A Genealogy Hunt

04 December 2009

Afternoon,

It’s the morning of, or maybe it’s the evening of the 17th of May 1876. The boat, specifically the Amérique has docked at the Port of Philadelphia, and you’re craning your neck to see your father, Papa Jacques. He’s somewhere out there in the crowd on the docks, with all those people. So many people, we’ll never find Papa Jacques. And Maman is tired. She’s tired, and she’s trying to keep all six of us together, together as one family, and keep one of us from wandering off into the crowds on the deck.

We left France, so long ago. And it’s good to see land and buildings once again.

You always guessed that the nuns were wrong at the school when they taught you that some sailor from Portugal, or was it Spain discovered that he didn’t sail right off the planet right into the stars. His name, you recollect may have been Christophe Columbus. And that was many, many years ago; long before I was even born. Sister Marie-Claude said that he bumped into the new world. And here you are.

You got so, so sick when the boat left France… so did all of us. Charles was the greenest, and all the babies ever did, were cry, and throw up, for most the beginning of the voyage. But you had a good time on the ship; Charles and you, (Eugène), Jules, and Jacques. The babies, Marie and Camille were always with Maman. And the Amérique was crowded.

Is that Papa? You think’s it is him. Yes it is.

You left Dornach and Mulhouse… Traveled across the English Channel from Havre to Plymouth, and then to, was it, maybe New York, and now Philadelphia. The Amérique to America.

Papa Jacques… Can you see him? There he is. See there, Charles. See, right there beside those two other men. Papa! Papa! He hasn’t heard you, but he’s looking. He’s waving. Wave back. Papa! Jules, Jacques wave. Can he see us? Papa! Papa! Papa! He sees us. Maman, Papa sees us.