Yes, I took the vow 
when I left 41 years ago.  
But I came back when 
my dad got sick.  
28 years ago. Not so bad.  
I was getting 
out, just like the millenials.  
Working, driving, flying-
on the move. 

Today, not so much.  

But, now I want you 
to come home.  Come 
back-talent-we 
educated you.  We developed 
you.  We nurtured you.  
Come home.  Bring your 
solid values of family, 
place and space.  

Build the industries.  

Let us help you.  
Build the places for 
your kids to play.  
We want the tea 
bars and the smoothie 
shops.  We want the 
art movies and the open 
mics.  We want the 
niche farmers – there 
whole foods and 
fresh herbs.  We want 
the youth and their 
gaming parlors.  

We need you, like 
arteries that harden, 
we have forgotten.  
We remember only 
the good and long 
for those far-away 
times. But the cataracts 
of our minds do not 
allow us to see 
all that held us 
back.  Prayer in 
school never kept me 
from being called a 
nigger and did not 
allow my ivy-league 
parents to use a 
restroom until we 
got to Washington, D.C.  
Neighborly generosity 
did not extend to 
Walt Disney or Amtrack 
or anybody who 
was a “come here”, not 
a “been here.”  

We now reap what 
has been sown.  
But some of us 
are not stuck in 
the muck and mire of 
distrust of who we 
do not know.  Some 
of us value you, You 
who talk different.  
You who would rather 
look at a phone then 
me in the eye.  You 
who socialize by 
playing video games with 
hundreds instead of a 
game of checkers with one.   

Come home.  Share 
your values. Give us 
your talents, your 
attention, your promise.  

We promise to try not 
to regale you with 
apocryphal stories 
that begin with “When I was your 
age…”  
We’ll be good.  

But think about 
how you want to 
build it.  

Come on home.