Document 259

The Immigrant

Author(s): Anna Blair

Copyright holder(s): Anna Blair

There were ghettos and pogroms in East Europe then
And few Jew-folk like us could ignore
The objections rejections and utter despair
And the fear of the Knock on the Door.

But the Jewish are born with the will to survive
And the young turned their hopes on the West
A last look at our 'heyzar' we hoisted our bags
Bowed our heads to the old to be blessed.

Sick and cramped on the boat I still struggled to dream
Of the States, Eldorado-New York
But the place we arrived was a base on the Clyde
And we scrambled ashore on the dock.

I looked at the black maws of alley and close
The warrens of tenements grey,
But I jibbed at the dread of the ocean ahead
And decided forlornly to stay.

I lodged near the quay in this new Promised Land,
Schipka Pass at the edge of the Green
Moved in-there with some Yiddish-spoke immigrant Jews
Wi' Pa's watch and my new gaberdine.

That night I saw fire like a funeral pyre
And I minded some old homeland phrases,
Such like 'burning your boats' 'setting fire to wild oats'.
Lord God's promise that night...Dixons' Blazes.

My strangeness was shed as the weeks turned to months
And my thoughts grew less vivid of Poland
As the Mommas about, gave me wurst and sauerkraut,
And my regular Shabbos-Day cholent.

A tobacco place first, then I set myself up
In a basement in Hospital Street
And I toiled and I moiled all the hours that God sent
Checking invoice and stock and receipt.

My wee soft-goods company prospered and grew
And I wed with the young Rachel Ascheri.
My Rachel had style and a wonderful smile
And a flair for wholesale haberdashery.

From being poor and alone in that Gorbals back-street,
Now I'm fourscore and head of a clan,
For Rachel with flair for more than software
Bore three girls, then Josh, Nathan and Dan.

Information about Document 259

The Immigrant