words to think on

There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born here, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size and its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter — the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is the New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. […] Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness; natives give it solidity and continuity; but the settlers give it passion.
E.B. White, 'Here is New York'
Once a city loses its settlers, it's on dangerous ground - cities live or die by their magnetism. You have to attract the people that will make the city the place you want to be, people with agency who choose where they live. Individual persons or things are not strong enough - a collective movement is required, a coalescence into critical mass large enough to form an attractive force. Under those lights, I wonder about Cleveland.