My ancestors came to America because this country offered what no other country did – equal opportunity to be the best one could be. No American could be denied the right to own property they had paid for with their sweat, smarts and willingness to take a risk. And boy howdy, did they take a risk.

They entered America through Ellis Island and moved to North Dakota, where winters are long and cold, but the soil is rich and hard work is rewarded with bumper crops and fat livestock. Through wars, mosquitos and depressions, they just worked harder, fixing what was broken with bare hands, ingenuity and maybe some baling wire. There was no supermarket, no Home Depot, certainly no EBT cards or free school lunches. They repaired their own shoes, cut their own hair, and healed their sick cows. They gathered to play polka music on Saturday nights, and danced like there was no tomorrow. And they built a church down the road on their own time with their bare, calloused hands using stones they hauled from their fields.

They enlisted and marched off to defend liberty, laying down their lives for people they did not know because it was the right thing to do.