Bob Greene is one of my favorite writers.

When I was young, just starting out in newspapers, I devoured his books which were mostly compilations of his columns in the Chicago Tribune.

One time, on a lark, I called the Trib newsroom and asked for Mr. Greene. When they patched me through and I heard his voice, I panicked and hung up. I never thought it could be that easy to speak to someone I thought was famous. It turns out he was a working reporter—just like me—only far more experienced, vastly more talented and certainly way better known.

I thought Mr. Greene had the best job in the world. He wrote about topics and people that interested him and went wherever his curiosity took him. Fortunately, he took his readers with him before a personal scandal took away his Tribune byline.

A week ago, I read a column in the Wall Street Journal on civility, freedom of speech and Norman Rockwell. It touched me deeply and I clipped it out, a rare occurrence these days, when it’s so easy to find online and share. I did that as well, sending the digital version to friends and family. But for some reason, I wanted the print version for myself. I’m not ready to recycle it just yet, if ever.

I was surprised to see Bob Greene’s name on the piece and it was as well written and heartfelt as the columns I remembered at the beginning of my career.

Mr. Greene never totally abandoned newspapers—as I did–for a while at least– before buying a share of the Delray and Boca Newspaper a little over a year ago. There’s something about print that still speaks to me. I’m not sure what and why that is—but while I read extensively online, my best experiences as a reader is still holding a newspaper or a printed book.

The column in the Journal talked about the “Four Freedoms”—a series of paintings by Norman Rockwell 75 years ago that were done to lift the spirits of the nation during World War II.

Rockwell offered the paintings to the government and was rejected—until the Saturday Evening Post ran the paintings on its cover and Americans responded with excitement and appreciation. The “Four Freedoms” which outline what makes America great: freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom from want and freedom from fear were cornerstones of FDR’s governing philosophy. The U.S. government sold over $130 million worth of war bonds by using the Rockwell paintings to rally Americans.

The column focused on Freedom of Speech and the painting depicts a man, dressed in work clothes rising up to speak at what appears to be a Town Hall meeting. He stands among men in suits and ties who appear older and wealthier than the man speaking. What Bob Greene focuses on is the eyes of the speaker—unsure, maybe a little nervous about speaking but resolute in his right to do so. And look at the eyes of the men around him, they are making eye contact, they are listening.

We don’t know the subject matter or whether the speaker and his listeners agree or disagree—but Rockwell captures the magic of being able to speak freely and the power of listening to our neighbors in a civil and respectful manner.

We are embarking on the closing weeks of campaigns in Delray Beach and Boca Raton, barely four months after a brutal presidential election.

We can expect social media hits, nasty mail, robocalls and even TV ads that denigrate candidates and their positions and motives.

Locally, we see the same garbage every cycle—campaign consultants are always “slick”, developers are always “greedy”, business interests are “self-serving”, lobbyists are “slimy” and politicians are “corrupt.”

Candidates promise to lower taxes, slay traffic, stop overdevelopment, fight crime, help schools, close sober homes and make government work better. We hardly, if ever, see the details; candidates rarely share how they will do these things but they all have a plan. And the cycle continues.

So much of it seems empty and vacuous.

The elections have winners, but we the people never seem to win. Promises go unfulfilled, voters get disappointed and some stop caring and voting altogether.

The quality of candidates also seems to be affected by the toxic nature of the game. Many qualified community leaders refuse to run for office—at least in Delray. They may serve on boards, volunteer for non-profits and care very deeply but they refuse to run and we all pay the price for that refusal, which I understand but oh how I wish it were different. The smartest and most sensitive people I know–the ones who really get it and care–wouldn’t think of running and subjecting themselves and their families to the toxicity that too often is tolerated and overwhelms politics at all levels. It used to be that local politics was a respite from the swamp–but that’s not the case anymore. And that’s a shame.

While I do believe that if you “can’t stand the heat” you don’t belong in the kitchen, I also believe that as a civil society there ought to be limits and an engaged citizenry that stands up when boundaries are crossed; when debate and differences cross over into cruelty and bullying. Admittedly, there’s no definitive definition of when that occurs, but most reasonable people would agree when it does and that’s when the community should stand up and say “knock it off.” If we had that, we’d have better candidates, better outcomes, better processes and more efficient government at all levels.

It takes courage to step into the arena. It’s not easy to raise money, gather signatures, knock on doors, coordinate volunteers, give speeches, go to forums and see your record and character smeared by faceless people many of whom have never contributed anything to building a better community. It’s also a very hard job–at least if you care about really making a difference; if you see elected office as a job to do not to have. Many are simply unwilling to risk their seats–and so they play small ball, kick the can on serious issues or give themselves over to puppet masters who are all too eager to use you and dump you overboard when you’re no longer useful.

This brings me back to Rockwell’s painting: a world where citizens make eye contact, listen and practice civility even if they disagree. Especially if they disagree.

Many of us long for that world. We long for community, connection, empathy and dialogue. That’s the motivation behind “Better Delray” a new movement modeled on similar groups across the country. It’s not about dollars as some conspiracy theorists opine from behind the safety of a computer screen and it’s not a “lobby” in the traditional sense anyway, but an advocate for better schools, better government, better conversations and a sustainable future. We may disagree on how to get there or what that might look like, but there has to be a better way to have those discussions than what we’ve seen in recent years.

I recently read another story about the revitalization of Des Moines, Iowa from dull city  into a creative hub. The key to the resurgence, which has created jobs, attracted artists and improved quality of life, is what locals refer to as “radical collaboration”: Democrats and Republicans working together, large company CEO’s, artists and start-up founders collaborating because all of them realize that they need each other to succeed.

What a concept.

I have seen this type of collaboration happen in my city. It is the reason why Delray achieved its success. And it’s fading fast.

I fear we will forget the formula and that our civic muscles will atrophy if we don’t begin to practice community building again.

Lately, the narrative seems to be that everything that came before was somehow wrong, broken, incompetent, corrupt or all of the above. And truth be told, some of it was. Some of it—not all of it. Not by a long shot.

It’s OK to question. It’s healthy even. But many of those who are or were involved don’t remember being asked any questions. They do remember being condemned. And it bothers them. In a big and very personal way.

Some of those who condemn and judge should  know better because they personally benefited from a past they are busy disparaging. And others who haven’t been here long enough to know better would benefit from exhibiting even a dollop of respect and curiosity before judging people. If they took the time and just asked why…why we have a CRA, festivals, a fire contract with Highland Beach, our own fire department, a Chamber, Old School Square, a gateway feature, density, conditional use, a park near Old School Square, pensions for cops and firefighters or a need for better race relations they may just learn something.

None of these things are sacrosanct or above accountability or change, but all of them have a purpose and have done some incredible things for our community. The conversations that would occur (in lieu of condemnations) would grow relationships and that’s what builds communities and makes them special.

Unfortunately, sometimes our nature is to tilt too far before we right the ship. Sometimes we go off the cliff, crash and burn before we make the long climb out of the crevasse. But I’d caution, that recovery and healing is not guaranteed, so it’s always best to avoid the plunge.

But I’m hopeful and worried at the same time if that makes sense.

I see a new age of civility nationally and locally emerging as a result of where we are. A return to “Rockwellian” America  may be too much to ask—and maybe that was just an ideal anyway. But we need to make eye contact again. We need to learn to work together—again. We need to stop bullying, labeling and hating each other. We just do.