The summer of 1984 was the summer following my senior year in high school. I was just 17 and had not determined any significant opinions about the world. Somehow I talked my parents into sending me to the Soviet Union and England for 2 weeks that summer. Why? My girlfriend was going, and it seemed like fun. 1984 was the heart of the cold war, and let's say we weren't necessarily friendly with the Soviet Union. Also, at that time, Western culture had not made its way to the Soviet Union. There were no Kentucky Fried Chickens or McDonalds. Areas of the country were absolutely beautiful, especially around Leningrad (now St. Petersburg), and the ordinary citizens were very friendly. We were treated better by the Soviet people than we were during our four days in England. (I was actually spit at in London followed by a comment of "Dirty Americans!") I recognized, even as a stupid 17 year old whose frontal lobe was not fully developed, the Soviet Union was nothing like the United States. When we arrived home, I literally had the desire to kiss the ground. It was then that I truly understood how special it is to live in America. On this Memorial Day, we owe our greatest gratitude for all who gave their life in protecting this great country. We are still doing transfers, let us know if we can help you!
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