Yesterday, for the first time in 8 years, the crown of the Statue of Liberty opened to the public (indefinitely closed since 9-11). Only 240 people are allowed up. Today we get to be one of those people!
We arrive to Liberty Island from the empty New Jersey side. Even thou
gh only a small portion of tickets are allocated to get inside the statue’s pedestal, and it is still early in the morning, there is already a Disney-size line to get in. The kids and I bypass that line (leaving Grandma and Greg behind in it), and are escorted straight through security. We are allowed to bring absolutely nothing except a camera (not even cell phones or wallets). We laugh at each other as our hair flies up in the “air puffer” security machines. We are last in a group of 10 people who are allowed to climb, so by the time we reach the crown, we have it completely to ourselves! Definitely a different experience than the “olden days” when you could wait for 5 hours only to be briefly pushed through the crown, allowed to hesitate for a 1-second view. We hang out for a while, appreciating the moment.
We stop at Ellis Island long enough to take a rubbing of my mom’s family name – even though when they came from Germany, they didn’t enter through the island, as they were sponsored.
Next Greg gets to drive through the Holland Tunnel to Manhattan. Learning to drive in L.A. barely prepares you for the chaos on the streets. As it turns out, cars don’t pay any attention to red lights either, if any traffic laws at all. Their favorite stunt seems to be to cram themselves into intersections as the light turns red. Regardless, we arrive safely to my mom’s childhood home in Queens. The kids are visiting for their first time. My Oma still lives
there. After a while, mom tells me it is time to leave – though I feel like I can stay holding Oma’s hand, listening to her ageless voice forever. She is 94 years old. There is a good chance I’m hugging her for the last time. Thank you hun, and mom, because without you I wouldn’t have this memory.
We arrive to Liberty Island from the empty New Jersey side. Even thou
gh only a small portion of tickets are allocated to get inside the statue’s pedestal, and it is still early in the morning, there is already a Disney-size line to get in. The kids and I bypass that line (leaving Grandma and Greg behind in it), and are escorted straight through security. We are allowed to bring absolutely nothing except a camera (not even cell phones or wallets). We laugh at each other as our hair flies up in the “air puffer” security machines. We are last in a group of 10 people who are allowed to climb, so by the time we reach the crown, we have it completely to ourselves! Definitely a different experience than the “olden days” when you could wait for 5 hours only to be briefly pushed through the crown, allowed to hesitate for a 1-second view. We hang out for a while, appreciating the moment.We stop at Ellis Island long enough to take a rubbing of my mom’s family name – even though when they came from Germany, they didn’t enter through the island, as they were sponsored.
Next Greg gets to drive through the Holland Tunnel to Manhattan. Learning to drive in L.A. barely prepares you for the chaos on the streets. As it turns out, cars don’t pay any attention to red lights either, if any traffic laws at all. Their favorite stunt seems to be to cram themselves into intersections as the light turns red. Regardless, we arrive safely to my mom’s childhood home in Queens. The kids are visiting for their first time. My Oma still lives
there. After a while, mom tells me it is time to leave – though I feel like I can stay holding Oma’s hand, listening to her ageless voice forever. She is 94 years old. There is a good chance I’m hugging her for the last time. Thank you hun, and mom, because without you I wouldn’t have this memory.
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