I’m Happy


Why? Not because everything is perfect in my life. There are sure as hell some things I’d like to change (topics for another post!).

But, here’s what happening right now:

  • I just took one of my favorite yoga classes. Ever. From a teacher with the most splendid, authenticity pouring out of her soul.
  • I’m vacation with my lovely bride.
  • We’re with our people (at Wanderlust Whistler).
  • The drive up here was gorgeous, and Whislter, BC is a beautiful part of the world.
  • We found some unexpectedly splendid places to get grub…and trust me, with my lovely bride being fully vegan and gluten free, and me most of the way there, that’s not a small issue.
  • We had a wonderfully fun meal last night, creating piles of food at this joint.
  • I’m living a lifestyle I genuinely enjoy…for perhaps the first time in my life.
  • I’m at peace with who I am as an individual. My strengths. My weaknesses. And where I want to go in life.
  • Did I mention I’m on vacation with my lovely bride?

Where are you today? Not happy?

I’ve been there and done that. My encouragement to you: change it. Whatever you do, find a way to make that happen. Whatever you think it’s worth staying in an environment or path in life where you won’t be happy, you’re wrong. It’s not. Change it.

And if you are happy. My God, make it a great day.


Have an Impact

I’ve learned something from writing this blog and seeing the response to my wife’s recent guest post, the world needs people who have an impact.

Not people grinding through the motions of life. Not people worried about what’s in it for them or their ego. People who are willing to have an impact.

Let’s take my wife’s post. It received effusive, emotional comments on Facebook, including this sampling of excerpts:

  • “wow…”
  • “l love it.”
  • “I needed to read those words today!”
  • “Love, love, love this post!”
  • “I related to this post in so many ways”
  • “Beautiful. Brave. Inspiring.”
  • “Incredibly honest and courageous…”
  • “I think she wrote that for me.”

I shared the link to her post on Facebook. It received 139 likes, dozens of comments, and 13 shares…with all kinds of additional interaction off those shares.

That’s a pretty nice reach. Want to know a bigger number?


That’s the number of page views her post has received as I type this text. That’s out of almost 8,000 overall page views for this site since I started it on April 30 (and more views than the site’s homepage!). Add the quantitative response of the page views with the qualitative response of the comments, and it’s crystal clear my wife had an impact.

The ironic part: my lovely bride was nervous to have the post go live. She was afraid of how people would respond. I think we answered that, and created a great example that your impact can be more meaningful than you expect.

Having an impact is why I started this blog, which was basically a response to finding out my transformation, as seen in person and on social media, was inspiring people…an outcome I never expected.

Where else do I have an impact today?

  • Professionally: I lead a team of 10 people, each with visible roles across a large, changing company in a complex industry. And I’m also a significant face of the company internally and externally. There are times I know I’m having an impact, and doing so intentionally. There are also times I don’t know, and only find out later.
  • Healthy living: the number of people who say they’ve been inspired by my transformation and what to know more about it, often after seeing it unfold on social media still startles me. I’m just doing what I do, and for some reason it sticks.
  • In the home: how I show up in as a father and husband really matters to me. It’s light years better now than before my transformation, but still a challenge. Why? Life. Life still has challenges. Life is stressful. And I’m not perfect. I have years of flawed behavior and responses to life’s problems that I have to unwind now. That’s a constant work in progress.

I call those out because there’s a point where you just have to be intentional, do what you need to do, but not try to control the outcome. That’s not anything crazy or revolutionary, and may not mean adding new activities to your life. It just might mean doing them differently, with a clear intention, then going with the flow from there. The impact you have by doing so may surprise you.

Example: I didn’t have any real plans when I started this blog, just the idea that I had something to say and wanted a venue to say it. The rest followed.

Including now finding myself frequently stopped by friends or acquaintances at professional or social events who mention this blog and talk about it. My wife has seen it unfold and can attest, it’s odd, a bit unexpected, and rewarding, all at the same time.

Why odd and unexpected? The people saying something often aren’t the ones who have “liked” or commented when I’ve posted links on Facebook or LinkedIn. They’re not the ones who message me on FB out of the blue to say something about a post they just read. They’re people I wouldn’t otherwise know have read it.

That’s exactly the point. You have an impact even when you don’t realize it.

So my advice: carry yourself accordingly. Someone’s watching, and may learn or be inspired by you. That’s a fact. The only question is what are you doing, knowing that, to have an impact?

What Breaks My Heart

Kids. Kids break my heart.

No, not my kids. I’ve written about my son and my daughter. I’m very proud of them and the young man and woman they’ve become. Yeah, they’re teenagers, so things aren’t perfect. They can be kind of maddening sometimes. That’s what teenagers do. But, that’s not what I’m talking about.

Kids in pain. Kids getting a raw deal. That’s what breaks my heart.

My lovely bride used to work in social services. I’ve heard more than a few sad tales that make you want to do very bad things to the adults responsible. My wife is out of that business now, but I heard another tale today.

A friend of hers, living with her husband and an infant, recently had her husband’s 6-year old nephew and 8 year-old niece placed in their home. They had been in foster care for a year after their mother abandoned them with a babysitter. Those kids come out of foster care into a nice little home with two caring adults, but a home where a young family isn’t swimming in money.

I’ve been there. Single income, and not a big one at that. Spouse and children. Not enough money for much of anything besides the basics, and even those can be a struggle at times. Making it really because of being super thrifty, plus aid from friends and family. It’s hard. It’s stressful. At times, it just fucking sucks.

Now add two other kids, who just need someone to love them. They come to their new home with pretty much nothing. The little boy’s birthday is in a couple days. They asked for oatmeal for their first lunch with their new family. CPS was helping the family find beds, sheets, and other basics today.

My heart hurts for them. We’re going to help, because we can. But, my heart hurts not just because the story is sad; it hurts because childhood trauma like that is scientifically proven to dramatically increase the odds of trauma across the spectrum of that child’s life when they become an adult (I highly recommend reading information on the ACE study and/or a presentation by Dr. Robert Anda on the topic; it will make you re-think how you consider supporting both children and adults in life). Today’s sad story for a child all too often becomes society’s problem in the future, in addition to an adult wracked with pain.

I have another example close to home. One of my children’s friends is in a bad place. They cut themselves sometimes. Their home life is a fucking train wreck. Ok on the surface, mired in complex and painful dysfunction with extended family when you dig deeper. Not exactly a good place for vibrant mental health and emotional development…as if being a teenager wasn’t tough enough emotionally.

Our home is a safe place for that friend. They know they can come over whenever they need to. My wife and I have spent time with them. We’re intentional about showing we care, because we do. They’re a good kid. Just one getting a raw deal. And my heart hurts because of it.

What does that mean?

Maybe it means we should do what we can to help kids when we can. Maybe that’s money. Maybe that’s time. Maybe that’s offering a safe place. Maybe it’s getting real with them or the adults in their life if the time is right. Maybe it just means praying for them, because sometimes that’s all you can do.

Maybe there are more ways. What about your professional life?

I used to work at the U.S. Department of Education, helping implement No Child Left Behind; an important, laudable, at-times controversial, and imperfect education reform law. It passed in partnership between President George W. Bush and the late Senator Ted Kennedy, with the 100% meritorious goal of eliminating the achievement gap between affluent and white kids versus poor and minority kids. What did I like about that job? Helping advance the education of kids who needed it most, getting a better education so as adults, they could break the cycle and not need that help.

One of the most memorable school visits I did in that job was at an elementary school in Boise, Idaho, in a not very good part of town. By stereotype, the school should have been pretty bad. It was one of the best in the state.


People. People who cared. The principal created a culture that didn’t accept excuses for why kids couldn’t learn. Her view: yes, those kids had challenges. Their homes might be broken. They might be poorly clothed. They might not have school supplies. They might not get a reliable three square meals a day. But when they walked through the doors of that school every day, the staff was going to do everything they could to help those children learn. And they did.

When the pleasant reading areas assembled in the hallways at that school, complete with comfortable couches and chairs, were a sought-after reward by the students, somebody is doing something right. And those kids are much more likely to be successful later in life because of the environment those educators created.

What are you doing right to help a kid?

I bet you could find one who needs it. I mean really needs it.

A kind word. Some time to talk. An unexpected birthday present. Some athletic gear or school supplies they need. Some food so their parents can provide good, healthy meals.

Because when I look into the eyes of a kid who comes from a shitty home and is eager to learn, when I look into the eyes of a kid who is going hungry sometimes, when I look into the eyes of a kid who is cutting themselves because their emotional state is such a mess, when I look into the eyes of a kid who doesn’t understand why the adult in their life is being such an ass to them…I want to do something more.

Maybe we all should.

Update: minor edits made for clearer factual accuracy.

What the Hell Happened to Her?

This blog has been a helluva experience. Nearly 5,000 page views from 3,200 visitors in 2 and a half months, with some fascinating and touching feedback from readers. Anyone who has read some of these posts knows this story is not just my own. My lovely bride, Stephani, has her a part, and her own voice.

This is her first guest post. She has some cool and compelling things to say. This one is her version of my “What the Hell Happened to Me?” post. It comes on the 2nd anniversary of her grandfather’s passing; an event which had a huge impact on us as individuals and as a couple.

Several readers reacted with vocal enthusiasm when I mentioned Stephani would be guest writing here. She writes with her heart on her sleeve, and without reservation. It might be jarring to some people, but it will have an impact. I know because I see the amazing impact she’s had on people in the rest of her life now, which is both awesome and inspiring. 

I hope you enjoy it.

 – Eric


June 26th, 2013, I snapped.

I found myself sitting on a park bench down by the river, smoking a cigarette (a habit I had given up years earlier), contemplating jumping in the river, damn well knowing that I couldn’t swim.

*Gasp* oh my goodness. Am I actually saying I was suicidal?

The answer to that is…yes. Painfully, honestly. Yes.

I hated my life. Hated it. I was in a job I hated. Actually, I had hated the career path I had chosen. My marriage was in shambles. I was miserable in my own skin; I was devoid of hope and couldn’t remember the last time I was actually happy. Or even moderately comfortable. I was just miserable, and had been for as long as I could remember.

The final straw that lead me to that place on the park bench at the river was the failing health of my beloved grandpa; he had been diagnosed with terminal cancer earlier that month, and the weeks leading up to that were absolute hell. I was juggling a hellish work schedule, my failing marriage, kids, etc. I was also navigating hospitals, nursing care facilities, emergency rooms, and my own shattered heart. My grandpa was my world, and my closest family member. Losing him was unfathomable.

Every day after his diagnosis, I woke up and wondered how I was going to manage it all. Every night I went to bed, I prayed I just wouldn’t wake up.

I was so tired of faking it; the life I had created was based on the expectations of what I thought everyone else wanted me to be, not what I actually wanted for myself. I had no idea who I was, why I was doing what I was doing, or why I was even here. Most of my life up to that point had just been me struggling to convince everyone I was “normal,” even though things were just a mess.

Here’s the kicker: on the outside to everyone else, I appeared to have an ideal life:

  • Good job.
  • Nice husband.
  • Two beautiful, smart kids that went to private school.
  • A condo, two cars in the garage, etc.

But it was a fraud. Things sucked. Everyone was suffering due to lack of authenticity, poor life skills, generational dysfunction, and spiritual brokenness.

At that moment in time, on that park bench, I knew I had 3 options:

  1. Stop being a coward and jump.
  2. Pick up a drink and drink myself to death (another nasty habit I had given up almost 7 years prior).
  3. Change everything.

I don’t know what happened. Maybe it was God, maybe it was self will…maybe it doesn’t matter. I snuffed out the cigarette, and I chose option 3.

I chose to change my life.

I walked into my bosses office the next day and I put in my notice. With absolutely no idea what I was going to do. And I just didn’t give a shit. My other option was to die, so this seemed pretty reasonable.

On July 14th, 2013, at 10:58 p.m., I held my grandpa’s hand as he took his last breath on Earth.

Something about that event shifted EVERYTHING (see Eric’s post “What the hell happened to me?” for more details). Watching him die made me realize that I have one shot at this life, and I better stop fucking around and wasting it. My grandpa had worked hard his whole life, and had some stuff to show for it. However, his last days, he spent his time telling stories about his life, his adventures, and his regrets. There were some things he didn’t do right, and he knew it; he spent too much time working, and not enough time with his family. He didn’t adventure enough. He didn’t take enough risks, and love fully with his heart wide open. I watched him regret these things, and it was heartbreaking.

The material possessions, the house, the job, the cars….none of it mattered. When he died, we gave away, threw away and sold 85 years worth of stuff.

Love, connection, experiences. That’s what mattered.

Losing him was the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced. The last of my already broken heart had been shattered.

The beauty in something that is totally shattered is this; it can’t be repaired. It has to be remade.

And that’s what happened. My heart was made anew that day. My life began the day it ended.

My irreparable relationship with my husband was remade. I burned my bridges with my old career and made a new (and amazing) one.

We got rid of all of our stuff. We sold our condo. We hated that place anyways. We started over.

Our entire life was made anew. Including how we live it. I started doing what my grandpa regretted not doing in his last days; I started loving with my heart wide fucking open.

These are some other things I do differently today vs. two years ago:

  • I no longer do things that don’t serve me.
  • I say no to people A LOT.
  • I no longer spend time with people who are toxic, judgmental, and don’t love me for exactly who I am.
  • I say what’s on my mind.
  • I embrace my authenticity and never, ever fake it.

But here’s the biggest change: I stopped giving a shit what other people think of me.

This has not been easy.

The past two years have been awesome, but hard at the same time.

Shifting the way we have shifted doesn’t come without pitfalls.

When your energy shifts, sometimes it no longer gels with the people in your life. I have lost a TON of so called “friends” over the past 2 years that just couldn’t understand what was happening to me.

Family too.

Some people think I’m stupid for living my life so off the beam, for giving up my career, my home, my so-called “stability.” Some people think I’m a fake bitch. Some people think I’m just flat crazy.

Many people dislike my live-out-loud, fuck-what-other-people-think approach to life. It makes people really, really uncomfortable.

And they have told me so. And told me to hit the road. Conversely, I’ve told a few people to hit the road; you don’t support me? Don’t let the door hit ya on the way out. I spent most of my life without an authentic voice, and engaging with people just because I thought I had to…no matter how poorly they treated me.

There is so much truth in the saying, “You accept the love you think you deserve.”

This is where the whole “not giving a shit” thing comes in. I do NOT care what others think of me anymore. I will not, cannot, and flat refuse to surround myself with people who are toxic, unkind, and unsupportive. I can’t. That shit almost killed me, remember?

Losing these relationships is actually a blessing. The people that have left my life have been replaced by a new tribe of amazing people.

Today my life is rad. And it’s mine. It’s the life I tried to manufacture before but could never get quite right, because it wasn’t coming from a place of authenticity.

I’m done living my life to please other people. And hopefully you’re reading this, you are too. Fuck that. Seriously. One life. One shot. No regrets, no excuses.

Change is scary. But you know what is worse? Regret.

That fateful day two years ago, I had three options. But the beauty in that, is that there WERE options, There are always options. There’s always hope. There’s always Option 3.

You can, in one moment, in one decision, change everything. Just be willing to love with your heart. Wide. Fucking. Open.

I did. You can too.

– Stephani

Sports: They Build Better People

VANCOUVER, BC - JULY 05:  Alex Morgan #13, Lauren Holiday #12, Abby Wambach #20 and Whitney Engen #6 of the United States of America hold the World Cup Trophy after their 5-2 win over Japan in the FIFA Women's World Cup Canada 2015 Final at BC Place Stadium on July 5, 2015 in Vancouver, Canada.  (Photo by Rich Lam/Getty Images)

Members of the #USWNT holding the World Cup Trophy after their 5-2 victory over Japan.

A friend on Facebook posted this article last week, “The Single Most Important Lesson We Need to Learn from the US Women’s World Cup Victory.

Single Most? Maybe. Important? Hell, yes.

Why should kids be given the opportunity to play sports, especially girls? The author writes:

[E]ncouraging your daughters to play sports does more than just fill a win-loss column; it can fundamentally transform the course of her life, her confidence, and her resilience long after she stops playing. …

They become part of something bigger than themselves, something bigger than a game, and the resulting confidence, camaraderie, and connections they build pay dividends long after they hang up their cleats or play their last minute. …

…playing sports gave me a lasting gift: to know what it’s like to give it all, to know how to lead, to know how to follow, and to know what it means to push yourself harder than you ever imagined possible.


The same applies to both boys and girls who seek to compete. But, I think there is a special opportunity to support female athletes in the sports they pursue.

I saw it first hand serving as an assistant swim coach in college, at the University of Mary Washington. It was Division III. No one was going to the Olympics, and few would even going to NCAA Nationals. But, damn did being on that team — like many others — have an impact on people.

The moments I remember most? It’s not an athlete that had an incredible race, who swam an amazing time, or buried a rival opponent in their wake (though those are fun!). It’s the moments when an athlete’s character was tested, and they showed up even better.

  • I remember sitting on the side of a pool deck on our annual training trip to Florida, talking to a young woman who was ready to quit. Not just the set, or the practice, or even the trip. She was ready to quite the sport. Right then. We talked for quite a while. She finished the set, the practice, the trip, and the season.
  • I remember coaching a young woman who had a rough freshman year. The transition to college didn’t go smoothly. Her training was rough. Her race times in season were off. She could have sandbagged it from there, but, she was a warrior and an emerging leader on the team.She kept at it. And became the only swimmer in conference history to win both Rookie of the Year and Conference Swimmer of the Year. She never lost a race at the conference championship meet during her four years at Mary Washington and is in the school’s Hall of Fame today. Those are really nice accomplishments, but I’ll always remember the look on her face on the pool deck after swimming a time that qualified her for her first collegiate national meet. A season’s worth of toil, pain, pride and accomplishment, all in a single snapshot.
  • I remember a meet against an out-of-conference rival that usually kicked our tails, Gettysburg College. They came into our pool and put their banner up our diving board. A slap in the face to a team already grinding through a rough stretch of training before the final taper leading up to conference championships.  I recall being rather animated in the pre-meet pep talk that day after seeing that. Hell, I still remember some of the things I said, word for word. The result: those men and women swam out of their minds. The women, who usually lost in a close contest, pummeled Gettysburg that year. The men, who usually were on the receiving end of a rough day, narrowly lost. And by narrowly, I mean there were three races where we were just out-touched by a split second. Had we won any one of the three, the men would have won the meet. The worst part: it was the same swimmer in each case getting out-touched at the end of an individual race or a relay. That was a brutal outing for him. We went out to dinner afterward and talked about the meet. He was a tough kid and I figured he would bounce back, but you never know. He later qualified for nationals and became an All-American. He’s also in the school’s Hall of Fame today too.

Where are those athletes, and others like them today? They’re usually successful professionals, and better people in life because the learned something in sports. All three of the athletes I described above have really cool professional careers today. Men or women, boy or girl, those are opportunities we should fight for them to have, so they can compete, learn, and grow.

Fight for them? Yes, fight.

Sometimes teams and sports are cut in the era of Title IX and revenue-rich football and basketball teams driving athletic department decisions. My own sport of swimming is particularly vulnerable to it because pools are a high capital cost with little revenue return. I’ll gladly fight for teams to remain so student-athletes can compete.

Sometimes, it isn’t about the team being available, it’s about the kid being given the chance to compete. To be supported by their family. Cheered on by their peers. That chance to compete and grow as part of a team is no small part of my son’s story, even as his sports career has likely come to an end before college begins. You have to give them that chance, then support them. That’s on all of us as parents, family members, school mates, and fans. The rewards are so very worth it.

If you follow me on social media it may be no surprise to see me cheerleading for amateur sports, especially for girls. They are some of the great character builders available to our young men and women today.

And sometimes, we get the added pleasure of seeing a group of them rise up, grow…and become World Champions. Making them the role models for the next generation of athletes who will be inspired by the US Women’s World Cup victory this year.

I can’t wait to see that next generation in action.

Who Are Your People?

No, not your nationality or your ethnicity. Your people.

The people who bring out the best in you. The people you want to be around. The people that inspire and support you. The people who make you better at life. The people that love you for who you are, not what you are.

I spent the better part of this past week at a yoga retreat in the mountains of Oregon with some of my people (and without cell coverage or wifi!). It was splendid.

Do the math on my childhood, education, socio-economic status, profession, etc. and you might think my people are:

  • Upper-middle class
  • Suburban
  • White Collar
  • Executives
  • Churched
  • Politicos


Here’s who my people often are:

  • Yogis
  • Urban
  • The health conscious
  • Dones (who have left the church but not faith)
  • Tough Mudders
  • Swimmers
  • Athletes

Why? They bring out the best in me. They inspire me. They make me feel part of a community. Yeah, my people in sum are a weird mix. I’m a weird guy. I’ve long since embraced that…with a smile!

Obviously, no one fits neatly into the those categories. I have friends and others I enjoy spending time who fit descriptors on both lists, but the trend toward the latter is crystal clear in my life.

Why should you care who your people are?

Are you languishing in life? Feeling unmotivated? Feeling like you’re a modern-day Sysiphus, repeatedly pushing a boulder up a hill for no positive gain?

You might not be with your people. And you probably aren’t, as a yogi might say, following your dharma: living your true purpose in life.

Sometimes that’s a chicken or the egg question. Which comes first, following your dharma or surrounding yourself with the right people? The answer depends on each individual’s experience. I found both almost simultaneously after way too many stagnant, miserable years of knowing neither. My experience is you won’t be able to authentically pursue your purpose in life with the wrong people around you.

That gets to a truly difficult issue. Sometimes finding your people means letting others go and moving outside the comfortable. You have to — and may eventually find yourself wanting to — let them go. That can include family, friends, current and former professional colleagues, etc.

Sometimes it happens quickly, sometimes it happens over time…and sometimes it’s really fucking painful.

The family you always spend time with by tradition? Some of them may be toxic. The people at the house of worship you’ve grown accustomed to attending? They may not give you the space or support to grow outside their comfort zone. The profession or circle of friends you pursued for years because that’s just what you did? Maybe you’ll wake up one day and realize there’s something more you want to be. Maybe you have already had that experience and don’t know what to do next.

On the other hand, maybe you naturally found your people in life. Maybe they’re who you’re with today. That’s truly wonderful and you should consider yourself blessed.

But, if you haven’t, or if you having lingering doubts about whether those you surround yourself with are truly helping make you better in life, let me encourage you: find them. Find your people.

Finding them will force you try new things. To grow. To find not just what you’re good at, but what makes you excited to live the life you’re leading.

And that is so very worth it.

The Greatest Patriot We Never Knew

Who’s on the $10 bill? The most consequential Founding Father you may know nothing about. Were it not for the recent kerfuffle about it many of us might not know it’s Alexander Hamilton. Why should we care about him? The man:

  • Was a driving force in the creation of our the Constitution, including being a key author of the Federalist Papers, the persuasive series of essays that helped assure the Constitution’s ratification by the states, and which are still cited in our court system today.
  • Played a massive and leading role as George Washington’s right-hand, first as a military aide, then in the establishment of our federal government…from scratch.
  • Nearly single-handedly created the monetary and financial system upon which our economy rests today…including serving as the nation’s first Treasury Secretary (at 34 years old!) and establishing our first National Bank (today’s Federal Reserve).

Put more simply: no individual played a greater role in the creation and early implementation of our durable and successful government and economy than Hamilton. And we don’t know who the hell he is. Some of that is the weakness of our civic knowledge as a country, some is the vagaries of the writing of history. We know George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, et. al.

Hamilton is left as a bastard of history; the Jon Snow of our Founding Fathers (..and yes, Game of Thrones fans loved that reference).

Ironic, because Hamilton was born a bastard in the British West Indies, and later orphaned. He is the epitome of a self-made man, and also the epitome of a flawed man. He was so very American.

He never achieved high elected office himself, in part because of the negative side effects of his fierce ego. His lengthy public response to charges of corruption and infidelity (the former false, the latter true) cleared his name yet finished him as a plausible national candidate. Hamilton was all too human.

All too human…and phenomenally consequential.

The first Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, John Marshall, considered himself but a candle compared to the noonday sun that was Hamilton. My brief description of Hamilton does little more than scratch the surface of his accomplishments (other examples: he was also at one point senior commander of the United States Army and an abolitionist before being an abolitionist was cool).

Hamilton’s separate careers as a lawyer and Constitutional advocate, Cabinet member and financial system architect, as well as a military and diplomatic adviser and leader would be highly consequential each by themselves. Combine them together and you have an unrivaled, diverse record of accomplishment in American history.

My former boss, Slade Gorton, has said ” we build monuments to Thomas Jefferson, but we live in Alexander Hamilton’s world.”

It’s true.

And on this July 4th, in the wake of the Department of the Treasury saying they plan to slight the man who created them, Alexander Hamilton deserves to be honored as we remember what this day means for our country. Because he did so very much to create what still thrives to this day.

Postscript on the $10 bill debate: I’m 100% in agreement on adding important woman from history to our currency…and doing so first at the expense of Andrew Jackson, a slave owner, veritable committer of genocide, President of little consequence, and man who opposed the use of the very paper money on which he sits. Good, short articles on the merits of Hamilton and demerits of Jackson include: