Turning out the lights in "The West Wing"

Cue those drums, or better yet, some Yo-Yo Ma.

We're about to feel even lousier than when Mrs. Landingham died.

No more press briefings and all that bantering through those hallowed halls. No more world crises and political sparring.

Goodbye, neurotic Josh. Savvy C.J. Sunny Donna. Devoted Charlie. And Toby, lovable grouch.

It's been seven fine years, but this Sunday, we bid farewell — even though we would love to hold onto our make-believe White House for just a bit longer.

Because, let's just say it, we could stand proudly behind this president and feel patriotic, even when he took us to war. That's what "The West Wing" did. It gave us a conscientious, knowing president, Jed Bartlet, with a devoted, hardworking staff. And we cared.

"The West Wing," with its ensemble cast, multiple story lines and, above all, spitfire dialogue, stroked our intellect. (OK, yes, in the pilot Sam slept with a prostitute — but Sam was Rob Lowe. Rob Lowe!)

We tuned in because we had fallen in love with that other workplace TV show, "Sports Night," and we wanted to see what else writer/creator Aaron Sorkin could do. And this time the workplace was both storied and something we hadn't yet seen: the White House.

What we found was a drama about high-pressured teamwork and the desire to always be wanting. if sometimes failing, to do what is good. Anyone who's ever felt like they don't have a life outside the office could appreciate "West Wing." Same goes for anyone who's ever worked behind the scenes in a supporting role.

Some blue-state viewers were lured in because the show was about earnest Democrats and if, say, our public persona was to remain objective, er, neutral and not show bias, at least in our living rooms they could groan and roll their eyes at the Republicans. (Except for Arnold Vinick. And ha! Now he's Secretary of State.)

But what truly connected with viewers — those of us who stuck with it even when the show got too preachy, or we just couldn't buy into Claudia Jean as chief of staff — was that "The West Wing," week after week, heralded commitment. This was a group of people devoted to one another, to their leader and to a country. And hasn't everyone imagined what it would be like to serve at the pleasure of the president?

Series creator Sorkin had already given us a regular-guy portrait of the leader of the free world in his 1995 movie "The American President." (Martin Sheen riffing à la Dr. Seuss, ribbing Michael Douglas, the president).

Sorkin initially envisioned "The West Wing" as a TV drama spotlighting just the president's senior staff. So he gave us a marvelous crew: a couple of brilliant lawyers (Rob Lowe's Sam Seaborn; Bradley Whitford's Josh Lyman); a caring cynic (Richard Schiff's Toby Ziegler); a tall, stands-her-ground press secretary (Allison Janney as C.J. Cregg). And to mind them all, the crusty, tortured Leo McGarry as chief of staff, who was played by the terrific John Spencer, who died unexpectedly in December.

At first, Martin Sheen wasn't meant to be a regular cast member. But we all know that quickly changed.

President Josiah "Jed" Bartlet, descendant of a signatory of the Declaration of Independence, a New Hampshire Democrat with a fondness for chess, old books and the occasional cigarette. But in spite of his privileged upbringing and the insular Oval Office, he never seemed out of touch with the regular folk. If anything, he'd groan when his own staff was oblivious. The cost of a gallon of milk? he asks his staff. They all haw before Bartlet gets the answer from his personal aide, the son of a slain D.C. police officer, Charlie Young (played by Dulé Hill).

Ah, Charlie. A supporting-cast member who made the series that much more appealing. Because if you couldn't identify with a geeky politico, then you could always latch onto common-sense Charlie or jaunty Donna Moss.

Then there was sassy-sweet presidential secretary Mrs. Landingham and her only-if-you-deserved-it cookie jar. She was wrongly killed off when she was struck by a drunken driver — just as she was buying a new car.

There were many others to love: The eccentric Lily Tomlin character (the subsequent presidential secretary). The fiesty First Lady (Stockard Channing). The fiesty deputy press secretary played by Kristin Chenoweth.

Mark Harmon as a Secret Service agent — and C.J.'s long overdue love interest. Adam Arkin as a shrink. (Poor, poor Josh.)

Because of them, we wanted to learn Latin; talk Census, Social Security, capital-gains tax; throw a ball against our office wall — just like Toby.

So hail to the Chief and "The West Wing"; long may it wave.

Florangela Davila: 206-464-2916 or fdavila@seattletimes.com