October 28, 2014
457200-3175My name is Adarlina Woods. I was sixteen when I arrived in America in 1853 at the port of Ellis Island. I remember how the cold salt water created a bitter air around us as well as the brisk winter air. All around me I saw men, women, and children surrounding me, their bony bodies shivering hard, bringing the clothes they barely had one their backs tighter around them. I had a few suitcases and offered a few spare coats I had. I now only had two. Many eyes were vacant and our faces as hollow as our hearts and stomachs, filled with dread and homesickness, the steamboat, Columbia, bringing us closer to bitter sweet unknown promise that was held in America, for a better life. With the help of my cousin I was able to get a prepaid ticket to America. He even set up a job for me to start a week after my arrival to America as a domestic servant. It was lucky I spoke decent English. But only if I make it off this “coffin ship” and survive the gnawing hunger in my stomach. We migrated here because of the historic potato famine that left many Irish farmers dead or impoverished. There were many contributing factors as to how the famine started, but a major one was Phytophthora infesting, an ommisite that wiped out many farmers' crops. I was escaping my homeland away from the oppression of Britain 33337599695000and certain death from starvation. I had no idea how I was to be a domestic servant but my cousin’s wife, Helene, promised to help me understand. It was the best job they could get me. I was to take care of an elderly rich woman that would pay me the usual fare I would get from working in a factory. Very few who arrived in Liverpool could go direct right242887500to a waiting ship. They were usually told to arrive in the city two days before sailing. Typically, they had to find themselves a place to stay, visit the emigration agents or ship brokers agency, and make sure all was in order for their...
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