Denying Liberty

By Ronald Dale

In 1865, ten year old Veronique was allowed to attend a dinner party at her grandfathers home near Versailles, France. At this affair, her grandfather proposed a gift for America that was destined to become the Statue of Liberty. How could Veronique have ever known that, from that moment, her life and that of the statue would become intertwined for over three decades? This is the story of Libertys and Veroniques journeys to America. Libertys arrival will precede that of Veroniques and while Liberty may have been rejected by Americans at first, she would eventually be welcomed by hundreds of thousands of people on the day of her unveiling. Fifteen years later in the year 1901, Veronique certainly is not expecting such a welcoming. No, Veronique, with only her son, intends to enter America very quietly and with very questionable travel documentation. She is hopeful that her admittance into America will be allowed because of her special relationship with Liberty. And she is keenly aware that her entry into America could be blocked by her ancestral heritage a secret which she must be careful not to reveal to the Immigration Inspector. Veronique arrives at Ellis Island intent on securing her passage into America by claiming she is the visage of Liberty that she was, in fact, the model for the statue. Immigration Inspector Patrick Leary is totally enthralled by her story; but ultimately he must decide is it believable? It will be his decision alone that determines whether America will be Denying Liberty.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 9, 2010
• ISBN: 9781456701215

Ronald Dale

Ronald Dale is a retired Civil Engineer/Project Manager. As an American, he has long been intrigued by the history of the Statue of Liberty. His fascination with Liberty can be attributed to much more than just his expertise in engineering. Liberty surely was and remains a tremendous engineering achievement; but she means so much more than this to America. Like most Americans, when he began to write his novel, Ronald Dale knew little about the true origins of Liberty – except that she was a gift from France. Why would one nation seek to gift such a creation to another nation? How did she come to exist? Who were the people that could dream of such a colossus – and then to make the dream a reality? Why would anyone accept such a Herculean - seemingly impossible task to create Liberty? What was the intended symbolism for the statue? Through his novel, the author hopes to share his sense of enlightenment as to why Liberty has become one of America’s most beloved icons........ .....And of course to tell a good story!

Book preview

1

Prologue

Centennial Celebration

Thursday July 3rd 1986, Staten Island

On this July 4th weekend, New York City is frenetic as it anticipates the activities planned for the celebration of the Centennial Anniversary of the Statue of Liberty. New York Harbor overflows with hundreds of ships including the tall masted sailing ships which had arrived to participate in the festivities. Even President Reagan would be attending ceremonies later that day. This might be July 4th weekend; it might be a special July 4th; it might be a July 4th for the ages; but for Cahn Doa, a Vietnamese immigrant, it was just another hot, uncomfortable summers day on Staten Island.

Canh had arrived 11 years earlier as a six-year-old - one of the Vietnamese boat people. Though Vietnamese by birth, his family (parents and two sisters) were of Chinese ancestry. As the government of South Vietnam began to crumble, Cahn’s father led the family on an escape from the country. By fleeing, they likely eluded the prejudices, possibly even death that they would have surely faced had they elected to stay after the country’s fall to the communists. Cahn’s father was not only a minor officer in the army of South Vietnam; but he was also a part-time - but reputable - businessman. More precisely, he helped US serviceman ‘liquidate’ assets they may have purchased on the US military bases. Being Chinese and having been on such good terms with the Americans, his father had no doubt as to what his fate would be under a new regime. Even if he were willing to accept such a fate, he could never have allowed his family to remain to live in shame. There was only one solution; and that was to flee.

As it was for so many other Vietnamese citizens at that time, the escape plans that were made never came to fruition. Prior to the departure of the last diplomats, Cahn’s dad had managed to get something ‘official’ from the US Embassy. Actually, his dad’s friend, who spoke and wrote almost perfect English and who worked at the embassy, wrote the needed diplomatic documents. The friend even forged the name of a US diplomat on the documents. In the confusion that reigned at the embassy during its last days, it proved to be relatively easy to get official seals and signatures on the papers. Thereafter, his dad was always sure to keep them wrapped in plastic and sealed in a waterproof canister. They never left his person.

The family’s plan for escape was not complicated. They were to leave with his father’s friend on what was expected to be one of the last US helicopters evacuating embassy personnel. But they were not destined for such a quick exit by air, this was not to be their journey. Unfortunately, the friend died on the tarmac and then chaos ensued. The family quickly discovered there were many other low ranking Vietnamese with higher priority than the Doa’s.

Instead, the family fled Vietnam on a boat crammed with refugees and with no particular long-term plan – beyond the immediate need to depart Vietnam. Canh barely remembered this time, the 16 months his family were constantly on the move trying to tell their story to any official in any country that would listen. Canh’s father would routinely present his ‘diplomatic papers’ only to be routinely rejected. Then one night after a storm had severely damaged their boat in the Straits of Malacca, a Singaporean Coast Guard vessel picked them up. This provided Canh’s father one more opportunity to present his papers. For some unknown reason, one for which his family would be forever grateful, the captain actually read the papers and arranged to have them (documents and family) turned over to a friend who worked in the US Embassy in Singapore – just as it had been in Vietnam, political ties can expedite affairs.

After that, the ‘wheels turned’. Within six months, they were allowed to emigrate to the USA – New York City to be exact. Not that they were prepared to turn any place down, but the family was expecting to go to California — for isn’t that where all American Orientals live? If California was not possible, then surely the US Gulf Coast would be the next most likely location. Curiously, the US Immigration Service placed them on Staten Island in New York City. Why were they sent to the frigid north? At the time, there was nothing in the way of a Vietnamese community on the island. They were essentially left alone and left little choice but to assimilate – and to do so rapidly.

Canh could definitely affirm that in a strange and foreign country, an island can become a very confining space. But, the family did live quite comfortably thanks to the assistance provided by the US Government for training his dad as a shipyard worker and with rent subsidies, as well as the aid from local charities and the occasional odd job his dad was able to procure. And if Canh were honest with himself, he would even admit that they were actually living much better than they would have been had South Vietnam and the USA won the war. They were certainly much safer. There were no more of the ‘monsters’ of Canh’s early years, exploding and lighting up the night sky. And both his sisters were away at college, just as he would be in another year. But in Canh’s eyes, much of the good was offset by his personal experiences in the schools and shops and on the streets of Staten Island. The ‘melting pot’ was not, he believed, working for the Vietnamese or any Oriental for that matter. But, particularly for him. For years he was at a disadvantage because of his lack of English language skills. If only he spoke Italian – the ‘second language’ of Staten Island. Then there was the backlash from the everyday people he would meet who were obviously upset with the amount of government assistance (or at least perceived assistance) his family was receiving during a period of hard times on the island. Canh did not hate America or regret coming there – but he did not love it either. Yes, it might be July 4th, a time for celebration for everyone else, but for Canh it would simply be the 4th day of July – no different from the 1st day or the 5th day of the month.

But it was not all darkness on the island either. Mr. John Seguin, who lived next door in the other half of the duplex they shared, had been a family friend and a welcoming face from the beginning. He even spoke a few words of Vietnamese and Chinese – never explaining how he came to possess such skills. No matter, in the beginning Mr. Seguin was everything to Canh and his family. He served as a teacher and protector, an ‘eraser’ for their troubles and always a beacon of hope. All the more amazing, when you consider he must have been in his 80’s when they first met him. He lived alone and apparently had no family to call on him.

Canh often thought that Mr. Seguin really had a secret wish/intent to adopt his family – just so that he would have someone with whom to celebrate the American holidays. Over the years they celebrated them all - all the holidays – as if it were part of Mr. Seguin’s Americanization Program for Canh’s family. The best way to understand America he would say is to,

…be an active participant in such celebrations!

Together, they had celebrated every Easter, Christmas, Thanksgiving and always July 4th. Despite the chaos that often arose, Canh had many fond memories of his Buddhist Vietnamese-Chinese family American holiday celebrations with his French immigrant neighbor. Most assuredly, each and every one were now family traditions - to be sure with some slight modifications. Fireworks (due to an initial misunderstanding related to the raising of the dead) at Easter were common; suckling pig instead of turkey at Thanksgiving; rice – never potatoes at each dinner, and a gift giving ceremony at every celebration - to name just a few.

Mr. Seguin also tended to ‘preach’. Especially to Canh and especially about the goodness and greatness of America. Canh, never really understood this part of the old man. Why was there such passion? Though Mr. Seguin seldom talked about his family, Canh knew he had emigrated to America from France at an early age, lost his two sons (Thomas and Andrew) during World War II and that his wife (Catherine) passed away just after the war. Their pictures, forever young, were proudly displayed on his living room wall - next to pictures of himself (in his World War I army uniform) and of his mother – a beautiful portrait taken just prior to her and Mr. Seguin’s immigration to America. He appeared to have lived alone since his wife’s passing. During their numerous conversations this past decade, whenever Canh would appear ready to criticize America, the old man would interrupt him and counsel him to look beyond the flaws. To look at America as if you were in the future looking back in time - comparatively against other nations. Only then could you be able to appreciate the uniqueness and greatness of America.

America,

He would say.

was the most powerful country in history that probably could have, but did not choose a path of world conquest. It’s compassion and generosity among nations is unmatched in history! But it is not perfect. Accept her with her flaws and love her. You can never love her too much. Never.

Canh heard these words so often that sometimes he would finish the sentence for the old man; and then he would chastise the old man, telling him.

You love America too much! You are blind to her faults!

Upon which, Mr. Seguin, not the least bit perturbed, would say,

This is not Possible!

And then he would simply smile as if to say,

…if you say my words enough – you will get there – that happiness place!

Playing to his ethnicity, invariably the old man would often remind him that the Chinese name for America was Mĕiguó (May Gwo) – meaning Beautiful Country. Though he did not always agree with his neighbor and mentor, Cahn truly admired his passion for America. He just wished he had some of it.

As he entered through the front door this day, Canh heard his mother’s call from upstairs

Canh, is that you? Have you seen Mr. Seguin today? He was looking for you earlier this morning. He said it was important

No I haven’t seen him. Did he say what he wanted?

Canh, predisposed himself to think that the old man just wanted to have their annual "4th of July Historical Review". But then his mother answered.

No, just that he wanted to speak with you and that he had something he wanted to give you. He said it was important. Please go see him now. It seemed to be really urgent that you do.

To give him something? That was different. They had exchanged gifts often over the years – but always as part of their joint family celebrations; never just one on one.

Okay, I’ll go over now.

As was typical, the American flag was properly displayed off Mr. Seguin’s front porch column. And as usual, the moment Canh entered the front door, the old man would ask if he would like a Coke and a doughnut - things for which they both shared a fondness – and were often consumed in secret from Cahn’s mother – for she frowned on such utterly delectable sweetness. Her common refrain being.

Eat fruit instead! It’s good for you!

With the doughnuts and Cokes in hand, they sat down. He on the sofa, the old man in his tattered red leather recliner. Immediately, Canh could sense this conversation was going to be different. Mr. Seguin did not have the usual lively ‘old man’ shuffle in his step. Even with the shades drawn down to block the sun, Canh could tell his color was not good. As he began to speak, Canh eased his concern a bit as there was still passion in his voice - but perhaps it was a little weaker than normal.

So, Canh, are you going down to the docks tonight and this weekend to participate in the festivities? It should be a grand affair. President Reagan will be speaking tonight as the Statue is unveiled, the fireworks tomorrow, and all the other exciting activities. And the tall ships! have you seen them? You may never again have such an opportunity to witness such an event! I wish I were a little more mobile, I’ll have to watch on TV. I will miss not feeling the ambience of the event. I expect though that TV will give me a better view.

Mr. Seguin,

Canh responded.

I think you know the answer to that one. This celebration’s not for me or others like me. It’s all about white European immigrants, like yourself, who came to this country at the turn of the century. We have had this discussion before. The Statue was not intended to represent liberty for the Orientals.

Then Cahn jokingly added.

Maybe we should have a second statue on the West Coast – only using an Oriental lady as the model. Then Angel Island, the site of the US Immigration Station in San Francisco Bay, could be renamed Liberty Island West!

Cahn was confident that Mr. Seguin would not be offended by such words as the old man knew Canh was trying to take the lead in the political engagement they were about to have. Canh had come prepared for this year’s discussion. Oh, how he longed for this old man’s passion and love of country!

Canh, that’s a great idea! Why don’t you get started on it? It would be a forward looking activity. And you know how I’m always telling you to stop dwelling on the faults of the past. America is a looking forward country, looking back only to assimilate the lessons learned – not to advance hostility. It’s point forward that matters. Continually, we must ask ourselves if America is headed in the right direction? Your being here is, I think, proof positive that at least on immigration it is. You are going to be a great American citizen – once you start looking forward!

As Cahn began to speak, he was thinking maybe I should start calling him Preacher Man! But he stayed with his more familiar form of address.

"Old man, such words are easy when you are of European heritage. You would dwell more on the past if this country had in place a law for Europeans similar to the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882. Imagine that! While the Statue of Liberty – emblematic of all your ideals - was under construction in France and 4 years before inauguration ceremonies here, this country was passing anti-immigration laws targeting a specific race – the Chinese. That same law was later applied to all Asian races. Yet, immigration of persons of other races was unlimited! This law was not repealed, except only partially, until 1943 – when for the first time an Asian could become a naturalized citizen! Unlike European communities in this country, for almost 60 years Asian communities were essentially restricted from growing and assimilating into society. Those Asians that were here, descendants of the workers of many of America’s great ‘Manifest Destiny’ projects – were forced to live a life apart and build a separate society in which they could survive on their own. Say, did you know that there is still a section in the United States Immigration Code entitled ‘Exclusion of Chinese’? It is the only section which focuses on a specific nationality or ethic group. It was, in effect, the legalization of racial discrimination! It can be argued that this Exclusion Act gave rise to the first great wave of commercial human smuggling. I wonder to how many other national and ethnic groups has this slavery activity since spread?"

When he finished speaking, Cahn immediately worried that perhaps he had taken his opening argument too far; but surprisingly, the old man had understood every word he had spoken – without taking offense in the least.

"Excellent Canh. Appears, you’ve been doing some homework! Now you have some insight as to why things are the way they are or were. But that does not mean they are the future. To be sure, I was aware of the Exclusion Act , but I have only a limited knowledge as to the details. I do know that the Supreme Court has, in the past, ruled that immigration inspectors have final authority on who can be admitted into the US. That is, refusing entry does not require due process. Even if you were a US citizen when you left, you could be denied reentry by the port inspector. Believe me, I have firsthand knowledge of this power – remember I came here in 1901 and this power was a primary concern of my Mama! As to discrimination, Asians are not unique. No plight has been greater than that of the African Americans – they never even wanted to come to America! And the native American Indians, some of whom welcomed the first settlers. Clearly they got the short end of the deal. For the most part, they welcomed the first immigrants only to get lessons on land ownership! During the great Irish migrations, the young men were no more off the boat than they were drafted into the army and sent to the front lines of the Civil War. And not to overstate the point, but isn’t discrimination what drove the first Pilgrims here? Discrimination is quite simply a part of American History; but that does not mean it is the future. Surely, you would not argue that progress has been made and that the country’s direction is right? That is what is important. The Statue of Liberty provides a ‘front door’ for this country – I think there is no question she has welcomed and is continuing to welcome and inspire people. As long as there is an America, an America that I can love, there will be immigration problems. And that is good!"

Cahn did not have to say a word. His confusion at Mr. Seguin’s last words was evident in the contours of his face. So without additional prompting, the old man offered clarification.

Cahn, what I mean by these words is that America has immigration problems primarily because people want to come here – by the millions! And such desire is, I believe, a validation of the goodness of this country. Though you may feel slighted, I truly believe that in every respect, this is a noble nation with the most noblest of goals. I think in time you will learn to accept this "American Exceptionalism". By the way, did you know that expression, American Exceptionalism is 150 years old and was first spoken by a Frenchman? Have I preached enough?"

Cahn was impressed with the response of this nonagenarian.

Old man, you are such the dreamer; I cannot just casually change my feelings on this matter and I do not want to rile you.

Smiling he added.

At least not too much on this centennial anniversary of the Statue. The Statue is simply not important to the Vietnamese.

By such words, Cahn had not intended to ignite the subsequent fiery response which was immediately forthcoming from the old man.

"Not important to the Vietnamese? Let me share some little known facts with you. Ho Chi Minh, when he was only 22 years of age, visited the Statue of Liberty. I believe it was then that he first began to formulate his visions of freeing Vietnamese from its colonial masters, the French. Did you know, following WW I, at the Versailles peace talks, he petitioned the Western powers to recognize the civil rights of the Vietnamese people at the peace talks. He even cited the language and spirit of the Declaration of Independence. Subsequent to his denial by the West, he turned to a rising political option – Communism, eventually becoming a founding member of the French Communist party. How unfortunate it was that the western powers did not live’ to their ideals! If only President Wilson would have recognized his petition as having merit or if he could’ve lived in the US a little longer – think how Vietnamese history might have been different – maybe even World History! Oh, and did you know that a 3 meter replica of the statue was on display in Hanoi from 1887 to around 1945? Even Guangzhou, China has had a replica of the statue on display beginning in 1918. I tell you there are links, more than you know, between your Vietnamese/Chinese heritage and the Statue of Liberty. "

How does he do that? Canh thought. From out of nowhere, he comes up with such facts!

So what is your point old man? Seems to me the Statue of Liberty, or the spirit of it, was denied to the East by the Western democracies, supporting my contention.

"Yes, Cahn, but this mistake as well as many others have been recognized in the decades since - and corrected – maybe not corrected completely – but corrected! There is no denying a recommitment to her ideals has been underway – feel the energy of this city! She – and America - are moving forward – did you hear that – moving forward! I think Communism has proven and will continue to prove to be the fallacy. Dictatorships have fallen and continue to fall. And remember President Reagan’s words when the statue was closed for repairs two years ago? I cited them to you then.

Her heart is full, her door is still golden, her future still bright.

I tell you Cahn, Liberty’s light is shining brighter than ever – for you the next generation! All this aside, Canh, and while I very much appreciate this enlightening discussion, this is not why I wanted to see you.

Canh thought.

Oh, oh, that sparkle in his eyes was starting to diminish. Seems to be getting a bit overly serious – he was being more focused than usual.

Once again Canh began to worry as to his mentor’s health. As the old man continued to speak, he reached around to the side of his recliner and pulled out a tattered brown leather satchel. As he handed the bag to Canh, he began to speak again.

As I know you can appreciate, young man. I am an old man. I believe my American Journey is coming to an end. Don’t worry, I have no death wish; and I certainly don’t intend to expedite this activity. But there comes a time, when one realizes that maybe there are not so many tomorrows yet to come. Admittedly, at 93 years of age, I might have been a little slow in this realization! With the passing of my sons, so long ago, I never expected to be able to do this. For some reason, God has sent you to me and in doing so has provided me an opportunity that I thought would be forever lost. You have been a wonderful friend – giving me great cause to live. I want to give you these coins and sketches. There is no one left in my family and their story cannot, should not pass with me. Please take them – and take care of them for me. Go on, open the bag.

From the satchel, Canh carefully removed three charcoal sketches enclosed in ‘bargain basement’ picture frames. With the sketches in the bag, there were also five American silver dollars – encased in plastic holders. The dollars were newly issued by the US Mint in commemoration of the centennial anniversary of the Statue of Liberty the image of which was prominently featured on the coin. The sketches however were much older and appeared to be early artist renditions of the design for the Statue of Liberty – one each of the statue’s silhouette, head, and feet. On the lower right corner of each there appeared to be the blurred signature of the artist. After allowing Cahn to study the gifts, the old man began to speak again.

Canh, I originally bought these coins to place on the grave sites of my children, wife and mother and the last was to go with me. But on second thought, I wanted the coins to live on - not go to the grave with me. I give them to you, for you and your family to come. These last ten years, I have watched you, studied you. I know you are a kind lad and you are certainly driven to succeed. I like to think that I too once displayed such traits. Besides, the odds for success are in your favor! You are in America! I believe you were meant to have these items. If you have the time, I would like to tell you a story about the sketches, much of which has been in my family for over 100 years. Can you stay a little longer?

Still studying the contents, Canh replied softly in the affirmative and with that, leaned back, totally unprepared for the tale which was to follow.

Cahn, these sketches are part of my family’s story - of my coming to America. Without them, I would not be here. Of this there can be no doubt. And remember, I was only 7 years old at the time of my immigration journey. It is because of my mother’s frequent recollection of this story to me, decades ago, that I am able to relate it to you now. Someday, when you may have children, remember that.

Canh could not help but think.

Now what did he mean by that?

2

Overwhelming Elation

First Sight – June 8, 1901

New York City Harbor and the Narrows

And so with great enthusiasm – yet not without restraint - the old man began his epic tale.

After a 14 day sea journey, on June 8th 1901, we arrived mid morning in lower New York Harbor. We were actually 4 days early, as the ship was able to eliminate one stop in Ireland along the way. For us, this seemed to be a most fortuitous sign.

We had not traveled Steerage Class for Mama knew that all immigrants coming in this class would most certainly be processed on Ellis Island. By spending the extra money for Second Class (money we really could not afford), she had hoped to eliminate the risks inherent with the increased level of review and processing on Ellis Island. You see, we did not have a a passport document or a US visa – both of which would soon become mandatory for US immigration in the not too distant future. Mama believed that a middle age women such as she expecting to immigrate to America with her son - no husband, and no one to meet us or offer us support in America - was certain to arouse attention and consequently likely to prompt additional questions. A closer review of our paperwork would certainly follow such queries, increasing the time for processing and observation. And our ‘paperwork’ would probably raise some unique questions. Mama’s profound concern was that the increased processing time might provide the immigration inspector too much time to study her features and lead to questions about her ethnicity. Mama’s greatest fear was that her skin and facial features might become an issue. This was Mama’s utmost concern; for you see Cahn, if you were unquestionably white you were wanted. The ‘Welcome’ was not so warm for others. Yes, Second Class was a worthy investment – especially if there were potential for questions to be raised about you.

As a seven year old, I did not appreciate Mama’s concerns. I was just happy we were not in Steerage Class. During our voyage, I did sneak down to steerage a few times. Canh, the conditions there were unbelievable – I expect in many ways not unlike your travels as a ‘boat person.’ You were also about 7 then - weren’t you? The smell was awful. I’m not even sure they had bathrooms. The stench of vomit was everywhere and the people were really packed in. Nonetheless, they always seemed so happy and so excited about their journey. It always made me feel good just to visit. The people in steerage never failed to welcome me and would always ask if I could help them with their English. I guess you could say I was a bit precocious. I sensed too that they really envied me. If only they knew, Mama and I were just as worried as they.

At the entrance to the lower bay of New York Harbor, before we even docked, quarantine inspectors came aboard ship. They were to conduct their examinations on the ship– but this convenience was reserved only for First and Second Class cabin passengers. All Steerage Class passengers would have their quarantine inspections on Ellis Island. Mama knew few Cabin Class passengers were ever sent to Ellis Island to undergo more comprehensive examinations. She had hoped that we would be allowed to disembark and enter America following our shipboard inspections. Unfortunately, try as she might, Mama could not disguise the fever which had come upon her a few days earlier. Years later, I would wonder if I brought the fever to her from Steerage Class – as such fevers were common there. The Quarantine Inspector was certainly friendly enough, but he indicated that, to be safe, he was sending us to be processed on Ellis Island and additionally (and much more worrisome), he noticed and noted on the manifest some issues about our travel documents. Subsequently, we were given large name tags with manifest numbers which we were told to wear upon disembarkation in Manhattan. Mama could only sigh, looked at me and asked.

Are you ready for our inquisitors?

That is how she would often refer to the US Immigration Inspectors.

Come. Let’s go to the deck, it’s time to see the Lady!

Once the Quarantine Inspectors disembarked, the ship began moving again, north through the Narrows leading to Upper New York Bay and into the harbor. Slowly the tip of Manhattan started to come into view, whereupon I was pushed away from the handrails. I hadn’t realized till that time that there were so many people on the ship. Everyone was along the handrails on the ships port side. As the onlookers began to point and exclaim, I remember calling out to Mama.

Mama, Mama do you see her yet? I can’t see, the people are in my way.

Some of the people even had tears in their eyes. I didn’t understand why. Seemed silly to me, we were finally at our journey’s end! I even heard the people next to me say.

It must be Christopher Columbus. He must be buried there.

I even heard someone else call her a saint. But I knew who she was. She was Liberty Enlightening the World! And I knew everything about her too and was about to dispense my knowledge – see Canh even at seven years of age I was a ‘preacher’; but then Mama called to me.

Jean, be patient. You must be patient! We have much work to do and you must be patient. Now come forward, I think you can get to the front now.

Slowly the tip of Manhattan was coming into view and the first object to be seen and the focus of every immigrant’s attention was the Statue of Liberty. She was my first clear view of America and she was absolutely beautiful – even from afar; and so much bigger than I had expected! It was as if her torch held up the sky. She seemed taller than anything on the city’s skyline. The green hue made her special too. Not white, not brown not black. If a green lady, I thought, could live here, then anybody can. She was both so overwhelming and so reassuring, as if I was basking in the warmth of a raging fire on a cold winter’s night. I still cannot justly describe the feeling that enveloped me then. But make no mistake about it; I fell in love with this colossus at that very moment.

You should be impressed Canh, it’s not often I am short on words! You know, years later I would learn the word ‘Colossus’. Such a word must be included in any description of Liberty!

Eventually, I gazed up at Mama and noticed that Mama, unlike so many of the others, was not crying, but she was staring – perhaps in awe, or was it surprise? I didn’t understand her reaction and so I asked.

"Mama, what’s wrong? I thought you would be happy to see Lady Liberty after so many years."

I am very happy Jean. It’s just that the statue is green. The last time I saw her she was a golden bronze! The color of a 5 centimes coin – an American penny. Your father and his friends had told me the copper would turn green, but I guess I never gave it much thought. I’m trying to decide if I like green.

That was all she said until we docked in Manhattan. In hindsight, I think she did not want me to get too nervous before we got to the "Inquisitors" – again referring to the immigration inspectors. Previously, throughout our crossing, she was constantly reminding me, that there would be a lot of questions.

Jean.

she would say