We buy tickets for the ferry to Ellis Island and, joining a queue, we are directed into a covered area lined with security screens. The search is rigorous; I have to take my hanky out of my pocket, Homeland Security considers it to be suspicious.
Passing through the security area on the way to the ferry we walk under small banners decorated with quotes. One reads, Freedom means the opportunity to be what you never thought you could be.
On Ellis Island among the thousands of immigrant names inscribed on slabs set in a circle I find the name John Doran; my father’s older brother went by that name.
31st August 2011