The wife couldn’t speak after spending several hours taking in the morning meeting, getting a tour, and talking to folks. It took her a bit to compose herself and say to me: “This… is the Sistine Chapel.” We all knew what she meant. There is something of a sacred shrine to the place, where homies find a power that says no dark fate determines your future. You can sit in any chair in the house and be captured by a noble spirit and you watch folks embark on a journey to fullness, a broad-shouldered resilience and wellspring of joy. Michelangelo could not have painted it better.
