Comments on: Fr. Johannes L. Jacobse: Liberty

By: Fr. Hans Jacobse

Fr. Hans Jacobse — Tue, 07 Jul 2015 01:14:22 +0000

In reply to Timmy. Thank you very much Tim.

By: Timmy

Timmy — Mon, 06 Jul 2015 00:46:44 +0000

Funny that you reposted this essay just before 9 am yesterday. I woke up early on the 4th, and looked to see if by chance you had reposted it because I’ve enjoyed reading it every Independence Day since you first posted it on the AOI in 2011. It wasn’t there so I spent a few minutes searching the AOI archives and found it around 7 am. It’s a very moving piece, and it alway brings tears to my eyes. Thanks for sharing it again and for all your thoughtful contributions, Fr. Hans.

By: George Michalopulos

George Michalopulos — Tue, 05 Jul 2011 13:19:44 +0000

In reply to Trudy. Fantastic story, Fr.

By: Fr. Johannes Jacobse

Fr. Johannes Jacobse — Mon, 04 Jul 2011 22:53:15 +0000

Thanks Trudy. Ellis Island was closed by the time we immigrated and we were processed in New Jersey. We were confined to a room for almost an entire day -- brutal for a six year old. I remember that a woman who had chocolates wrapped in gold foil would give us one every hour or so, an extraordinary act of kindness at the time.

Then, late at night, we were finally released. Somehow (I don't remember how) we got to Grand Central and boarded a train. Being from Holland I was familiar with trains and we started a long trip to Chicago and then Minneapolis. It took three or four days as I recall in a Vista-Dome, the train with a glass dome. Coolest thing I had ever seen in all of my six years. I still pity my mom though. I could never sleep sitting up (still can't) and she had to move to another seat next to a stranger just so I could lay down to sleep. We finally arrived in Minneapolis where some people met us. (We were sponsored by Hennepin Avenue Methodist Church in Minneapolis.) They all spoke a strange language, my father would translate (he knew English and French) and they took us to our house. I remember crawling into the back seat of an old Buick and being swallowed up inside of it. It was the first time I had ever been in a car. It was quite the adventure. Within a month we had mastered English, and from then on whenever my mom took the bus downtown, I became her translator. I love Ellis Island. I think it is sacred ground (I think Appomattox is too) but we Americans don't really understand that concept. Still, every time I go there I am moved to my soul. My family bought a brick to aid in the restoration and our family name is in the register. I am very proud of that.

By: Trudy

Trudy — Mon, 04 Jul 2011 20:48:33 +0000

Thank you for sharing this story. My grandmother’s sister came through Ellis Island from Italy. I have a print out of the log entry. It was with tears in my eyes that I walked the cold halls and tiled rooms, envisioning what they went through to come to America. I relive it reading this. I am grateful for the reminder on this day of Liberty.

Peace.