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Why I Love America

In any other nation, my story would be unusual and heroic. But my story is ordinary because America is extraordinary.
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July 2, 2023
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My paternal grandparents and my father escaped the Nazis. Everything they had was taken in the Holocaust. They came to America in 1949 with nothing. My grandfather was a semi-prosperous agricultural man in Europe. In America, he washed dishes. His family lived in a one-bedroom apartment. He had holes in his socks. He often refused to eat so his wife and children could.

My father graduated college, became a schoolteacher, and reached the American middle class. My parents purchased a house on Long Island and paid the mortgage. When Hurricane Gloria belted our home in 1985, my father remained calm. Rebuilding a fence was nothing compared to being shot at. My parents put in an inground swimming pool with beautiful Pagoda lights all around. When my hardened grandfather visited the house, he became emotional. My dad’s words had this tough-as-nails man fighting back tears. “This is OUR house, pop. We own it. Nobody can ever take it away from us.”

My parents are now retired living in a South Florida home they own outright. Their pensions ensure that they will be secure in their home as long as they live.

By saving every nickel and dime for several decades, my grandfather somehow amassed $100,000. Each of his four grandchildren were given $25,000 to attend college. The money went straight to the colleges. My room and board were fully paid for.

My family reminded me repeatedly that people are entitled to nothing. Hard work and honesty were expected. Doing the right things were expected because they were the right things. When I complained at age 14 that Social Studies class was too difficult, my father looked at me and asked, “Did the teacher try to shoot you?” When I replied no, he told me to get upstairs and continue studying. America would give us a fighting chance, but personal responsibility and obligations had to be met. If soldiers could fight and die for freedom, my room could be clean and my grades could be improved.

My college degree was followed by an MBA and a solid career. Becoming a Vice President in the stock brokerage industry was followed by becoming a successful author. My book and speaking tour took me to all 50 states. My wife and I have a combined four homes, none of which we inherited.

My late grandfather is at least twice the man his loving grandson will ever be, as he had so much more to overcome. My father and his father dodged bullets and starvation. My struggles involve uncooperative financial markets and a beloved sports team that refuses to play better despite my screaming at my big screen television.

Only in the United States of America is this upward mobility a consistent, available reality. Loving this country is easy for me because it has given me everything. My grandfather and father were hunted like animals in Poland. In America, we were all free. Lee Greenwood singing “God Bless the USA” gets me misty-eyed because it rings true.

As Americans watch fireworks and munch on hamburgers and hot dogs this July Fourth weekend, my heart is filled with gratitude for our Founding Fathers, our fallen soldiers, our veterans, and our current soldiers.

My eternal thanks rest with almighty God for creating this nation and the late Ray Charles for singing “America, God done shed his grace on thee.”

In any other nation, my story would be unusual and heroic. But my story is ordinary because America is extraordinary.

Former House Speaker Paul Ryan encapsulated the beauty of our red, white and blue miracle: “America is more than just a place. It’s an idea. America is the only country founded on an idea. The place of your birth does not determine the outcome of your life. Your demographic is not your destiny.”

“America is the only country founded on an idea. The place of your birth does not determine the outcome of your life. Your demographic is not your destiny.”

God bless America, now and forever. Thank you, America. Thank you for allowing a child and grandchild of Holocaust survivors to experience what we still call this great American dream.


Eric Golub is a retired stockbrokerage and oil professional living in Los Angeles.

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