Walking toward the Capitol on the first spring day that really felt like spring, I was stopped in my tracks by a picture of a familiar face taped inside the window of Hawk 's Bar.

Beneath the picture was a notice announcing the recent death of State Street personality Robert Hicks, also known as Cozmo.

A bit dazed -- imagining the gaping hole left by the absence of an individual who had long been an institution of the Downtown area -- I continued on my way until, a few feet beyond, my gaze fell upon the headline of that day 's issue of the Wisconsin State Journal.

The subject of the eye-catching article was the Madison Police Department 's monitoring of transients in response to three murders in the Downtown area. Like two streams flowing into each other: confluence.

My sympathies are with the victims ' grieving families suffering through these ordeals, and I sincerely hope that the perpetrators of these crimes are identified and swiftly brought to justice. But I would also hope that the situation is not exploited for any too-easily resolved solution, nor would I wish that any segment of the city 's population be targeted as scapegoats.

Expediting anxiety through blame on a convenient "other " is a dangerous road to travel. Tongue-placed-firmly-in-cheek, I 've called this article "The Homeless Question " in order to dissuade any otherwise well-meaning journalist from negatively stirring public sentiment through specious argument or manipulative language.

I 'm referring to the type of article that, in another time and place, might have argued for a solution to "The Jewish Question. " Before we become influenced by such rhetoric and passively allow aggressive policies to be instituted, I would suggest that we consider the question from a clear and logical standpoint.

As the Madison police 's search intensifies among male panhandlers frequenting Downtown, it 's hard to believe that such negative sentiment could arise in a city that has traditionally been tolerant, or even celebratory, of non-traditional lifestyles and people.

A reverence for personal freedom and individualism -- rather than ridicule for its practitioners -- has been a part of Madison for a long time.

My grandmother used to describe various personalities of the 1930s observed during frequent visits to the UW campus, one of whom wore the uniform of a soldier of the Spanish-American War, beating a snare drum as he marched up and down State Street. No one knew where he lived or how he lived -- he was always just there. Another part of the scene, another personality of that time and place.

And that 's one thing I 've always found fascinating about Madison: A name like "Snow Ball, " "Scanner Dan " or "Cozmo " can, in and of itself, conjure up entire epochs of Madison history, with attendant anecdotes and reminiscences quickly following.

And the legacy of true individuals like Cozmo will live on long after such heated public concerns over vagrancy have vanished. His singular example demonstrates the supreme value of marching to the beat of one 's own drum.

Mory lives in Madison.