Ships
by Paul Petersen
They were BIG ships, larger than anything people had seen in their entire lifetime, and they actually moved . . . slow . . . lumbering . . . unstoppable. The dreadnoughts plowed the wild Irish Sea and ordinary men stood at the rail and dreamed about having a farm, their OWN farm. America, in the 1850s was a place of free-land giveaway's, of homesteads and hearths . . . and all you had to do was get there.
And get there they did, in great waves of humanity, millions and millions of them.
And it all started with ships.
There was a bubbling mass of energy and excitement in America in the 1850s, most of it brought on by the invention of technology. Indeed, the Columbia Exposition of 1890 was a showcase of technology for the masses. There was a steam engine on display as big as a 4-story building, and it worked! It dazzled everyone. But just as impressive were the electric light, the telephone, and the telegraph. It was an age of possibilities, of things that could be done, of dreams that seemed reachable, big dreams that matched a big, brave new world, a world where anything and everything was possible, a world where streets were paved with gold. It was a new start, a new beginning, and it started with the words "We're Going To America!"
And it started with ships.
Before Ellis Island there was Castle Garden, a big old barn of a building pictured as being shingled. They got off the boat en masse' and walked (1st class rode in horse carriages) to the processing center under the watchful eye of many guards. Inside the processing center they sat on wooden benches awaiting their name to be called for a physical exam and again for an INS interview. One tried not to cough too much. The central hall was a hodge-podge of noise, kids crying and different languages being spoken. They huddled on the benches saying prayers and hoping against hope they would be acceptable. It was faith and hope that got them this far. They had braved wind-tossed seas on so-called 'cattle-boats' with poor food, drinking water and sanitation.
After the INS interview, several hours later, if they were accepted, they gathered up their meager belongings, the old suitcase and the boxes and went through the 'out' door onto the street . . . where they were pounced on by a multitude of thieves, union army recruiters, salvation army evangelists, ethnic organization representatives, and hawker's of all sorts. If the inside of the building was a mass of confusion, the outside street was pandemonium and a circus all at once.
If it was raining they got wet, and many ships arrived in the dead of winter. The immigrants were on their own to find help or directions. Bewildered, poorly clothed for the miserable New York weather, and often alone in a strange, new world, they somehow made their way to a new life. Though many did not.
There was a public outcry in the 1860s over the "deplorable" conditions on the docks where newly arrived immigrants were often robbed and killed.
Our ancestors did for themselves . . . and their children. They made it through the rain and got a point of view. They gave to us the gift of life in a new world, a new beginning, and a remembrance of times past when life held little or no hope. They did it on faith alone - and the echoes of the shipping line boys who ran through the streets back in the old country extolling the glories of the new world, of America, where men lived free, where land was given to all who wanted it . . . simply for the asking. They did it because they wanted better. And they left to you and me a legacy that yearns to breathe free, a circle of people, events, and promise that somehow strains to be known. It is, to this knowledge, that we all work with diligence and patience in seeking out our family history. And somewhere along the way of our search, we too, have hope . . . hope that they, as yet unnamed and unknown, will know that we remembered that their struggle was not in vain, that we know and appreciate what they did . . . which was, after all, done for us.
Paul was a large contributor to “The Ships List” and extremely
helpful to so many researching ships for their ancestors.
The piece above was written and shared freely with
anyone who wanted it, as was Paul's style.
In June, 1999 Paul took the voyage we will all have to take one day.
He is missed.
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