Journal illustration / Frank Gerardi

Leading the pack: Governor Carcieri; Providence Mayor David N. Cicilline; Providence Police Chief Dean Esserman; Leo Messier, former EMA director in Providence; Deputy Providence Schools Supt. Tomas Hanna; former state EMA director Robert Warren; Lt. Governor Elizabeth Roberts.

A noted author once observed, “Everybody talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it.”

But we sure expect our politicians to clean up after it.

Nowhere is that truer than in Rhode Island and Connecticut, where the careers of governors have been made or broken based on how they responded to winter weather.

The fate of Rhode Island’s current governor, Donald L. Carcieri, was sealed long before last week’s snowstorm ground things to a halt in the Ocean State: term limits bar him from running for reelection.

But two of the people who want to replace him, Lt. Gov. Elizabeth H. Roberts and Providence Mayor David N. Cicilline, may be shoveling for a while to clear themselves of the fallout.

Roberts has been both praised and criticized for trying but failing to assume command last week as the flakes flew while Carcieri was in a plane on his way to visit Rhode Island troops in Afghanistan.

And Cicilline has been trying to distance himself from the mess in Providence, where schoolchildren were stuck on buses for hours and city officials seemed ignorant of their plight until well after dark.

How did past governors handle their winters of discontent?

Every Rhode Islander of a certain age will fondly recall Gov. J. Joseph Garrahy and his red and green plaid flannel shirt during the Blizzard of 1978. “That’s what he’s remembered for, and he’s remembered fondly,” said Maureen F. Moakley, a political science professor at the University of Rhode Island.

But few can name anything else Garrahy did during his eight years in office.

Moakley attributed the power of snow as kingmaker to Rhode Island’s diminutive size and the people’s perception that the governor works for them. “There’s very high expectations when it comes to Rhode Island,” she said. “People don’t have these sorts of expectations in Massachusetts.”

The task of cleaning up after winter weather seems to fall peculiarly on governors and mayors. “Nobody blames the legislature for snowstorms,” said Moakley.

Voters want their leaders to suffer along with them, and will turn on leaders who don’t.

Former Connecticut Gov. Thomas J. Meskill learned that all too well.

In 1973, he seemed likely to be reelected. Until he went on a ski trip to Vermont. While there, an ice storm crippled the Nutmeg State. But Meskill kept skiing. His popularity slid so far downhill, he didn’t even bother running the following fall.

His successor, Ella T. Grasso, was blessed by the reverse fate.

Her popularity was sagging in early 1978, and she faced the prospect of losing reelection in a Democratic primary. But along came the blizzard. Grasso followed the lead of former Gov. Abraham Ribicoff, who was lauded for his hands-on leadership after devastating floods in 1955. Grasso slogged her way through the blizzard to take command in the State Armory, trudging the last mile on foot after her car became stranded.

She became such the face of Connecticut’s rebound from the wintry punch that someone stomped letters into a snowy field that could be read from the air: “HELP ELLA.”

The same nor’easter, of course, propelled Garrahy to veneration in Rhode Island.

Besides the plaid flannel shirt, Garrahy will also be remembered for his trek to work. It took him six hours to travel a few miles to the State House from his Providence home. At one point the National Guard truck he rode in got bogged down. Providence College students helped rescue the governor by lifting the truck out of a snowbank.

So, what are the lessons for today’s leaders?

One of them is: timing is everything.

Last week’s storm — when Governor Carcieri was in the Middle East as snow gridlocked the Ocean State — isn’t the first that Carcieri has fumbled.

In the early days of his administration, he took some guff — and got zinged by a Jay Leno one-liner — after being stuck in Florida when a February storm paralyzed Rhode Island and the rest of the Northeast.

“We’ve just got to get through this,” Carcieri said in a radio interview.

“Which is a lot easier...,” the late-night host said, “when you’re in your vacation home in Florida.”

But that storm was eclipsed a few days later by bigger news.

“People forgot about that,” Moakley said, “and they remembered the Station fire.”

By all accounts, Carcieri received high marks for his hands-on management of the aftermath of the fire, which ultimately killed 100 people.

Only time will tell how quickly the latest storm fades into memory, Moakley said. “This could make a difference in terms of his legacy.”

And what about Cicilline?

“It’s certainly going to affect him in the short term,” Moakley said. “If Dave’s lucky, there’ll be a few more snowstorms which he can do well on.”

The good news — especially if you’re Lt. Governor Roberts — is that voters’ ire seems to stop at the top, if history be a guide.

The biggest winter lesson might come from former New York Mayor John Lindsay. And that is: just say you’re sorry.

In a Journal interview two decades ago, the North Providence native who headed Lindsay’s 1969 reelection campaign recalled that voters had soured on Lindsay, in part because of the city’s dreadful snow-removal performance. So the campaign shot a series of commercials in which Lindsay admitted his mistakes, according campaign manager Dick Aurelio. “We felt he needed to show some humility,” Aurelio said. “Most people interpreted it as an apology. A lot of people thought it was a turning point.”

Lindsay eked out a victory.

pparker@projo.com