Opinion

In troubled times, there’s no place like home

The saying that you can never go home again might be true, but I’m from people who believe in always going back. It’s good for the soul and a reprieve from a complicated world. So, last month, I got on the road and returned to my roots.

Thirty years ago, I left my North Carolina hometown, then a sleepy state capital that revered country living. Success was attainable there, but in my teenage years, the American Dream seemed like something one must go and get. And whether to college or to work, into business or off to the military, the getting usually meant leaving. I ventured out to build a life while the city made its own moves. New roads and office parks sprang up where the woods used to be. On every visit, something was different.