In fleshing out my genealogical research, I’ve been reading about central Europe in the mid 1800s. The transition to the industrial age was difficult for both the ruling classes and for the masses - especially for the masses who bore the brunt of the pains of transition.
It is difficult to imagine what it must have been like to read letters from the brother or cousin who had emigrated to the United States. It must have seemed like paradise. I can understand the myth of “streets paved with gold”
I am profoundly grateful that my greatgrandparents had the courage to set out for a new life in a new world.
I am profoundly grateful to those who participated in the American revolution and made my life here possible.
I wish I’d spent more time talking with my grandparents about this. My great-grandparents came over from Denmark and France in the mid 1800’s. They stayed in Pennsylvania for awhile, and then moved west, to Illinois and Iowa. I’m glad they did. I love what’s left of the prairie.
But I’ve never quite understood why they came to America – Denmark and France aren’t countries associated with repression, religious persecution, famine, war, the things that make people emigrate. (But maybe I just don’t know my history.)
Grandma Jacques grew up in a “soddy” in Illinois. Didn’t know what a soddy was until we went to South Dakota a few years ago, and visited a restored/preserved soddy. It wasn’t much more than a big hole dug out of the ground, but there was a hard dirt floor, and even windows. Talk about making something out of nothing.
Anyone ever read “The Homesman” by Glendon Swarthout? It’s sort of an antidote to “Little House on the Prairie.”
We have so many things to be thankful for. So many things that we take for granted. I’m proud and grateful that I’m an American.
I’ve thought about this very topic many times. My great-grandparents came here from Italy in the 1920’s.
Many of his children and grand-children (my grandfather, father and uncles included) married non-Italian women, and now all that my brother, cousins and I really have of our Italian ancestry is our name. That used to make me sad, until I realized that that was probably exactly what my great-grandfather would have wanted.
He and his wife undertook a very difficult and arduous task, emigrating and starting a life in a new country, so that their children and children’s children could be Americans, and I am and will always remain profoundly grateful that they gave us that most wonderful of gifts.