The Arab and the Brit: The Last of the Welcome Immigrants

11 Ellis Island and Beyond

100 11 Ellis Island and Beyond N’cola would always remember clearly, the chaos that was Ellis Island, even though he was only four years old at the time he experienced it. It was a bit less than thirty acres in size. Every member of every family was required to go ashore and meet with immigration officials. Radia had been dreading this part of the trip. She had heard horror stories about families who had been separated—some accepted for immigration, some sent back to their home country. Families were sometimes forced to make snap decisions about whether some would stay or all would return to their country of origin. She knew she couldn’t bear the trauma of splitting up the family. Everyone stood in a long line that snaked its way from the ferry boat wharf to the Ellis Island processing building. The building wasn’t large. It was a stone and brick structure three stories high. The line of people entered on the first floor, where their names were checked off against the ship’s manifest. They then moved to another line awaiting their turn to proceed upstairs to visit with a customs agent. This line moved fairly quickly because several agents were serving in parallel work stations, much like a row of bank tellers. Nevertheless, it was late morning before the Rizk family stood before the all-powerful immigration agent. N’cola was frightened by all the noise in the narrow hallways. Then they entered the large echoing chamber where customs agents awaited. He clung tightly to Radia’s hand and buried his face in her long skirt. Habeeb knew he was better off letting Radia handle this part of the process. Neither of them spoke English, and Habeeb knew that his general resentment of bureaucratic authority (learned so well at the Ottomans’ hands) might get them into trouble. Ellis Island and Beyond | 101 “Name?” queried the immigration clerk. Radia looked at him blankly. “Appelez-vous?” the clerk tried again. This time Radia decided that he must be asking their name. “Rizk,” she pronounced carefully in Arabic. “Rizk?” the immigration clerk tried to repeat the strange-sounding name. Radia nodded in agreement. The clerk then wrote down R-E-Z-A-K. Little did the Rizks know at the time that this clerk had officially provided their new Arab American name. “First name?” asked the clerk, looking at Habeeb. Habeeb did not respond. “Habeeb,” stated Radia. The clerk wrote some more. “Your first name?” came the next question, this directed at Radia. “Radia.” The clerk hesitated momentarily and then wrote again. He looked back at Radia, assessing that she was the leader here and demanded, “His name?” as he glanced at Daoud and back at her. “Daoud,” stated Radia. This time the clerk did not hesitate. He seemed to recognize this name, and he wrote down “David” to record it. “And his name?” the clerk finally asked, looking at N’cola. “N’cola,” responded Radia. Again, the clerk nodded authoritatively and wrote down “Nicholas.” The paper upon which the immigration clerk had been writing had several layers with carbon sheets in between. He kept the bottom copy and handed Radia the rest. “Medical line,” he stated, nodding toward the next long line. The medical line did not move as fast. At first, the family could not see where it led. It soon became evident, however, that people were being given some kind of physical examination. Men and women were separated for this portion of the exercise, which caused Radia no small amount of anxiety because it meant that Habeeb and the boys would go in one direction and she in another. She worried that Habeeb might take offense at the intrusion and the probing of his children. She didn’t want him to jeopardize their processing by snapping at the physicians and nurses. Doctors spent a few minutes with each person. They listened through a stethoscope to heart and lungs. The idea was to detect and stop anyone with a contagious illness from entering the country. Tuberculosis was 102 | The Arab and the Brit high on the list of undesirable maladies. If people had not been vaccinated for smallpox, that was administered. Other shots were given for tetanus, diphtheria, and the like. There was much screaming and chattering regarding these pokes. N’cola was no exception, although Daoud was much more stoic. And, finally...