COMPLETELY NUMB
Wednesday, October 21st, 1964 at 3.30 in the afternoon and 17 years old, I stood on Cobh harbour platform in County Cork, Ireland with one suitcase in my hand and 10 dollars in my pocket. I was waiting for one of the tender boats to arrive back after delivering some of the passengers to the S.S. America ocean liner, that was docked out in Roche’s Point at the mouth of the harbour. That ship was going to take me on a 3,000 mile journey from Cork to New York in the United States of America.
My mother, father, youngest siblings, sister Katsy (3 years old), brother Francie (1 and a half years old), my first cousin Joan Hogan and Gary Quirk, the car driver, were there to see me off. My other six siblings - Mary, Billy, Bassy, Maggie, Kevin and Fergus and my cousin Seamus were at home under the supervision of my grandfather and Auntie Jule, with no idea of what was going on, except that their oldest sister was going some place far away called America.
The harbour was crowded with people. Some were saying goodbye to their family members and others just there to watch the immigrants sail off to America. As I stood there on the platform with my family and Gary, waiting for my turn to be called to the tender boat, I remember looking around and seeing all those people standing there and thinking, I don’t know any of them. So many people shaking hands and saying goodbye to their loved ones, with tears falling down their cheeks. Even people that had no family members leaving were crying for those that were.
And yet, others wished they were boarding that ship. I suppose it was the mystery of it all. To Ireland at that time, America was the promised land of plenty. And if that wasn’t sad enough, a man in his 40s wearing a tan raincoat must have thought it was his job to make everyone even sadder. He began singing ‘Goodbye Johnny Dear’, a sad lament about a boy leaving his mother and she begging him not to forget her when he was far away. Even the old grey stone wall that was standing there majestically keeping watch, seemed sad and lonely. And I’m sure if it could talk, it would have many tales to tell.
When it was time for me to line up for my departure, I shook hands with my parents, Joan and Gary and I watched tears fall from their eyes. I remember blondehaired Katsy in my father’s arms looking out under her fringe at me and Francis in my mother’s arms. And I’m sure they all thought they wouldn’t see me again for many years - or worse still, never again. But I had my own plan to return home in three years - and I did. My parents were going according to what happened to previous immigrants who had left Ireland, most of them never saw their families again because they didn’t have the money to return.
As I stood there I watched other tender boats transporting passengers to the ship. When it was my turn I got into this round boat with seven other passengers. It looked like a giant black rubber tire. When it began to move I turned around and I saw my family and Gary waving goodbye. I felt nothing, not sadness or happiness. I was completely numb. The tender boat took 10 minutes to reach the ocean liner and as I got closer, it looked like a giant wall before me.
I disembarked and I followed the other passengers onto the ship with my suitcase and a large manila envelope in my hand from the embassy in Dublin that held my medical records and a visa to enter the United States. I was met at the door by an immigration officer who said, “He would retain my records until I got to my final destination.” Almost right away I was met by a porter who told me to put my suitcase next to all the other suitcases and it would be delivered to my cabin later. I wondered if I would ever see it again.
Then, he escorted me through a large waiting room towards a wide mahogany staircase. We passed many passengers there. At first glance I noticed the carpet was burgundy with little designs. The windows were tall with burgundy velvet drapes trimmed in gold that draped the floor. As we climbed the grand staircase I saw ropes tied to the railings with gold hooks at the ends, I suspect they were there to shut off the stairs when necessary. I had never seen a staircase so grand. From the landing we headed towards a copper coloured elevator door. I didn’t know such a thing existed. The porter pressed a button and up we went to the first class level.
My cabin was just around the corner from the elevator. He unlocked my cabin door and handed me the key and left. I walked in to find an elderly lady standing in the middle of the cabin in a beige knit two-piece elegant suit. Her blonde hair perfectly coiffed. I would guess she was seventy years old. After we said hello, another woman in her forties lying in the bottom bunk inside the door saluted me. She was slim with reddish hair that was ruffled from being in bed. We introduced ourselves - unfortunately I don’t remember their names.
The cabin had two double bunk beds. I was assigned to the bottom bunk across from the door and the elderly lady over me. I switched bunks with her because I thought she was too old to be climbing a ladder. She thanked me for being so thoughtful. No one was assigned to the top bunk over the lady next to the door.
Because we were travelling first class, the cabin was actually spacious. It had a bureau and two desks. The bathroom had a round port hole window and I could see the water line and sometimes water splashing up against the glass. I found it very strange. But I was too young to be scared. After my suitcase arrived, the woman in the lower bunk inside the door struck up a conversation with me. She told me she had travelled from Australia with her husband to Southampton, England and she was seasick the whole time.
Her husband was so annoyed with her because she never left the cabin, that he flew home from London to Australia! But she still continued her journey to Cobh, Ireland and from there to the United States of America and she was still seasick. But she was determined to stay on the ship and sail to New York. After that, she told me she was going to Hawaii and then back to Australia.
An hour later the elderly lady announced it was time for us to go to dinner, but the seasick lady declined. Down the copper door elevator and the grand staircase we went. I would have been saying, ‘I’m Scarlet O’Hara, from Gone With The Wind’ but I didn’t know there was such a movie. We entered the dining room at seven o’clock where a host led me to a round table for eight. Because it was assigned seating, my roommate was assigned to another table.