I am the grandson of Polish immigrants who were born in Rzeszów, Jarosław, Popowo, and Grajewo. In 1911, 1912, and 1916, they crossed the Atlantic in steerage, where they had little privacy and security, inadequate sanitary conditions, and poor food. They were processed at Ellis Island. Before they were permitted to legally enter the United States, they had to have a medical examination, a job, and a sponsor. These requirements were in place to ensure that immigrants would not be a burden on the government and taxpayers. My grandparents settled in “The Bush” and “South Chicago,” two neighborhoods near U.S. Steel South Works. They weren’t afraid of dirty, tough jobs. Both of my grandfathers worked in the steel mills. They gradually learned English. They bought homes. They raised families. They and their children endured the Great Depression. They wanted to become good Americans, so they seized the opportunities that life in the United States offered. I am privileged to be the grandson of four Polish peasants who had the courage to journey into the unknown and the tenacity to pursue their American dream despite the difficulties they encountered.

My father served in the Army during World War II. He never said much about his experience other than mentioning that he had been a medic. I found his DD-214 after he died and learned that he was in the Rhineland Campaign. One book about the Rhineland Campaign described it as “the last killing ground.” I can’t imagine what my father might have seen and experienced. My father taught me to put my heart, soul, and best effort into everything I do and to appreciate the nose and taste of 10-year old Laphroaig. My mother was always there when I walked through the front door of our home. She made the best gołąbki and klupskies in the universe. She was the foundation of our home. I can still hear her voice telling me to take responsibility for my life and to hold myself accountable for the consequences of my actions. My parents worked hard to instill the values of “The Greatest Generation” in me. I am privileged to have parents who bequeathed to me a love of family and country, a sense of honor, and the strength of character to take responsibility for my life.

I served three years in the Army, including about eleven months in Vietnam with HHC, 3rd Brigade, 1st Cavalry Division (Separate). I had mixed feelings about my military service for many years. With the passage of time and the words of a Vietnam War combat veteran, I realized that I had learned important lessons in the Army and in Vietnam. There were tests of character and ability to lead. I learned how to work with and depend on people who looked different, or spoke with a different accent, or held different values. My experiences and the people I met during those three years helped to shape me as a man, a husband, a father, a grandfather, a friend, and a colleague. I am privileged to be a U.S. Army veteran.

I received a Bachelor of Science in Accounting in 1980 from Calumet College. In 1981, I passed the exam to become a Certified Public Accountant. I am privileged to have accomplished both while attending night classes and working a full-time job.

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