Iannuccilli: Time on Ellis Island
Monday, October 07, 2019
When I give presentations, there is an emotional point I reach and for which I need to take a deep breath to continue. It happens when I speak of family, particularly the heroism of my grandparents and their arrival to America.
Their courage was undaunted. I experienced that courage (to a small degree) and was filled with emotion when I visited Ellis Island and The Statue of Liberty last weekend.
As we left Battery Park in Manhattan on the ferry to The Statue, there was a moment when I was able to glimpse her through the window of the boat. I backed away from the window, trying to experience a look that one might have when seeing her through the porthole of a ship, just as my grandparents might when they arrived here in the early 1900s from Italy. Imagine how they felt. Imagine the emotions that welled in their chests …anxiety, excitement, pride, hope, and utter fright. Tears welled as I tried to feel their courage and fears. Sitting nearby was a young mother pointing out Lady Liberty to her children. I could not help but mention, “The statue is the first thing my grandparents saw when they arrived in America.”
GET THE LATEST BREAKING NEWS HERE -- SIGN UP FOR GOLOCAL FREE DAILY EBLAST“Really?” I took pride in explaining where they came from and why, finishing by saying, “When you get to The Statue, look for the poem by Emma Lazarus at its base. Part of it says, ‘Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free’. My grandparents were among those yearning masses.”
I appreciated her echo. “Really?”
After visiting The Statue, we took the ferry to Ellis Island; another emotional bolt as Diane and I stood speechless picturing our grandparents surviving the tests to make it through. I will write more of The Island in another piece, but there is another observation that to me was so very important. Of the hundreds and hundreds of people who traveled on these ferries and visited these sites along with us last week, many were seemingly newer arrivals to America. They were eager to see Ellis Island and, from the variety of languages I heard, my guess is that, although they were much younger than we, their enthusiasm was just as current.
I heard very little English. I heard no Italian. Rather, I heard a remarkable panoply of languages … different tones, rhythms, inflections, speeds … all of which I wished I could speak because of the beauty and rhythm of the spoken song.
I was pleased that they were visiting these National Parks to learn of the roots of this great country. I was pleased to see them pointing out the monuments while telling the stories to their children. I suspect none of them had ancestors that came through The Island. I realized then, that I was looking at tomorrow while reflecting upon yesterday, and with that look forward, I saw what immigrants of one hundred years ago, my grandparents among them, did for us and for this country.
Yes, it was an emotional day.
Ed Iannuccilli is the author of "Growing up Italian" and "What Ever Happened to Sunday Dinner?" and "My Story Continues" can be found here.
Related Articles
- Iannuccilli: Gum Chewing
- Iannuccilli: The Fulfillment of Graduations
- Iannuccilli: Doings on The 4th
- Iannuccilli: A Leap for Alzheimer’s - 2020 For 2020
- Iannuccilli Talks Healthcare, Berkshires, and Bullying—on LIVE
- Iannuccilli: I Flunk the Draft Test
- Iannuccilli: I Have My Grandfather’s Diaries
- Iannuccilli: Of Peepers & Mayflies
- Iannuccilli: Bullied, I Guess
- Iannuccilli: Wireless in Rhode Island
- Iannuccilli: What to Keep of Your Parents’ Belongings
- Iannuccilli: How Old Do You Feel?
- Iannuccilli: What’s Your Favorite Number?
- Iannuccilli: Trying to Understand Time
- Iannuccilli: Are Friendships Governed by the Passage of Time?
- Iannuccilli: Dad Handles the Asbestos
