My great-grandfather Tomas came to America from Poland when he was
fifteen. His mother had become ill and died, and his father remarried to be
able to take care of his seven children. Tomas didn’t like his stepmother, so
he ran away to Belgium, where he boarded a ship to America – without a
ticket. He was clearly something of a free spirit. Arriving in America with
nothing, he got a job on the railroads in California. Then one day he saw an
announcement in a newspaper that was read by immigrants. It was from
his brother in New York who was also seeking his fortune in America and
was looking for him. Tomas got in touch and they had an emotional reunion
in New York, where Tomas subsequently settled. This is the story that my
grandmother has passed down to us, to my parents and all my aunts and
uncles. She is an amazing woman and the head of the family, I suppose; the
one who holds us all together. She’s actually quite forgetful now, but she
never forgets family details. What that has meant is that all of us – brothers,
aunts, cousins – have a strong family bond and a strong sense of belonging
to a group that has struggled and fought together to succeed here.