I grew up in the wake of the Great Depression and World War II, the child of first-generation Jewish Americans who, despite their lack of formal education, had a profound interest in and knowledge of history and of the social and political issues of their time. They, like most of their friends, understood all too well the tradition of white nationalism in our country and the systematic exclusion of minorities from the mainstream. Their religious and ethnic affiliation created barriers to higher education and jobs in big business.

Still, their faith in our democratic system was strong and their hope for a better future was undaunted. Despite the adversities they endured, they achieved the American Dream by launching two successful small businesses amid the relative peace and prosperity of post-war America and sent their children on to achieve high-level professional success.

Around our dinner table we did not discuss the latest fads, celebrities or entertainments. Our conversations centered on ethical discussions, lessons from history and, not infrequently, the politics of the day. Our meals were seasoned with vignettes of the unpleasant experiences my parents had endured due to prejudice. They knew what it was like to be regarded as not "real Americans." Often they recounted the horrors of the Holocaust, saying how fortunate we were that their parents had emigrated here decades before it took place. We were admonished to never forget and to become well-informed, thoughtful voters. We were enjoined to speak out against injustice while never losing our love for this flawed, but still great, country.

"It must never happen here," they warned, but to my young mind this was an impossibility. "Happen here?" I thought. "It could never." Even if a bigoted tyrant were to seize power, weren't the American people, unlike the Germans of the 1930s, basically good and compassionate? Surely they would never stand for such a thing.

One day my dad said something that made me question this naive certainty. An avid supporter of the civil rights movement, he never manifested enmity toward any group. He employed many people of color, treated them like family members and paid them well. I knew, because I worked side by side with them during my high school years. So I was a bit taken aback to hear him say, "We're lucky in this country to have the blacks, because if a Hitler ever came into power, he'd go after them and not the Jews."

It set me thinking. What if someone like Hitler did get into power and send his storm troopers into black ghettos, knocking on doors and pulling people out of their homes to be sent off to concentration camps? What would Dad do? What would I do? What would most people do? Would we stand up to and oppose the armed thugs, or would we remain quiet? "It's terrible, but thank God it's not us," most of us would likely would be thinking. Self preservation is a powerful instinct.

Today, our would-be dictator of a president is ever more emboldened to make clear his racism and to encourage like-minded people. He has already subjected nonwhite immigrants to extremely inhumane treatment. He has had the audacity to accuse American congresswomen of color, who merely disagree with his policies, of hating America and to tell them to "go back to where they came from." And, even worse, he has a large base of supporters who love it.

Incredibly, but beyond doubt, it is happening here. Of course we can vote against this man and the reactionary cadre who are complicit in this national scandal. Voting them out of office should be a slam dunk.

But what if, in the coming elections, the Democrats, as has been too often the case, snatch defeat from the jaws of victory and permit Donald Trump and company to unleash the full force of their bigotry? To paraphrase Al Jolson, "Folks, you ain't seen nothin' yet."

What then? What will I do? What will you do?