Nate for Niagara!

Friends,

Alright — here we go. And yes, I’m smiling as I write this.

I’m running for office again.

Some of you know me well. Some of you know someone who knows me. And some of you have watched over the years as I’ve managed to take on politicians on both sides of the aisle — from Andrew Cuomo to Donald Trump — and somehow survive it all with my sense of humor mostly intact.

They tried to crush me more than once.

But I’m still here. Still standing. Still optimistic.

And I want to show something that feels rare right now: public service can still be joyful. It can be hopeful. It can be about loving a place and believing in what’s possible — not just complaining about what’s broken.

I love all of Western New York — truly — from the edge of the Finger Lakes to the villages of the Southern Tier.

But my story starts at home.

Grand Island is where I served as Supervisor, and I’m proud of what we accomplished together — the West River Trail, the Welcome Center, transforming the old Hooker Chemical site into a thriving hotel. I love Grand Island from Beaver Island to Buckhorn. It’s not just where I lived — it’s part of who I am.

I also love North Tonawanda and Wheatfield — where I grew up, where much of my family still lives, and where many of my ancestors first came to America. I walked those streets every day. Down Webster. Along the canal. That place shaped me, and I carry it with me everywhere.

And then there’s Lewiston and Youngstown and the broader Niagara Frontier — the gorge, the river, the old French stone castle at Fort Niagara, and across the great inland sea, the lights of Toronto glowing on the horizon. If this were anywhere else on Earth, people would cross oceans to see it. In fact, they do.

And I love Niagara Falls most — deeply.

I know its people. I know its challenges. And I know what it can be.

This is one of the greatest natural wonders on Earth — a place that draws more visitors than the Great Wall of China or the Great Pyramids — yet far too often it’s treated as an afterthought.

So I decided to run here — in this state district — because this is home. And more than anywhere else, I want to fight for my home.

Some of you remember my runs for Congress, when we came closer than anyone thought possible in races that weren’t supposed to be competitive at all. Twice, we nearly won. Twice, we proved something important:

People here are ready for leadership that believes in them.

Those races were against some of the wealthiest members of Congress — candidates backed by enormous money and entrenched power. Both ultimately resigned. One went to prison and was later pardoned by Donald Trump.

Looking back, I think this region was right to expect better.

A few people have asked, “Why not run for Congress — or even the Senate?”

Truth be told, I can’t. Not now. I tried.

But I can run here — in a place I know and love. And experience has taught me something important along the way: real change doesn’t always start in Washington. Especially now.

For years, races like this one have been written off. On paper, they’re supposed to be easy. Safe. The kind of seats where outcomes are treated as foregone conclusions — and in recent cycles, the margins have been enormous.

So yes, some people might think this is a strange race to choose.

But I’ve learned not to confuse math with destiny.

In a time of national chaos and dysfunction, the places where real progress is still possible are right here — at the local and state level. Close to home. Close to the people. Close enough to actually get things done.

That’s why, instead of running for national office again, I’m focused on this race — and on supporting new leaders too, including Alissa Ellman, who is running for Congress in part of the region I once ran in. We need a bench. We need momentum. And we need leadership that actually reaches people.

This may not be the race people expect.

But it’s the one this moment calls for — and I believe that this year, here, we can make a real difference.

This region has everything it needs.

Talent.

Land.

Water.

History.

Heart.

We sit on an international border, next to one of the fastest-growing cities in the world. What we’ve lacked isn’t potential — it’s leadership that expects more and believes more is possible.

For too long, the Niagara Region has been stuck with stagnant leadership — leadership that hasn’t been able to reach the people, institutions, and resources that could help us move forward. And if they could have, the question is simple: why haven’t they?

I believe in Niagara Falls.

I believe in North Tonawanda.

I believe in Lewiston and Youngstown.

And I believe deeply in Grand Island — where roughly 80% of North America’s fresh water flows by every single day.

This was once the land of daredevils and dreamers — not bureaucrats and backroom toadies.

This is where Nikola Tesla helped power the modern world.

Where Charles Dickens stood at Niagara Falls and ran out of words.

Where Ely S. Parker and Frederick Douglass imagined a fairer life.

I don’t claim to stand among those greats.

Just someone shaped by this place. Grateful for it. And willing to step back into the current.

It’s a tough race. But it’s a hopeful one.

The powers that be will resist. They always do. That’s okay.

I just keep smiling — and moving forward. Enjoying the rapids.

If you believe this region deserves better — if you’re tired of excuses, cynicism, and managed decline — I’m asking you to help.

Read the plan.

Volunteer.

Share this message.

Weekly volunteer meetings will begin March 1.

Let’s build something worthy of this place.

Let’s win..