On Ellis Island for Life!

Star (Christchurch), Issue 17835, 1 May 1926, Page 17 (Supplement)

On Ellis Island for Life!

Child Disowned by the World, must stay a Prisoner.

This remarkable true story of Ellis Island, to which all immigrants and overseas visitors to New York are taken for investigation if there is any doubt about their admission to the United States, was written for “ Tit-Bits ” by an investigator who visited the island following the recent visit there of Vera, Countess Cathcart.

SHE had merry eyes and lips that were always laughing. A black silk scarf wound tightly around her head gave her the appearance of a little old lady. Hut she was only twelve. Twelve years of age and alone on Ellis Island, melting pot of the world’s outcasts. "This is my baby! ” she said, holding up a battered doll for me to see; and she beamed with delight when I stopped to stroke her “child’s” curls. This little girl was one of the many immigrants I met in the course of my recent tour through Ellis Island. To look upon her baby face and to talk with her you would never suspect the tragedy with which her life is bound u-p. For, while her companions are fated to stay in the immigration station for, perhaps, a few days, or weeks, or at most months, she must remain longer. This twelve-year-old infant is on Ellis Island for life. I turned to the official who was conducting me over the station, and, in reply to my mute interrogation, he surprised me by tapping his forehead and remarking: “She is an imbecile!” I was astounded, all the more so •when I learned that, although she si» ke excellent English—so excellent that at first l had thought she was a British subject—she was in reality a Russian.

the helpless waif and we went and stood on a verandah while he told me her story. I had come to Ellis Island at the invitation of Commissioner Curran (who was responsible for the detention of Lary Cathcart), and he had instructed his assistant that T should be told anything I wished to know.

“We hear many stories of misfortune from the people who come to Ellis,” the official began, ‘‘but none can compare with that of this child.

"She came to America from Russia with her mother. Some years before, her father had emigrated to the United States and had built up a career that enabled him to send for his wife and daughter. So they came, third-class, the woman with the eagerness of a wife who has for years been separated from the man she loves.

“As you know, all persons who arrive from abroad are examined at Quarantine. Immigrants have to undergo a strict medical examination by the doctor. The mother went before the doctor and was passed. Then came the daughter’s turn. She was rejected because she was mentally defective.

“Now arose a heart-breaking problem for the mother. If she wished, she herself could land in America, but she would have to go without the child. The alternative was to accompany the infant to Ellis Island and await deportation with her—for deportation was inevitable. What should she do? Which was the stronger tie—husband or child ? The distracted woman decided, for reasons best known to herself, to land in New York and join her husband, probably hoping that he would know some way out of the difficulty. So she went on, leaving her baby to be taken to Ellis Island. That was twelve months ago. The child is here still and may remain for life.” As the official said this I looked around me at the tiny island—it is no larger in extent than Trafalgar Square—with its gloomy barrack-like buildings. Everything was cheerless, except the patch of grass in front of the main wing of the building. The detained immigrants have little freedom; they are allowed to exercise at certain times, but most of the day is

spent in the dormitories, which are not unlike prison ward-rooms. “ Then howy is it,” I asked, “she is still here? Have the parents done nothing?” “All in their power,” came the reply, “but here the child must remain. We cannot even send her back to Russia. When the mother joined her husband and told him what had occurred, he immediately got in touch with a lawyer. This lawyer was a clever man to the extent that he knew the working of international immigrant laws. He gave the distracted parents his best advice. The next move was on the part of the United States immigration authorities. They approached the parents with a request for the child’s passport. They wished to deport her to Russia.

“‘The passport is lost!’” said the father.

“It was true. The loss of the passport was the last link in the chain that was to fetter the little one to Ellis Island. Without a passport she would never be admitted into her native land. The only hope is that one day she may regain her sanity, when she will be at liberty to cross the mile of water that separates her from her parents.” . , Ellis Island is surely the island ot lost souls.