Where is Ellis Island
When We Need It?
A true story of a little 8 year old girl who arrived at Ellis Island
from Russia in 1930 - alone! Look back in time through the eyes
of someone who genuinely earned the title “American”...
A note from the editor: This story is dedicated
to the American spirit. It is the true story of an
eight-year-old Russian girl, who traveled across
the Atlantic on a large ship, alone. It is a true
story, which takes us back to Ellis Island in 1930,
and describes in detail, what was required of an
immigrant to become an American citizen. It is a
story of honor and respect. It is not intended to
offend anyone. On the contrary, its intention is
to honor all people equally. This story shares the
true feelings of a person who loves her country
and the people in it. But she mourns the loss of
common sense, basic decency, and the absence of
conscience in following our laws. She feels she
earned the right to call herself an American. Now,
77 years after arriving in America, she gives us a
rare opportunity to understand history through
the eyes of a person who helped create it. This is
not a political statement made by a news commentator or radio talk show host. It is not political at all. It is a story of real feelings and events,
shared by a real person, who, at 85 years of age,
has earned the right to be heard. This is the story
of immigrant: Luba Tcheresky.
“I have been in America since 1930 and have
enjoyed a very good life. I am very proud to be
in America as a naturalized citizen, thanks to
my dear mother. But, I have to admit; I am so
dismayed over the changes that have come about
in the past 77 years.”
40 Woman
The County
Magazine
“I came to America from Russia when I was eight
years old, alone, all by myself on a very large ship.
In about 1923, just after I was born, my mother
had an opportunity to go to America with the help
of her half-sister. She took my two older, halfsisters with her because she wanted a better life
for them. My grandmother told my mother she
couldn’t take me, because I was too young to go.
So, I remained in Russia with my beloved grandmother. I loved my life on the farm, and remember walking the ducks home at night. I think I
was born in 1922 or 1923. I am unsure, because I
don’t have a birth certificate.”
“My mother went to America and left me with
my grandmother, grandfather, cousins, and my
Uncle Vanya, who was my favorite relative. We
lived in White Russia, which was first Russia, and
then Poland. It is Russian again now. But it was
Poland at the time and I spoke only Polish.”
“I was so h appy there but did not, at the time,
have a memory of my mother or understand why
she was not there. They did not really talk to me
about it. I just remember being happy and having fun playing on the huge, farm/estate that my
grandfather managed. And, by the way, he was
related to Nicholas II, the last Czar of Russia.”
“I remember having a great childhood up until I
was five years old. I was transferred to a convent
in Warsaw for three years so that I could go to
school. At about 8, I was told I was being taken
out of the convent. I assumed I was to going back
to my grandmother’s, to the only home I had
ever known. But when I got home, they quickly
took me to the port, where suddenly, there was
a tag being put on my dress. Whoever took me
there said that my mother wanted me in America.
There was no discussion. I was going to my
mother. I was going to America. I didn’t know my
mother. I was very happy with my family in Russia. I remember screaming and screaming with
tears rolling down my face, ‘I don’t want to go to