It could very well have been my home country had my parents immigrated to Winnipeg in 1920 to join their cousins who, like my folks, had also fled Eastern Europe in 1921 and the bloodletting and savagery of a three-year civil war between Poles, Ukrainians, Russians, Reds, Whites, Brits, French, and Americans, often with Jews as its main targets.
Instead, they chose to live in Brooklyn, U.S.A. The Good Ol’ U.S.A. Home to the Land of the Free and Home of the Brave, empty slogans and examples of American Exceptionalism, but a mere catchphrase, no more than a contrived and clever PR term.
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