Recently, I picked up a book titled “Island of Hope, Island of Tears,” by Brownstone, Franck, and Brownstone, published in 1979. I look forward to reading these stories of people who arrived at Ellis Island in search of new life in America.
As a family genealogist, I assumed I would find records of my ancestors who came to America through Ellis Island where nearly 15 million people were processed between 1892 and 1954 when it closed.
According to history.com, “It has been estimated that close to 40 percent of all current U.S. citizens can trace at least one of their ancestors to Ellis Island.” I wanted to. Sadly, I cannot. Although I have traced my ancestors back at least eight generations, most came through one of the ports along the east coast much earlier than 1892.
Ellis Island was originally a three-acre island owned by Sam Ellis and bought by the U.S. for $10,000 in 1808 after his death. The island has grown to about 27 acres using landfill. The history of Ellis Island is an interesting read, but this isn’t about that port of entry per se.
Immigration is a hot topic. There is much confusion and chaos associated with it. Everyone, it seems, has an opinion — but who has the answers?
There are enough knowledgeable people in Washington, D.C. that a solution to our immigration problems should be forthcoming. But where are those problem solvers and where are the answers?
I am not going to enumerate the injustices we have witnessed at our border with Mexico. You’d have to live off the grid not to be aware of what is going on.
Immigration is a real problem. The people are real. Their needs are real.
Most of the early emigrants came here from the “Old World” to escape drought, famine, and religious persecution. All had dreams and hopes for a better life. That has been true for hundreds of years and is true today. People seeking asylum today have dreams and hopes of escaping their existing situations.
I can attest to those reasons as found in just one branch of my family tree. On 1 September 1736, the ship Harle docked at the Port of Philadelphia, and four young men and their wives from Solingen, Germany, disembarked. Because they were trained blacksmiths, they did not have to wait aboard ship for someone to buy their indenture.
Peter and Clemens Stutenbecker stepped on American soil along with their cousins Johann Heinrich and Anna Maria Stutenbecker (my 5 times great-grandmother) and her husband Nicholas Long. Those young men and their progeny mastered wagon-making resulting in contributions to the industrialization of America which can be traced for generations, including the making of wagons for the Union during the Civil War. The Studebaker Corporation resulted from the dreams and hopes of this family from Germany.
Where would we be without similar contributions to our country and economy? Who is the waiting entrepreneur in those lines at the border? Only history will tell.
This is what I know: all people deserve humane treatment. Building a wall of disgusting shipping containers between Arizona and Mexico for $80 million of taxpayer money is not the answer. (Could that $80 million have been better used to help resettle those seeking asylum in our country?) Separating children from their parents has the potential to devastate young people for the rest of their lives.
As I said before, I don’t have answers. Those brilliant minds in our nation’s capital do have, and they need to work together to find and implement a solution to our immigration problems.
Here’s the Thing: Gun control. Right to life. Abortion. Adoption. Black lives. Recession. COVID-19. Influenza. Drugs. Suicide. Fentanyl. Sex trafficking. Homelessness. Ukraine. Russia. The list goes on and on. Issues abound. I chose the topic of immigration because I was appalled by the shipping-container-wall in Arizona.
I wrote this column today knowing it would be my last. You might appreciate knowing that writing this column takes a lot of time (at least for me). Writing is a process. I write when I’m not writing because I’m thinking about what I will write. Once I get words on the screen, I read through, hoping I have clearly stated my thoughts. Re-arranging, deleting, or adding follow. Then there is the conferencing when trusted friends help to determine if I said what I had in mind. Editing is the final point before sending this off to the newspaper. It takes time. Sometimes it takes more time than I want to give.
Turning 80 reminds me that I have a lot fewer tomorrows left than all the yesterdays I have lived. How I want to use those tomorrows is important. I have a book I am writing, a quilt is in process and spread out on the dining room table with other quilting projects waiting to be started, I am volunteering at the Cross Border Partners outreach ministry, spending time with my family, searching for more ancestors, catching up with friends, and enjoying the reading of a good book are all things taking up space in my heart, mind, and home determining how I want to spend my tomorrows.
With all of that said, I have enjoyed writing Here’s the Thing once it has been sent off to Dave Schultz at the News Banner.
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Editor’s Note: This is one of a series of articles written by a group of retired and current teachers — Ken Ballinger, Jean Harper, Billy Kreigh, and Anna Spalding. Their intent is to spur discussions at the dinner table and elsewhere. You may also voice your thoughts and reactions via The News-Banner’s letters to editor.
