AN ANONYMOUS LOVE LETTER TO GREATER ROC
- Feb 13
- 2 min read
From someone who still holds a candle for our region, this Valentine’s Day.
In February, when the sky is gray and the wind cuts sideways,
it’s an instinct to hold the door open for a stranger, taking shelter in a lobby together.
It’s a new romance, an old friend.
The family I’ve always known and the one I’m still finding.
It’s all of humanity, and the little things we get so passionate about.
Unconditional and selfless, it’s the highest form of love.
The kind that sees you at every angle and wants to share you with the world, anyway.
Greater ROC, I’ve known you a long time. Long enough to remember what you used to be, and well enough to see what you’re becoming. And through it all, we ask each other the same half-kidding question: “Why do we live here?”
I know why.
It’s hard to sum it up in a mural or a menu, but your Greater glory is in the details.
Maybe you’re the salt trucks and snowplows and car washes in between.
But you’re also the ski trips and craft beers chilled in a snow drift.
A little rust under the shine, the smell of lilacs combined
with the roar of a waterfall, of a crowd, and of a fire under the stars.
And like a sunset on a west-side sky, you always rise again.
I see you in nine-to-fives and five-to-nines. Lines in faces and on maps.
You don’t want fame or glory. You just get to work,
in boardrooms and corn fields, at desks and dining room tables,
because people are counting on you.
I remember the factories. The small towns. The legacy, heavy and proud all at once.
Stories of changemakers and history-writers who did it here, first.
It’s not an echo of greatness that’s come and gone, but a swan song that’s still being sung.
Do you hear that, Greater ROC?
People are choosing you on purpose. Starting companies in old buildings. Turning warehouses into studios, kitchens, ideas. Making art without asking permission. Building communities that make headlines and a difference.
I’m not surprised. You deserve some love, after all you’ve given. I’ve seen you in neighbors shoveling each other out of two feet of snow. In benefit shows. In fundraisers that fill rooms.
And you know what? That’s exactly who you are.
Be proud of it.
Because you’re the reason I always come back.
You’re love in all the little places.
Home, if you want to call it that.
Or maybe we can just call it something Greater.
Something iconic, till the end of time.
Happy Valentine’s Day, Greater ROC.
It’s okay to love yourself.
I know I do.