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Irish Immigrants

Irish Immigrants . By: Scarlett. The Famine . On The Ships . At Ellis Island. Tenements. Work. Irish Families. O’Shaughnessy Family.

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Irish Immigrants

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  1. Irish Immigrants By: Scarlett

  2. The Famine

  3. On The Ships

  4. At Ellis Island

  5. Tenements

  6. Work

  7. Irish Families

  8. O’Shaughnessy Family Very little is known about this family, but we do know who these two people are John O'Shaughnessy (far left), born about 1806, married Bridget Conroy in 1836 ( she was born about 1814 in Galway, on January 31st).

  9. Thomas and Anna Kenan 1950 Thomas when he was young, came to America on the S.S. State of Florida. It was just lucky that he was not on the ship a year latter. One year after the ship set sail with Thomas on it collided with another ship in the middle of the ocean. One hundred and twenty three people died in that accident.

  10. Annie Moore Annie Moore was the first person to be register in the immigrant station at Ellis Island. Along with her two brothers Anthony and Phillip she crossed the sea from Queenstown Ireland to come to America to meet her parents who were already here.

  11. Journal Entry

  12. Pa woke me up this morning to say that today was the day and had insisted that I wake and be ready to leave our home. I asked him why we were leaving and he said that he finally has enough money to take us all to this place called America. He gave me some cloth bags and told me to pack as light as I can, but to bring warm clothes to change into. In all honesty I'm a bit scared and nervous about leaving our home, but Pa says it's for the best. He says we can't stay here any longer, with the British rule governing our lives and then two days ago another village was pillaged and burned. I haven't seen Erik since that day and I fear the worst for his life, he and I did everything together since we were wee lads.--I've overstuffed my nap-sack with as much of my clothes as I can place into it and I plan on wearing a few pairs for the trip just in case I need them. Ma-Ma and Pa are rushing around the house trying to get their own things together, Ma-Ma wants to take the picture albums but Pa keeps insisting that we must travel light but that makes Ma-Ma cry a lot. Pa says that we need to start our new life in America, and we can make new memories and take more pictures once we get there. He keeps telling Ma-Ma that everything will be alright and that it will all be better soon, but that's posing very little comfort for her. Ma-Ma's always been the sentimental type, I can't say that I blame her much as she's always been deeply attached to the family ... come to think of it, that's something that I didn't consider nor did I ask about. What about my kin, will they be going with us as well?--We're on the buggy now so my handwriting may be a bit shaky at times. I can't help but look over the fields and valleys where Erik and I used to play together and wonder if America will look like this. I hope that Erik is alright; maybe I'll look for him once we board the boat that Pa got for us. He says that it's going to be crowded and that we need to keep a hold of our things to be sure that no one pecks them from our hands. Pa is standing behind Ma-Ma with his arm wrapped around her comforting her; she keeps staring back at our home and weeping. Pa says I must be strong for Ma-Ma during this journey because she is going to be really sad. I can't cry, I won't let myself ... I must be strong, not just for Ma-Ma but because I can see it Pa's eyes, he hurts too.--This has got to be the biggest boat that I have ever seen; the only other one that I've been on was the old fishing trolley when I went with Pa. It's starting to get dark, and Pa says we need to hurry and be quiet about it. We walked up a long wooden board that Pa called a plank and we were escorted into the very bowels of the boat. There's an odd smell down here, like a combination of burned oil and urine. We found a small spot in the corner to call our own for this trip that Pa says will take a fortnight or more. I'm sitting on my duffel while I am writing this, there's a strange looking man who keeps staring at me, and his face is almost blank from expression. I don't see many things in his possession, and he looks like he's been burned and scared by something. I bet he has a story or two to tell, but I dare not ask it of him.--Pa says I should stop writing in my silly book, as he calls it. He says that when we get to America we will have hard work to do, not reading or writing. I've always had a love for words and how they can magically transport someone from one place to another, ironically it's almost like this boat and how it will be transporting us from one magical place to another. I keep hearing the others talk about how they think America will look, and how much more of a grand life we will lead once we get there. I see hope and happiness in their faces and so does Ma-Ma, I think that's giving her some comfort. Pa says I should close my eyes and rest now, but I'm too excited to sleep. I wish we could magically transport to America instantly, to dance in the lush green grass and breath deep the aroma of their wild flowers. I can almost feel the sun bearing down on me, warming me and taking the damp and chill off of me; Pa asks why I am smiling so much, and I can only supply one very simple and exasperated answer;We're going to America!

  13. Thank You!!!     

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