The Backsliding of America, by Dr. Igor Shepherd

A Russian immigrant to the US fears the country he loved is becoming like the country he left. From Dr. Igor Shepherd at lewrockwell.com:

Posterity, you will never know how much it cost the present generation to preserve
your freedom. I hope you will make good use of it. If you do not, I shall
repent in heaven that ever I took half the pains to preserve it.
John Adams-1756

I left the lifeless credos of Russia and moved to Seattle, Washington, in 1993, a few years after the Iron Curtain collapsed. The “perestroika” in the new Russian Federation did little to change the lives of average Russian citizens who were scraping by to feed their families. Mother Russia still felt cold and lifeless, and the people ambled to-and-fro with the same anxieties and suspicions. I was still an active reserve officer for the Strategic Rocket Force when I married my wife, June, an American flight attendant, and moved to the USA. It did not take long for me to notice that there were a lot of churches in and around Seattle. I could not help but consider that maybe the reason America was so awesome was because of their faith in God.

The change for me was enormous. I could not speak fluent English and I was experiencing a way of life that was both astounding and daunting at the same time. Seattle itself was an intoxication to my senses. The fishy smells of the Puget Sound, the vibrant ferry trips to flowery islands, and the quiet hum of luxury cars speeding down the smooth freeways was an unexplainable pleasure. Unlike the citizens in Russia, I noticed people laughed and showed a lot of emotion in public.

When I experienced my first encounter at a fast-food drive-thru I was hooked. My patient wife put up with my need to eat fast food every day for months. But it was my first visit inside the grocery store, standing in front of a long aisle full of all kinds of amazing breads, that the realization of communism versus God hit me. In Russia we had only two choices for bread—dark or white—nothing soft and fancy like the breads before me. As I stood there in that aisle, frozen, gawking, June looked over and caught my angry expression. She asked if I were okay. I did not know how to tell her that I felt cheated and deceived by my country of birth.

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