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A
close-up shot of the Statue of Liberty, which has
stood on the former Bedloe's Island since 1886.
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NEW YORK — Ominous gray
skies greeted us as we stepped off the ferry at Liberty
Island.
My husband, stepdaughter
and I walked up the dock and got our first up-close
glimpse of the Statue of Liberty. She towered before us,
magnificent in weathered blue-green copper.
I stopped to snap my first
picture.
That's when it happened.
The clouds shifted. A patch of sunlight fought to shine
through the stark grayness. It was as if Lady Liberty had
coaxed open the sky above her.
The sight rendered me
speechless. My chest tightened. I fought to hold the
camera steady. And I wondered if this was how my
great-grandfather felt the first time he saw the Statue of
Liberty.
I never met Peter William
Tatko. He died before my birth. I knew him only as the
tall, balding, bug-eyed man I'd seen in a handful of
pictures and the hard-drinking, boisterous quarry owner
I'd heard about from my grandfather. But he was the reason
I was here.
More than a decade ago, I
began tracing my family roots, a pastime that has grown so
popular in the United States that the country now has more
than a quarter of a million genealogical societies. After
years of pouring over vital records, collecting family
photos and documenting relatives' stories, I knew it
wasn't enough. I still felt disconnected.
That's what makes the
Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island so invaluable as
historical monuments. They stand not only as a testament
to the country's past but also as a piece of family
history for millions of Americans. They offer us a chance
to walk in the footsteps of our ancestors.
Eight years ago, while
tracing the life of my great-grandfather, I hit a wall. I
knew he had left Poland at age 18, arriving at Ellis
Island in April 1901. Tatko wasn't a common name. Yet a
search of passenger records turned up only a Jan Tatko.
Stymied, I went to my
great-aunt Aggie.
"I forgot all about
that," she said with a laugh. "You see, my
father stole a cow ..."
The son of a butcher who
had fallen on hard times, my great-grandfather had stolen
a cow to help feed his 11 siblings. A hanging offense, it
forced him to flee Poland. Because an arrest warrant was
issued, he couldn't leave under his own name. So, he used
his father's travel documents, which is how Peter became
Jan.
Hearing that story
unearthed a hundred questions: Was he scared? How did he
fare on the sea voyage to America? Was he on deck when
they sailed into New York Harbor? Did he worry about being
denied entry at Ellis Island?
Although those questions
will always remain unanswered, the trip to Liberty and
Ellis islands in October at least gave me a chance to
learn about the crucial turning point in his life. And so,
under cloudy skies, my family and I arrived at the Statue
of Liberty.
From pedestal to torch, the
Statue of Liberty stands 305 feet and 1 inch high. That's
serious neck-craning for anyone lingering beneath her
base.
It's striking to realize
that something this colossal could have been designed and
built in the 1880s and remain standing 125 years later.
Lady Liberty is fitting as
a symbol of immigration, considering she herself arrived
from foreign shores. Political repression in France led
Edouard de Laboulaye to commission sculptor Frederic
Auguste Bartholdi to create a gift that would honor the
American ideals of freedom and liberty.
Two decades later,
Bartholdi's statue was assembled on a small island in New
York Harbor and then dedicated Oct. 28, 1886.
That sliver of history
barely grazes the surface of the Statue of Liberty's back
story. A museum inside the pedestal chronicles her rise
and importance with artifacts, drawings and revelations
that make the sometimes 90-minute wait to enter well
worthwhile. (Consider purchasing the audio tour, new this
year; listening to observations from immigrants —
including one who thought the Statue of Liberty was
modeled after Christopher Columbus — is a fascinating
way to pass the time.)
Inside, we first saw the
original torch, sitting upright in the center of a two
story room. A rusted internal structure forced the
replacement of this torch in 1984.
A light shone from beneath
a few dozen panes of glass, designed to look like a
wavering flame. At its base, interwoven corncobs and
tobacco leaves made from copper formed what looked like a
turret.
"Wouldn't it be cool
if you could walk on the torch?" my stepdaughter,
Dana, said. A moment later, we discovered a picture
showing men doing just that. The torch was open to
visitors until a 1916 explosion by a saboteur.
We learned enough
fascinating facts to fill two books as we explored the
museum: how the crown has seven rays to represent each
continent, how the face was modeled after Bartholdi's
mother, and how the statue might have resembled a man
wearing just a fig leaf had one of Bartholdi's early
drawings been accepted.
Most surprising to me, a
small scale model of the statue, sliced open at the back,
revealed what looked like a miniature Eiffel Tower —
with good reason. Turns out Alexandre Gustave Eiffel had
used his famous tower design to provide the internal
support for the statue.
Better still, you can peek
at those internal fixings through a lit window at the top
of the pedestal.
The statue also offers some
breathtaking views of the Manhattan skyline, if you don't
mind climbing. The pedestal's observation deck requires a
hike up 168 steps. (An elevator to this deck was out of
service during our visit.) With no elevator access, the
crown is an even greater haul at 354 steps. Tickets to the
crown are available in limited numbers and sell out months
in advance.
We got our first taste of
immigrant life as we prepared to leave for Ellis Island.
The line for the ferry snaked several hundred people deep.
One ferry came and went before we found room on board.
Yet, our hour-long wait
paled by comparison to the five hours most immigrants
endured while being processed at Ellis Island.
The ferry deposited us at
the same entrance where immigrants arrived via ferries and
barges from 1900 to 1924. Walking through the main doors,
I felt a tremor of awareness that this, too, was the path
my great-grandfather likely took in 1901.
But that in no way prepared
me for the first sight of the Great Hall, once the
Registry Room where more than 22 million people were
inspected. A few benches line the perimeter of a cavernous
room that once held rows and rows of benches and
pedestals. From these pedestals, inspectors would decide
if immigrants were fit to enter the country or required
further review. Two U.S. flags hang from the ceiling. From
the windows, the Statue of Liberty can be seen in the
distance.
A black-and-white photo of
the room in its heyday shows a scene reminiscent of a
human cattle call. Immigrants arriving here were
third-class and steerage passengers. (The more affluent
first- and second-class immigrants were inspected on board
the ships.) Inspectors questioned them about everything
from their occupation and destination to the amount of
money they carried.
During this questioning, my
great-grandfather continued his ruse as Jan but slyly
noted that family members always called him Piotr.
"Here in America," the inspector told him,
"you would be Peter."
And so, he was able to
reclaim an Americanized version of his name.
Ellis Island became known
as either the Isle of Opportunity or Isle of Tears,
depending on decisions made in the Registry Room, but in
reality only 2 percent of immigrants were denied entry.
That didn't necessarily
make it easy for those being processed. An exhibit
focusing on medical inspections contained photographs,
inspection cards and instruments — including a
cringe-worthy button hook used to peel back eyelids and
check for any contagious disease that could deny an
immigrant entry.
Portions of actual
graffiti-laden walls remain. The "Treasures from
Home" display contains more than 2,000 possessions,
ranging from clothes to toys, that immigrants left behind.
The bunk beds I grudgingly shared with my sister while
growing up suddenly looked luxurious as we stepped into a
replica dormitory room, crammed floor to ceiling with
narrow bunks.
A 30-minute film gives a
vivid account about what brought the immigrants to America
and what they experienced at Ellis Island. The American
Family Immigration History Center allows visitors to
search the 22 million-plus passenger records.
One of the most striking
features at Ellis Island lies outside, behind the main
building. A Wall of Honor circles in toward the harbor,
the city skyline beyond it, and contains the names of
about 600,000 immigrants whose descendants contributed
donations to have their names inscribed there.
We walked along the wall:
So many people, so many stories. No doubt they all had a
compelling reason for coming to America.
As the ferry departed Ellis
Island, I stood on the deck and watched as the city came
closer and closer. This, too, was a path my
great-grandfather would have taken, the final path to a
new life in a new country.
And to think he was on it
because of a cow.
———
IF YOU GO:
GETTING THERE: The only way
to access Liberty and Ellis islands is by ferry, departing
daily from Battery Park in New York and Liberty State Park
in New Jersey. Wait times are significantly longer for
ferries to and from Battery Park. You will pass through
airport-like security before boarding the ferry.
STATUE OF LIBERTY: To enter
the statue, you must have a reserve ticket for the
pedestal and museum. Reserve-only and 3-day flex tickets
do not include access. Order tickets at 877-523-9849 or www.statuecruises.com.
You will pass through security when entering the monument;
wait times can be as long as 90 minutes, especially at
midday. You must climb 168 steps or take an elevator to
reach the observation deck at the top of the pedestal. The
elevator is out of service for the foreseeable future.
ELLIS ISLAND: I suggest
visiting the Immigration Museum after the Statue of
Liberty because you won't have to pass through a security
screening there. The museum's three stories are accessible
via stairs and an elevator. In addition to permanent and
changing exhibits, the museum has three theaters. Behind
the main building you can walk around the Wall of Honor,
featuring the names of 600,000 immigrants whose
descendants made contributions to have their names
inscribed on it (www.wallofhonor.org).
COST: Entrance to the
Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island Immigration Museum are
free, but there is a ferry fee that includes
transportation between the islands. Tickets cost $12 for
ages 13 and older, $10 for ages 62 and older and $5 for
children ages 4-12. Crown tickets cost an additional $3.
Tickets that include the audio tour are $20/$17.25/$12.25.
WHEN TO VISIT: June through
September sees the highest number of visitors. Holidays
and weekends also are crowded. We took the first available
ferry at 8 a.m. on a Friday and experienced shorter lines
entering the Statue of Liberty's pedestal and museum.
Lines at midday for both the monument and the ferry to
Ellis Island had wait times of 90 minutes. Those wait
times are in addition to the recommended two hours needed
to explore the Statue of Liberty and three hours to visit
Ellis Island.
WHERE TO EAT: Both museums
have cafeterias. Snacks are sold on board the ferries. You
are permitted to carry food and drink on the ferries.
MORE INFO:
Statue of Liberty: www.nps.gov/STLI
Ellis Island: www.nps.gov/elis
or www.ellisisland.org
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