Something big is slipping away from us in America as we become a nomadic nation.

It slips away in such imperceptible degrees we cannot easily measure the loss, vast and real as that loss is.

So we do not do much about it, though we can, and we must. The loss was evident at the Phillipsburg Chamber of Commerce annual dinner last week where native son Don Winkler thanked his fellow townspeople "who were always there for me."

The 50-year-old chairman and chief executive officer of $40 billion Finance One grew up on Union Square in Phillipsburg, where his parents owned, and lived above, their little grocery store.

There, he and his three brothers learned about the seven-day work-week and making ends meet.

Growing up in the tightly knit community of P'burg - "I just have to say P'burg," Winkler said, "it sounds right" - he also learned about friendship and mentors, people who knew him, believed in him, supported him no matter what.

You see, Winkler has dyslexia, a condition which causes his brain to misinterpret the data his eyes send. Dyslexia, which affects an estimated one in seven Americans, primarily manifests itself by making reading almost impossible, though it can have other symptoms.

The effects on victims' lives can be devastating.

Winkler recalled, "They called me stupid. They thought I was just trying to be a cutup. They even called me retarded."

It could have been enough to divert his, anyone's, life down a very different path.

"My minister figured it out. Rev. Moon went over the hymnal with me. He gave it to me to take home and read. My father and mother helped, and my three big brothers."

He rattled off the names of childhood friends, coaches and teachers "who knew I was not stupid. Belief in yourself is the finest motivator you can have," Wink1er said.

That motivation propelled him through high school and college, then into industry and banking.

The bright child who saw things differently could have fallen to the bottom of society's scrap heap instead of rising to contribute at society's pinnacle. The key factors that made the difference were family and community.

Back then, in the 1950s and '60s, dyslexia was little known, rarely diagnosed. Winkler said he was a sophomore in college when he found out about it. Now, of course, we have alert educators and doctors, batteries of tests, support groups and all the paraphernalia of an enlightened society.

Wonderful. But is all that an adequate substitute for what Winkler had in downtown P'burg?

More and more Americans are moving around, lighting in one sterile suburb after another for a few years.

Both parents, if there are two, work outside the home, too often long hours after long commutes. Neighbors barely see each other. Fewer kids have the opportunity to grow up with the same group of peers.

We have gone from a time when, for better or worse, most of us lived, worked, worshipped, feuded, partied and did just about everything together for a few generations, to a time when a growing portion wanders.

Would a Don Winkler of today have as good a chance of turning "a supposed disability into an advantage: Seeing things backwards can help you think out of the box," as he would have 50 years ago?

Such talents are the ones we most desperately need. They grow best in the matrix of whole communities.

We cannot turn back time to the supposed good old days.

But we can plan the best uses of our land and courses of development to encourage formation of true communities.

And each of us can vow to get involved, participate and contribute locally in some way no matter how small.

The invisible yet powerful forces that changed Winkler's life will slip away if we do not.

Reprinted with permission from The Express-Times of Easton, PA.