Friday August 15th

An Immigrant story.. After several debates on immigration in the political forums, deaths in INS detainment and this latest case [ »www.nytimes.com/2008/08/13/nyreg···f=slogin ], I want to say a few things.. 95% of people come here to better their lot. Here's a little part of my story... We left Ukraine with the pre-requisite $100 US dollars that the Soviet Union was kind enough to reimburse people in those days. Of course the fact they left apartments, furnishings, and occasionally a car, it's quite a fair trade, as you all can see. My folks worked minimum wage jobs to save up enough for a down-payment on a house after we moved from Memphis, TN (where I spent time due to a childhood cancer - and all my bills were paid by a charitable organization, not the tax payer.) My mom was an MD back in the Ukraine, but the lack of similar standards between east and west (ie, every piece of hospital gear, from syringes to all sorts of medical implements and gear was sterilized with boiling water and bactericidal cleaning solution when available (which was rare!). I think the think that blew my mind the most in a Western hospital was all the single use plastic syringes. I remember big arse metal todos in the USSR. My dad, originally a chemist, found work with Admiral Plastics. In 1993, Admiral Plastics was acquired by Setco, the packaging and tubed products division of McCormick, Inc. They had an excellent fringe benefits package with a 401k plan. I also convinced my father to invest in 3,000 additional shares at $11 each and put it in his and my name. I cashed out in early 2005 after my dad passed on, with the shares being worth a little over $38 dollars, the investment being worth something like $285,000 dollars. And that's not counting his 401k. Why did I post this? Perhaps to shatter the stereotype of people coming here to exploit the system. Of course every family is different and some would consider the above amount a windfall, however, it was earned by a lifetime of hard work. My dad had a quadrupple bypass and a stroke before passing on, so believe me, the man put in his "dues". I am very thankful to my parents for teaching me many lessons early, one of those was unrelenting work. My folks are the type of people that never take a sick day unless it's absolutely necessary. Part of this was a memoir to my father. I miss him and think of him daily... Perhaps this isn't the right forum for this type of post; if so the mods can move it to Journals and Blogs as I'm basically ranting. However when I hear and see these talking heads who are sitting in a cushy chair and talking for a living lambaste people like my dad as lazy exploiters, I wish more people knew the "truth" of coming from another country. It begins on day 1 when your kid goes to school and understands nothing. I almost became a habitual truant in 4th grade because I simply didn't understand a thing, and none of the teachers seemed to notice. Phrases like "take out your vocabularies and read the second definition on page 419" are hard to perform when you haven't a clue what a "vocabulary" is. So I started cutting school.. I missed probably three weeks straight, daily expecting a dreaded call from the school which never came. It was only after some astute neighbors spotted me playing during school time and told my parents that they found out. Skipping school was the equivalent of selling crack in USSR for kids. That was the last thing a parent wanted to hear, and you're guaranteed that someone from the school will get in touch with the parents after a day or two to inquire whether the child is sick or is skipping school. Back then it was one of the big no-nos. My dad went livid, taking me to the school the next day (I attended PS 226 in Brooklyn) and asking them to place me in grade 1, as there was no ESL program at the time, and I couldn't understand a word. Wisely, the principal refused, and put me into an advanced class instead as she noticed I wasn't stupid, just didn't know the language and was being teased like you wouldn't believe.. At the time I was the only Russian kid attending PS 226. "The Commie Nerd / The Commie Geek" became my middle name. One day my parents gave me a hard earned 50 cents to go buy a TV Guide and a gummy bear for myself. On the way back, I encountered the neighborhood bully, who promptly took away the TV guide and threw it into a puddle in the street. Of course now I understand that to him, it was just another TV Guide, but to me, it was our TV schedule for the next week, a hard earned 50 cents. At the time we had a TV, matresses and my computer, no furniture as my folks were saving up for a downpayment on a house. The act of taking a magazine which my parents gave me money for and destroying it woke up something in me. I kicked the bully's arse. Let's just say no-one bothered me again in PS 226. I mentioned a computer. My folks bought one for me when I caught the personal computer bug (and at the time, you all remember how expensive they were). Apple ][c was way out of my price league, so I started with an equally good, even superior in many ways 6502c powered Atari 800, with 16KB of ram, expandable to 48KB. A floppy drive was way out of my league as far as price, so they bought me the tape recorder. And of course, a 300 baud modem. By 5th grade, I was fairly fluent in English and more than fluent in 6502/6510 ASM. By 6th grade, I desperately wanted a printer. This was the age of 9 pin dot matrix printers costing 500 dollars and sounding like a machine gun... My father made a deal with me - he'll buy me a printer as long as I try to submit an article for publication to one of the magazines I read (Compute!, Antic and Byte). I submitted my first article at 13 to all three magazines. Compute! replied, and accepted the article for publication in an upcomming compendium of Atari programs in book form. They were floored when they found out a 13 year old wrote it, and asked me if I wanted to collaborate with an editor in writing Compute!'s 2nd Book of 6502C Assembler. You can guess what my answer was! For the article which was already accepted, I received a $2750.00 Royalty Check at the outset (which my dad promptly framed heh) and for the next 5-7 years or so, I would get about 400-500 dollars every 3 months. I was also provided with detailed info on how many books were sold, given away for publicity, whether and when the next edition is due and how many books the next edition is planning on printing. My last Royalty check from ABC Publications, which owned Compute! was in 1993 in the grand total of 29 cents! When I first received the royalty check, I bought my folks a VCR. If anyone remembers those giant JVCs with colored buttons which were around $500 dollars back then. The rest I gave to dad for the house downpayment. I My folks were able to save up $40,000 and buy a six family house in 1984. I'm glad that I help At the time, property was exploding in price. We fixed the house up, changed it to a gas burner, painted all the apartments and basement, cleaned out the overgrown back yard, and sold it in late 1987 for $285,000. I did all the translating, paperwork, talking with insurance people, mortgage people, heck I remember I even arranged for the termite inspection. Imagine a 14 year old kid sitting at the closing. Anything received in the mail - I translated for my parents. Of course eventually they learned the language, but it was a lot harder for them than for a child, me... I really miss my dad tonight. He wasn't a saint, and had his faults, but unquestionably his actions and determination bettered my life. I wish I could say thank you.... Time to step away from the lectern and get to bed. Hope you all had fun reading! -- Regards, Dave