I am thankful to have had parents who were given the opportunity to escape Nazi Germany's maniacal tyrant and came to NYC to walk and breathe in the air of freedom. My father who studied to be an architect began his life in his adopted country by picking up cast-away-try-on hats from the floor of the S.Klein Department Store on Union Square and 14th St, a long "pick" in hand. He then did draughting work until he got his architectural license In 1948, and spent his life building NYC's Middle Income Housing projects - the client being the ILGWU.
My mother had sewing skills, taking jobs tailoring for different stores and was for many years the major contributor to the family income. We also lived with my maternal grandparents - my Omi and Opa. I adored Omi whose bed I would rush to on Sunday mornings hopping under the fluffy down cover to receive the warmth and comfort my anxious parents were incapable of giving me.
My Omi had other grandchildren, (her son's daughters) in Holland where once a year she would visit (usually on the SS Rotterdam) - and to this day the sight of an ocean liner will bring tears to my eye accompanying a panicky flutter to my heart.
If my parents were alive today, the very fact that Donald Trump could win the Presidency of the country that saved their lives and a nation which they venerated, would have caused them deeply felt grief, fear, and the dread of deja vu.