Statue Ellis Symphony

This is not a new musical arrangement.  It's shorthand for my extremely busy day.

Statue = Statue of Liberty
Ellis = Ellis Island
Symphony = Symphony Space (offers literature and film programs as well as performing arts)

Statue of Liberty
I left my apartment yesterday at 6:30am to get down to Battery Park.  Even though I had a timed ticket for 8am to go over to the Statue of Liberty, I was scarred from my last experience trying to do this tour.  (There was a two-hour wait without a reserved ticket.)  I figured they loaded the boat around 7:30 and left at 8am.  In reality, they loaded the boat at 8:30-ish and we left the dock around 8:50.  Oh well.

I reserved a ticket without crown access, but I had monument access.  If you'll pardon the pun, accessing the monument was, well, monumental.  There was yet another security line (in addition to the security check to get on the boat) with intense scrutiny.  In the interest of preserving the safety of the statue, I won't detail what that security is, but it amounted to yet another line that took about 30 minutes to get through.

Being inside the base of the monument was interesting.  There was a museum that described the history of the statue, some of the controversy around it, why the French gave it to the US, how it was shipped and assembled, etc.  The original torch (as seen in the picture to the left) was also on display. It was damaged when new lights were installed.

I learned that Emma Lazarus (the woman who penned the poem that included "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free...") wrote this poem The New Colossus and donated it as a fund raiser for the pedestal on which the statue would sit.  (The statue actually sat in storage for a year or so after it was received because the pedestal hadn't been built.  At one point, the builders ran out of money.  This sounds very 21st century!) 

While the statue's opening day was in 1886, a plaque with the poem wasn't placed on it until 1903.  (Several years later, if I understood correctly, the poem was inscribed in the actual pedestal of the statue.)  Lazarus, the daughter of Portuguese Sephardic Jews, died - at age 38 - a year after the statue opened.  She never knew of this honor.
  

After viewing the museum, I climbed a great number of steps (maybe 168?) to go to the viewing platform.  (I was sucking wind by the time I got there.)  I got some interesting views of Lady Liberty this way.  She's amazingly large.  (According to the museum, her shoe size is an 800+.)

There were also great views of the harbor and the New York skyline.

 

From Bledsoe's island, the island on which Lady Liberty stands, I headed on the 5 minute ferry ride to Ellis Island.

Ellis Island

When leaving the ferry and walking into the building on Ellis Island, you walk the same path into the same buidling that all of those immigrants came through.  You feel their presence when doing that. 

I can't fathom what it must be like to leave one's country with little or no possessions and no grasp of the language of the country to which you are going.  I also can't understand the longing for a better life and the pain that must have been faced to make the gut-wrenching decision of leaving a mother, brother, father, sister, or spouse behind.  When staring at the immigrant pictures that are scattered throughout the building, it's tempting to look deep in their soulful eyes and try to figure out their stories.

An excellent audio tour walks you through the path the immigrants took through the building.  It also explains the fear the immigrants faced as they had to do some things that occurred in their own countries that often ended badly - dealing with uniform officers and splitting women/children from men.

After they deposited any bags or luggage they had, the immigrants had to walk up a staircase (which today's tourist does, too) to be processed.  This was done by design.  Unbeknowst to the weary immigrants, doctors were watching them come up the stairs - looking for physical ailments and general well-being.  The picture on the left shows the beautiful tiled-ceiling that greeted them on the second floor.

Immigrants were screened for mental and physical impairments.  Those that were deemed "idiot, imbecile, moron" (there was one more but I can't remember it) were not allowed into the US.  Those with physical ailments that could not be cured were sent home, too.  There was a hospital on the island so immigrants were treated and many restored to health.  (Many Jewish people were often in poor shape when they arrived because they didn't eat the non-Kosher food offered on the boats.  Even otherwise strong people were also weakened because the rations on the ship were meager.)  Over 4,000 people died on Ellis Island.  About 2%, which, at the height of immigration was about 1,000 per month, were sent back to their countries.  How sad.  In either case - death or physical/mental disease - these people made a grueling journey but fell short of their goal.

One particulary interesting test of mental competency can be seen on this sign.  This speaks volumes on cultural differences, and made me wonder how many people were sent back to Europe because of cultural misunderstandings.  I believe those who were sent back because of misunderstandings were balanced by those who stayed because they "beat" the system. 

There were stories of soft-hearted US immigration officials (as well as crooked ones).  There was also a story of a entire family and the daughter who developed warts on her hand during the journey across the Atlantic.  Her lapel was marked in chalk, as was the process, to indicate she needed a further health screening.  The family was panicked.  What would happen if their young daughter was refused after the parents and other children had been cleared?  What anguish they must have experienced.  Then, someone told them to have their daughter turn her coat inside-out to hide the chalk marking.  The lining of the coat was silk so apparently what she had done didn't seem obvious.  It worked because she never had the secondary screening and the whole family was able to stay.

People who travelled first- and second-class were able to leave the ship and go right to their destination.  (Only about 1/3 stayed in NY.)  Steerage class passengers were the ones who came through Ellis Island.  This does not mean the first- and second-class passengers were not screened; they were.  They were screened over in Europe by the shipping company and they were also screened while onboard by doctors.  The shipping companies had a vested interest in vetting the passengers because the company was responsible for taking anyone back who did not meet the US requirements.  This was an expense they did not want to incur so they were diligent in their screenings.

There is a an excellent, 45-minute moving that further describes the history of the island and has poignant black and white pictures and video of the immigrants.  Immigrants, many very elderly now, share their stories of the oppression they faced in their old countries and what this country means to them.  It was lump-in-your-throat listening.  One immigrant shared he was asked what is last name was.  He told the officials, who asked him how to spell it.  He didn't know and he was told, "Sounds like L-i-c-h-t" so that became his last name.  This reminded me of my friend's dear father who came through Ellis Island as a boy.  His name was Sean Gillespie and, through the processing of his paper work, he became John Gillespie.  (Who really knows how his last name was spelled in Ireland?  Ellis Island has about a dozen variations of "Gillespie.")

Ellis Island stopped being used around 1954 and fell into considerable disrepair until the 1980's.  This is when the National Park Service started to restore it.  It's so well worth the visit.  I recommend, however, that you use their online resources to look for relatives who came through the island.  (You can also do an advanced search, which offers different selection criteria.)  They only have a few kiosks at the museum and, as you can imagine, the lines were long to use them.   

Symphony Space

I went to Symphony Space on the Upper West Side to see Apartments and Neighbors, part of their Selected Shorts program.  I've heard this program in Philadelphia on WHYY public radio so it was really neat for me to see the host, whose voice was very familiar to me, and understand how this show is recorded.
There were four stories, 3 of which were read by people who read brilliantly and with animation, and 1 was a told story.  The person I hoped to hear and see read (Sarah Jones) dropped out for unknown reasons but I still really enjoyed it.

I also enjoyed eavesdropping.  It's wonderful to do so many things alone because it provides ample eavesdropping opportunities!  (I should start an "Overheard" blog!)  Some of the things I overheard:

• So-and-So is doing the Iditarod again this year.  (It was obvious both women know the man of whom they spoke.) 
• During my Newbery year.... (I assume she meant the Newbery Award because her companion asked if she ever thought of getting into editing.  I was dying to ask what book she wrote but I refrained!  Or, maybe she worked at Newbury College in Boston, or maybe she lived in a town with that name.  In my mind, however, she's a writer!)
• I just saw Cynthia Nixon out front but I don't think she came in.  (Sex in the City at Symphony Space!)
• I had a great lunch at a restaurant on 55th between 6th and 7th.  (Well!  What was it called?!?  Never got an answer to that one!)

This was obviously an interesting audience.  What I loved - and of course it made sense given this was a literary event - was the number of people reading before the event and during intermission.  I've never seen anything like it - magazines, books, newspapers were everywhere.  This continued on the subway platform after the show.  It looked like a library convention on the 3 train.  Loved it!  (Maybe I should start a blog entitled "What they were Reading."  Ironically, my own reading has decreased considerably since I started blogging!)

Needless to say, I collapsed into bed last night after a very long but very fulfilling and informative day.