Saturday, October 12, 2013

Welcome to the USA

My parents arrived in New York City in 1949.  My three-year-old sister was with them.  I didn’t exist yet.  They were “DPs” (Displaced Persons), refugees from World War II.  In my parents’ case, their homeland, Latvia, had been invaded by the Germans, then the Russians ‘liberated’ it, but they stayed there.  The same fate befell the other two Baltic States, Lithuania and Estonia.

At war’s end, as an “Iron Curtain” drew down on my parents in Riga, Latvia, they had to make a decision: stay or go?  If they stayed, they would live under Communist rule.  If they went, . . . ? 

They left and ended up in a refugee camp in Berchtesgaden, Germany. Yes, that’s where Hitler’s retreat was, but that was up in the mountains.  My parents lived in plain wood barracks.  My sister was born there while they waited for their opportunity to immigrate to another country.  They almost were accepted by Australia, but were finally offered a sponsorship into the United States of America.

There were so many immigrants then that someone in the US had to guarantee you a job and a place to live for a year in order for you to get in.  My parents were sponsored by a family in Ohio.  They were farmers.  My father was a machinist and hated farm work, but he put in a year.  He had never seen corn until the first time he fed it to the pigs.  Thereafter, he called corn “pig food” and wouldn’t eat it.

Back on the docks of New York City, my parents were amongst hundreds of other DPs.  All of them had meetings, trains, buses, or other schedules to make.  A nice guy expressed interest in my father’s gold wedding ring.  He asked if he could hold it to see it better.  My father gave him the ring.  Somebody bumped into my father and he turned to see who it was.  They were gone.  When he turned back to the nice guy and his wedding ring, they were gone, too.  Welcome to the United States of America.

12 comments:

kkdither said...

Thank you for sharing your very personal, interesting story! My mother's parents came through Ellis Island. They were farmers in Denmark.

My grandfather came over ahead of the family, because he could find a job in Racine. He was a very handy man and quite the woodworker, I'm told.

He worked, and sent what little money he had back to my grandmother. She sold the farm, and found passage she could afford in the hull of a boat. She had 7 children, was expecting the 8th, and spent days in less than favorable conditions to come to the "land of plenty."

I wish I knew more about my father's side. His parents were of German decent. I'm sure there is a story there, too.

The people of Racine are all of some immigrant background. It is such a shame that things have changed so much, and heritage is not celebrated as it should.

Toad said...

Great history Orb's. Go figure, the first thing that happened to them was a crime.

Toad said...

I know very little about my mothers side of the family, but my dad's parents, father (to be), and sister came from Thisted Denmark In about 1889. I'm not certain they headed directly to Racine, but ended up there. Great Grandpa was In the upholstery business Buggy/Auto later on 9th St. somewhere. Great Grandma was a housewife, and had 4 more children. The interesting fact Is, we are all Nelson's, but Great Grandpa, and Grandma are buried as Nielsen's Perhaps not that strange back In the old days? My Grandmother died the day after my dad was born, and his father always blamed him, so their relationship was not all that great early on, and my dad was raised by his aunt. He finished 4th. grade, and became a Tool Maker Apprentice, and went on to be perhaps one of the best Tool Makers around. I will NEVER underestimate the skills you can learn just by doing them. He had a 4 grade education, and could do any task required, all thanks to what they called "Con School" or Vocational School.

Tender Heart Bear said...

I really don't know to much about my grandparents coming over except about my grandmother on my mom's side her parents came her from Poland. I don't know anything about my dad's side except they are German.

Daddy Orbs- I am really sorry to hear how your parents were treated when they first came here. That was really nasty. The main thing is they didn't not get fiscally hurt with what had happened. I am glad that they made it here safe and sound.

kkdither said...

Toad: many names were "Americanized" when immigrants came through Ellis. My grandmother's first name was changed without her consent. (That was the story I heard)

Nielsen could have easily been transformed into Nelson, if not through Ellis, but when already in this country as a way to blend in as American citizens.

OrbsCorbs said...

I think my parents went through Ellis Island, but I'm not sure and there's no one left to ask. I remember them talking about seeing the Statue of Liberty as they arrived in the harbor.

SER said...

My mom was from Racine, dad from Kenosha, Grandpa Salvatore and Great Grandpa Giuseppe (dad's side) were from Italy. Grandma Lottie and Great Grandma Agatha were from Florida. Great Grandma was 100% Seminole Indian

Anonymous said...

My family came from Italy, speaka no english, and the given name was WOP

They came with no diamonds, no rings, no job, they did bring with them one flat tire that went wop- wop- wop hence the family name.

Isn't that a tear-jerker?

drewzepmeister said...

My Jewish sounding last name is actually an "Americanized" German name. My great grandparents immigrated from Germany, I believe before WW II and settled in Grafton, WI. My grandfather and his brother both used to run a steel foundry up there.

legal stranger said...

In Grafton and Germantown as recently as the Eigthies, German was often used by the elder residents as the native language in both towns.

Gute Nacht meine Freunde!

Toad said...

Anon, Thats funny, but the name TONY was very popular for men moving to America. On the ships people were sorted out by the Port they were to end up at. TONY was marked on the forehead of the men going to NY, thus the name TONY became popular. When someone asked your name, you just pointed to your forehead TO NY, became TONY.

legal stranger said...

Many of the immigrants from Italy came through Ellis Island without any documents. hence the term referring Italins as WOPS......

WOP - with out papers

As true as TONY!