STATUE OF LIBERTY VISIT
by Helen Gibbs Pohlot
Imagine this! With a heavy heart you wave goodbye to your mother from the ship’s deck, maybe for the last time. You are nineteen years old, alone on a journey to a new world. Your sea voyage is fret with seasickness and over- crowded quarters. You cannot wait to set foot on dry land. The year is 1910.
Word spreads amongst the weary travelers who flock to the deck. “Look up ahead,” they cry with delight. Over the forward bow, rising out of the mist, is a beautiful lady holding a torch that lights the way with worldwide welcome.
For my grandfather in 1910, and most of our ancestors who immigrated to the United States from October 1886 until the 1920s, the Statue of Liberty in New York Harbor was their first sight of America, their new world.
Two weeks ago, inspired by my cousin Ray Gibbs of Calgary, Canada’s recent trip to New York City, where he and his wife Maria visited most of New York City’s historical and well-known attractions, I decided it was time to experience the history that some of us New Yorkers take for granted.
In the early morning, I boarded the Long Island Railroad at Long Beach. I changed trains in Jamaica, Queens, which took me to the subway in Brooklyn. I got off the subway at the South Ferry station in Manhattan and walked over to the boarding location for Statue Cruises.
I purchased my ticket online the day before, which saved waiting in line, although you still wait in line to go through security, which is not bad.
The ferry ride over to the Statue of Liberty is quite impressive as I thought back to the people who came there so many years ago. The colossal statue faces southeast and seems to be looking right at you.
I thought of my husband’s grandmother, Mary Ryznyk, who at fourteen came from Poland and sailed into New York Harbor only to wait three days at Ellis Island for relatives she never met to pick her up.
One can only imagine the excitement she felt seeing the colossal lady, a symbol of liberty for the first time.
When you arrive at Liberty Island, Statue Cruises provide a hand-held audio tour that is informative and thought-provoking.
Prior to entering the lobby for my trip up to the pedestal, I learned a series of facts about the Statue of Liberty that I had never known.
I knew that the statue was a gift from the people of France, but I did not know that Edouard Rene de Laboulaye proposed the idea of a monument to the United States in 1865, after the Civil War and the passage of the 13th Amendment abolishing slavery. De Laboulaye, an abolitionist and prominent French political thinker, believed that by honoring the United States’ ideals of freedom and democracy, it would inspire a return to democracy in France.
In the early 1870s, de Laboulaye’s friend Frederic Auguste Bartholdi, a French sculptor, began the design of the statue named, “Liberty Enlightening the World”.
Bartholdi, on a trip to the United States, instantly found the perfect location for the colossal statue as he entered New York Harbor by ship. For him, New York was the gateway to America. He spotted Bedloe’s Island, and immediately envisioned the statue ascending from Fort Wood, an eleven-point-star-shaped fort constructed in 1807 of massive stone that protected New York from the British during the War of 1812.
With the perfect site, Bartholdi proceeded to gain American support for the statue. This proved helpful to de Laboulaye in creating the Franco-American Union in Paris. They determined that the people of France would pay for the statue while the people of the U.S. would finance the pedestal.
Construction began. After the death of the statue’s initial interior designer, Bartholdi brought in Alexandre Gustave Eiffel (who later designed the Eiffel Tower). A noted French structural engineer and architect, Eiffel designed a flexible, skeletal system consisting of a ninety-eight-foot-tall central pylon. It serves as the primary support structure of the statue’s interior.
Some problems arose, mainly in the area of finances. The colossal copper statue in 350 pieces, packed in over 214 crates, arrived in New York Harbor in June 1885, but there was no pedestal. Fundraising fell short. The statue sat in crates on Bedloe’s Island for over a year.
Joseph Pulitzer, a self-made man, stepped in. He owned “The New York World”, later renamed “The World”, a newspaper he considered the people’s paper. He viewed the Statue of Liberty as a gift not from the elite of France to the elite of America, but a gift from all the people of France to all the people of the U.S.
Pulitzer wrote an article urging people to donate to the pedestal construction. He promised to print the name of every person who made a contribution no matter how small. Within six months, donations topped $100,000. About 125,000 people contributed. As thanks, Pulitzer published every name in the World newspaper.
Thanks to Pulitzer’s effort, work on the fifty-six-million-pound concrete and granite pedestal commenced.
By April 1886, pedestal construction was complete. President Grover Cleveland dedicated the Statue of Liberty on October 28, 1886 before thousands of people.
Despite being unfamiliar with some of the statue’s history, I learned four other important facts. First, at the statue’s feet lie broken shackles of oppression and tyranny. Secondly, in her left arm she holds a tablet inscribed with the date of the Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1776, in Roman numerals. Third, the robed female figure represents Libertas, the Roman goddess of freedom. The fourth fact is that the seven rays in the statue’s crown represent the seven continents and seven seas.
With my audio device guiding the way, I proceeded to the lobby of the Statue of Liberty pedestal. Faced with a decision of taking the elevator or stairs up to the pedestal, I opted for the stairs. Big mistake! Still recovering from a nasty stair fall that resulted in two sprained ankles, I must have been crazy. But then again, I didn’t know the number of steps I would have to climb. I noticed several people much older than me in line for the stairs, while the people waiting for the elevator were either handicapped, noticeably injured or visibly frail.
I can make it, I said to myself. A nice gentleman around 75 was in front of me with about 35 people behind us. We eagerly approached the stairs engaged in pleasant conversation as we took flight after flight. By the third or fourth flight, all talking ceased. It was all a few of us could do to breathe, plus my ankles killed. There was a small landing where I stopped and rested to catch my breath. My new friend followed suit as did several other people all claiming to be out of shape. We resumed out trek upward after a few minutes. I stopped on another landing, but my friend proceeded upward without me. It didn’t matter because I couldn’t talk to him anyway. I was gasping for breath holding onto the side rail with both hands.
Finally, after 215 steps, I reached the top of the pedestal. There were a few benches where a limited number of people could sit. My friend was there. He signaled, “I saved a place for you.” To say I was grateful is an understatement. My legs and ankles felt like rubber, shaky and weak. After about five minutes, I could finally breathe normally but doubted I could continue. Let me just wait here and hope to feel better, I said to myself.
The area was crowded with several onlookers staring at me as if to say, “Get up and let someone else sit down.” I got the hint. I ventured outside to the pedestal lookout which surrounds the statue.
A breathtaking view of New York, New Jersey, and the incredible harbor greeted me. I was awestruck by the beauty. The sheer magnificence of looking straight up at the Statue of Liberty and out over the water induced a euphoric state. All pain and discomfort ended.
Maybe this is how the weary people on the ships felt when they first saw the statue welcoming them to their new land. For them it must have been a bright light offering a glimmer of hope.
Walking around the crowded pedestal, people of all ages and nationalities marveled at the statue and her history. No one could believe that the copper skin of the stature, once reddish brown now green with oxidation, is less than 3/32 inches thick and can move three inches in the wind.
After leaving the pedestal lookout area, I decided to take the elevator down for obvious reasons. However, I glanced upward at the spiral staircase leading to the crown. A visit to the crown requires an advanced reservation. A word to the wise, do plenty of cardio before attempting this feat. There are 154 narrow steps and if you are anyway claustrophobic, think twice.
The ride down from the pedestal lookout was a lot easier than going up. I got off at the Pedestal Museum where the entire history of the statue is on display.
On the lower level, you will find engraved on a bronze plaque the famed poem “The New Colossus” written by Emma Lazarus in 1883. Lazarus wrote the poem for an auction to raise money for the pedestal construction.
I was not the only person reading the poem in tears. The last five lines of Lazarus’s poem, touch the heart. It gives significance and comfort to the millions of immigrants whom the statue welcomed with her silent lips and guided light
“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
Before boarding the ferry back, I sat looking at the grand lady for over an hour. I imagined my great grandfather Patrick Gibbs and his sister Catherine from Tipperary, Ireland aboard the ship City of Chicago entering New York Harbor in February 1889. Many others from the Gibbs’ family followed, all filled with promise and hope.
I also thought of my grandfather, William O’Callaghan who came from County Cork, Ireland to Ellis Island in 1910 on the SS Adriatic. For many like my grandfather, they never went back. Their goodbyes were forever.
The journey across the sea in those days was extremely dangerous. Roughly 10% died on the voyage, which usually lasted between eight and fifteen days. Most passengers were in steerage immersed in deplorable conditions. It is understandable that when the Statue of Liberty came into view, they celebrated, they cried, they rejoiced. No matter the struggle, they made it!
Imagine putting yourself in the positon of these and all the people who came to America seeking a better life. Each possessed a brave spirit of adventure. They took a chance. Sure they were scared. They suffered. Life was hard and riddled with danger. They didn’t know what to expect, but they had the courage to do it anyway. And, at their journeys near end, Lady Liberty waited with a silent but prevailing welcome.
*Special thanks to Annette Gibbs and Ray Gibbs for their genealogy research that contributed to this story!