This past weekend I visited Ellis Island in New York City, where 12 million immigrants came to pursue a new life. One of those immigrants was Piotr Wylegala of Poland, my great grandfather, a poor tailor from Poland, whom I never met. And yet, Great Grandpap Pete left a huge inheritance for his children, his children’s children, and generations after. By spending what might have been a life’s fortune for travel, by braving a putrid 3rd-class voyage across the sea, by starting anew in a land foreign in tongue and culture … he became an American. And as a result, I am an American, and my children are American. The inheritance my Great Grandpap Pete left was not one of money or property, but of opportunity and hope. I am deeply thankful.