I admit I am a sleepless political junkie. Looking back as a 20-year, five-member military family, we were living in Fargo, N.D. My late husband was assigned as an Army advisor to the Minnesota National Guard. He was traveling, training and doing lots of community work.
I was enrolled in Minnesota State College (now Minnesota University) taking classes. Among the classes was political science. This was the year, 1963, that President Kennedy was assassinated. At this time and even in later years, I was not particularly a dedicated Democrat.
As the unholy, dishonest, ego-seeking man named Trump came on the scene, I quickly joined the Mathews County Democratic Committee and went to work. I knew his history of bankruptcies in the late ’70s and early ’80s. At this same time, we were struggling to build a local business through hard times. Bankruptcy was never an option for us, though suggested by an attorney. Hard work and community involvement was. Trump ...
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