In the month of July 1947, having saved about fifty dollars from old veteran benefits, I was ready to go to the West Coast. My friend Remi Boncceur had written me a letter from San Francisco, saying
I should come and ship out with him on an around-the-world liner. He swore he could get me into the engine room. I wrote back and said I'd be satisfied with any old freighter so long as I could take a few long Pacific trips and come back with enough money to support myself in my aunt's house while I finished my book. He said he had a shack in Mill City and I would have all the time in the world to write there while we went through the rigmarole of getting the ship. He was living with a girl called Lee Ann; he said she was a marvelous cook and everything
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So he expected me to arrive in ten days. My aunt was all in accord with my trip to the West; she said it would do me good, I'd been working so hard all winter and staying in too much; she even didn't complain when I told her I'd have to hitchhike some. All she wanted was for me to come back in one piece. So, leaving my big half-manuscript sitting on top of my desk, and folding back my comfortable home sheets for the last time one morning, I left with my canvas bag in which a few fundamental things were packed and took off for the Pacific Ocean with the fifty dollars in my pocket.
I'd been poring over maps of the United States in Paterson for months, even reading books about the pioneers and savoring names like Platte and Cimarron and so on, and on the road-map was one long red line called Route 6 that led from the tip of Cape Cod clear to Ely, Nevada, and there dipped down to Los Angeles. I'll just stay on 6 all the way to Ely, I said to myself and
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All I could see were smoky trees and dismal wilderness rising to the skies. "What the hell am I doing up here?" I cursed, I cried for Chicago. "Even now they're all having a big time, they're doing this, I'm not there, when will I get there!"-and so on. Finally a car stopped at the empty filling station; the man and the two women in it wanted to study a map. I stepped right up and gestured in the rain; they consulted; I looked like a maniac, of course, with my hair all wet, my shoes sopping. My shoes, damn fool that I am, were Mexican huaraches, plantlike sieves not fit for the rainy night of America and the raw road night. But the people let me in and rode me north to Newburgh, which I accepted as a better alternative than being trapped in the Bear Mountain wilderness all night. "Besides," said the man, "there's no traffic passes through 6. If you want to go to Chicago you'd do better going across the Holland Tunnel in New York and head for Pittsburgh," and I knew he was right. It was my dream that screwed up, the stupid hearthside idea that it would be wonderful to follow one great red line across America instead of trying various roads and
The time this book takes place is the late 90s. Most of this book takes place in the western united states, which is not very populated at the time of the book. “after departing Las Vegas in May 1991.”p.38 “we know he spent July and August on the Oregon coast, probably in the vicinity of Astoria.” p.39. “In September he hitch down US highway 101 into California and then headed east into the desert again. And by early October he had landed in Bullhead city, Arizona.” p.39. These are the places he visited along the West Coast of the United States.
In the nonfiction novel The Devil in the White City, Erik Larson uses imagery, tone, and figurative language to portray the dreamlike qualities of Chicago and the beauty that lies within this city. Larson’s use of imagery causes the reader to picture the beautiful landscape of the fairgrounds before the fair becomes, which might make the reader wish they were apart of this scenery. Larson emphasizes people will see things they “have never seen before”. Like a “broad body of water extending into the horizon” (55) , making the reader feel as if
Could you imagine traveling the United States in just your specially made camper and the only company you have is your pet? John Steinbeck, the author of "Travels with Charley" wrote about his 1960's road trip about visiting multiple states. "What are Americans like today?"; that was the question that started his journey. His travels began in Long Island, New York, then he followed the outer border of the United States; from Maine to the Northwest. After he traveled to the Pacific Northwest, he went to Salinas Valley in California then across Texas, and through the Deep South. Finally after that 10,000 mile journey, he made is back safe and sound to New York.This rough and long trip included: meeting new people, exploring, and visiting different states.
When their journey began in 1846, the members of the Donner and Reed families had high hopes of reaching California, and they would settle at nothing less. Their dream of making a new life for themselves represented great determination. When their packed wagons rolled out of Springfield, Missouri, they thought of their future lives in California. The Reed family’s two-story wagon was actually called the “pioneer palace car”, because it was full of everything imaginable including an iron stove and cushioned seats and bunks for sleeping. They didn’t want to leave their materialistic way of life at home.
The author tied in the Russian incursion across the Aleutians southward and the Spanish colonization northward across California and Alaska, and near the very end, tells how Captain Cook arrived on the east coast in the middle
Everyone has their own unique story when it comes to immigration. Anaisa Truffin now 26 years has her very own unique experience of the immigration life. Through many great answers that she gave me I’m going to explain the struggles of having to abandon her youth to flourish in a new society.
Immigration has changed majorly over the years. The system that the immigrants go through has evolved into a simpler system over the decades. Also the family life of the immigrants has become much more supported, as opposed to back when it brutal and children were sent to work right beside the adults. The living conditions and job opportunities of the immigrants have transformed into a healthier environment, and the challenges they faced have become easier to handle. Immigration has been the key to success in some cases, but in others their stories are harsh and hard to hear. The transformation that immigration has gone through over the past century is tremendous and should be recognized by all.
The drive to cross the Kentucky border had taken hours and hours of strenuous patience to finally arrive in another state. The view was by far country like as hints of cow manure could be smelled far from a distance. We drive through small towns, half the size of our hometown of Glen Ellyn had been the biggest town we've seen if not smaller. The scenery had overwhelmed us, as lumps of Earth from a great distance turned to perfectly molded hills, but as we got closer and closer to our destination the hills no longer were hills anymore, instead the hills had transformed to massive mountains of various sizes. These mountains surrounded our every view as if we had sunken into a great big deep hole of green pastures. Our path of direction was seen, as the trails of our road that had followed for numerous hours ended up winding up the mountainous mountains in a corkscrew dizzy-like matter.
With the rapid economic development, more and more people try to immigrate to America and trying to learn English. Some parents would like their children just speaking English. However, there are some parents tend to keep their native language and teach to their children, in order to keep their culture alive. And in my opinion, parents should keep their old language alive.
As I zoomed down the interstate, I caught a glimpse of a sign that read “New Palestine Next Exit.” Something didn’t feel right but I just shrugged it off and kept driving. It was late and my friends and I were all anxious to get to the bowling alley so we could continue our fun-filled Friday night. Ten miles later, a light on my dashboard started blinking so I pulled into the nearest gas station to fill up my tank. Then it hit me: I was on the complete opposite end of town. Remember that famous line in The Wizard of Oz, “I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore”? Well, that was me, except Kansas was my hometown on the west side of Indianapolis and Oz was who-knows-where in the urban eastside. I was lost.
At a young age, my teachers and parents taught me to believe that I could do and accomplish anything that I set my mind to. I grew up thinking that I was unstoppable and that the only limit to my achievements was the sky. However, during my second year in high school, I began to realize that I was not as unstoppable as I had thought. I began to experience the consequences of my parent’s decision of bringing me to the United States illegally. Among those consequences were, not being able to apply for a job, obtain a driver’s license or take advantage of the dual enrollment program at my high school, simply because I did not possess a social security number. I remember thinking that all of my hard work was in vain and that I was not going to
United States usually known as the “melting pot” and it is a typical immigrant country. In the past 400 years, United States has become a mixture of more than 100 ethnic groups. Immigrants bring they own dream and come to this land, some of them looking for better life for themselves and some want to make some money to send back home or they want their children to grow up in better condition. Throughout the history there’s few times of large wave of immigration and it is no exaggeration to say that immigrants created United States. For this paper I interview my neighbor and his immigration story is pretty interesting.
Immigration has always been a large conflict people have faced all across the world. There are plenty of reasons why people migrate to a country, whether it may be the United States or any other particular one. Many people often come in an attempt to escape poverty, crime, or to simply have a better opportunity to better their lifestyle. Although there are people who migrate and commit severe crimes, there are others who sacrifice themselves in order to live a better life. In addition to that, I believe the government should approve new immigration laws in favor of immigrants who come to better their life and achieve their dreams.
I slowly trudged up the road towards the farm. The country road was dusty, and quiet except for the occasional passing vehicle. Only the clear, burbling sound of a wren’s birdsong sporadically broke the boredom. A faded sign flapped lethargically against the gate. On it, a big black and white cow stood over the words “Bent Rail Farm”. The sign needed fresh paint, and one of its hinges was broken. Suddenly, the distant roar of an engine shattered the stillness of that Friday afternoon. Big tires speeding over gravel pelted small stones in all directions. The truck stopped in front of the red-brick farmhouse with the green door and shutters. It was the large milking truck that stopped by every Friday afternoon. I leisurely passed by fields of corn, wheat, barley, and strawberries. The fields stretched from the gradient hills to the snowy mountains. The blasting wind blew like a bellowing blizzard. A river cut through the hilly panorama. The river ubiquitously flowed from tranquil to tempestuous water. Raging river rapids rushed recklessly into rocks ricocheting and rebounding relentlessly through this rigorous river. Leaves danced with the wind as I looked around the valley. The sun was trapped by smoky, and soggy clouds.
The youth and discontented heard about the travelers heading West; inspiration struck like a wave amongst a vast majority of the young. From farmhands struggling to make a living, to those who wanted to make a living away from the industry and wealthy plaguing the cities. There are many types of people who are fascinated and enthralled by the idea of settling a new frontier. There were those who wanted the American originality of living in the wilderness and to provide for themselves, along with supporting their families from the fruit of the land with dirt in their boots. Although, not all were impressed with the changes America was about to go through.