Embracing the statue of freedom

I will never forget the first time I saw her, standing there proud, the harbor waves slapping up against her with the backdrop of the New York City skyline in the background. It was the summer of 1960, our family's first visit to New York City and all of the majestic awe that was kindled in a young Midwestern boy's heart at the time.

For my parents, who had welcomed brothers, other family members and friends home from war, I could tell that it had special meaning. My mother purchased a souvenir plate and my dad took pictures of her from every angle of Liberty Island.

For me, the most exciting part was climbing the narrow, winding staircase to her crown for a breath-taking view of the skyline and harbor.

Sometime ago, I was going through a trunk of things my parents had saved and I came across the plate my mother had purchased that day, along with post cards and a small replica of the Statue of Liberty. Ironically, it had been neatly packed close to some letters written by a family member while he was stationed in Europe during World War II.

In it he referred to how good it would be to see my grandmother, mom and his family members when the war was over and he could return home. He said that such sights as grandma working in the garden, seasons in the Midwest and things he had taken for granted had now become the mental foundation which gave him the strength to go through the ravages of war in a strange land.

Those letters, I am sure, were duplicated hundreds of thousands of times by veterans who longed for home, were fortunate enough to be home from the war and had the opportunity to see "the lady" welcoming them as they arrived once again on American soil.

A librarian who had been listening to stories of veterans for a project recently said that she was completely taken off guard by the emotion involved in the stories that she had heard. The reflections were of veterans that were just as heart-stirring as when they were involved in the conflict.

"I wasn't prepared for the emotion involved and how I was going to be moved by them," she said. "Some of them still tear up, especially when they tell about how good it was to see their loved ones when they stepped on our shores. The stories of family reunions were all making me cry."

A friend told me of her father's experience in World War II. He had been severely injured and taken to a hospital in France to be treated for his wound. One of his most severe wounds had been on his face and had impaired his eyesight.

When his ship returned to the United States, a close Army buddy accompanied him to lead and assist as the boat docked on home soil.

"He told me that when they entered the harbor at New York, his buddy said to him, ‘there she is, there's the lady. We’re back home,’" said my friend. "My father said that even though he couldn't see her, just knowing she was there was the best ‘site’ he had ever seen."

Log In

Keep it Clean. Please avoid obscene, vulgar, lewd,racist or sexually-oriented language.PLEASE TURN OFF YOUR CAPS LOCK. Don't Threaten. Threats of harming anotherperson will not be tolerated.Be Truthful. Don't knowingly lie about anyoneor anything.Be Nice. No racism, sexism or any sort of -ismthat is degrading to another person.Be Proactive. Use the 'Report' link oneach comment to let us know of abusive posts.Share with Us. We'd love to hear eyewitnessaccounts, the history behind an article.