In early 1973, a few months before he died, my grandfather Abraham Ravinsky opened for the last time a old, yellowing, musty smelling photo album.

"You see this one, Joey?" he said, pointing to a picture of a child. "He was killed by Hitler."

Then he'd point to a group shot of family members, all wiped ot "by Hitler." This man who had survived the Czar's pogroms in Russia, and gotten to the U.S. right the Communists (who he hated) took power later learned that many of his beloved, left-behind relatives had been murdered by the Nazis or died in concentration camps. But his beloved wife Rose, and daughters Ruth, Anne and Helen were safe in the U.S. and he raised his family here.

The uprisings we're getting wind of have the feel of revolution, not just discontent. I have an original analysis here.