Journey on The Ship of The White Hand

In 1927, my father crossed the waters from Italy to New York. Times were uncertain and my grandparents wanted him to be safe. Fortunately, the fates arranged it that he had been born in New York so his citizenship was assured. It was a ten-day journey and it took my father a little time to get his sea legs but he finally did. I can only imagine the courage it took him to leave his parents at only seventeen years of age to build a life here but he did it.
I am the last of the five sons he and my mother brought into this world and saw his greatness late in life but this story is always special to me because it represents the very beginning of his American journey and more so, because I had the honor of him reading it when he was still here and he looked at me and told me that what I wrote was exactly how it happened. Enjoy this short creative non-fiction piece about my father's journey across the sea to find home.---JP