Speaking of heart, and about speaking from the heart, here's a letter of apology from David Martinez which was received via email. Read on...
To All Younger Than Me:
I could have screamed to the high heavens when I saw with my own eyes a political convention in my city brazenly manipulated by a congressman-uncle of mine. I didn't. I was daunted. I could have turned in a cousin who had an illegal electrical connection to his home which bypassed the meter. I didn't. It would have split the clan. I could have paid the right taxes on the income I made running a photography studio to support myself while in law school. I didn't. I thought that since virtually everybody cheated on their returns, so could I. I could have made a big deal of it when I stumbled on our governor utilizing prison labor for his private benefit. I didn't. He was a good friend of my father's. I could have declined defending and obtaining the acquittal of a senator's son charged with illegal possession of firearms. I didn't. I needed to earn the senator's gratitude, even at the expense of my integrity. I could have raised hell against the rampant illegal logging going on in southern
Now as I approach the sunset of my years I make amends. To all younger than myself, I ask you to accept my deep remorse. If the solemn, unwritten task of each generation is to leave this world in better shape for the young than when they first found it, we've accomplished the exact opposite. By design or inaction we've bled the country dry. We've poisoned its rivers, destroyed its coastlines, uprooted its forests, and polluted its air. We've plundered its resources, bequeathing you a barren wasteland. We've politicized the military, nourished a communist rebellion and a separatist campaign, elevated corruption into an art form, and institutionalized an oligarchy in the guise of a democracy. If we didn't actively participate in promoting injustice, we turned a blind eye to it. We embraced the dog-eat-dog, every-man-for-himself concept as though it were a teaching from Heaven itself. We sanctified the greed of the few in favor of the need of the many. We've managed in the span of one generation to destroy your most precious God-given gift: hope. Because I was party to this merciless conspiracy, if it's pardonable in any way, I seek your forgiveness.
Some of us -- a pitiful few of us -- realizing the true extent of our collective sins, have dedicated the rest of our lives to making amends. Even though we know that nothing we can do will restore Paradise Lost. However awash in guilt and sincere in repentance, we know that we haven't the time. All we can hope for by this humble attempt at rehabilitating ourselves is to minimize the spite our generation has earned so well. So exceedingly well. All we can do, when we're gone, is beg you not to spit on our graves.