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When I was a child, our two-bedroom-one-bathtub saltbox in the boondocks suddenly overflowed with arrival of "The Babushka Brigade."

The old women refugees called themselves “old believers” and “last of their kind.” Until now, they’d lived all their lives in a tiny farm village in a part of Hungary that some said used to belong to former Romania-Yugoslavia-Transylvania-Austro-Hungarian Empire, but would soon be Soviet.

My adoptive father, an immigrant to America himself, had searched for his large Catholic family in the ruins of post-WWII Europe. He’d say: “War is not over because governments say so.” “War is over when enough hearts stop hurting … hating.”

Please take your time and think before you vote.

Know your Candidates
Know their Experience
Know What they stand for