The Diary of A Russian Immigrant Child: Anastasia Sokolov 1900

The Diary of

A Russian Immigrant Child:

Anastasia Sokolov 1900

by

Astrid (Toby) Fowler

The Diary

of

Anastasia Sokolov

There were many reasons for emigration from most of Europe during the late 1890s early 1900s. At the beginning of the nineteenth century, passengers immigrating to America had become a sideline business for the cargo companies. The passage was cheap but uncomfortable. This diary of Anastasia Sokolov paints a picture for the reader of the experiences many people went through to come to America. Widespread poverty and starvation cast a shadow over Russia during the late 1800s. The living conditions weren't going to get any better and there was always a threat of war or civil unrest.

I wanted to leave behind some proof of my family's passage from Russia to the New World, our new home, America.

June 2, 1900 - Saturday

Entry #1

Dear Diary:

According to Mama, we are going to be making some changes she said. She told us children that we were going to have to leave our home in search of a better life she'd heard about in another country. I overheard Mama and Papa whispering something about tyranny or oppression or everyone running out of food. It didn't make a lot of sense, but Mama and Papa sounded worried. We children will have to go through something or that's what I heard Mama say before she shut her door tonight to go to bed. I can't really understand it, but both of them looked worried. Goodnight.

June 4, 1900- Monday

Entry #2

Dear Diary:

I finally found out why Mama and Papa were so worried. I overheard them say that the places where they worked were shutting down and we needed to make some big decisions. Not sure what that means either, but a couple of nights ago, a neighbor came by to talk to Papa. I listened real hard to what was being said and something called immigrant or moving out was talked about as they sit at the table. I know we got it hard here, but where will we go? We don't have any way to go anywhere. Maybe I'll know more in a few days. Goodnight.

June 6, 1900--Wednesday

Entry #3

Dear Diary:

There was a lot of noise going on in our little house today as Mama and Papa started going through our things. Mama told Papa that she wasn't taking much, only what was necessary. Papa shook his head as he tossed a few things into the corner of the dark kitchen pantry. There wasn't much left that remained on the table in front of them but several bags of clothes and two old trunks that Papa and Mama would have to have help carrying. I still don't know what's going on, but every time I ask any questions, they tell me to mind my business and be quiet. Maybe I'll find out soon so I can tell my little sister. Goodnight.

June 8, 1900 - Friday

Entry #4

Dear Diary:

Today, I found out that we were leaving for a place called New York. I'd never heard of that name before, but every time Mama said it, she said it very quietly so no one else could hear. She also said that the ships in the harbor were taking many people from where we live if they wanted to go. I'm not sure what we're going to do with our things, but every time I spoke up, Mama just looked at me and placed her finger over her lips for me to be still.

Tomorrow we will travel from our hometown to one of my Mama's sister's houses near the shipyards where cargo ships dock and unload. My aunt is going with us to wherever New York is located. My sister questioned me all day about where that place was, but I told her several times I didn't know. After we had a bite to eat this evening, Mama told me that we were going on a big ship early in the morning. I know I'm not going to be able to sleep. I just know it. Goodnight.

June 10, 1900- Sunday

Entry #5

Dear Diary:

The crowds of people pushing through the streets where my aunt lived were so big I almost got lost today. I held onto my sister's hand as tightly as I could so we didn't lose sight of Mama and Papa who was just a few steps ahead of us. Loud, strange noises erupted everywhere around us as we walked the entire dock to arrive at the very last ship. There, we joined another group of people, men, women, boys, and girls all headed for the same location. One girl about my age said her parents told her that they were going to America to a place called Boston or something like that. I don't know what Boston is, but I told her we were going to New York. She didn't say anymore and disappeared into the crowd being hurried along by a man with what looked to be a bat or a baton.

Once we were finally at the gain-way leading onto the ship, I turned to take what might be my last look at my aunt's city, my country. I felt that I wasn't coming back anymore. And, by the way, my Mama and Papa were talking, we were going to have to build a new life. On board the ship, which I could see was a cargo ship, we made our way to the small, damp, stinky, and crowded passageways where bunks were located for those who had a steerage ticket. I didn't know what that was, but it was apparent that it was cheap and didn't cost very much. I remember Mama and Papa talking about putting away some money, at least enough to get on the ships. Now I know what they were talking about. The bunks were smelly and felt damp as I climbed onto one that my Mama told me to lay down. I heard a clamoring overhead and wondered what was going on.

Later, after talking with Mama, she told me that people who had enough money were onboard the upper decks of the ship. But she reassured me that they wouldn't get there any fast than we would, they just had a little more room. It took all day to get all the people on board the ship, but once that was done, I heard a loud growling sound down below us. It must have been the ship's engines. The ship shuttered and bumped, then moved from side to side. Mama kissed my forehead and pulled the thin blanket up to my neck. After she pulled the canvas sheeting across the bunking area to hide the bunk, she and Papa whispered softly as they sit at the common table in the middle of the compartment. Goodnight.

June 12, 1900- Tuesday

Entry #6

Dear Diary:

I was really hungry this morning when the tables that hung above us were lowered down and adjusted to lay flat so that we could join the other passengers near the center of the compartment for breakfast. Since space was in short supply, the table was folded back up when everyone was finished so we had more room. Lights in the sleeping area were dim, but I could see that there were three sections: single men, married couples (families), and single women. I estimated it to be fourteen feet by twelve feet long and eight feet high, or so Mama told me. There was a very narrow alley between the bunks and people had to squeeze to get through if they happened to meet at the same location.

Mama told me later that 24 people were in the same area with us. It was dark and damp, and the air was stale. I almost got sick because I could smell vomit and unemptied chamber pots, plus several others were showing signs of being sick from claustrophobia, whatever that is. I had to ask Mama about that. Before it was all over, I expected to be sick myself, but so far, I've been okay. Goodnight.

June 14, 1900 -Thursday

Entry #7

Dear Diary:

The ocean is so vast. I looked out of one of the port holes and, to my surprise, stretching out before I was nothing but water as far as I could see. At first, I was afraid. I never expected to see so much water. The rolling and pitching of the ship made me a little seasick. I placed the palms of my hands on the bulkhead and closed my eyes for a few minutes. Then, I stepped away from the porthole, steadied myself with the surrounding compartment, and soon I felt some better.

Mama and Papa set with us today and finally talked about where we were going and what we could expect. It was a surprise to me that we were going to a New World, as they stated it. I'm not sure it's a new world, but it will be a different country with new and exciting things to see. Mama and Papa said something about a place called Ellis Island, a place they had been told about where we all must be checked for health problems or something like that. She also mentioned bugs of some type that live on people's heads. That's gross. I don't have any bugs. Goodnight.

June 16, 1900 - Saturday

Entry #8

Dear Diary:

Today our ship was attacked by a fierce storm. The wind blew so hard that it pushed the bow of the ship sideways and caused us to be off course for about an hour, or so someone said. Someone who was traveling with us, a young girl, called it a hurricane or some terrible storm. I didn't know what that meant. Back in our country of Russia, the only bad storms were the winter blast that left tons of snow all over our countryside. But, another girl named Angelina, about my age, said she had heard of these storms from her grand-mama who lived near the oceans off the coast of Spain, wherever that is. I'm not sure I want to know any more about this type of storm. Almost everyone on board became seasick and vomit was everywhere in the aisles.

Later this afternoon, I sit with this girl named Angelina, and she told me stories that her grand-mama had told her about America. Her grand-mama knew people in her family who had gone to America to get away from fighting political tyranny in her own country, but her grand-mama was too old to travel and stayed in her village. Her family wrote her letters about America, where they lived, and how they were doing far away from their home country. Sadly, her grandmama missed her children very much, but her people had to make a change to save their lives from oppression as well. Goodnight.

June 17, 1900 - Sunday

Entry #9

Dear Diary:

After talking with Angelina the other day, I have to agree that perhaps in America we can make a better life. According to Angelina's other family members, her family living in America were working hard in some type of factories where clothing is made. Some of them are working in marketplaces, open-air markets, where food is sold like apples, oranges, corn, and other types of vegetables. I haven't seen those types of markets because my Mama and Papa worked in different types of places. It will be interesting to see those things, visit those places.

Angelina told me many other things about her family members who live in America. Some of them were grand, but mostly she told me that there were jobs for almost everyone to work. That's why her family was going, that and to get away from the rulers of her people. In her home country, she must have had a hard time. Goodnight.

June 19, 1900 - Tuesday

Entry #10

Dear Diary:

A lot of people were vomiting today aboard the ship. Thankfully, it wasn't in our compartment this time. It was routine for all passengers to pass a physical exam upon boarding the ship, but the sickness was inevitable.

Mama told me that there were cases of diarrhea and even scarlet fever among those that sailed with us. Thankfully, there was someone aboard who could help the sick among us. It was rumored that there was also malnutrition due to the constant seasickness, but so far into our journey, my family hadn't suffered from any of these things.

For people in steerage, there wasn't a variety of food. Basic food for basic people. Regardless of what was available to eat, we ate what we were given. We were told by some, that the first-class passengers had their choice of many luxuries, and menus offered them a variety of foods and alcohol. Of course, this is hearsay in the steerage compartments. After our voyage, I'll know more about that. Goodnight.

June 21, 1900- Thursday

Entry #11

Dear Diary:

I visited with Angelina again today. She's a very kind Hispanic girl who knows a lot about the world. I'm not sure where she gets all of her information, but she tells me new things every time I meet with her. I'm guessing that she remembers the stories her grandmama told her before she left her country and moved north. Now, she, like all of us, is on our way to America.

Today was no different than our last visit. She told me about some type of law that requires that the housekeepers aboard the ship keep the compartment swept, that safety lamps must be lit for our safety, and there was some type of regulation about washing and drying clothes. I didn't know anything about all of those things, but once I was made aware of them, I'll pay more attention to what goes on around me from now on.

I'm not so sure all of these regulations apply to cargo vessels that are converted to carry passengers too. I haven't seen anyone doing laundry and the only lights I saw lit were a few in the bunking area. Maybe it was only meant for the larger, newer passenger ships. I don't know. I just want to get this voyage over with and stop my head from spinning. Goodnight.

June 24, 1900 -Sunday

Entry #12

Dear Diary:

Today is Sunday. Unlike yesterday with its overcast sky, today's heat is almost unbearable. It's really not all that sunshiny, but the tight spaces seem to make it feel hotter. Sailing in the open ocean during the summer is an open invitation for hot days and hotter nights. Often, the climate and conditions are unpredictable, therefore; the ship can be a container filled with sweaty people. Mama and Papa warned us that things would be uncomfortable. They told us the food would be less-than tasty. They told us the sleeping quarters would be cramped, stuffy, smelly, and dirty. So, I and my sister were aware that the trip would be less than what some expected. But Mama and Papa also told us that America is waiting for us. It has great opportunities and people can make a good living if they want to. I'm not sure what types of jobs are there, but Papa seems so confident that he will do well no matter what the job might be.

Right now, I can't really think about the jobs or the food or the places to live because I'm sweaty and nasty and need a bath. Water is available but there isn't a lot of it. It's shared by those around me and there isn't anywhere for me to change clothes in private. There's no privacy on the ship for no one, at least not in steerage. I can't wait to see where Papa finds us a place to live. Here in this dismal place, it's hard for me to breathe. Goodnight.

June 26, 1900 - Tuesday

Entry #13

Dear Diary:

There's a rumor going around in steerage that caught my interest. It's rumored that there's a giant in the harbor of New York City. I'm not sure if this is just a result of someone's imagination or if there really is a giant. Regardless, whether it's real or imagined, in a week or so, we will all find out. My Mama told us, during our last time together, that there was a statue in the harbor. I'm still not convinced what this statue is, but Angelina told me the same thing. She said that it was called the Statue of Liberty. She must have got that information from her grandmama. She said it's a man-made giant that has a torch or something in her right hand and she's holding a book, or so she told me. Must be an awfully big book. Don't know so much about that, but in a week, just over a week, I'll be able to see for myself. And, with that on my mind, I'm going to try to get some sleep. Goodnight.

June 27, 1900 - Wednesday

Entry #14

Dear Diary:

After a day like yesterday, I'm glad I lived to see another day. It wasn't expected to happen, but several of the people in steerage that had a difference of opinion broke out into a fight, not 30 feet from where my Papa was standing. He wasn't involved in the turmoil, but at the last minute, he pulled several of the men apart. My Papa is a big man with big muscles and if he wanted to he could probably lift a cow. He heard the fight started over some questions regarding who would make the most money when they got to New York. It wasn't something that should've happened. No one even knows what job they will get or what they will be paid or where they will live, but that didn't stop the fight. Blood was everywhere. It was in my Papa's arms because he picked one of the younger men up and tossed him across the room to stop the fists from flying. There's nothing that ever comes of people fighting. That's what my Mama always told us. Nothing ever good comes from fighting. Goodnight.

June 28, 1900 -Thursday

Entry #15

Dear Diary:

It must've been a virus or something, but there was another uproar on our deck today. The voyage has taken its toll on all of us, I included. I'm tired of the smell of feces, vomit, and the sweaty bunk where I have to sleep. Mama does her best, but there's little we can do because there's nowhere to wash the bedclothes. The ship we're on is not a luxury liner. My Papa was unable to buy that type of ticket for us all. And even if he could afford it, he wouldn't have used all of that money to get to our new home and wind up broke. That wouldn't be wise. No, Mama and Papa saved everything they could to get us as far as we are now. Like it or not, I have got to help them when we get to our new country. I'm told children my age can work. If I can, I'm going to help all I can.

I saw Angelina today around noon. She was so excited to see me and immediately began her tale of the new world and the giant woman in the harbor. According to her, she has some special secret she wants to share with me the next time we meet. I don't know what it could be, but according to her, it was even better than the story of the giant in New York Harbor. Angelina is smart and can speak Russian pretty well. Her family moved north to Russia some time ago, so she learned the language. I told her I'd meet her tomorrow at our usual place. Goodnight.

June 29, 1900 - Friday

Entry #16

Dear Diary:

Even in steerage, there are places that children can find to look into the other parts of the ship. I know I wasn't supposed to go snooping, but I wanted to see it for myself. I wanted to see what Angelina told me that she saw in the other sections of the ship. I'm not saying I was right for doing it, but what would they do if they knew? I know what my parents would do. They'd tan my behind for going into places I'm not supposed to go. But Angelina told me it would be safe. She told me she'd seen it a hundred times. I didn't believe that, but I wanted to see if what she was telling me was true. She said she saw a table full of fruit.

I met her in our favorite place near the porthole near the end of the walkway down from where we all stayed. We often looked out the porthole, but we had other plans today. We were going to make our way up the steps, three levels, to a small, less-visited platform. From that place, looking through a crack in the steel frame, I'd be able to see her secret. We spent some time getting to the platform, but it was worth it. What she'd told me was true. Looking through the crack in the steel framing, I could see all manner of fruit and other food stuff. But as quickly as I'd spotted it, the kitchen help pushed the table out of view. It was part of that level of the ship I'd never see again. Goodnight.

July 3, 1900 - Tuesday

Entry #17

Dear Diary:

The last week hasn't had any exciting things to report other than my meetings with Angelina. For me, she has become a trusted friend in whom I share many secrets. It's unusual, but I seem not to know much about the new world, the new country, my new home. But, listening to Angelina and her stories being told from her grand-mama, I've learned a great deal. I don't think my life would've been as bearable as it has been if I hadn't befriended Angelina. She and I made a pact that we will keep in touch, if we can. We made many promises that we both want to keep. She also told me that she had an address of her family in Boston where she was to go to live and I could write when I have an opportunity.

Every person in steerage was informed that we will be arriving in New York Harbor tomorrow afternoon around 2. The advanced warning was an alert for all of us to prepare to gather our things together and be ready to disembark as soon as we are docked at the predesignated location near Ellis Island. Every ship must dock near Ellis Island. It's a requirement because every person emigrating to America must pass through the inspection station. If the person isn't approved or cleared to enter the country, they were returned to their own country of origin.

I said my goodbyes to Angelina, exchanged information, and agreed to keep our promises as best we could. Then, as required of me, I joined my own family, and secured our personal belongings to be sure everything was accounted for. It would be a long and tiring day once the ship docked. I need to get some sleep so I can help my Mama and Papa tomorrow.

July 4, 1900 - Wednesday

Entry #18

Dear Diary:

After the morning chores were done, things gathered, bags secured, I made my way to the porthole I usually looked out of to see if I could see the Giant woman I was told so much about. I didn't expect to see her since it was only 11:00 in the morning. But, I certainly could hope. We were to dock at the Port Of New York at 2 in the afternoon. Yet, after all the excitement, after all the stories Angelina told me, and after my imagination took over, I expected to be able to see her from miles out to sea.

According to Papa, fueling the ship required a boiler room crew of more than 300 men, working in shifts to feed more than 1,000 tons of coal per day into the fires that heated the boilers. With this support in the boiler rooms, the ships could travel more than 30 miles in an hour. That was a lot of men and a lot of work. For me, all I knew was that we were to finish the trip sometime this afternoon. I never saw all these men that my Papa told me about, but they seemed to be doing their jobs.

An hour from dock, an announcement came down to all of us aboard that last minute preparations should be made and everyone would disembark as soon as told to do so. By the time I heard this from my parents, we were less than a mile from New York Harbor. I ran to the porthole, flipped open the small window cover, and gazed out to see if I could see her, the giant woman in the harbor.

To my surprise, the giant woman was visible from my vantage point. It took my breath away as I craned by neck and moved my head to see the whole statue. Completed in 1884, the statue looked as new as it must have looked 16 years earlier. Angelina told me that the giant woman was a gift from France to the United States. And, to me, this was a great gift. From the porthole, I stood in awe as I eyed her lines, gazed upon her clothing that she was dressed in. For me, I didn't know all there was to know about the Statue of Liberty, but it was as if she was opening her arms to me, to my family, to all of us on this ship who'd made the voyage to freedom.

July 4, 1900 - Wednesday

Entry #19

Dear Diary:

The ship docked about an hour ago, we made our way out of steerage with the rest of the travelers. The compartment I left behind is now only a part of my memory of the passage from one world to another. Papa would say it is a passage from death in an old world unto life in a new world. I'd agree if asked, but we weren't at a point that I could say or do anything. Having walked from the docked ship to the huge building here on Ellis Island, I couldn't help but read the information posted throughout the building.

"After scraping together whatever money they could, packing their entire lives into bags and trunks, and spending as much as two weeks in the third-class accommodations of massive transatlantic steamships, poor immigrants largely from southern and eastern Europe but ultimately from all over the world would converge en masse at the inspection station on New York's Ellis Island." one inscription read.

I was excited in a very special way because I was one of those people who risked it all, me and my family, to come to a new world, a new country, a new life. We hurried along the walkway as we were guided by those in uniform. They were courteous and efficient as they pointed us to the approved entry tables for induction and then to the health inspection area. The process took about an hour, but no one was in a huge hurry because if there was a problem, then we might be sent back to Russia. Therefore, we took our time, signed all the papers we needed to sign, and got our inspections done and over with. Once the final signature was applied to the documents, we were welcomed into the nation where we would be able to live without fear.

Unlike some of the arrivals, we didn't have family waiting to meet us or running with open arms. No, we were on our own. My Papa was a resourceful man even in this strange and wonderful country, therefore, we followed him as he directed our path. Goodnight.

December 23, 1900- Sunday

Entry #20

Dear Diary:

I suppose I could retell the entire journey from our homeland to this nation we now call home. But, if I chose to do that it might prove to be futile, even discouraging to some. So, I'll highlight the events from our arrival on Ellis Island to our apartment in Brooklyn. New York City was accustomed to the influx of immigrants over recent years. New citizens from all over the world walked the streets in search of jobs, in search of a place to live. It was taken for granted that New York City was a great melting pot where anyone could find a place. That's true for most. For our family, the urgency still persists, and the anxiety is still real, but Papa has found a job in the lower downtown centers. His dream of becoming rich may never be fulfilled, but we have an apartment and Mama always has food to prepare for us. I and my sister am attending school and have made a few friends in the apartment building where we live. As far as Angelina, I found a way to keep in touch by using the address she left me aboard the ship. I await my first letter from her after sending a small note by mail to her some weeks ago. I'll be very excited to know if she made it to Boston, if she found her family, and if someday in the future perhaps we can see one another again.

This year we celebrate Christmas in a new country, a new city, and a new home. As sparse as things are, as tight as money is, Mama is still able to pull together the reflection of Christmas. The small roll of ribbon, the few glass ornaments, and a string of popcorn all adorn the small tree that sits in the corner of our main room. The glow of lights from candles placed in a few remote locations cast shadows that resemble those we had so many years ago in a world far, far away.

Goodnight diary, my ole friend, and Merry Christmas!