A slow boat from Europe deposits an uneducated ten-year-old in Brooklyn, where he sells enough produce to put three kids through school.
My great-grandmother carried candlesticks over from Russia on one of those giant boats. I imagine her smiling – dreaming about Shabbat dinners in America.
My grandfather escaped Germany in 1934. When he arrived in the US he did not have a dime to his name nor did he know a word of English.
These stories remind us how much we have in common with today’s immigrants. Join us and take real action to ensure justice, dignity and economic opportunity for everyone.
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