My Father Worked Proudly for Both Parties at Seven Inaugurations. I Can’t Stand Trump — But I’ll Be There For Dad.

From Reagan to Obama, Dad taught me that patriotism transcends partisanship.

Illustration by Casey Roonan

Late in the afternoon, one of us – let’s be honest, it was my little sister – started the most epic brawl in the history of Estrin family vacations.

Allison was five. I was seven. We were sightseeing in Washington, D.C., and the two of us came to blows right in front of the U.S. Constitution.

Allison yelled something like, “I’m going to bite your face off,” balled her pudgy hand into a tiny fist and whacked me in the jaw. I grabbed Allison by the lapels of her coat and slammed her against the thick glass that protects our nation’s founding document. The walls of the National Archives echoed with my war cry – a juvenile, piercing arghhhhhh!

Mom froze, her face turned pale. She was the closest adult, but a police officer got to us first. He grabbed us by our collars and yanked us apart. He held Allison and me aloft, our feet dangling just above the floor. We were busted. It was all her fault.