Sunday, September 7, 2025
Immigrant's Odyssey
In 1923, Nora's family immigrated from Russia to America. It was no small feat, but rather an odyssey of bewilderment, delays and close calls.
Finding themselves, at last, at Ellis Island, the family still had a few hurdles to overcome. On the passage from Southampton, England, to New York, young Nora had caught a fever. When the ship arrived at Ellis Island, this infection would become the last hurdle that Nora had to overcome before discovering her new home with family in New York.
Going through the stages at Ellis found them separated for a while.
When Nora and her papa were together again, she whispered in his ear,
"Oh Papa, they passed me in; they didn't send me back."
Nora wrote in her book, Weather of the Heart, describing the crisis moment:
"His thoughts raced. What to do? How to avoid the avoid the danger of discovery? He had to collect the luggage at the pier. . . locating them now and transporting would take precious time. . . (but, but, ed)
"I had to be removed from the searching eyes of the immigration people as rapidly as possible."
"Papa knew he had not choice. He scooped me up, wrapped me in a jacket, and carried me, his eyes darting nervously about to see who might be watching, out to the waiting ferry. There he placed himself to hide me as much as possible. Once ashore, he hurriedly commandeered a cab."
Now, long story short: I met Nora years later, when we were both members of High Country Writers in Boone, NC.
Nora has passed now into the wild blue yonder. But for some reason, I found myself recalling this amazing testimony about her father, a man who, in the midst of immigration perils and unexpected decisions, bundled his child and carried her home, to their new home in the new world, our United States of America, the land of the free and the home of the brave. May the United States of America always be the land of the free and the home of brave. We have all of us, except fro those citizens of native american families, descended from immigrants. In my case it was the Scotch/Irish.
Excerpts, quoted above from the book:Weather of the Heart, by Nora Lourie Percival, copyright 2001, published by High Country Publishers, Ltd, Boone NC
King of Soul
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