First, don’t let the cross intimidate you; that’s how I arrived here. Everyone has a unique journey. All faiths are welcome, but none are required.
I didn’t plan to start something. I just got tired—of the noise, the division, and the way even close friends were tearing each other apart over politics, theology, and headlines.
All Common Ground began as a response to that exhaustion. It’s not a church or a platform—just a place for people who still care, who want to listen instead of argue, and who believe love, humility, and shared humanity matter more than winning.
I’m still figuring it out, too. But I know we need each other. And that’s enough to begin.
Eric Gajewski – Founder, All Common Ground
I grew up in South Florida, immersed in both hip-hop and heavy metal. That unlikely mix led me to become a DJ—spinning at parties, on local radio, and eventually producing Miami-style bass and rap albums full-time. Music gave me a voice, a stage, and, for a while, the kind of life I thought I wanted: fast cars, beachfront living, and constant motion. But it didn’t last.
In the middle of that music era, I got married, divorced, and engaged again. My fiancée and I had a “Born Again” experience, but it didn’t take—not deeply enough. Just days before our wedding, the engagement fell apart. I was spiritually hollow, emotionally broken, and addicted. I needed more than a moment—I needed long-term, holistic healing.
That healing came at Calvary House in Fort Lauderdale, where I lived for a year in recovery, worked for the church, and met the woman who would become my wife. Our son was born at the end of 2012, and by June 2013, we started a new chapter in North Carolina.
I’m a Born Again Christian, but I don’t preach fear or exclusion. I’m a Christian Universalist—someone who believes God’s love reaches everyone, in every corner of life. I’ve also spent over 20 years in digital marketing, helping businesses grow using algorithms that, I now see, often divide more than they connect.
All Common Ground was born from all of this: the high highs, the rock bottoms, and the deep conviction that people are more than their opinions or mistakes. This isn’t a platform for debate. It’s a space for presence. A community where we can show up as we are, ask hard questions, and grow—together.