From the area that is now Belarus (then sometimes Poland, sometimes Russia); and from Hungary. My father, too, fought in World War II, in the Pacific Theater. I am your father's age (exactly, I hate to admit). I do not remember facing overt discrimination in the way you describe, perhaps because I was a rather quiet girl.
What I do remember from my childhood was several things: feeling the "otherness" very strongly in ways big and small, especially in school and at holiday times, where I imagined everyone was eating those sparkling glazed hams while my grandmother served up a big plate of boiled tongue and kishke (stuffed intestines); and, then again, remembering how deeply engaged my family and my Jewish community was with supporting the civil rights movement. Because they remembered the hate and discrimination. My rabbi was one of the clergy who was called upon to surround Dr. King when he marched in Selma. And I remember what he told us kids when he returned. He said that no matter what instances of discrimination we might experience (not being able to join certain clubs because of a secret quota; knowing our parents had not been able to buy houses in certain areas because of redlining that excluded Jews), that we needed to imagine what it was like to be a kid whose face was black, who was judged—just by someone simply looking at the color of his or her skin—as being inferior. They didn't even have to know anything about them: they were judged. We were taught what "white" privilege was very early, even though we didn't feel entirely white (read "normal" Christian Americans) ourselves!
Back in the late 50s and early 60s, Jews (or at least a good many of them) stood up for civil rights because they understood. Today, they are standing up against the bigotry of anti-immigration sentiment, because they understand.
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