[ [link removed] ]Andrew and his father.
My father grew up above a grocery his
parents owned in Schenectady, NY. A sign from Romanoff’s Quality Food
Store hangs in my home today.
My grandmother came to the U.S. from Belarus; she was smuggled out of
Slutsk, or so we’ve heard, in a hay wagon. My grandfather came from
Poland; he died when my father was only 17.
That tragedy—and the economic insecurity that followed—shaped Dad for the
rest of his life. He never understood why I would pursue a career that
seemed so uncertain, dependent on the whims of voters.
I told my father once that I wanted to save the world. He said, “Some
people don’t want to be saved.”
We’ve never seen eye-to-eye on politics. But as my father struggles now,
after a series of falls and strokes, those arguments seem trivial.
I love my dad—I just hope he can understand me when I tell him. I wish you
and your family a very happy Father’s Day.
Contribute to Andrew’s campaign: [link removed]
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