No offense, Weiss, Handler, Angelos & Cornwall. But you’re only a law firm. You can do without Ken Pruitt.

The people of St. Lucie County need him now.

You have no idea how good it felt last week to hear that the former Senate president – the senator for District 28, where I lived for nearly three decades – had filed to run for property appraiser in his home county.

No more Mr. Senior-Adviser-Providing-Government-Advice-for-Clients-of-a-Law-Firm. Yuk.

That might sound right for most politicians post-Legislature. But it’s not right for Ken Pruitt. And he knew it.

Ken belongs in public service. That’s where he took root and grew. Where he blossomed and flowered and where he’s a natural.

And I was sure that Property Appraiser Jeff Furst, who died July 5 of a massive stroke, would highly approve of his friend, Ken Pruitt, stepping up to replace him.

In the spring of 2003, I sat next to Furst at a chamber of commerce luncheon where Pruitt was guest speaker. During Pruitt’s talk, Furst leaned over to me and said, “He’s a giant, isn’t he? Can you think of anybody who’s done more for our district or our county, because I can’t.”

Neither can I. I couldn't then, I can't now.

Former Senator Ken Pruitt

Line up all of Pruitt’s legacies like trophies on a shelf -- the creation of the Bright Futures Scholarship, some of the most significant Lake Okeechobee cleanup legislation ever passed in Tallahassee, just any of them you can think of -- and for my money you won't come up with anything more significant than his almost-singlehanded transformation of St. Lucie County.

When he entered the state House in 1990, St. Lucie County was -- let's be brutally honest -- a dowdy, riches-to-rags, deadend of a place with a soaring unemployment rate and a huge inferiority complex.

Fortunately for all of us who lived there, Ken Pruitt was two things: a man who took public office seriously and a visionary.

By the time he got to the Senate 10 years later -- and certainly as he climbed in leadership -- he had begun to change the dynamic of St. Lucie County in some very dramatic ways. He would tell you modestly that many others helped and he did no such thing alone. Nevertheless, St. Lucie County today is the showcase of the "Research Coast," a part of the Treasure Coast that lures major research and development companies like Torrey Pines, the Burnham Institute, and now the Vaccine and Gene Therapy Institute -- a facility, Pruitt says, that is working on an AIDS vaccine.

In a phone conversation with Pruitt the other day, he called these companies “our community’s pillars of hope.”

Some folks might think it strange that a former Senate president, a high-flyer who might be running for one of the statewide offices in this year's election if he hadn't called a time-out in his life, would be back on the lowest rung of the ladder, running for county property appraiser.

But personally, knowing Ken Pruitt as long as I have, I'm convinced this is exactly where he should be: serving his community as close to its heart as he can get.

“I have no aspiration for higher office," he told me. "Been there, done that.

“Look, I love this community. I’ve watched it blossom. As much as I’ve enjoyed working in the private sector, I missed being out there, being in a position where I can affect public policy.

“This is a job where I can stay at home with my family, where I don’t have to get in a car and roar up the road to Tallahassee. But I can continue to be a part of this community’s future.

"What more could I possibly want?"