By Bill Forry

Ahhh, it's that time of year again in the neighborhood. Labor Day's come and gone and with it the summer heat. The buses are rolling again. And along Dorchester's main streets and back roads, the vibrant colors of another New England fall are sprouting from the ... two-by-fours.

You don't have to hike out to the Berkshires or even Cedar Grove Cemetery for a splash of fall color around these parts. Autumn in Dorchester officially started last weekend when Bobby Madden made his rounds in Neponset, turning what we all know as Gallivan Boulevard into Mike Flaherty Way. At least until November 4.

On Monday, while most of us were enjoying an extra hour of nap time, 59-year-old Bobby "Booga" Madden was already halfway through his route from Morton to the Circle, tying up more than a hundred red-white-and-blue placards, all adorned with the name of the City Council's young president.

Madden, a St. Brendan's native who works as an investigator for the District Attorney's office, is part of an elite but totally unorganized band of Dot men and women who you can count on two-and-a-half hands. They're the indispensables. The guys - and gals - that absolutely must be "with you" if your campaign has a prayer.

Don't believe me? Ask someone who knows.

"Bobby's one of those extraordinary people who have endless energy," says Maureen Feeney, who's known Madden since she was a 17-year-old newcomer to Neponset. "And for him, loyalty is everything. When he's with you, it's 500 percent. He's like a machine."

Like I said, there's probably a dozen or so Bobby Madden-types who make the wards and precincts of Dorchester their habitiat. But, as Feeney and Mike Flaherty and countless other Boston pols know, this Madden guy, he's the real deal. Bobby's sister Dottie Dunford admits that her brother, the youngest of seven Maddens from St. Brendan's, wasn't much for school as a youngster. He did the circuit of Dot's parochial schools before earning his diploma from Southie High. His wilder, more youthful days are the source of many a chuckle within the extensive Madden clan, where Bobby's well known for starting stories and finishing desserts, according to goddaughter Molly Dunford.

These days, though, Bobby's focused squarely on two things: his job at D.A. Dan Conley's office and his 14-year-old son, Joe. Bobby's only real vice is politics, an "obsession" as Dottie puts it, which explains why the last three-day weekend of the summer finds me helping Bobby balance a Flaherty sign between the poles of Mrs. Sullivan's front-yard fence as he ties it into place.

"I hope you're not doin' a story about old political hands," Bobby wonders aloud.

Not exactly.

"I first met Bobby Madden during Ralph Martin's campaign in 1994," says Flaherty, the lucky so-and-so who bumped ol' Mr. Gallivan off his pedestal this week. "At the time, I only knew him as Mary Madden's brother," says Flaherty, referring to another of Bobby's just-as-accomplished sisters, this one a well-loved BC High math teacher.

Mary says her brother's voracious political appetite is inherited from their mother, whom she remembers as a political junkie, filling out dear friend cards at the kitchen table.

"My mother loved politics," says Mary. "And growing up in Dorchester didn't hurt either. You can't grow up here and not be involved."

Mary's brother, though, took it to the next level.

"I cannot remember a time when he wasn't involved. I never saw a person work so tirelessly. He'll be up at the crack of dawn doing signs or asking people for signatures. If he really believes in you, he'll do that.

"And Bobby can stand at the polls all day and never forget a name. Just like our mother."

It's a fortunate trait that Mike Flaherty, among others, has noticed.

"Bobby's committed to his neighborhood, he's grounded in community service and he's extremely loyal to his friends," Flaherty sings before getting to the kicker.

"And when you stand with Bobby Madden outside Greenhills' on a Saturday morning, he knows every person out there. He knows where the votes are and where to spend your time. You need a man like Bobby Madden by your side."

Flaherty's admiration for Madden's politicking is trumped by his respect for his real profession: Bobby has the often thankless job of probing some of the worst this city churns out. As a crime investigator for the DA's office for the last 20 years, Madden's asked to track down evidence, witnesses, and victims as prosecutors prepare their cases for trial.

"He likes the thoroughness of it," says sister Dottie. "He likes the challenge of finding people that other people couldn't find. When he gets his teeth into it, he's just not giving up."

"You can run, but you can't hide from Bobby Madden," says Flaherty, who worked alongside the Dorchester man while toiling as an assistant D.A. in Roxbury. "He's been instrumental in so many cases. He's saved a lot of them from going down the tubes.

"Bobby will knock on any door in any neighborhood and talk to anyone to get the information he needs to help us solve a case.

"Or to get a sign location," Flaherty quips.

Madden's secret, according to Maureen Feeney: a well-earned reputation as a "genuine" person, something that seperates your run-of-the-mill, evening stand-out volunteer from the cream of the election year crop.

"With someone like Bobby Madden, it's a combination of things, but it comes down to credibility. He really believes in the person he helps. When he asks you for a sign location, and he comes right to your door and asks, he's proud to ask to have that sign put there."

"I think that's what makes him so valuable: He has a reputation of being, not just with winners, but with people who are genuinely in this business for the right reasons."

"He's a legend," says Feeney. "I think he exemplifies what most people think about when they think about the good side of Boston politics."