The New Colossus

 

On our first full day in New York City, we had a plan to get most of the tourist things out of the way. So we hopped on the subway 33 plus a few more stories down from our room and found ourselves on the south side of Manhattan in the Wall Street area where we tracked down a deli by the name of West Bank Gourmet Deli and secured some food for the day. The pastrami sandwich on rye which I got was so delicious and the owner/manager of this deli was so nice and pleasant to us. He certainly wasn't the stereotypical New York experience that everyone talks about or lampoons. "No soup for you!"

From there, since we were nearby and had some time to kill, we walked up to see the statue of the giant bull in front of the New York Stock Exchange but as you can see above it wasn't there. It had been the last time I had been to New York City so we had to google what had happened to it. Fortunately, we found it had been moved to a park on the way back to our ultimate destination so we walked down to see it. Unfortunately, it was being mobbed by hordes of people at both ends. There was a group lined up to take photos posing by the horns up front and another much larger group of people lined up to have their picture taken fondling or kneeling by the testicles on the other end. I think that says a lot about society. We opted not to join in and continued our walk down to Battery Park along the water where we ate our sandwiches from the deli before knowingly joining the masses for a ferry ride to see the next item on our agenda.

The ferry ride was pretty much standing room only but as luck would half it, we ended up on a stairway to the upper deck before we could progress no further to allow those pushing behind us to go further. Thus we ended up with a pretty envious advantage point as we neared our next destination.

People we jostling behind me on the stairs trying to snap their photo between the ears of my wife and mine but I had an unobstructed view of Lady Liberty herself.

She looked a little different and later at the museum on the island, I discovered why. Her torch that I had seen on my last visit was now in the museum and she had a completely new one. We walked around, or more accurately shuffled around with the other tourists and eventually caught another standing room only ferry to nearby Ellis Island. Although crowded, it wasn't nearly as crowded as Liberty Island.

My wife, a first generation immigrant, was very keen to hear the story of Ellis Island so when her audio tour device wasn't functioning, I gave her mine so she could listen with the kids. I soon discovered that without the audio device, standing and staring at some room while they were intently listening to something wasn't a lot of fun so I excused myself and just walked around. However, I wasn't keenly interested in the story of Ellis Island. I have read about it in history books that went into a lot more detail than modern day museums do which actively dumb down displays to entertain kids. Plus, all my immigrant ancestors were already here before it became a thing with my last arriving ancestor arriving a full 27 years before Ellis Island opened. So I eventually just went outside a found a quite corner of shade to sit in while the rest of my family listened to the story of Ellis Island. 

Eventually we caught another standing room only ferry back to New York City. Tired of fighting the crowd, we found a corner of the ferry to stand in while people pushed and shoved toward the exit ramp. I never understood why people are so anxious to leave a ferry especially since it was later afternoon at this point and it was unlikely they had somewhere pressing to be. We were among the last handful of people to exit the ferry, less than 10 minutes after it docked, and we had plenty of time to reach our next destination but I'll save that story for next week.

P.S. A poem you might recognize dealing with the Status of Liberty.

The New Colossus by Emma Lazarus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"