Wednesday, November 28, 2007

My reasons for leaving Europe




My name is Sorcha Donnelly,
I live in Dublin, Ireland with my parents on the rocky coast. There is green land everywhere and it is so beautiful to look at. The house i have grown up in is not small but not to big either, it is what you would call...cozy. Only a couple of miles away from friends i would climb the rocks and walk to their homes and we would all go running around to play.

I have lived with my family now for 20 years. I have taught my self how to read and write. My parents are loving people, they take anyone under their wings if they need help or somewhere to live. We grow plants and potatoes for money to live and sell them to our near by neighbors...sometimes we even go to the market which is a 3 hour walk; but it is worth the pain and trouble to make our living and to help others live their lives as well. I sew things, clothes and blankets mainly but it depends on what people want.

I work with an old Friend of mine, his name is Ronan O' Cuinn. a lovely man he is, kind, generous, and fun to work with. He owns a little store called Dolly. It is a sewing shop that caters to everyone. We tend to get rich peoples clothing and drapes. It is a hard job when it come down to the deadline. The uppidy class tends to want things done the next day...that is hardly enough time to do a dress. I think i am ready to get out of here.

Three weeks now gone...

Potatoes are running low. the Famine is here, I thought it would not reach our county. I was wrong. People are dying on the streets, in their homes, everywhere. It is sad, and frightening. my mother has fallen ill, and yet my father the next day. having worked in the Fields so long they have come into contact with the poisoned potatoes. I have kept my self away from the gardens that are home to the deadly things and have stayed to take care of my family.

Two weeks have passed and so has my parents. Ronan had sent me a letter a day ago that says that he is going to America and wants me to come with him. He will be leaving in three days and I will meet him at the boat. A young wealthy woman of thirty five has given him money for himself and a friend.

I have buried my dead, lost weight from my body and feal ill from hunger. I must leave now and say my goodbyes, I will go to Ronan and America to find a better life.

My image of America before leaving Europe

Receiving pictures like these are things that make me happy that i will be going to America. People walking freely amongst the streets. No diseases floating around terrorizing everyone in the country making them leave. It just seems so perfect of a place to live and raise a family.



Trees and bushes this high must be a spectacular thing to look at and walk by. The women on the side look interested and content, except the one in the center seems to be angry and furious. I hope the men in the back are not the ones making her so mad. It is very bad for a women to her self worked up like that, it destroys her kindness and leaves her like an old hag. No one likes them.

Other then that lady, i believe America will be great, people kind as they can be, children happy and playing around the streets. Everyone has a smile on their faces and no one seems upset.
But...there was something in Mary's letter a couple of months back that said that Irish peoples can hardly find a job. I hope she is wrong, but just in case she is right, i will bring all the silver coins i can find and take it with me in a bag. Maybe i can sell them for money, and find some where to live and get a job working as a seamstress again. And Ronan and i can live together...it would be a lot easier to make a living that way.

Oh how America will be so grand. I can not wait till we leave tomorrow. A steam boat will take us. Only a couple of weeks i believe until we get there, at least that is what i have heard from everyone chatting about leaving...i really wish my parents could come with us, yet i will leave my birth place and set out for a new life but will never forget what they have taught me and how much they loved me and i them.

My voyage to America










The steamboat that has arrived is huge. They can hold so many peoples it is amazing. But it is also hard to get on. People shove and push around to get in front, to be the first on the boat. Ronan still hasn't showed up, i have been at the port for two hours now he must hurry or we not be able to get on. Wait! I see him. just over the there next to the building. He is carrying something behind him. How weird of him that is. The boat is getting packed...quickly.


Hm...giving Ronan a good hard look, he seems different. he has cut his hair and is wearing a nice suit. Me, i am only wearing a green dress with a white bow around my waist. Look at him a clean shaven man that i have grown up with all my life and now we are traveling to America together, can anything be better?

Three days have now gone on this pearly blue sea. The clouds seem to be getting gray and winds are picking up. There will be a storm in less then one hour. I have been out to sea before...but only on a dingy, a small little thing it was. Storms will creep up and you will wish that you never went out to sea that day. I must tell Ronan that we need to get below deck before the storm hits...or we may be dead.

The violent winds have made the ship feel like it has rolled over three times, yet it has not. the water...it slowly flows in like the night. The darkness has left and the morning has now shown. We have lost five people in the tempest last night...i will pray for them.

Today is the day that we arrive in America. Ronan has brought out what he had behind him before we left Ireland. I can only dream of what it is. He brings flowers...and a small box covered with silk, in it he says is something for when we reach the streets and find a place to stay.

America here we come...and with delight we want to stay.

My arrival in America

We arrive in America...going past this magnificent statue of a women it is so breathtaking and unimaginable. I have held my breathe for a few moments now that i have not noticed and i feel very light headed. Holding the rail of the ship i bend over, close my eyes and take a few breaths. Slowly i rise and open them...we have reached port; people are getting off. Ronan grabs my arm lightly and we walk down onto the wooden deck.

It is really crowded. Shoulder to shoulder would be an understatement. We make our way through the crowds and into a line to get admitted into the States. Ellis Island 1893, a sign says while we enter into a building. Walls and drapes are surrounding everything. we go in one by one in a process.








We must go through a physical examination in a matter of seconds. If we fail it we get deported, of the time i have been in the line i have only noticed that two people have been sent back. It must be hard and devastating to have to go back. But it must be for the greater good. Me and Ronan have made it through the physical examination...now comes another test. Apparently we must be able to read, write, have proof that we can work, and have at least 25 dollars. It is a good thing Ronan got money from the Rich lady, he gave me 30 and he kept 40. We pass it and now are on our way to the streets.

It is a good thing i have taught Ronan how to read and write...all he knew while we where growing up was to talk. His father was well educated and so was his mother...i do not know why they did not teach him anything though. When he dealt with customers he would have me around to make sure he was not getting gypped out of his money and rights.I was happy that we made it. From what i see it is a lovely place and the people are friendly also.


We walk to the corner of the street and stand there for a moment. Then a young boy of around eleven comes to us and asks us if we are Irish and in need of food and shelter. He tells us to follow him and we do so. His name is Niall. He takes us to his father. They are sweet men.

My neighborhood and home

Meeting Niall and his father Peter was delightful. They took us into a building where a bunch of people were eating, drinking, and laughing. They looked happy and content. we followed them down a hallway into a room that says manager. A man opens the door and greets us. We sit down in chairs next to his desk. Thomas O'Malley his name is. A young man of 32, with black long curly hair and green eyes with a hint of gold or yellow around the iris. You would not think he was Irish first glance, but you would when you take a good look and listen to him.

Papers are given to us, we fill them out and give them back; ten minutes into our meeting with Thomas asks us to follow him. We did and ended up in an apartment place. He introduced us to his friend Mor Gulligan. she gives us a look up and down and tells Thomas that we could pay one dollar a week or three weeks...she is pretty lenient with her customers. Giving us a big smile she shows us our room and gives me the keys.

Apparently we live in an Irish Ghetto in Manhattan. the community was quite big. The streets were crowded, trash on the side of the roads; people on the sidewalk sitting, sleeping, crying, and praying...some times i would see 12 people living in one little room. It makes me want to cry when i see something like this. But we make do with what we have, and try to make it better.

The apartment that we lived in was all wood except for the walls...they were brick and there was only one bed. Three shelves and a mirror. A blanket and three pillows lie on top of the mattress. The room is cold, a window is all that provides light and air. A picture frame lies on the floor...apparently some one left a frame, but with no picture. they must not have wanted it. I guess i can use it for me and Ronan. Make the room seem more lively...just a little.

Ronan and I went out one evening and town and got to see moving pictures. It was so exciting! Ronan then dug into his jacket pocket and brought out a little box covered with silk. He opened it slowly and pulled out a ring. He then asked me to marry him, of course i said yes. Today we got married in town with everyone watching...people cheered and hollered. it was to be the most memorable day of my life...but now i must search for a job. Before Thomas had left me and Ronan he said to come to him if we needed any help. Now it is time to ask him him for it.

My job

Having been in this city for only a couple of days, i have noticed that many people do not like the Irish. the stores have signs that say "No Irish Need Apply". It is hard to find a job, even with Thomas's help. But i must keep looking. Ronan found a job with a some type of factory fixing things a mile away. one of their workers just died and he came at the right time to get a job. He gets paid two dollars a week.



I walk down the street and go into a tailoring shop, i look around and see people staring with anger in their eyes. Apparently they do not like me. I had not noticed the sign above the door that says "No Irish allowed". I walked out and turned around the corner. After walking for an hour i pass by a wall that has a poster of a sewing machine. How i want one for my own!













Finally a place is for hire that allows Irish. It is pretty messy but i think it will work. The manager is Lochlan. A tall man with a long beard. a rough voice but has the American tongue already. He hides his Irish tone while speaking to a customer.

Walking in and seeing people not upset from how i look takes me by surprise. Lochan Puts a smile on his face and gives me a welcoming hug with a deep Irish accent. I ask him if there is an opening for a seamstress. And indeed there was and i could start the next day. Being able to work feals like stones have come off of my shoulders. If i could not find a job in sewing then i do not know what i would have done. I do not want to work in a factory.

The problems and hardships i have faced in America

Having the city overcrowded is what make living so hard. We have to put garbage in the streets or alley ways and the bathroom was the gutters outside. Horses would come by, their manure lying in the streets, people walking in it and children playing...disgusting and unsanitary. Clothes hanging one wires building to building...window to window. Walls starting to corrode. children unhappy of the situation. i miss the smiles on their faces, so sad they look and how painful it is to be in.

There was a dead horse in the street a couple days ago...I think they just got ride of it today. Poor kids, it must be hard on them growing up in these conditions. I believe there are people who get paid five dollars to clean the streets and get rid of the trash; they hardly ever do it...but i know they still get paid for it. I really hate it when people do that; they get money for doing nothing and it makes me sick to my stomach thinking about it.

The other hardest things to deal with was fires. They jump building to building never letting up. Sometimes we would be lucky and rain would come when a fire started spreading. Some fires took days to put out because we did not have enough water. If a place burnt down in one of our Irish ghettos we would all raise money and send it to the people to rebuild and start the business over again. We are one big family that takes cares of one another. Even factories would catch on fire, those would be some of the worst ones...people would get trapped in the buildings and smoke would suffocate them.

The water was even hazardous for us. We had to boil the water for a while or buy some from horse draw carts and try to save as much as we could. Some neighbors of ours once got typhoid fever...it was hard to see them sick. the water was unsafe and they got sick. the one time they did not take any precaution to drinking it they got sick. it took a while for them to get better but they lived and that was the most important part.

Along with these unhealthy conditions being Irish did not help. I wanted to walk around the city and meet new people, not of Irish decent...but that had become impossible. where ever i went people would throw things at me and kick me out of their stores and restaurants. So i stuck with the Irish ghettos, the place i know i am welcome.

How I have been helped in America

People of other races that would help me become more "Americanized" was hard to come around. Sticking to those of my own race was the easiest to find help in. Thanks to Thomas, Mor, and Lochlan. They really helped me and Ronan with surviving this place.

Lochlan helped me with sewing different things and making designs. He also taught me how to hide my Irish tongue and speak the way an American does. He said that no matter the look of me or others you can tell what someone is by their voice and sound. I practiced everyday with Ronan trying to make it better. One time i went to the British shops and spoke in an American accent...they welcomed me. I was stunned by how they just welcomed me as if i had no hint of Irish blood in me.

Thomas...that man was one of the best friends me and Ronan had here. He took good care of us. He gave us water when we did not have enough money for it. Food was sometimes set outside our door in the mornings with a note. He would buy us food as well and asked for nothing in return. A kind and generous man he was.

Mor, she is beautiful and respectful. She welcomes anyone and everyone to her apartments. And Depending on some situations she would let others pay less or some pay more...but that would be pretty rare. Mor in fact was a rare girl herself. She always held herself high, even when she was in the worst of moods. Never got mad, she did not show any violence. Gentle, calm, collective, and sincere...she was a mother, daughter, sister, and friend to everyone.

These people helped me live and find the right path to success and health throughout being here. I admire their smiles of delight when knowing that they have helped someone, it makes me want to be like them. For now, i will keep with thanking them everyday and being positive about things even in the worst of moments.