Boston…  Coming into Boston harbor early this morning felt a little like coming home although I never had been on a boat in this place.  The streets are familiar.  I lived not far from Boston for four years once upon a time, but I didn’t spend many days in the city, but even the rain here today seemed familiar, the old buildings on the old streets seemed to belong to all the people walking or driving on them… they seemed to be my streets.  The autumn leaves belong to all of us.  The little park, perhaps the first in America,  on the same street as Paul Revere's house, belongs to all of us.  The old State House which is now a subway stop and was once the site of the Boston Massacre belongs to all of us.  This city which is the cradle of our great country belongs to all of us. 

Perhaps one of the most disconcerting things about elections this year is that the rhetoric expressed in speeches doesn’t seem to belong to any of us. I will be glad when this election day is behind us.  Perhaps the whole country will again belong to all of us.