A New, New Colossus?

Preface - This is about America’s past, its national pastime, and its future.

“Do you want to see Hank Greenberg’s bat? How about a Sandy Koufax autographed baseball?” 

We’re talking about Hank Greenberg, the legendary Tiger slugger who led the way in Detroit’s capture of the American League championship in 1940. Sandy Koufax, is the venerated three time Cy Young Award winning Dodger southpaw, and another legend in his own time. 

Not really expecting to view, no less hold, holy grail level baseball memorabilia in the place we envisioned holding only stacks of books and documents, we responded,  … “Sure”. That was “Sure” albeit with the slight uncertainty of a defense mechanism mounted to avoid major disappointment. We didn’t think the items would actually appear. But moments later there they were. Was it all a dream? 

Not at all, but then where were we?

Answer: on NYC’s lower west side on a private tour of the American Jewish Historical Society (AJHS), the oldest cultural archive in the US. The institution houses millions of documents and tens of thousands of books, photographs, art, and artifacts all reflecting the history of the Jewish presence in America since colonial times. It’s a mind-boggling collection.

The Society considers what it has amassed to be no less than the future of the American Jewish past. 

‘The future of the past’ - That mission statement gave me pause to reflect. Recalling William Faulkner’s haunting quote, “the past is not dead, it’s not even past”, AJHS’ vision of itself serving as custodian of a living past is a lot to chew on. 

No worries, I decided to take a bite and chomp on it. But for now, back to baseball.

Growing up as members of the Brooklyn faithful who loved its borough’s Dodgers, my wife and I were blown away with what we held in our hands. The archive housed even more Koufax and Dodger baseball stuff to savor. But the elation quickly paled in comparison to what happened next. Our guide brought out and let us turn the pages of another AJHS gem, the original journal in which Emma Lazarus entered her most famous sonnet. That’s the Emma Lazarus who wrote, 

"Give me your tired, your poor, 

Your huddled masses yearning to be free"

The New Colossus

There it was, in pen and ink, in her own hand, The New Colossus, her composition written to raise money for construction of the pedestal for the Statue of Liberty. 

Emma Lazarus' words always inspired Americans to see their country as one welcoming the stranger. The poem was so intertwined with Lady Liberty's symbolism, it was cast onto a bronze plaque and mounted inside the pedestal's lower level. After all, unless you're Native American, we were all strangers arriving here at one time.

Sadly, that lofty vision who we are is under attack. Right out of an Orwellian playbook, Ken Cuccinelli, Acting Director of US Citizenship and Immigration recently suggested Lazarus' poem should be changed in order to restrict entry to only those among the tired and poor "who can stand on their own two feet and who will not become a public charge". He actually said that! I'm confident Cuccinelli, always sporting his stars and stripes lapel pin, holds these truths to be self-evident - that all men are created equal. Today, I'm also confident he understands that tenet to mean - but some men are created more equal than others. 

So much for the purity of Emma Lazarus' view of Lady Liberty's welcoming light at the entrance to New York harbor .... 

A Mighty woman with a torch, whose flame 

Is the imprisoned lightning ..... 

From her beacon-hand 

Glows world-wide welcome 

Cuccinelli wants to re-write history to reshape the future. This step would extinguish Lady Liberty's flame leaving her in a fog, a mere shadow of who she was and what she represented. The wordsmithery would put a smile on Big Brother's usually dour face. Cuccinelli wants a New, New Colossus. 
       For everyone descended from families originating on distant shores, that re-write is no less than a shot across the bow, a Code Red. We can't allow it. It won't be easy, but if there's a will, there's a way. Let's find our own way to find that way. 

This is about America’s past ….. and its future.

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images © David Greenfield

The Magicians

Aedres

The reel was frozen - hadn’t been used in a year. Attempting to let out or rewind the fine nylon line elicited fingernail on the blackboard sounds. If that wasn’t enough, a dozen or so curlicues of line sprouted from within the reel’s inner workings. The prospect of having to untangle them sealed its fate. I now considered the rod & reel history and destined for land fill. No worries, it was an inexpensive kid-type assembly bought for my grandkids so they could dangle a worm at lake’s edge, hoping  to hook a Sunny. But my friend Aedres really wanted to fish. Undeterred he started what I already considered a no-win salvage operation. To Aedres, the land fill destined apparatus was actually the best rod & reel …. it was the one he had, the only one around. I knew he faced more salient realities before this episode. What he proceeded to do next reminded me of one late Havana afternoon when a Cuban guy shared a secret as I gawked at his showroom worthy ‘56 Chevrolet. What was it?

my Cuban car guy friend and Chevy in Havana

Despite The Embargo on American exported parts imposed after the 1959 Cuban Revolution, my Cuban friend kept that Chevy looking like the classic it was and still on the road sixty years after rolling off General Motors’ assembly line. “So what’s your secret, how do you do it?”, I asked. With an impish smile and sparkle in his eye he said, “it’s magic ….. and we’re all magicians.”

Magicians never reveal secrets or tell you how their tricks are done, but there are exceptions. This was one - when I first approached this self-declared wizard doting on his classic, it was the wheel from somewhere bolted onto the steering shaft that I quickly took note of. Definitely not a Chevrolet issued option. Eclectic would be a good descriptor. Same could be said for the non-regulation hub caps. Could a potion of imagination, ingenuity, and skill to create after-market necessities be this Cuban car guy’s magic? Could be, but what about the tires? They appeared original, US made, and pristine. Since a stroll down to the local Sears or Goodyear to buy new tires was a non starter, how did my wizard friend pull that rabbit out of the hat? Turns out he didn’t have to go tire shopping, his son-in-law in Canada did. And there’s no Cuban embargo for our northern neighbor! After a little intra-family commerce you can connect the dots. The emerging picture reveals a glimpse into the various sleights of hand keeping a vintage US fleet, seemingly stuck in a 1950s time warp, still rumbling through Havana’s streets. 

Long before I first witnessed Cuban auto magic, similar magic was at work for me. In my case the magician was Ana. She performed her wizardry during twenty years working seamlessly by my side. Aside from her absolutely fabulous smile and fastidious work ethic, her specialty was fixing things. Ana hails from the Azores. There she understood one didn’t simply toss out the old and buy new when the current set up became disabled. You replaced a gasket or hose or found some other way to put a hobbled apparatus back into service. In short, you fixed it. 

Ana and her husband Julian. Julian is from Colombia. 

They met while at school in MA. They’re special people. 

Our country needs more like them.

Now back to the lake to check on Aedres’ against all odds effort to actually catch fish with that landfill destined rod. 

Aedres quickly assessed the reel needed surgery. That meant opening it up to reveal inner organs, effect a repair, then close the patient up. That’s what he did. Ignoring the grating sounds when unscrewing the reel halves, Aedres patiently and in orderly fashion disassembled a mélange of sand encrusted nuts, washers, and some other unidentifiable parts comprising the reel’s guts. As I remained mesmerized he cleaned and re-assembled the inner workings leaving no extra pieces. Impressive, to say the least. But what about the sprouting curlicues of line? For this ailment, he did resort to the scalpel … actually a pocket knife. Rather than untangle too many knots and tangles to be counted, with my assistance we excised the blockage to yield unencumbered line. Voilà, the rod and reel was ready, fish beware. 

After a field test, or rather a lake test, Aedres handed the rod to his son Hamoudie. Hamoudie could now cast, but he was intent on catching the bait sized fish swimming right by the shore. It didn’t take long before he did. Although a half dozen more similar catches were needed before he could fill a sardine can, Hamoudie was happy. So was Aedres.  It was magical.

Pictured, in size order - Me, Hamoudie, and his ‘sardine’.

photo credit: Aedres

Afterword:

In case you’re wondering, Aedres is from Syria. When Assad’s bombs made his neighborhood more dangerous than the uncertain journey to a safer place Aedres and his family would have to undertake, they fled to Turkey. As Kurds, Turkey was not a welcoming respite, but it wasn’t lethal. As you can surmise, during the journey there was often no supply chain for necessities. To manage, it took imagination, ingenuity, and skill, traits the Cuban car guy and Ana share. They are the essential amino acids of functioning in their respective worlds. 

I wish no hardship on anyone, but as our planet’s air, water, and landfills begin to cough up all that we have loaded into them for so long, we should take a page from and be inspired by the enterprise of my trio of magicians to repair, reuse, recycle, and re-purpose. No magic required.

Visit my web site anytime to view other Galleries, Photo-essays, and read previous blog-posts, then kindly share on social media. Thank you.

images © David Greenfield