From the Troubles to Hope: A Journey to America

From the Troubles to Hope: A Journey to America - Giada Verprauskus (The Overlake School, 12th Grade)

May 2, 1935,

Da left last night. He said he was going to America, New York he said, for a new life. Ciara and Niamh are still sick, but Mum says they will get better soon. I hope so. The house feels emptier without him, and the streets have grown louder.

June 11, 1935,

Just got a letter from Da, says he’s in New York, he got work as a railroad worker. I wonder what New York looks like, with its tall buildings and busy streets.  Ciara’s feeling worse, has headaches daily. Niamh’s bedridden not eating much. Mum and I went to the market, got bread then got yelled at for being Catholic, mums thinking of quitting the church. I never thought it would come to that.

June 27, 1935

Ciara's gone, passed last night. Mum said peacefully. Not going to have a barrial, mum says they'll trash the grave. Niamh's not any better, in and out of a coma. Mums friends got us food today, mum to scared to go out of the house. Riots outside the house every night, The Troubles they’re starting to call it. 

July 29, 1935

I hear so much screaming outside, nine people are already dead, I hear. They are starting to burn down our houses. 2,000 or so. Mostly Catholics like us. Mum keeps the door bolted, but I don’t know if that’s enough.

November 24, 1935

Niamh passed the early morning. Mum barely spoke when it happened. We’ve lost too much. It’s hard to believe there’s anything left to lose. Nothing else to say today.

December 12, 1935,

Da sent us a letter, he has a house now, coming back soon, bringing us with him, I don't want to leave, mum says there will be new opportunities in America, education, friends. Mum says the people won't be as mean as they are now, we will be safe. We won't have to be shut away in our house. I just wish we didn’t have to leave everything behind.

January 7, 1936

Tomorrow’s the day, Da’s been home for 3 days, made my favorite lunch. Leaving tomorrow, haven’t said goodbye to my friends, they don’t know I’m leaving. Maybe it’s better that way. Saying goodbye would make it real, and I’m not ready for that.

January 8, 1935,

Got my suitcase packed, leaving in 30 minutes, mum says the boat ride will be long, how long I don’t know. The boat will be crowded she says. I will miss home.

January 9, 1935,

I hate this boat. It’s only the first day, and already people are getting sick. The smell—Mum tries to cover my nose with her handkerchief, but it doesn’t help. It smells like death here.

January 14, 1936, 

They say they can see land. Twelve people died while we were on deck. It’s hard to believe we’ll be in America soon. I miss home. I miss everything familiar.

January 15, 1936,

We are here, at Ellis Island, safely too. New York is where we will be next. 

February 16, 1936,

We’re in New York now. This is home, or at least, it’s supposed to be. Mum says America is home for all of us now, full of opportunity, full of life and happiness. No one will attack us here for being Catholic, she says. Here, all religions are supported. I believe her now. We’ve met kind people, made friends, and I see a future here. We’re building a new life, one with hope and without fear. Maybe America really can be the fresh start Da always talked about. I think it’s starting to feel like home.