Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:10):
This is our American stories. Throughout our nation's history, millions
of families have stood at the edge of one world
and stepped into another. They left farms and villages, crowded cities,
and familiar shores, carying little more than trunks, bibles, and
a belief that in America their children might build something
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greater than they themselves had known. Today, we bring you
a story from one of our listeners, John L. Jacobson,
whose great grandfather did just that. John wrote this piece
entitled The Lad on the Shore, to commemorate the one
hundred and fortieth anniversary of his great grandfather's immigration to
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the United States. Let's take a listen.
Speaker 2 (00:58):
What was he thinking? The eighteen year old as he
stood on the shoreline, facing an unknown future. He was
not alone on that Monday, September one, eighteen eighty four.
Two older brothers, a sister in law, and two nieces
stood nearby. In fact, hundreds of other passengers crowded the
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beach where he was young and old. They were all
waiting for the word to board ship. But in one sense, Neil,
as Cornelius was called, was alone, as were many others.
He only had one life to live and he had
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made a decision that would radically change it. Within the hour,
he would be on board a steamship, the SS Eider.
It was anchored just in front of him. It was
lined up along the shop or a huge ship over
one hundred and thirty meters long over four hundred feet.
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He had ready brochure about the ship. It was built
less than a year before in Glasgow, Scotland, for the
nord yurchure Lloyd Company. It weighed nearly five thousand tons,
had a beam nearly fifty feet high. It traveled at
the top speed of sixteen knots or eighteen miles an hour.
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There were one hundred and sixty seven crew members and
a capacity of twelve hundred passengers. He was not afraid
of what was ahead, but excited. Yet, like men were taught,
he had held his emotions capting and waited motionlessly on
the sand. He wore the brown woolen trousers his mother
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had sown, with a dark red plaid shirt and jacket.
At his feet were two black canvas bags. One was
crammed with foodstuffs intended to last him two weeks. He
had two dozen potatoes for soup with dried roasted beef
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and salt pork. He had wraps of black rye bread
and cloth bags of rye flour for baking. Mold it'd
have no problem with cooking. This passport showed his occupation
as baker's helper. The second bag contained rolled up clothing,
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a few shirts, a couple pairs of pants, some socks
in our undergarments, a second pair of boots. There was
not enough clothes for the whole journey, but they could
be washed and dried as needed. Part of his excitement
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was in his newfound freedom. He had been under his
father's authority all his life until now. There was always
work to be done on the farm, and Votter gave
the orders. Was always Cornidius, do this and that, and
do it. Now he had very little spare time to
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call his own. But now, of course his two older
brothers were on board. They would both try to control
of him, but Heinrich had his own wife and young
daughter to busy him, and Johan was just four years
older than Nil. You're not my boss was often on
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Neil's lips. Neil had difficulty trying to imagine his future
life in America. Of course, he would miss his mama
and sisters and his papa. They were planning to follow
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as soon as they could sell the house, the livestock
and other possessions like their wagon and team of horses.
Nobody knew for sure how long that might take. There
was uncertainty about trips across the ocean. Shipwrecks were not common,
but did occur. The long voyages also had dangers of
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diseases accidents. There was another worry. Prussia was conscripting young
men for the military. They were required to report for
duty at age twenty. No wars were going on at
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this time, but a relative had been killed in the
Franco Prussian War of eighteen seventy women, leaving a w
two young daughters to be raised by the jacobsons. Neil
and his brothers were converted to Christ and baptized by
the German Free Baptist Church in a small village of Fristonow,
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meaning Prince's Meadow. The family also had ties with the Lutherans.
The Free Baptists were allied with the Mennonite Church, which
strongly opposed war and military service. Mennonite sponsored them on
this immigration, pledging their employment. When they reached Kansas, USA,
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They were advised to list their birthplace as Switzerland. Neil wondered,
isn't that bearing false witness. Their advisor was unsure about that,
but assured them God would forgive since they in tenth
was to save lives. Soon he saw workers carrying crates
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boxes on board took place in storage. One of the
long crates he recognized and knew it contained a large
straw filled cloth bag for each one in his family.
They were rolled up with blankets, waited to be taken
to whatever seven foot by seven foot room had The
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bunks they had been assigned in steerage below sea level
under the ship's deck. These bunk rooms were included on
their tickets, which cost about thirty dollars each. Heinrich planned
to stay with his brothers in a three bunk room.
His wife and daughters would have their own room. Smaller
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wooden boxes also contained their cooking pans, ten plates and utensils,
cups and mugs. Now another box was for chamber pots
are thunder mugs, soap, slop pails, candles, and a lamp
or two, castor, oil and aspirin and other toiletries as
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available for packing. They'd been shown a list of items suggested.
That was written by Pebe Chatfield in eighteen seventy five
in Out to Sea, A trunk or two held any
items they might have wanted to take with them to America.
Speaker 1 (08:43):
And you've been listening to John L. Jacobson share the
story of his great grandfather's journey to the United States.
His grandfather was eighteen years old. It was September one,
eighteen eighty four, to be precise, and he had some
family nearby, no doubt, and hundreds of others alike waiting
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on that shore going from Germany, sailing from Germany to
the Great Unknown to the United States, and he had
only one life to live. John said the trip would
forever alter that life. I know that my grandparents on
both sides took that trip, and I heard about it
a lot, the trip from Lebanon and the trip from Italy,
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and I loved what they both told me in their
own way, that they didn't come here to change America,
that they'd come here to have America change them. And
indeed it did. When we come back. More of John L.
Jacobsen's story of his great grandfather's journey to this great country,
a listener's story and we love them here on our
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American stories, and we continue with our American stories into
(10:12):
John L. Jacobson sharing the story of his great grandfather,
Cornelius's immigration from Germany to America. When we last left off,
young Cornelius and his brothers had boarded the steamship that
would carry them across the Atlantic, their belonging stowed below deck,
their future uncertain. Let's get back to John with the
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rest of his story.
Speaker 2 (10:43):
He was startled by the ship's loud fog horn blast
and the captain shout, I'm steigen bitta the board please.
The passengers hastily began grabbing their bags and creating lines
as they rushed down the beach toward the log planks
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that led to the ship's entrances. As they finally reached
shipside and walked up the gangplank with a nice surprise
to see how fresh and clean the ssiter looked. It
was only ten months old. Once on board, they were
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directed to the stairs down to steerage and begin looking
for the rooms. Johanna said, well, Neil, I guess it's
you and me and Heinrich on three stacked bunks. I
claimed the middle. Heinrich's going to want the lower Guess
where you sleep. Your head may hit the ceiling, but
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one good thing, you'll be closer to the top of
the ship if it sinks. Neil had gone down to
see where Marie Heinrich's wife and her daughter were staying.
Just as he got inside the room, a fellow church
member knocked on the door. Neil, he said, in a
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half whisper, an army officer is on his way down
here to look for men near military age. Hide quick
like where he asked. Get under the bunk on the floor,
and I spread some blankets or close over the bottom bunk. Hurry,
I gotta go. Neil forced his way into the small
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crawl space and lay perfectly still until army men had
come and gone. He had prayed for God's protection over
him and the others. Soon he could scrunch out and
breathe again. He called himself a stowaway. After that, they
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had been informed of the schedule at sea. Arise by
seven am for breakfast, eat lunch at noon. Everyone except
first class must cook their own meals. There was a
tea time at five pm, a time together and visit
with other passengers. Supper was at six pm, and lights
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out at ten PM. A religious service would be planned
for Sunday, and the ship sailed. Neo walked up the
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hall where to steerage. After dropping off his baggage, he
stumbled and fell against one wall, then across to the
other wall. Wow, he thought, I feel like a duck
on rocky ground. Took a couple of days before he
got his sea legs. Go on up on deck, said
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his brother Johannas, let's go exploring. They slowly made their
way past the roaring steam engine room and gingerly climbed
the stairs to the next level. They located the toilets
and the washrooms in the luncheon dining area. There was
also a large gathering room with tables and chairs. Some
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boxes of checkers and some chest sets were seen, but
for now the upper deck was the place to be.
They stood at the rail, swaying back and forth with
the ship, watching the city of Bremen and the coast
of Prussia slowly disappearing. In the distance. Behind them lay
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the land of their childhood. Ahead was nothing but an
expanse of blue ocean and an unseen planned. Often during
the next twelve days they stood at that rail once
they viewed an approaching storm and experienced winds so strong
it through their boxes and trunks, crashing against the walls
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of their rooms. For a few days they had trouble
holding food in their stomachs and often were leaning over
the rails. But most days the waters were quite calm,
only lazily swaying the ship. On days like that, they
enjoyed getting together with friends old and new, learning a
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little English, playing the table games. Meals were much the
same each day. Baker Neil was able to make some
tasty rolls of rye flour to go with that potato
soup and warmed over beef or pork. One thing was
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always the same for the Jacobson family, the prayer of
thanksgiving Danka der libandrbut for Deza dinah gibbon, i'm in,
thank you, Loving God for these thy gifts. I'm in.
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On Sunday, September seventh, eighteen eighty four, they gathered with
hundreds of other passengers for a voluntary worship service in
the community room. They sang German hymns and perhaps some
translated from English, like my faith looks up to THEE
and my hope is built on nothing less passages from
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the German Bible were read, although the Jacobson family Bible
was still at home. The pap up maybe a preacher
was on board to deliver a sermon, or a deacon
gave the word we know it was a moving service.
The sea sometimes surprised them, probably towards the last few
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days before journeys in. They observed sharks accompanying the ship,
probably looking for scraps of food and the smaller fish
that fed there. Once they saw whales that sometimes jumped
straight up out of the water, giants of the ocean.
And finally, on the twelfth day, they saw the land
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the coast of New York City. They walked ashore on
September twelfth, eighteen eighty four, passports in hand. They were
at the forerunner of Ellis Island, a place called Castle Gardens.
Someone met them and got them and their luggage aboard
a train headed for Newton, Kansas, their future home. What
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were their thoughts and that long railroad ride to home?
Speaker 1 (18:13):
And a terrific job by the production, editing and storytelling
by our own Madison Derricot, And a special thanks to
John L. Jacobsen, a listener in Oklahoma. And by the way,
we have listeners all over the country on our nearly
four hundred and ninety signals, and my goodness, this may
have been one of my favorites because it was just
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getting into the mind and the physical nature and the
emotional nature of leaving one country and coming to another
and leaving everything behind, language, culture, everything for a better
shot at life. And there aren't many of us listening
or anywhere else in our studio where we make the
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show that doesn't have a family member who made that journey.
And I urge all of you to try and track
that story down, my goodness, going onto that chip, seeing
your country leave in the rear view, the story of
Cornelius Jacobson, John L. Jacobson's great grandfather. Here on our
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American Stories