Chapter 1
At twenty-two years old, Jane McClusky held her three year old son's hand and embarked on a transcontinental journey. With two bags full of clothing, a few coins in her pocket, and the hopes and dreams in her head of a better life in America, she climbed the wooden ramp onto the ship. This was the first time she had ever been away from her little farming community with its one room mud homes, crushed spirits, and familiar faces. Now she was surrounded by various languages she could not understand, was being pounded by passersby, and was engulfed by the stench of body odor, sweat, and fear.
She could no longer see her husband, Thomas, whom she had left on the dock. Liam did not seem to be upset by leaving him, but she doubted that at his age he understood how long they would be separated. She knew her brother, Michael, would look after Thomas as they had grown up together as best friends.
She was terrified knowing that her future lay in the hands of a cousin in Philadelphia whom she had never met while her 30 year old husband was staying behind in Ireland until he could raise appropriate funds for his voyage. She and Thomas had been married for almost five years, and he was a very protective and loving husband. Unlike some of her friends' older husbands, he was never cross or controlling, but she thought that had to do with the closeness of their upbringing. Although they had known each other all their lives, when Thomas finally saw Jane as a woman for the first time, a thunderbolt struck through his heart. He promised her his undying love within a few weeks, within months they were married, and soon their first child, Liam, was born. Since then, Jane had gone through two more pregnancies, but did not carry to term. The heartache of a mother losing a child cannot be measured, but Jane was determined to find a better life for the child she still had.
In their little village, the life expectancy was about forty years; hunger or disease being the main culprits for early death. She had accepted the fact that Thomas may not live long enough to see their children grown, but often, the children themselves were taken by disease before puberty. It was a fact of life in Ireland, due to poor hygiene, bad health care, and lack of food. The summer months were called the "starving months" because the crops from the prior year did not last the whole way through the summer season. When fall came about, tables and bellies were once again filled with food, and of course, potatoes. That is, until the next summer arrived.
That was all behind her now. She and Liam followed the other women and children to the lower deck, trying to find a place to settle in. The men stayed above to limit the potential for abuse, crime, rape, and worse. The deck on which they were staying had nothing but straw on the floor with blankets to lay over it as makeshift mattresses. It was very dark, lit only by a few candles along the walls. As she tried to claim a section for her and her son, she wondered how many people laid on that straw before her, how many bugs had crawled over it, and even how many men may have urinated in it. As she tried to prop Liam comfortably against a wall, using their sack of belongings as a pillow, the inevitable cry came, "Mamai, I need to go!" Just like a child to wait until a mother is busy.
Turning to a non-threatening looking, older woman, Jane asked, "Could you please point me in the direction of the facilities?"
The woman cast a toothless smile, as her long curly graying hair wrapped her face, "Oh, lass, you have never hopped one of these fish before?"
Not entirely sure what the woman meant, Jane responded, "No. I have never left my village. Can you help me, please? My son needs to relieve himself." Hoping that would get a more direct answer, she waited.
"We ain't got no facilities on this fish, the chamber pots are down a bit, follow the stench, and you will find them." Chamber pots. Using them at home was one thing, but doing that sort of business in public, in front of strangers was another. She thought that there would be some sort of seat that would empty to the ocean, but no such luck. Jane considered her options, wondering how long she would have to endure such a deplorable situation. Afraid to leave her belongings, she grabbed her bags and her son again, pushed through the chaos of families trying to get settled, and found the chamber pots at the far end of the ship. A thin sheet hanging from a rafter was the only privacy available to her. When Liam finished, she relieved herself as well, trying to hold his hand so he did not run into the crowd, getting lost in the confusion. There were piles of filthy rags for wiping near the pots, and the thought of using them made her sick. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! I hope America is worth this!" she muttered to herself. She then tore a piece of her dress to use, because there was no way that she or her child were using those rags.
At twenty-two years old, Jane McClusky held her three year old son's hand and embarked on a transcontinental journey. With two bags full of clothing, a few coins in her pocket, and the hopes and dreams in her head of a better life in America, she climbed the wooden ramp onto the ship. This was the first time she had ever been away from her little farming community with its one room mud homes, crushed spirits, and familiar faces. Now she was surrounded by various languages she could not understand, was being pounded by passersby, and was engulfed by the stench of body odor, sweat, and fear.
She could no longer see her husband, Thomas, whom she had left on the dock. Liam did not seem to be upset by leaving him, but she doubted that at his age he understood how long they would be separated. She knew her brother, Michael, would look after Thomas as they had grown up together as best friends.
She was terrified knowing that her future lay in the hands of a cousin in Philadelphia whom she had never met while her 30 year old husband was staying behind in Ireland until he could raise appropriate funds for his voyage. She and Thomas had been married for almost five years, and he was a very protective and loving husband. Unlike some of her friends' older husbands, he was never cross or controlling, but she thought that had to do with the closeness of their upbringing. Although they had known each other all their lives, when Thomas finally saw Jane as a woman for the first time, a thunderbolt struck through his heart. He promised her his undying love within a few weeks, within months they were married, and soon their first child, Liam, was born. Since then, Jane had gone through two more pregnancies, but did not carry to term. The heartache of a mother losing a child cannot be measured, but Jane was determined to find a better life for the child she still had.
In their little village, the life expectancy was about forty years; hunger or disease being the main culprits for early death. She had accepted the fact that Thomas may not live long enough to see their children grown, but often, the children themselves were taken by disease before puberty. It was a fact of life in Ireland, due to poor hygiene, bad health care, and lack of food. The summer months were called the "starving months" because the crops from the prior year did not last the whole way through the summer season. When fall came about, tables and bellies were once again filled with food, and of course, potatoes. That is, until the next summer arrived.
That was all behind her now. She and Liam followed the other women and children to the lower deck, trying to find a place to settle in. The men stayed above to limit the potential for abuse, crime, rape, and worse. The deck on which they were staying had nothing but straw on the floor with blankets to lay over it as makeshift mattresses. It was very dark, lit only by a few candles along the walls. As she tried to claim a section for her and her son, she wondered how many people laid on that straw before her, how many bugs had crawled over it, and even how many men may have urinated in it. As she tried to prop Liam comfortably against a wall, using their sack of belongings as a pillow, the inevitable cry came, "Mamai, I need to go!" Just like a child to wait until a mother is busy.
Turning to a non-threatening looking, older woman, Jane asked, "Could you please point me in the direction of the facilities?"
The woman cast a toothless smile, as her long curly graying hair wrapped her face, "Oh, lass, you have never hopped one of these fish before?"
Not entirely sure what the woman meant, Jane responded, "No. I have never left my village. Can you help me, please? My son needs to relieve himself." Hoping that would get a more direct answer, she waited.
"We ain't got no facilities on this fish, the chamber pots are down a bit, follow the stench, and you will find them." Chamber pots. Using them at home was one thing, but doing that sort of business in public, in front of strangers was another. She thought that there would be some sort of seat that would empty to the ocean, but no such luck. Jane considered her options, wondering how long she would have to endure such a deplorable situation. Afraid to leave her belongings, she grabbed her bags and her son again, pushed through the chaos of families trying to get settled, and found the chamber pots at the far end of the ship. A thin sheet hanging from a rafter was the only privacy available to her. When Liam finished, she relieved herself as well, trying to hold his hand so he did not run into the crowd, getting lost in the confusion. There were piles of filthy rags for wiping near the pots, and the thought of using them made her sick. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! I hope America is worth this!" she muttered to herself. She then tore a piece of her dress to use, because there was no way that she or her child were using those rags.
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