Because the United States wasn’t just a country to my family. It was a promise.

My father deserted the Nazis and became a prisoner of war. After escaping that nightmare, he picked up drumsticks and juggling pins and went to work for American clubs across Europe—not out of convenience, but out of belief. Belief in a country that stood for something better. My mother and her family became the most successful entertainment act in the USO clubs. She didn’t just perform—she became a star. By 1955, she was on American television, in dinner clubs, on concert hall stages, and she didn’t stop until 1987, when she closed her US career with a triumphant concert at the Hollywood Bowl.

America gave us a home. And we gave America everything we had.

In 1989, we bought a vacation home in none other than Sundance—yes, the Sundance, Robert Redford’s resort. We stayed for 22 years. Then we moved to Rancho Mirage for another five. We lived in some of the most beautiful places on Earth, not as tourists, but as people who had earned the right to call them home.

From World War II until 2016, the United States was good to us. And we loved it back—deeply, fiercely, with every performance, every tax payment, every sunrise over the mountains we chose to live beneath.

Then Trump was elected.

The day after, we sold everything. And we have never returned.

Let that sink in: after 54 years of paying US taxes, after decades of entertaining American audiences, after living the so-called American Dream in the most stunning corners of your country—we left overnight. Not because we stopped loving America. Because America stopped being what we loved.

I dreamed of spending the third chapter of my life in some lost, beautiful place in New Mexico, Wyoming, or Arizona. I even considered going back to Utah. The Four Corners—that sacred, silent, red-soil meeting point of worlds—was my dream.

That dream is shattered. Not by an earthquake or a recession, but by Trump and the history of the last ten years. By the rise of cruelty disguised as strength. By the surrender of common sense. By a government that feels less like a democracy and more like a takeover.

So yes, I don’t just see this as a political failure. I take it personally.

You might say I don’t have the right—because I left, because I’m not currently on US soil, because my blood isn’t American. But thinking again: my family paid taxes in the USA for 54 years. We entertained your troops, your families, your television audiences. We bought homes, we paid our bills, we lived by your rules and believed in your ideals. We have every right to feel betrayed by the current US government.

This is why I will always be vocal about what happens in the USA. Not out of spite—out of grief. You didn’t just ruin a political system. You broke my dreams. You broke my heart.

I will deal with it. I have dealt with worse. But I am not going to be silent. Not ever.

Because some betrayals demand a voice. And this one? It has my family’s name written all over it.

Why do I take Trump’s government taking over the USA personally?
Because the United States was never just a country to my family.
It was a promise.