My father was from a hard knocks background rooted in the Great Depression. He saw his dad, a carpenter, get down to his last $5, When he amazingly finished college, thanks largely to the Free Masons, his primary concern was getting a government job for security. For more than 30 years he was an FBI agent. Much of his work was done during the Cold War years.
As a child I was fascinated to look on top of his bureau where I would find black and white photos of grim Slavic looking men. These were Soviet agents that my dad relentlessly tracked around the Washington, D.C. area. While my dad could never talk about his work, I knew from him that Russia was an enemy of the United States, as it is now.
My father is now deceased, buried in Quantico Cemetery for valiant service in WWII. What I miss most about him is his unwavering honesty. If my patriotic, Republican father was alive today, he would be livid over Russian tampering with our elections. He would also be enraged that Trump Jr. and Kushner held a clandestine meeting with Soviets that had the potential to alter the U.S. election results. “How could any American abide this travesty?”, he would question. My dad would call it for what it is — criminal. As an American history major, he would be dismayed at how quickly Americans forget their own history.
St. Simons Island