(The spacing has to be this way)
( The spacing on microsoft word, when copied and pasted here, makes the spacing all weird, sorry!)
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A necklace is all that I can remember…
“Hurry junanzo, we must hurry,” Ciela said
“Mama, where are we going,” junanzo cried “Where are we going?”
“Away,” was her only response.
She practically dragged her son down the pier as they rushed to get aboard the ship to America. Her
heart sped as the ship’s horn bellowed in the distance. At this, she grabbed her son into her arms with
her sweaty palms grasping his sides, her feet moving faster.
Junanzo buried his face into his mother’s neck with worry and confusion. He wore ratty clothing and had
a smudge of dirt plastered across his cheek. His mother was no better dressed than he and she too
could have used a bath.
Ciela reached the ramp nearly out of breath, she was about to ascend it but a policeman blocked her. He was nicely dressed in his uniform and had his Stella, which means badge in Italian, shined to a glow.
“Please, let us through, we need to get to America,” Ciela managed to say between breaths.
“There’s no room, you’ll have to stay here,” was his cold response.
“Please, I…” she tried to say. Reaching for his arm.
“I said no!” The officer shouted “Now off with ya’.”
“Please, there must be some way,” she cried.
The officer pulled out a long, scratched, beat up baton and gripped it in his hand.
“I said go!” he yelled, as another horn blew in the distance.
The sound of the horn and his yelling tore her heart inside out, she wasn’t strong enough.
A worker from the ship bent over the wall and yelled “Pull er’ up!”
The officer looked toward the ship worker and then to the lady in front of him, dressed in rags.
Junanzo looked curiously at the officer and quickly shoved his scared eyes into the neck of his mother
once more.
“Look, orders are orders lady; there isn’t enough room on the ship,” he said, his voice getting softer.
“If you can’t take me then take my son, I want a better life for him,” Ciela said, not realizing that she
would never see him again, she pried him off her neck and set him on the ground.
Tears welled in her eyes and she said, “Junanzo, my son, be brave and maybe one day we’ll meet
again”
“Mama, come with me, come with me,” he begged, “Don’t leave me.”
“Oh my son, you must go, Mama will be coming later,” she lied, barely keeping herself together.
“You promise mama, you promise?” his innocent voice squealed
Her lip quivered, she bit down on it and said, “Yes my son.”
At that she couldn’t hold it in, she bent down and embraced him, crying into his shoulders. She took
one
last smell of his musty clothing and stood up, taking a silver cross necklace from her neck and draping
it over his.
“Keep this with you, okay?” she painfully said between weeps.
“O.k. mama, I will,” He said, wondering why she was crying.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you too mama.”
“I said pull er’ up!” the same voice shouted.
The officer looked at the mother, tears starting to form in his own eyes.
Ciela’s eyes widened with panic and pain as she looked at the officer and her son.
She let her son go as the officer said, “Wait, there is a way.”
Her eyes filled with happiness, “Thank you, thank you” she cried.
She lifted her son into her arms once more and she ascended the ramp with the officer. Once on the
ship, the worker who was fussing over the ramp cranked it up, looking at them in frustration. Other
people aboard looked at her and her son in wicked gazes. People crowded the deck and Ciela now
knew why the officer was reluctant to let them on.
Thick steam rolled from the big stack above them as the dark water below started to churn. The officer
guided Ciela to a little broom closet and said, “I told you, there’s no more room” and left.
“Mama, it’s too small in here,” he whined.
“I know baby, but when we get to America land is more plentiful, the air is fresher, and you’ll have
freedom.” Ciela tried to comfort him by tattering his thick, dark hair. “In America there’s more space
then you’ll ever need.”
“Really?” he squealed, his brown eyes glowing with interest.
“Yes,” She laughed, “Everything in America is perfecto.”
Over the long, long voyage to America, Ciela told her son stories of the great adventures she had as a
kid. She told them over the light of an old, dirty oil lamp at the front of the ship as they listened to the
waves crash against the sides. When she told her stories his eyes would grow and illuminate with the
shocking details she divulged.
Junanzo’s favorite place on the ship was the front; sometimes without permission, he would sneak
there at night and look at the stars and the water. He would stick his hands over the side and feel the
little mist speckles breeze upon them. However some adult would spot him and turn him in to his
mother, who by that time they knew and loved.
His mother would punish him and tell him to never do it again, that it was dangerous, but he never
seemed to listen to her because he liked it too much.
A few weeks turned into a month and then a month and a half, finally though, they arrived. The boat
turned a bend and Junanzo and Ciela saw the Statue of Liberty peer into their view. They watched it
until it faded out of their sight, and then, Ciela knew they were free.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
My great great grandmother, Ciela yunoutzy traveled very far and struggled to get to America. This
story, while not based totally on fact, is the truth. After she arrived to America she traveled to
Cleveland, Ohio and gave birth to a new generation. She met my great great grandfather whose name
I do not know and some years later, they had children. What happened to little Junanzo you ask? Well
he too grew up and met my grandma, meemaw, I used to call her. Together they had sixteen children
and lived in Smithfield, Ohio. I, myself wouldn’t have known all of this if I didn’t happen upon a silver
necklace. I still have that necklace today and, in fact, it was given to me by Junanzo himself, or
grandpa I called him.
Rest in Peace.
