I didn't mind the cold, damp air too much. The difficult journey was almost over. The old ship would be docking in a short while and I'd be starting my new life. I had agonized over the decision to leave my old home.
Looking out the porthole, I could see an outline of the statue in the harbor. I could just make out the shape through the heavy morning mist. It had stood there for over a hundred years. A symbol of hope and freedom.
I made my way up to the main deck and watched as we passed. It was a beautiful sight. As the old ship moved slowly past the harbor, many immigrants stood on deck in silence. Some waved and cried. Most simply wondered about their futures. We were traveling northward and would dock in a few days. I was fortunate to have family and friends further north.
Breakfast was simple. Some eggs and bacon..lots of coffee.. While eating, I opened a small travel-bible to read to myself. A little girl came over and asked what I was doing. I explained,” just a little reading”. She whispered,” Is it ok for you to have that in public?” She didn't want me to get in trouble. I told her it was ok. We were on a ship at sea. It felt like she was part of a quiet conspiracy..and she liked it.. As she scurried back to her parents, I could see her whisper our 'secret'. I shook my head...the children had been conditioned for years about political and social correctness. Sickening.
The rest of the voyage was uneventful. Some of us spent our time trying to learn the new language. I assured them that everybody spoke English. New friends with a hundred different stories of why they left. It all boiled down to one thing: Freedom.
It was about noon when the boat docked and we prepared to walk on solid ground again. I looked down toward the dock and could see my cousin, Robert and his family. They were waving, jumping up and down...anything to get my attention. As I stood there, waiting in line, a government official was shouting out, ”Please have your papers ready at the gate.” He had a classic old-style clipboard in hand... some things never change.. I held onto my passport and papers, anxious to get off the boat.
At the 'Port Entry' window, a kind-looking woman took my passport and asked the usual,” Anything to declare?..no. Business or pleasure?..Pleasure.
Do you have anybody to vouch for you?..Yes..cousins' at the far gate.”
As far as bureaucrats go..she was fairly decent..
I picked up by bags and walked to the exit area. My nephew grabbed my bags and off we went. Robert didn't ask any questions, knowing how painful everything had been. “Well, you're with family now..and free”.
My smile was genuine..but he knew I felt like a refugee.
There was one thing that made me break out into an ear-to-ear grin.
A small government office near the entrance. They were giving out cups of coffee, local maps, directions and, to my surprise, Bibles..both Protestant and Catholic.. A government office giving directions to local churches? I don't know what I did first..laugh or cry..
We all climbed into the car and got out of the city. Beautiful uncluttered scenery with lots of mom-n-pop stores along the way. Robert had been in touch with family in the 'old country' and said I wasn't the only one planning to leave. They'd been quietly 'wiring' money to his bank for months, preparing for the trip. I shook my head knowingly.
I told him how beautiful the Statue of Libery looked & the New York skyline.
All I could do was whisper,” My God, how did it get to this?”
Well, the rest of the trip took half a day but was quiet and relaxing. I had visited his home many years before. Little had changed. As beautiful and peaceful as ever. He lived right on the coast with rolling hills behind his home. I always loved the hills and the ocean.
In the morning I decided to go for a long walk. I needed the exercise and the time to think. I'd have to register with the authorities soon. I'd apply for 'refugee' status and then begin studying for citizenship.
“My God, how did it come to this?”..A very common question, I think. Anyway, I walked around a bend and saw 'it'. I slowed and took it all in. There it was..on the main road. No fences. No restrictions..No government signs advising or warning about anything. I walked closer and saw a man working around it. He simply looked relaxed and at ease. When I got to 'it', I had to reach out and touch it. It was real, alright.
Without thinking or looking around, I lowered my head and made the sign of the cross. The old man working there understood. He came over and whispered,” You're American, aren't you?” I nodded and he invited me over for some coffee.
As we went around the side of the small chapel, I saw the home made sign that read,”Welcome. American Refugee Help Centre”.
It made me almost stumble.. American refugees..I guess that was what I was..
A few people, Americans I'm sure, were chatting with the townspeople..
I told the old man my story, one of many he'd probably heard. I told him my name was George and that my cousin lived just up the road. He smiled and said he'd known Robert for many years. I felt much better now, more determined after talking with him.. He invited me back to visit anytime. As I was leaving, I saw 'IT' again. I had to walk over and touch it..I felt better each time I did that. 'IT' was a simple Cross. It had been quite awhile since I'd seen a Cross without lunatic protestors marching around it.
Oh yes, I had seen the Statue of Liberty a few days before. I waved at it.
I saw how beautiful it still was. And it symbolized freedom. Maybe one day it would do so again. A few days after we passed the Statue,the boat docked in Halifax. My cousin lives in Cape Breton.
We allowed the corrupt, lying 'power-elites', lobbyists, socialist-economics and unions to ruin our society. We sat back and were 'nice'. We yelled at the TV news. We marched in the streets..and were ignored. Washington became an arrogant dictatorship that would easily nullify the Bill of Rights.
It must have felt this way when the ROMAN Republic became the ROMAN Empire.
Have we failed our legacy? Is this story fiction or prophetic?
I have friends who would say, “Unless we do something...”
Others say, “It'll get better when the Republicans get in the White house.”
I am old enough to remember 'my' America back in 1962.
It was a different culture, society and direction. The church had authority and people listened. We generally respected each other. We could speak to each other because we had a common foundation of understanding. Today? Fragmented, divided, confused. Too many have the cowardly, infantile feelings of entitlement.
I will visit Cape Breton again. My father was raised there. My cousin lives there. My idea of my own heritage belongs there. It is a part of me.
I just don't want the day to come when I wave goodbye to the Statue of Liberty on my last voyage there.
May God bless the USA and God bless Canada.
George Chiasson has 30 years experience as a Biomedical Service Technician throughout the U.S. An amateur writer, he enjoys fiction and studying history & politics. (Also, photography & motorcycles). His Father was born & grew up in Cape Breton, Canada.
