Are you voting for the guy who told his nephew to let disabled son die?

In a blog post that made the rounds on social media last month, Sean Dietrich described a memorable scene that occurred during his stopover at Kansas City International Airport on July 19, the day the CrowdStrike outage caused chaos at airports around the world. Dietrich painted a vivid picture of worn-out travelers stuck in line and near the breaking point because of the delays.

A teenager with Down syndrome appeared in the midst of this somber scene and began chatting with strangers and offering them free hugs. His delightful, indefatigable presence caused even the most irritated traveler to begin to soften, smile and laugh.

I couldn’t help but recall that young man’s warmth and compassion as I was reading a recent commentary published in Time magazine by Fred C. Trump III, the nephew of Donald Trump. Fred writes about the challenges and triumphs of raising his son William, who was born with a rare genetic disorder that resulted in intellectual and developmental disabilities. Fred and his wife, Lisa, have devoted their lives to supporting William and raising awareness about the needs of others with disabilities.

Fred recounts two incidents in which his uncle questioned whether people like William should be given the freedom to live and thrive in our country. First, he shares the story of how the former president met with disability rights advocates in 2020. Fred helped to facilitate the discussion, and initially thought his uncle was receptive to the idea of improving government policies for people with disabilities. After the meeting, Fred spoke privately with his uncle in the Oval Office. The president complained about the financial cost of caring for people with severe disabilities, and then said: “The shape they’re in, all the expenses, maybe those kinds of people should just die.”

At this point in Donald Trump’s long and contentious public life, there is very little left he can say that should surprise any of us who’ve been paying even a modicum of attention to his often-cruel outbursts. Nevertheless, his suggestion that people with intellectual and developmental disabilities are better off dead should still cause outrage even among his most fervent supporters.

Fred relates another conversation in which he asked his uncle to financially assist with William’s care. “I don’t know,” Donald responded. “He doesn’t recognize you. Maybe you should just let him die and move down to Florida.” After recovering from the shock of hearing those words, Fred forcefully asserted that his son does recognize his own father.

In his commentary’s closing paragraph, Fred writes: “If we couldn’t change (my uncle’s) feelings about William, that was his loss. He would never feel the love and connection that William offered us daily.”

Parents of children with intellectual and developmental disabilities (and almost anyone who has spent time with them) understand the love and connection that Fred describes. The travelers stuck at KCI who met the gregarious young man with Down syndrome got the chance to understand that love and connection. After spending much of my professional life working with children with disabilities, I feel blessed to say that I understand that love and connection, too. But Donald Trump doesn’t, and perhaps he never will.

Of course, Trump is not alone in history.

Propaganda by Germany’s Third Reich depicted people with disabilities as “useless eaters” who threatened the economic stability of the nation and the so-called purity of the “Aryan race.” When the Nazis came to power in 1933, they began sterilizing people with disabilities. Later, they began killing them en masse.

To our country’s great shame, the Third Reich was inspired by the despicable policies that spread across the U.S. in the first half of the 20th century. More than 30 states passed compulsory sterilization laws for anyone deemed to have genetic illnesses or conditions.

Tragically, 31 states and Washington, D.C., still permit their courts to order the sterilization of people with disabilities. The process is far more complicated today, but the outcome is the same: the denial of reproductive freedom to marginalized people. How much further might the rights of people with disabilities erode under the leadership of a president who is incapable of seeing their innate humanity?

There’s an endless torrent of questions about what a second Trump term would entail. Mass deportations, weakened environmental regulations, and increased tax breaks for the ultrarich are just some of the many possibilities. Maybe you wholeheartedly agree with these potential policies and you’re looking forward to voting for Trump in November.

But when you’re alone and on the verge of casting your ballot, I urge you to remember that kid at KCI Airport, bringing joy to weary travelers. And I urge you to seriously consider the implications of giving power to someone who doesn’t care whether that young man — and millions of others like him — live or die.

Nathaniel Ross Kelly is a writer and lifelong advocate for marginalized children. He wrote this for the Kansas City (Mo.) Star.