I remember that day like it was only yesterday. America. The chance for a new start. To find the American dream as they call it.

Ellis Island

"Why are you here?", asked the annoyed gentleman sitting behind a pew.

There was a line of hundreds of others attempting to get into America and the gentlemen wanted to just hurry up and get onto the next family. Different languages could be heard all around Ivan. He heard a few different dialects of his own language. He knew they were from the Eastern European countries. 

"Sir. Why are you standing in front of me ruining my day? What are you doing in front of me?", the man continued to harass my father.

My father didn't speak much english. All I knew was my father signed some kind of contract labor agreement from some recruiting agents. My father was in with the needle trades. He was great with manufacturing clothing. A true pioneer.

"I am sorry but my father doesn't speak english good. My father's name is Igor Romanov. We are from Russia.", I told the man still looking down at my father from his mighty pew.

The man then started to ask generic questions regarding our family. 

"Have you any money? Do you have any relatives in the United States? Are you a polygamist? Are you an anarchist?"

The man kept asking these questions and accepting our own generic answers. He didn't seem to care what we answered as long as he had something to write down. He continued with us until a someone to the side yelled next out loud. It was the doctor screening that we saw taking place only a few dozen feet away from us. We walked over there as a family, my mother, father and I. As we walked over we caught a better glimpse of what was going on.

People were verbally forced to remove parts of their clothing, not really knowing what was going on. Some were willing to do so and understood the aspect of finding diseases and other illnesses. Some weren't so friendly with the process at all.

"Hello family. We will now be conducting the medical phase of your entry process.", a friendly looking nurse said with a fake smile.

I returned the fake smile with my own and I told my folks what was going on. My mother was a very conservative woman. She understood the reasoning behind this but was definitely not one to sit their with her shirt open for all to see. She unbuttoned her shirt as little as the nurse would allow. Acting as their interpreter, I continued to tell my parents what the nurses and doctors had said.

"Nurse can you go make sure that guy over there gets denied? I cannot believe he thinks he's getting past us with being a cripple."

The doctor took his last few looks over myself and my parents as he told the nurse to run off and deny entry to someone who probably fought in the latest World War. 

"Alright you three. Everything looks good and all."

The doctor stamped our papers with approval. I stood there not completely knowing what had just happened between the few hours we spent getting prodded and verbally abused.

"You need to get out of the way so the next foreigner can waste my time."

"Poydem", I said to my parents who weren't sure what had just happened either.

We continued to walk through the masses to get to the exit. As we walked towards it, I started to notice all the people who were denied to continue on. They were all herded up like cattle in a secluded area with guards. I don't think all of them understood what was going on because some of them had smiles while others were crying frantically. As we walked I even heard a guard say to another that these people were meant to be sent back to their country of origin at the expense of the shipping line. What a waste of time I thought to myself. 

We exited the building we were in and were told to proceed to the docking area to catch a smaller ferry to the mainland. 

"Lets go, hurry up. I wanna do at least a few more of these trips before the island closes for the day.", said the ferry boat operator.

As we got onto the over crowded small boat, a man approached me to start up some conversation. He looked like he was Italian but I couldn't be sure. I hadn't met too many Italians in my time before this.

"Hows it goin? The names Al.", he said as he introduced himself.

"Alright I guess after that whole ordeal. I'm ready to just start the new life ya know?"

"New life huh? Well don't expect it to be all that buddy. Trust me."

As he said that I wondered what he had meant. I mean this is the opportunity to start in America. 

So what brought you here? A mother, a father? Another distant relative? Perhaps a lover. Or maybe it was revenge that you were seeking. What drove you to set foot on that boat, to rest your feet on American soil? What was, or maybe still is, the American dream that you are searching for? 

Livia listened to the man's recollection of his trip over. As he recalled the events, her mind began to wander.

Livia,

I am sorry that my first letter to you must be unpleasant, but there is trouble brewing here. There are murmurs of wrong doings going around the families and I'm fearful for your mother. I believe she needs you. I'm sure she is too stubborn to alert you of any dangers, that is why I am taking it upon myself to warn you. Please come.

My eyes filled with tears as I wondered what kind of trouble my mother might be in. I grabbed the suitcase from under my bed and began to pack. How would I ever make it in time? Snapping the suitcase shut, I rushed downstairs, in search of my grandmother.

"Nonna! Nonna dove sei?? Devo andare in America!" I cried out to my grandmother. She appeared from the kitchen, a look of confusion and concern on her face. She began asking me all kinds of questions but I just shook my head. I had no answers and no time. I kissed her on the cheek and before she could say another word I rushed out the door.

Clearing her throat, Livia stepped forward.

"I too remember my journey to this land Mr. Romanov. I came hear because I received word that my mother might be facing trouble in this land of opportunity. I have very similar memories of the treatment at Ellis Island. As if the boat ride were not grueling enough... The harsh questions, the stiff, rude manner in which they conduct their examinations."  She shuddered at the memory.

I didn't plan on staying here. Except that by the time I reached my mother, I was too late. Her Godfather had been struck down and she had taken ill. In her last days I spent all my time with her associates and they became just like family to me. I knew that after she passed,  I would not be returning to Italy. This is truly the land of opportunity and I am eager to take advantage of that. Thank you for sharing your story with us.

Curtis listens to his friend speaking and thinks back to his arrival on these shores. Smiling at the memory he decides to share.

"Ivan, this is always an interesting topic. Usually full of diverse and interesting stories."

He took his silver hip flask from his jacket and took a swig before screwing the cap back on and continuing. 

"My family had returned to the old country for a long time. I was happily minding my own business when I got a birthday message from a-true-soprano's son TheNewGuy. He told me to get a boat over to New York and connect with a lot of old friends who's blood was close to my own. He also asked me to come because he wanted help to get rid of what he saw as a big problem in the way the mob was being run at the time. I agreed to come and got the long boat trip over.

Well, a lot has happened since I arrived. It has been wonderful to be a part of all this and see how my past line have loved it so. The families and friends I have are as strong as any that preceded my generation. TheNewGuy and I worked very hard and together with some fantastic friends and allies, managed to remove the mobsters that were hindering our way of life for all our family and friends. Don't get me wrong, there has been plenty of heartache and some terrible loss along the way too. Not just my Godmother and long time friend but also my dear brother in La Fratellanza, TheNewGuy."

He takes out his flask once more and after pouring a respectful drop onto the floor, he takes a large swig to hold back the feeling.

"But overall, I'm very glad I answered my old friend's letter. This life is as rough and unjust as it is rewarding and fun. You have to sign up for the whole experience, good and bad. I know I'll die one day but I'll die happy knowing I don't regret one day that I've lived."

Walking over to Ivan he shakes his hand and thanks him for the topic and allowing him a moment of nostalgia. 

Ivan continued to listen to the two individuals that gave the story of their own time coming over from the old country. He was more than grateful to think that at least a couple of people shared his own thoughts on the gruesome treatments over at Ellis Island. To think they both had their own reasons of coming over, was unique in each circumstance.

Thank you both for sharing your own reasons for coming over. 

To me, everyone has their own reasons to come over. I am glad to be here in the land of opportunity, even though the opportunity may not be quite there for the open taking. I am happy to build amongst my comrades and make this place for all of what it can be.

Goku was sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette and listening to a couple of people recounting how they came to America. He thought back to his own trip over the Atlantic. The trip itself was horrible, and lasted weeks. He couldn't remember ever being colder in his life. The there were all the rats. Everywhere. In the pisser, in your bed, in the kitchen. The little bastards spread like fire. With a shudder he put the sea voyage out of his mind and instead looked back on the actual reasons he came over.

I grew up in Florence, Italy, on a large plot of land owned by my grandfather. Oh that city, it was the most beautiful place in the world. Full of art and architecture. As a boy I would run through the streets, plucking fruit from vendor's tables and cackling madly as I sprinted away. I never wondered why none of the people in the market tried to stop me. When other kids stole they were beaten mercilessly. But not me, no, I was always given a good berth by the people of the city.

When I turned fifteen I finally learned why. Apparently my grandfather was a mob boss in the States in his day. He spent most of his life in this country, never really knowing the place he was born as I did. As my grandfather lie on his deathbed, clutching his chest where a bullet had pierced him ten years prior in Chicago, he looked up at me and smiled.

"You are not like your father, my child," He said to me.  "Your father is a timid man, a weak man, a man with no ambition, no desire to be great. I have seen you grow from a boy into a young man full of passion and vigor. I hope some day you will pick up my work where I left off." He then shoved an old battered diary into my hands and motioned for my grandmother to come help him eat.

His words confused and baffled me, I did not know what he meant by his work. I knew he had money, and lots of it, but I had never really pictured him making it. He just seemed to pop into my life, old and frail with pocketfulls of cash. The diary revealed all. He was born on the ship to America, and grew up in New York City. He was a hood from a young age, running around with the "wrong crowd" and stirring up trouble in Brooklyn. He earned himself a fortune, working his way up the ranks of the underworld of both New York, and then Chicago. I won't go into too much detail. But in 1928, right before the stock market crash, he was shot in the chest by an assailant from Detroit. He would never recover fully. He used his connections and cash to disappear. Everyone in America thought he had died. He really just came home. To me and my grandmother. He had never even met his own son, having shipped his pregnant wife off to Italy during one of the crime wars, fearful she would be harmed. He lived his last few years there, living easy, as an old man should. But America never truly left him. He always missed his true home.

On the back page of that Diary was a note to me.

Goku

Now we share more than just a name. You know everything of your old pappy. All the good and the bad. It could all be yours. There is a small account in a Chicago bank under your name. Not a whole lot, just some starter help. America is a wonderful place full of opportunity. And the women, my boy, oh the women. But be warned. There will be people who will try to drag you into "the life." Do not take it lightly. It is not an easy life, nor is it what I would like you to become. But if you do, know that people will always hold my deeds and misdeeds against you. Know that it may be a complete waste of time to go there. But also know that proving people wrong is the best feeling in the world, and is the thing that has kept me alive all these years.

Now here I am. In America and loving it. In the life and loving it. Trying to live up to his legacy is a tall order. But I wouldn't have lived my life so far in any other way.

Many life times ago, my bloodline was drawn to this world by a Chicago Godfather known as Sidious. Recently he had been authed into the Windy City and was looking for reliable friends to help stabilize his organization. The mob way of life was unknown to me when I received the call, but Sidious was a very old friend whom I couldn't so no too. I remember it fondly to this day, dropping my job at the packing plant and catching a train to Chicago where his RHM at the time picked me up. I want to say it was the bloodline of the lovely Kizzy, but I'm not 100% sure. Either way, I hadn't long settled into the Windy City, really just getting my feet wet in this thing of ours when Sidious did something to piss off then Godfather Premeir out of Los Angeles.

Shortly there after, once the blood had washed away from the streets, the next of my bloodline returned to this world. I was hooked, and I really haven't looked back since. On occasion I'll step away from a life of crime, go off and try to make a normal life for myself. It never really works out. When away, I miss the thrill of the hunt, the cash, and the friendships. The mob life is a drug I really enjoy to be honest with you all.