Like more than a few Chicagoans, I am the child of a refugee. Near the end of World War II, my late father, then in his early 20s, was plucked out of his village in western Ukraine by Nazi soldiers and forced into labor in Germany. He ran away from the farm he was assigned to, was captured and reassigned, ran away again, and then joined UPA, the Ukrainian underground army.
I’m ever grateful that this nation opened its doors to him. I think refugees such as my father have contributed to the vibrant mix that’s made Chicago such a fascinating city. And I’m proud to live in a country that continues to welcome refugees whose lives have been riven by strife elsewhere.
But then there’s Donald Trump, who’s vowed to deport all Syrian refugees, and possibly close some mosques as well.
