I am kind of on a non-posting thing right now, but something caught my eye. I linked to a web page about immigrants making cars into boats to reach America and I was reminded of an event I witnessed in Miami about 12 years ago. We were at a club right on the ocean (actually called “Ocean’s 11″, just for fun facts) when two large boats were spotted drifting ashore. As the cops rolled in, the lights showed us the hundred + Haitian immigrants as they jumped ship and tried to escape. Call me naive, but it was heart wrenching to watch those young men and women shivering on the beach in fear. They probably had no inkling of what they were in for. We were ushered back as we were told they could have communicable diseases. It makes me sad to this day to think of the desperation and determination it must have taken to do what they did. They actually reached the shore and were captured, only to be sent back. It seems so sad. As I said, call me naive. Where are the open arms…
The New Colossus by Emma Lazarus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
