A few years ago as an Uber driver I gave a ride to a man and his children who were competing in a wrestling tournament in Portland. I asked where they were from, and he said Nyssa, then said I might not know where that was.
As a 3rd generation Oregonian, I did know where Nyssa is. I asked if he farmed onions and potatoes, he said he did. I told him, I appreciate what you do for us, his son piped up and said, “that’s the first time I’ve heard that.” I assume he meant from someone living in the valley.
It pains me to think he or I might might be categorized by our location, or political beliefs. It was obvious, he loves his family, his state, and his country, as do I. There good people on both sides of the mountains. There was no red or blue on this ride, only mutual respect.