My maternal grandfather’s home was at 34th and Columbus. His mother raised 5 kids in that 3 br 1 bath house with a dirt basement floor. It was home to 9 adults and 4 children during the Depression; all supported by two single women who worked as bookkeeping clerks at Pillsbury. Family still lived there when I moved to go to graduate school at U of MN in 1980. Not only is Minneapolis home in deep and rooted ways for me, I love what I remember best I’m seeing flowing into the streets: helping. Whether it’s the spirit of the Vikings or the depths and cruelty of the winters, Minnesotans know we cannot get through this life alone and I’m stunned speechless at how simple you make it look, even if I know better. It is simple, and it’s the hardest work any of you/us will ever do. Thank you.