“Giovanni, would you allow me to accompany you down there? It is not easy to catch all the words from above and I too want to hear what you have to say.”
He hesitated, then replied, “Maybe seeing you there might encourage the women to come and listen. Their fears are so much worse for they have children to protect. Yes, it is a good idea. You may come.”
The next morning, Giovanna met her husband at the appointed rendezvous, making sure their passage was unobserved, followed him down secluded stairs, along half-hidden walkways, finally ducking under the chained barrier separating classes. The men were waiting, many more than Giovanna had expected.
“Buon giorno. Last night, not so many were seasick—right?” A few wan smiles acknowledged Giovanni’s greeting. “Even in the dead of winter, it is better when they allow you to sleep on deck. Here, this is my wife, Giovanna. Like you, she is crossing the ocean for the first time to accompany me to my home in America.” Slightly uncomfortable, the men acknowledged the female stranger in their midst, as two young women, one obviously pregnant carrying a small boy on her hip, the other holding two little girls by the hand, sidled up to the back of the group. Seeing them, Giovanni raised his voice, hoping to attract the other women who watched, afraid to come nearer in case this being man’s business they were excluded.
“Before I begin, let me make one important observation. Not all the women here are fortunate enough to be accompanied by their men. Some, as many hundreds before them, are traveling alone, some with children, to be reunited with husbands, fathers, or brothers who have saved enough to send them their passage to join them in America. So they must be allowed to listen—make room for them. First, the sum of money that is now required of all immigrants who enter America through the port of New York City. This is not a law—only the man who rules New York demands it—so you must have this ready. You all have this? Safe? At Ellis Island there is a special room where you can change your money into the dollars of the United States. There they will not cheat you …” As though something disturbed him, Giovanni stopped, hesitated, then continued. “Some of you have heard of the examination of the eyes and what they do to you. I cannot make that easier for you. I wish I could but I can’t. You will have to endure it. They will use a buttonhook to fold back your eyelids, while the doctor looks for infection, understand?” The stillness that froze the crowd was answer enough.
“Once you get through, and most of you will, believe me, you will be taken by ferries to American land and left. Those of you who are already contracted, you now will find the agents of those enterprises waiting to make sure that their gangs get to where they are expected to work. But those of you, single or in family groups who must travel on, may be approached, greeted by a very friendly man speaking your language—he may even say he comes from your village—who will offer to help you.
“Do not believe him! Do not go with him! No matter how much you want to. Some of our own countrymen have turned into hungry wolves who pray on the newly arrived—using your fears, your confusion, your innocence to steal the little money you have. Remember that your twenty-five dollars, though it is a large amount of money, is all you have to live on for you and your family until you reach your final destination and there find work.
“If you have far to go, you must remember you will no longer be in a small country but one that is so vast … I can’t even describe it to you. Where else can you travel on a fast train a whole four days and four nights and when you finally arrive, you are only next door to the state you started from? If you must wait between trains, or miss a connection, always stay in a station waiting room and wait there for the next. And practice! Practice saying where you must go, the name of the town and, very important, also the name of the state it is in. America is so large it has many towns with the same name—only if you know what state your destination is in, can you be sure to get to the right one. Most of all, above all else, remember. All of you, even the children, burn this into your heart, into your soul. No matter what awaits you—no matter how hard your new life may be, all of it will, in the end, will have been worth it! If you work hard, never give up, you can make a good life because in America all things are possible. There is no place in all the world with such a generous heart—believe me—I know. Buona fortuna!”
Respectfully, the men removed their caps, crowded around this benefactor, anxious to shake his hand. Their women curtsied to Giovanna, shyly acknowledging their respect for the wife of such a moving orator.
Soon they would arrive and go their separate ways. As the only one of her cabin who had an actual address, Giovanna asked Giovanni to please write it out for her, so she could copy it, then give one to each of her shipboard companions, adding that she planned to keep the original on her person—in case she ever lost him, she would know where to go and to be sure not to omit the correct state his Detroit could be found in.
Passing Coney Island, the ship made its way through the narrows towards the upper reaches of New York Harbor. On every level, passengers crowded the open decks, pushed, shoved, jockeyed for whatever space was available to catch a glimpse of the land that held such promise for so many and there, engulfed in late summer sun, standing tall, as though a Divinity risen from out of the sea, She greeted them. The one they had all heard of, dreamt someday of meeting and a mighty cheer rolled out to greet her, a cry of recognition for all She represented. Babies were held high, children hoisted onto shoulders to see the symbol of their glorious future. Giovanna never forgot that moment. The sound of it, all those jubilant voices hailing a thing of iron and that, for some inexplicable reason, hers was amongst them.
Giovanni and she watched as their ship unloaded its human cargo onto the ferries alongside. Battered baggage, boxes, bundles, sacks, bales, whole lives, whole cultures tied with rope, thong and cloth, being herded aboard with practiced efficiency. Had Giovanna ever seen the Chicago stockyards, she might have used them as reference point; as it was, the scene below her became its own reference. She took out her handkerchief and waved it in farewell.