Meaningful messages do not always come from individuals perceived as experts, or who otherwise boast celebrity status.

Meaningful messages also come from “common people” busy with their daily tasks, or else engaged in activities that allow expression capable of impacting others in a positive way.

This editorial will focus on two individuals, one now deceased but who for many years enhanced police work in the city of Pittsburgh, while the other continues to be an asset and advocate on behalf of Altoona’s optimistic spirit.

This local person can usually be seen by hundreds or thousands of people over a span of several hours as he waves at passers-by while dressed in the image of the Statue of Liberty.

We’ll focus on Altoona’s upbeat messenger first.

Anyone who saw the Mirror’s Feb. 12 front page could not overlook the large photo of Fred Shields waving to motorists and their passengers along Plank Road, bringing smiles, even to those unhappy for whatever reasons or those experiencing sadness due to some unwanted circumstances or occurrences in their lives.

“Life’s too short to be miserable,” Shields told Mirror reporter Matt Churella, as he explained why he engages in the mission for which he receives no financial compensation.

The late Pittsburgh police officer, Victor S. Cianca Sr., was paid for the time he spent directing traffic at busy Steel City intersections during rush hours, but the relationship he forged with residents and workers who converged on Downtown Pittsburgh during workdays remains a legend 41 years after his retirement from the police force and 14 years after his death at the age of 92.

It would be great today if police work and citizenry retained such a warm relationship.

On behalf of anyone who never heard of Victor Cianca and his flamboyant style of directing traffic:

Cianca began his job as a Pittsburgh traffic cop in early 1952, and it didn’t take him long to elevate his work to what one publication characterized as a “choreographed art.”

Wearing his usual white gloves, Cianca put to use as many as three limbs at once to keep motorists and pedestrians moving — regarding pedestrians, those who actually were in the process of going from place to place, not merely present just to gaze at the officer’s comedic gestures.

For example, Cianca would pretend to be sleeping when he encountered a motorist driving too slowly, or play an imaginary violin when a driver would try making excuses for a traffic violation.

One of his trademarks was calm during traffic jams, leading the former Pittsburgh Press to comment, upon his retirement, that “a downtown traffic jam without Vic Cianca is a traffic jam with no redeeming qualities.”

The Sept. 9, 1962, Pittsburgh Press quoted Cianca as saying, “I have a reason for every motion or gesture.”

Said Shields the other day while noting that he enjoys seeing people smile: “I like to show personality when I do this. I have a lot of fans.”

Cianca was an ambassador for Pittsburgh; Shields remains an ambassador for Altoona, even in cold temperatures and otherwise bad weather conditions.

Shields doesn’t carry with him a plaque like the one on the pedestal of the real statue in New York bearing the words “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,” but he delivers an important message nonetheless:

Free expression is alive and well here.