It's still a little unclear who will be at Monday's ceremony unveiling the new Crown Point bridge, but it appears that the man who made it all possible won't be on hand.

I'm talking now about David Paterson, the once and accidental governor of New York.

Now a radio talk show host, Paterson inherited a grim fiscal and political nightmare when Eliot Spitzer's bizarro behavior became, well, too bizarre and too public.

I'm convinced that Paterson, in his clumsy, self-immolating way, will be remembered as the guy who set the stage for Andrew Cuomo's remarkable run.

It was Paterson who first decided to take a tough line with the public employee unions.  It was Paterson who implemented widespread lay-offs, while forcing deep cuts in local spending.

It was Paterson who first pushed for a property tax cap, though his ceiling was set at 4% rather than 2%.

In politics, sadly, big ideas are like big gusts of wind.  They don't mean anything unless they tip something over.  And Paterson was infamous for bouncing off things without much effect.

But he did get one big thing done.  When the Crown Point bridge was condemned abruptly after decades of neglect, he threw the full weight of his government behind solving the problem.

An unabashedly downstate governor kicked into gear, tackling a dilemma that was hyper-localized in one valley of the North Country.  Local leaders were thrilled and, I think, more than a little surprised.

Almost overnight, a seven-year clock for replacing the bridge was slashed to two years.  A temporary (and free) ferry crossing was cobbed together in remarkable time.  Financial aid was offered to local businesses.

At a time when the state DOT faced budget constraints in every part of New York, the Lake Champlain bridge was a spare-no-expense priority.  That took leadership.

Maybe it's sentimental, but I hope David Paterson will be there Monday afternoon when the ribbon is cut.

This is a guy who, for all his flaws, deserves a victory lap, deserves a moment of real recognition for being the man on the job when the crisis struck.