Irish moving to America

Imagine this, you’re a 14 year old Irish boy in the year 1905, when starvation sweeps across the country side and no work is to be found. Your only hoep is to go to the Land of the Free,

America. You soon find yourself on a small tightly packed boat for two months, with hundreds of others going to America. As you pull into the harbor, you see the sign of freedom, the Statue of Liberty, and you know that you have finally made it.

This is only part of what my family had to endure so they could be free and so they could survive. Tons of Irishmen flocked to America in search of food and work, but they were turned down. Being criticized constantly and some business put up signs that said “Irish need not apply!”. America, the Land of the Free, turned it’s back on the Irish and on my family.

My great-great grandpa, William, was only 14 then and he had two brothers, two sisters, and a mom and dad: John 12, Jacob 3, Elizibeth 18, and Amy 17.

They moved into the slumps of the Irish part of New York City and seven of them looked for work in “their part” of the city. All of them found work in a textile factory not far from their home. They each got paid less then minimum wage and work conditions were hazardous; within two years Jacob was old enough to work. He was only five.

With the whole family working now, they managed to work up enough money between them to buy a “nice” apartment. It only had two small bedrooms, and a little sitting place.

Things were going well, they wern’t as bad as they use to be.

Having enough of the city life and working in the factory the two girls Elizibeth and

Amy split away from the familyand went their own ways in 1908. They writ one letter home that year saying that they were heading towards California and were doing well. After that they were never heard from again.

Two years later in 1910, William moved out at the age of 19. He got himself a new job