A little boy stood before the town council in Severance, Colorado, this week and made a heartfelt plea to overturn a law that's been in place for nearly a century.
"The children of Severance want the opportunity to have a snowball fight like the rest of the world," 9-year-old Dane Best reportedly told council members. "The law was created many years ago. Today's kids need a reason to play outside."
Maybe it was his confidence. Or his infectious enthusiasm. Or the unassailable facts marshaled during his three-minute presentation.
But when Best emerged from the council chamber, snowballs were once again legal in this town.
The council voted unanimously to lift the 98-year-old ban, prompting cheers from the children and parents in attendance. And maybe even a wink between kids that strongly implied they would be seeing each other outside, snowballs in hand, very soon.
All thanks to a certain very young civil rights activist who loves baseball and snow. Unnecessary city ordinances, not so much.
"He went on a field trip to the town hall in October," his dad, Derrick Best, tells MNN. "They learned about goofy laws, and a little bit about local government.
"When he got home from the field trip, he was just baffled that we couldn't throw snowballs at our town with it being against the law. He decided right then and there that he want to be on the front lines of getting the law changed, and he took it head on and ran with it."
A law that was past its prime
That leaves just one lingering question: How did snowballs ever become contraband in the first place?
As reported by The Associated Press, the rule was part of a larger law: you can't throw or shoot stones or missiles at people or animals or trees or even buildings.
And, just like in Provo, Utah — a town still living under a snowball ban — hand-crafted mounds of snow qualify as missiles. In fact, during Best's presentation, council members wanted assurances that those fluffy — but occasionally hard and icy — missiles wouldn't be a safety issue.
"If we do enact snowball fighting, have you talked to your fellow students about safety issues?" the Greeley Tribune quotes one trustee asking the boy.
"Can we amend this ordinance to say that if you're over 60, no one can throw a snowball at you?" another member sensibly suggested.
But Best is no snow angel. He and his friends admitted to the Tribune to taking up arms against each other many times in the past. Still, future generations may thank this bold trailblazer every time they get a face-full of snow. And they may even find inspiration in Best's political activism at such a tender age.
"He is a great kid. Very smart, but most importantly, he's kind with a big heart," his proud dad tells MNN. "He's a heck of little athlete as well."
During a council meeting earlier this month, Best was asked who he would target if snowballs were legalized.
He didn't hesitate to point across the room, where a 4-year-old boy sat squirming.
That would be his little brother, Dax.