My family (me, my mother, brother, and aunt) arrived at Boston's Logan Airport on February 3, 1960 on a TWA flight from Santa Maria, Açores. I remember that the flight took all night( probably at least 9 hours). I also remember that it was a rough flight with turbulence and lightning. I was scared and couldn't wait to get to our destination.
We landed in Boston and there was some snow on the ground. It was very cold and windy. When we stepped out of the plane, a gust of wind blew my brother's new woolen cap off his head.
None of us spoke any English so I don't know (and don't remember) how we made it through immigration and customs.
Out waiting for us were our cousins, the two sons- Junior and Arnold- of my mother's uncle (tio Fernando, one of her father's seven siblings). We had never met them before except in pictures which their father would send to my mother. They spoke enough Portuguese to welcome us and make conversation on our ride to east Cambridge where they lived and where we would live also.
The ride was a bit of a disappointment through the streets of the North End with their dark brick buildings and mounds of dirty brown snow. In the few american movies I had seen the houses were light in color and the snow was pure white. In east Cambridge the houses were wooden three story buildings closely set next to each other. No yards with lawns and no picket fences like in the movies.
We arrived at Thorndike Street where the family lived in a 3-story house, tio Fernando on one floor and the other two occupied by his sons and their respective family.(Later I found that it was the typical extended family arrangement of the families in that neighborhood).
We met the cousins' wives and children and there was a table of food waiting for us in Junior's kitchen. It was all very different but very exciting.
Our passport pictures
5 comments:
Flavia -- An impressive chronicle you have begun. It reads like the beginning of an interesting novel! I love the inclusion of your passport (I assume) photos! I'll look forward to reading more installments.
Hi Marilyn,
Thank you for your kind comments. These are the pictures that were my mother's passport. As minors we were included in her passport.
There will be more so I hope you become a follower of my blog.
Flavia, what a wonderful story, many of us can relate to it. I too embarked on my journey to the US on July 21st, 1966. I was also 10 years and have very fond memories of those days. I look forward to following your blog.
Linda
Flavia, what a great idea ! I am looking forward to reading about your travels.We too had our photos in my mother's passport: it was required by law in those days!
We did not go anywhere, though. At last minute my mother decided to stay!!! :)
Adding some details to your blog it looks like we went on the ship to Santa Maria on Feb 1. It was a very stormy day and the departure kept getting delay due to very bad weather. Finally we left Ponta Delgada about 6PM. When we got to Santa Maria, the weather was still bad and raining and big waves. At the time, Santa Maria didn't have a harbor that the ship tied up to, so we had to go from the big ship to a boat that took us ashore. The smaller boat was bobbing up and down on the big waves. We had to walk down on the staircase on the side of the ship, then wait at the landing until the boat was level with it. Some men, then threw us into the boat along with our luggage. Once we got to shore, the same thing happened. I was carrying the German battleship that father made in 1939. I don't know how that survived. We were picked up and stayed with some acquaintance. I don't know who they were, but I think were related to Olga, Mario Alberto's mother.
They took us to the airport late on Feb. 2. It was still stormy. It seems to me that we departed Santa Maria early in the morning of Feb. 3. The airplane was a TWA Constellation (nicknamed Connie), a classic pre-jet age plane, distinguished by its three tails. I brought a paperback novel to read on the flight, Os Abutres do Rio, a cowboy story that I still have and should see if I can read it.
I sat by a window over the wing. During the flight, I could see flame exhaust coming out of the engines and was sure that the plane was going burn up. When we got to Boston, my hat flew when I got outside the plane (way before jetways) at the top of the stairs. I ran down the stairs to get it and slipped when I got to the icy tarmac. It was my first encounter with ice.
When we got to immigration, there was a large woman with red hair and a coat with a big collar who served as the translator. She spoke the brand of Portuguese-American that we weren't used to yet, so it was difficult to understand what she was asking. We did eventually get through immigration, got our luggage and were picked by Freddie. There had been a pretty big snowstorm a few days before, so the streets were still snowy and there were big piles on the sidewalk. We stayed in Freddie's3rd floor apartment where he lived with his wife, Gilda, and daughter Debby. I don't think their son was born yet. There we were introduced to black and white TV, drip coffee, and cigarette smoking. I remember the coffee and cigarette smells, and watching Saturday morning cowboy shows (Lone Ranger, Hopalong Cassidy) with Debby. Tio Fernando lived with Arnold, his wife Mimi, and their son, Bill on the second floor. Bill nicknamed me Charlie and that's how I was known in the Thorndike Street neighborhood. Arnold's mother-in-law lived on the first floor of the three-decker. Her apartment was the first one where I encountered plastic-covered furniture and lamps, and a plastic runner across the carpeted floor going from the living room door to the couch! Tio Fernando spent his time writing music for different instruments in the Santo Cristo Clube marching band. Arnold played tuba in the band. I am pretty sure that Arnold and Freddie worked at the casket company, where our mother worked later.
They found the third-floor, no heat, $30 a month apartment for us a couple of houses us from theirs and donated some furniture. They got jobs for mom and Alda at the factory by the Lechmere subway station that made rain slickers. Arnold took us to Putnam School where we met with Mr. Tobin and were sent to Longfellow School. As I learned later, we should have gone to Thorndike School where everyone from our neighborhood went. They also showed us how to shop at the A&P market on Cambridge Street. There was nothing like the self-serve concept in Sao Miguel. A couple of weeks later, we moved into our apartment and started going to Longfellow School.
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