Over the years it has been my good fortune to have friends who seem to sense when I need their help the most, often surprising me by supplying just the right information at the right moment. I am happy to report that some of my friends have, as in times past, come through with specialized information and counsel that only they could supply.

The first response came the other day just as Kenneth Starr was sending a mountain of information on Bill Clinton to the waiting arms of members of Congress. The assistance came from a man who, a quarter of a century earlier, was on Capitol Hill awaiting another impeachment process involving another President of the United States, Richard Nixon.

This particular Missouri congressman was to play a pivotal role in the proceedings that were to follow, serving as a member of the House Judiciary Committee which would hear evidence on Nixon, and who would later help write key portions of the final report. What impressed this ex-congressman about the months-long process in which he took part was the emotional and physical toll it exacted on each of the participants.

He was, of course, a kind of vanguard for all the rest of us who lived through the Watergate investigation and who shared with members of Congress some of the same emotional and physical trauma that came from the high drama in our national capital. What this friend learned from the hearings was that the process automatically triggered a constitutional crisis in the United States, disturbing not only the tranquility of the American public but destroying many citizens' previously unshakable confidence and belief in their federal government.

This was not a result Hungate had anticipated, but it certainly was a proper reflection of the mood of millions of Americans a quarter of a century ago. He and I have both discussed how long it took for the nation to recover from the Nixon scandal and how misguided we were to assume that when a duly elected president resigned just ahead of being removed from office the nation's confidence could be quickly restored. It was not to be, and even now, even after Richard Nixon's death, there are still residues of this trauma to be found.

Another friend, this one a psychiatrist and a former director of the state's mental health system, reappeared the day after Starr delivered his stories of intrigue and sex to Capitol Hill. Always a dedicated professional, my doctor friend proceeded to inject his usual pro-Freudian bias by noting the "patient" could not survive the impeachment operation without first taking an elixir composed of confession, contrition and an amendment of lifestyles. Noting that the president had made some progress in reaching the first two goals, my friend delivered a typical diagnosis by calling on the patient to reserve a place on a shrink's couch to cure what he diagnosed as Clinton's "addiction, obsession and compulsion."

Always the close observer of human behavior, the good doctor noted similar ailments evidenced by politicians in Jefferson City who, and I quote him, "seem to suffer similar problems with hyper-sexuality." Perhaps, he mused, "this is what charisma is all about: physical attraction that interprets as sexuality and manliness, all with much voter appeal."

And, then, his final psychiatric touch: "Power corrupts not only in terms of money but in terms of weakened morality."

Before starting this column I spent several hours reading the uncensored report by Judge Starr and rereading a book written by the subject of the report, Bill Clinton, entitled Putting People First. I don't know which reading was more distasteful; both seemed equally so in light of recent events.

The Starr report was doubly sickening because of its unlimited use of gutter descriptions which the authors contend was necessary to prove legal points, and because the words graphically described the actions and activities of the leader of a great nation, arguably the most successful in the history of mankind. After reading the scatological material included therein, I'm less certain about the last point.

The last bit of information I gathered for writing this piece was Clinton's pre-inauguration book outlining his hopes, aspirations and intentions as President of the United States. The book is a fast read, as most political promises have increasingly become in recent years, with the author discussing in considerable detail the wonders he promised to deliver if only the voters were wise enough to respond.

Here are a couple of notable, and ironic, passages from Bill's pen: "Frankly, I'm fed up with politicians in Washington lecturing the rest of us about 'family values.' Our families have values. But our government doesn't." Then there's this Clintonian classic: "I want an America where 'family values' live in our actions not just in our speeches....The thing that makes me angriest about what's gone wrong in the last 12 years is that our government has lost touch with our values, while politicians continue to shout about them. I'm tired of it."

Clinton wrote about the wisdom of a teacher of his at Georgetown University who observed that America was great because its people had hope that tomorrow can be better than today and "that each of us has a personal, moral responsibility to make it so."

There's enough iron(y) in Bill's book to build the bridge to the next millennium that he has by now constructed with now-meaningless cliches. Unfortunately, he seems to have majored in college in the creation of bootless, nugatory words and phrases in pursuit of his own personal goals.

Twenty-five years after Watergate, America is stuck with Zippergate and its endless proceedings while the rest of the nation's problems are postponed, neglected or forgotten. This is the true tragedy of yet another political failure.

~Jack Stapleton of Kennett is the editor of Missouri News and Editorial Service.