One of the extraordinary personal comebacks in the 100-year history of Culver City is being essayed this week by Albert Vera.

By the time of the City Council election in April, Mr. Vera doubtless will be favored to win one of the three open seats.

In a way, it does not matter.

He already has scored personal triumphs that would dwarf the more traditional accomplishments of family members and colleagues.

Mr. Vera courageously, and with typical understated quietness, overcame a personal habit that often kills.

He triumphed over fairly public family tragedies.

He stood proudly, wordlessly in the shadows when his often controversial father was targeted for scorn or fainthearted praise – always publicly, by an open window when even the deaf could hear.

Perhaps Albert Vera’s greatest –  a judicious characterization – triumph has been noiselessly and with maximum effectiveness galloping out from the deep shadows of his father.

Sitting tall and proudly in a well-worn saddle, in seven fast years he has become an undeniable winner in intensely competitive (family) businesses.

The now middle-aged man everybody once called Junior is as junior as the King of England or the President of the United States.

Unbowed, bloodied maybe, Albert Vera’s personal-but-intensely-public triumphs have stacked his hard-earned image taller than any of his opponents-to-be.

That is the true victory that counts the most.