Page 129 - The Legacy of Abraham Rothstein - text
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Immigration and sweatshops
a gain for their group, an increase in the diversion of giving and
receiving news of friends and relatives in the old country. After living
for years in the hustle and bustle of New York, one longs to hear
from the old home and feel himself transported as if on a magic
carpet to that native soil where he knew everybody and everybody
knew him—even if he were just a pawn on the home-town
chessboard. Here, when one passes on to the beyond, even if he is
the president of a synagogue, how many fellows will shed a tear over
his grave—or even hear about it? But at the funeral of his father, a
poor man uneducated even in Torah, almost the whole town came,
and the women shed tears as if it had been their own son.
It really was a marvelous country, to which a man could venture
from ten thousand miles away, without relatives or acquaintances,
with only a few rags on his body, and in a short time be able to make
a living, establish a home and family, even sparing a little money to
help others. Lodging was not as big a problem as it is today in this
country. When it happened—and it did happen many times—that
four ships arrived from Europe the same day in New York harbor
with ten thousand immigrants, all who landed found shelter, more or
less, and the next day it could happen again. Everybody lodged one
or two men in their homes, in an extra room or the front room or the
kitchen, to sleep one or two nights before going out to find work. In
the Laws of Moses, there is a commandment, practiced by our people
throughout their wanderings: “And thou shalt love the stranger,
because you yourselves were strangers in a strange land.”
We arrived in Manhattan, and boarded a horsecar that circled
around half of the island. Our getting on the car was not impeded by
luggage, as I did not have one ounce of baggage with me. I had just
the clothing on my back: an overcoat, an old faded second-hand suit
I bought the day I left Warsaw, and those mismatched shoes—which
my sponsors replaced for a dollar and a half that first day. My feet felt
like they were expanding after those old vise-like shoes. They took
me to Itzshe’s place, where I stayed two days; then I moved over to
the house of another landsman, Yankele Gutterman, where I boarded
and lodged for about two years. The next day they also bought me a
suit, a cheap one but fairly nice-looking; they then concluded,
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