A Passionate Devotion to the United States: Drago Dziernan

You may not know who this man is. He isn’t famous. But he grew up in post-World War II Poland. He tells us in his book, A Pledge to America, that he was a lout in his youth. He was continually getting into fights; for him, it was a matter of survival. Early in the book he tells us that fighting meant living:

This is a story about a life spent fighting, which began well before I picked up a rifle to fight on America’s behalf. In houses and classrooms, schoolyards and streets, I learned how to fight, and I learned what to fight for.

At a young age he learned that only using his fists might put his life at risk:

Since I hadn’t quite gotten the hang of using my hands in self-defense (I was only nine years old at this point), I decided to start carrying a steel pipe in my school bag. If someone followed me, I’d hide in a stairwell or behind a door and meet him, pipe in hand.

Fighting meant much more than pursuing a sport. It was a means of fighting the totalitarian regime:

Since sparring in the gym could only teach us so much, street fighting became my second classroom. I didn’t just want to be good at fighting; I wanted to be effective so I could handle whatever situation I found myself in.

Meanwhile, he tried to survive Communist/Socialist rule in Poland. His own father was a dedicated Communist and wouldn’t tolerate criticism of the Communist Party from anyone. Eventually his father abandoned the family, leaving them to struggle with renting a roof over their heads and for food.

As Drago grew into his late teens and 20s, he began to secretly criticize the leadership of Poland and the secret police. Learning to live in this totalitarian environment was demanding, especially with Drago’s aggressive attitude toward life. Soon, though, he began to realize his affiliation with the Solidarity movement, and discovered a whole new way to live. He was thrown in prison, and only later was labelled a political prisoner; the government insisted that no one was resisting their stifling rule, so there were “no political prisoners.” Later on, he was called a political prisoner when the people’s resistance was becoming overwhelming.

One time he was deeply moved by his community’s demonstration of the resistance:

Following the implementation of martial law on that night, December 13, 1981, in my city of Lodz, thousands of us would turn off our lights every month on the same day that started martial law to show solidarity against the regime. Whole city blocks would be completely dark except for a single candle in every window; twenty, thirty, forty apartment buildings all in a row, each twenty to thirty stories tall, each window with a candle in it. If you didn’t see a candle in a window, you could assume the person living there was someone who supported or worked for the regime. I’ll never forget the sight.

He was freed from prison and learned after the Soviet Union collapsed that the Poles had been told lies about their country, about their history, and about the United States. Drago, for one, had always admired the U.S. and finally decided that he could no longer tolerate watching over his shoulder for the secret police, and went to the U.S. Embassy for help to go to America:

When I walked onto the plane that would take me away from Poland, I was twenty-three years old and only had a duffel bag full of clothes and basic toiletries, the $25 I’d purchased, and the life experience to give me the confidence to look the future in the eye and say, I’m ready for whatever comes next.

Leaving Poland for the U.S. was probably the beginning of his transformation. The brutal persona he had maintained, the ongoing fighting, was left behind as he began to settle into his new life in America:

This is how my life in America began. My first job was as a janitor at a local church, cleaning toilets, floors, and windows. It honestly took me a long time to realize that not only had I made it to America, I was here to stay. That sense of permanence took a while. Once it did, I dedicated myself to being the best American that America could have.

Throughout the entire book, Drago’s devotion to this country never changed:

As time passed, I came to understand that life in this country wasn’t just about working hard day in and day out but also about building friendships and communities with the people around you and helping others. The more people I met and welcomed into my life, the happier I became, and I regularly had to pause and count my blessings that I had been given a chance to do any of it.

He trained to be an accelerated free-fall jumpmaster (parachuting) and in 1991, he became an American citizen. He joined the military, insisting on signing up for the grueling Navy Seals. It’s no surprise that his performance was fearless and gritty, making it through all the demands of the training, mostly with flying colors.

To make his life complete, Drago was determined to marry, and he found a very fine woman, Rachel. Drago met Rachel online. That in itself provided its own challenges. After they emailed over time, she flew to San Diego to meet him, and then he followed up by driving to her home in Ohio. They eventually married, but there is only one way to characterize their relationship: they were completely devoted to each other. Rachel showed saintly patience in “domesticating” him and helping him adjust to civilian life; Drago made a radical effort to change his attitudes and behaviors as a husband, father, friend and American citizen.

Drago and Rachel had their share of disagreements and arguments: Drago was still trying to understand the subtleties of American culture, and Rachel was challenged by understanding Drago’s speech with its heavy Polish accent.

But they survived and thrived.

What motivated me to write about Drago Dzieran was his unwavering devotion to this country, his family and friends. He never gave up his commitment to freedom and to finding a way to master the English language, heavy accent and all. Today he provides an outstanding example of being an admirable man, citizen, husband and father in the United States of America.