no community would be forced to pursue them. But as Rusty Quave, the mayor of D'Iberville said, echoing comments from many other participants, "We'd be foolish not to."