Coming to America

The Dante Aleghrie

My grandfather, John B. Mauro, was born in Susquehanna, PA on October 31, 1904.  He lived there for about seven years and then sailed to Italy with his parents.  On July 2, 1923, at age 19, my grandfather decided to return to his birth country for a better life.  He sailed as a steerage passenger on the Dante Aleghrie from Naples to Ellis Island, NY.

Ellis Island

Listening to him tell the story made you aware of what a huge event it was in his life.  By the time he was 92 years old, you could watch him look off into the distance as he went back in time and re-told his story for the 1,000th time, verbatim.  After hearing the story for the 742nd time, I began to dread the opening words, "You know, when I came to the United States back in '23, I saw the most beautiful sight.  I saw 'The Lady.'  I stood by the railing of the ship and cried."  That is how the story started, even though it was actually the end of his ocean journey.

The "Lady" he lovingly referred to was the Statue of Liberty.  Tears would fill his eyes as he recalled the sight.  Tears fill my eyes as I remember his words.  The story continues with his search for a good boarding home.  A good home, with good people. People from his vicinity in Italy, Naples.  Then, he would find a job.

Since he wanted to save the best part of the story for last, the tale would then return to the ocean journey.   He reminisced how while traveling via steerage, he was the youngest in his quarters.  It seemed like there were many men sharing the same sleeping area and  after each meal, they bullied him into washing the dishes and utensils that had been provided to each for the trip.  Galley-type meals were included with the cost of the ticket, but since he wasn't too thrilled at being the dishwasher, he decided to purchase his meals in the commoner's dining room.  Unfortunately, by the time he arrived at Ellis Island he had spent the little money he had, and was unable to pay his entry fee into the United States.  He was, therefore, treated as an immigrant and had to follow the procedures as if one.  That is how he actually got to see the main building on Ellis Island.  He waited there until his U.S. entry tax could be paid.  His older brother somehow learned about his status and paid his debt, thus, making  my grandfather indebted to his older brother.

One look from older brother to newly arrived younger sibling, prompted an immediate trip to a store where a new suit was purchased.  Apparently, my grandfather's mother had lovingly sewn him a suit.  It must have been so hard of a labor of love to sew a suit for a son who would be leaving you, possibly forever.  Her tears may have caused the suit to end up as badly as it was described.  Story has it that it was an ill-fitting, green, serge material hanging off my very fit grandfather's frame.  Here he stood....19 years old, basically on his own and looking like he "just got off the boat."  Now, to his mission...to find that "good family" and a job.

My grandfather happened upon a boarding house that was run by "paisans."  Paisan's are people who were from the same town as yours in Italy, but now lived in the U.S.  Italians believe that if you are a "paisan," you are family.  When he knocked on the door to inquire about an available room, he was greeted by a 16 year-old girl who was the daughter of the woman who ran the house.  It was located in Mt. Vernon, NY.  She was the youngest of three, with two older brothers. 

This is where his story takes on a different tone.  It becomes softer and gentler.  He reminisces about courting this girl and winning her heart.  I remember there was an incident of a box of chocolate and a slammed door in his face, a story about shoveling coal in the winter, getting ice cream in the summer and what a great boarding house he had found.  Many other details are getting lost in the fabric in my mind. 

To fast-forward to the best part of his story. It concluded with how they became engaged, got married, had three children and lived happily ever after.  My existence in this specific space and time, is due to the fact that a man was born in Susquehanna, PA and went back to Italy, only to return and meet my grandmother.   

On August 5, 2013, 90 years after my grandfather sailed into the Upper Bay of The Hudson River passing Liberty Island and arriving at Ellis Island, I sailed out of Pier 90 in Manhattan, on the Carnival, Glory.  As I passed Ellis Island and "The Lady," I thought back to my wonderful grandfather, his journey, his story, and his life.  I wish I could hear him tell it just one more time.

On board with me were two of his three children, two of his nine grandchildren, one of seven great-grandchildren and three of seven great-great grandchildren.  He would have been so proud.