Today would have been my mothers 83rd birthday
My mom was born in November of 1933 in Frankfurt Germany. When she was 9 years old Hitler made her and all the children (the future of the 1,000 year Reich) leave the cities so as not to be impacted by Allied bombing. Because of the lack of transportation, she had to walk for miles and miles in the Bavarian Mountain snow. The results of this is that she got frostbite and when she was pregnant with me, the change of hormones caused that frost bite to turn to gangrene and she had to have her left leg amputated with just local anesthetics in order to save my life.
She married an American soldier who was sent to Vietnam in 1961 and was shot soon after that and caused my mom to become a widow at 29 years of age. She later had a stroke at 39 when I was 16 and passed away.
I share this because first of all, I want to honor what she went through and her courage, but also because of the lessons she taught me. I have thought about her often during this election. Growing up she had warned me about how Hitler incrementally rose to power and often when some one was speaking on tv she would point out the dangers of what they were saying. Many of the things she warned me about are some of the same attitudes and sort of statements Mr. Trump has made during this campaign.
She instilled in a great passion for peace and justice and even more importantly the need and duty to take part in the civic conversion of our community
I can only imagine what she went through; being torn from her family at age 9, living half her childhood in a war like state, losing a limb, emigrating to a strange country, becoming a war widow at 29 with a young son to raise by herself. Well done good and faithful servant!!
I wish to honor her memory, courage and spirit by accepting that great right we all have as citizens and getting out to VOTE!!! For Hillary and I ask you to join me!!!
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by the values she taught you through her sacrifices and her courage. 
and a war bride. Before it was all said and done, her brother was lost somewhere in Italy, her father killed near Russia. Her mother remarried, but her husband wound up dying from complications of having both legs amputated after a factory accident. My mother had my sister at 17, and told stories of trying to get to bomb shelters with the baby.
When we were in Frankfort during my father's tour of duty in the 1950s, my grandmother died from gas asphyxiation - no one really knew if it was a accident or on purpose.
The horrors of war.
I join you in celebrating your mother's bravery, and my mother's bravery, and the bravery of all those in the world today and yesterday, and tomorrow who experience the unspeakable horror and pain of war.
