QUINN:

I just, are you going to ask questions?

CLOUTIER:

Yep.

QUINN:

Okay.

CLOUTIER:

This is December 8, 1983. This is Dennis Cloutier with the Ellis Island Oral History Program [sic]. And today we're speaking with an immigrant who came through Ellis Island. Your name, please?

QUINN:

Anne Quinn, nee Reilly.

CLOUTIER:

Nee?

QUINN:

Reilly.

CLOUTIER:

Reilly. And, Anne, when were you born?

QUINN:

August 31, 1918.

CLOUTIER:

And where were you born?

QUINN:

In Paisley, Scotland.

CLOUTIER:

And when did you immigrate to America?

QUINN:

April of 1928. The exact date I'm not sure of, but we arrived here, it would be Easter Sunday, by the time the boat docked, because there had been, a tidal wave had hit the ship on our way over, so we were a day delayed because of that. So we were allowed off the ship to greet a brother and a sister and a cousin who had come to meet us, and then . . . You want the TV off?

CLOUTIER:

Yes, please.

QUINN:

And then we were transported over to Ellis Island by ferry.

CLOUTIER:

Okay, first of all, about the trip. Do you remember much about it?

QUINN:

Yes.

CLOUTIER:

Was it a rough trip?

QUINN:

Uh, I think it was rough. The first couple of days out it was all right, but after that I don't remember too much because my mother, my youngest brother and I were all seasick, and my father didn't miss a meal. And he was the reason that we weren't allowed to land, because he had suffered a stroke due to injuries he had received in the first World War. And he had lost the power of speech, and just one arm was paralyzed. He could walk, and he could hear. He could understand everything that was going on. But they were afraid he would become a burden to the state. And that's why we were held. But fortunately the doctor found him fit and well the next day, and we were released then into the custody of my brother, my eldest brother, who had come to this country six years previously. And we were on our way.

CLOUTIER:

Now, how many people were you traveling with?

QUINN:

My, uh, mother, father and brother. It was four of us. We were the last four to come to this country.

CLOUTIER:

I see. And you were how old?

QUINN:

I was nine.

CLOUTIER:

Nine years old.

QUINN:

Yes.

CLOUTIER:

Do you remember much about your accommodations on the boat?

QUINN:

Yes, we were in a cabin, four bunks. And, as I say, most of my time, you know, after the first two days out were spent in the bunk until the night that the tidal wave hit. I don't know if I mentioned, but the name of the ship was the Leviathan.

CLOUTIER:

From where?

QUINN:

And that . . .

CLOUTIER:

From what port?

QUINN:

Well, it came out of Southampton. And that was an American liner, and previous to that, during the first World War, it had been a German ship, Der Votterland, and it was impounded by the United States. And after the war, during the first World War it was used as a troop ship. After the first World War it was used as a liner by the United States, a passenger ship. The trip that we made was the last trip that it made as a passenger ship. Afterwards, during the second World War, it was towed back to Britain as part of the lend/lease program, for scrap. So I thought that was quite interesting. But they had to move us to new quarters on board ship that night, because water just inundated our cabin. They had to take our mattresses and just toss them out the portholes.

CLOUTIER:

Were you frightened by this tidal wave? Was it frightening?

QUINN:

I imagine I was. I really, it was afterwards when I saw all the water in the cabin, that I realized what could have happened to us, and the stewards and all the personnel were walking around with their pants legs rolled up, and sloshing through the water. So it was kind of frightening. And, uh, when we got to Ellis Island, I don't remember too much about the ferry trip. I think it was kind of a letdown, because I expected to see the rest of my brothers and sisters, and we had an aunt that had come, and cousins, and it really wasn't until the next day, it was really anti-climatic then when we did land in the town of Harrison the next day.

CLOUTIER:

What was the first thing you saw in America? Was it the Statue?

QUINN:

I don't, no. Because we were, uh, in this great big, oh, salon, I would assume it would be called, for physicals, so that we really didn't get a chance to see the Statue that, uh . . .

CLOUTIER:

This is on the boat now.

QUINN:

Yes, on board ship. Really the first thing I remember about landing is the dock. I don't even know the name or the number of pier it was or anything, but then the next thing I remember just going into this great, huge building.

CLOUTIER:

On Ellis.

QUINN:

On Ellis Island, yes. And, of course, everything is relative, you know. And I was only a little girl, and to me it was a very huge building. And all the walls, the bottom part of the walls were all white tiling. And that struck me as soon as I went into it this year, the white tiles. As soon as I saw them I said, "I remember those." And the different rooms that we went into, I was telling my husband and the children that were with us. "Now, this is where we did this, and this is where we did that." And as we came downstairs again to the dining area, I said, "Now, this is a very big room, and we'll go down there." Of course, then it wasn't a very big room because they had different walls up, and the young man that was the guide. And I was disappointed, you know, and I said, "Oh," I said, "well, I guess to me it seemed bigger at the time." But the young man that was the guide said, "This originally was a very large room." But he said they had these partitions up now, so I felt vindicated. ( they laugh )

CLOUTIER:

So you did eat on Ellis Island.

QUINN:

Yes.

KAPLAN:

Let me just cut back into something.

CLOUTIER:

Sure.

KAPLAN:

You said you were going through a physical on the boat?

QUINN:

Yes.

KAPLAN:

Was this, what was that?

QUINN:

It was just a cursory.

CLOUTIER:

Right. It sounds to me like you were . . .

QUINN:

You know, it wasn't extensive.

CLOUTIER:

You were traveling first or second class, it sounds like to me.

QUINN:

Second, yes.

CLOUTIER:

Second class.

QUINN:

Yes.

CLOUTIER:

Any idea how much your fare cost?

QUINN:

No. I really don't remember. In fact, I asked my older sister, you know, and she said she really would have no idea. She had forgotten, you know.

CLOUTIER:

Now, did the entire ship come to Ellis Island or just your family?

QUINN:

No, just our family and whatever other immigrants were being held over, you know.

KAPLAN:

That must have been a pre-screening on the ship.

CLOUTIER:

The first and second class would only come over to Ellis if they had a special problem. They'd get a brief inspection on the boat and then go on to Manhattan with no problems.

QUINN:

Uh-huh. But they held us overnight. We slept there.

KAPLAN:

Because your father had a heart attack on the boat?

QUINN:

No, no, no, no. He . . .

CLOUTIER:

Years before.

KAPLAN:

Oh, some years ago.

QUINN:

A stroke, he had suffered a stroke.

KAPLAN:

A stroke, years before.

QUINN:

Yes. In 1922 that happened. In fact, we even had some difficulty, the first time we went for our physicals, my mother and my brother and I passed, but my father didn't. This was going to the American consulate for physicals. Because of his, uh . . .

CLOUTIER:

Condition?

QUINN:

Condition. And my mother had an uncle who lived in Kansas, Kansas City. And she wrote to him, and told him. In fact, she was, she said to him in the letter that she was going to tell the other members of the family just to save up their money and pay their passage back to Scotland. Well, he was very annoyed, because he said she should have sent her family to him in the first place instead of coming to New Jersey. But she was an independent person, my mother, and she wanted to, if we made it, she wanted us to make it on our own. And, anyway, he said he would do what he could in this country, so he pulled a few political strings in Washington, and it was really through his good graces that we finally did come here.

CLOUTIER:

What made you want to come to America?

QUINN:

Well, of course, it was the same in Britain as it was here, but my mother seemed to think there were more opportunities in this country at the time. There was a Depression on, and my elder brother could not get work. He had had work, and then was let go. And she always thought of America as the land of opportunity. She had wanted to come here as a young woman, a younger woman. She was fifty when we came here. And it was her dream always really to come to the United States. So, eventually, we did. In fact, at one point, I think it was the morning we were getting dressed to come off the ship. She said, "When we get home . . ." Well, terror struck in my heart. I could just see us turning around and going back on a great, big ship. And I said, "We have to go back again?" And she says, "Oh, no, no." She said, "I mean America." She said, "That's our home." So that kind of stuck with me, you know, all these years. But, uh . . .

CLOUTIER:

What type of work did your father do?

QUINN:

My father had been a clerk in the mine, coal mine. And he cheated ten years, to join the army in the first World War, made himself ten years younger than what he was. ( she laughs ) He's a feisty little Irishman. And, uh, that was it. But, uh, I can remember the, this large room where the dormitories are, up above. And, yes.

CLOUTIER:

Did it look anything like that?

QUINN:

Yes, yes. Cause I can remember all these benches, and the balcony, really, up here, and the women and men, boys and girls, were separated. Boys went with men, and girls went with the women. And they were taking my brother, you know, to go with my father, and my mother absolutely refused. He was only seven, and he had been very ill, and . . .

CLOUTIER:

On the ship?

QUINN:

Yes. And she said, "Where I go, he goes." She said, "If I have to sit here all night with him," she said, "he stays with me." So she got her way. He was allowed to come up into the women's quarters with us. And we were down this part, because when we were there in August we were almost directly under the room that we stayed in. I can remember that. It was away towards the end of the, this railing here, you know. And . . .

CLOUTIER:

How were the conditions in the dormitories?

QUINN:

Clean, extremely clean. I can remember that, because my mother was fanatic about cleanliness, and she would not have laid her head down on anything that wasn't clean. And even the bathrooms were very, very clean. That I can remember. And although breakfast the next morning left my mother . . . ( she laughs ) She just didn't care for it. It was an oatmeal of some kind, and she tasted hers and, no, she wouldn't have it. But she, they had tea or coffee. She had tea, of course. She drank her tea. And I can always remember there was a Turkish man sat across from us. And the only reason I remember he was a Turk was, because he wore a fez. And he had a round, sallow-complected face, brown eyes, and he wore glasses. He was a big man. And he, when he realized that we weren't eating the oatmeal he, in stilted English, said, "No eat?" And my mother said, "No." So, "Me eat, me eat." So my mother said, "You want this?" And he said, he nodded his head yes, so my mother passed all the bowls over to him, and he ate everything. ( they laugh ) I guess the poor man was starving.

CLOUTIER:

Here's a photograph of the dining hall.

QUINN:

Yes, yes.

CLOUTIER:

Does that look familiar?

QUINN:

Yes, it does. I was just saying, we had cousins here, nieces, last night, for dinner, and it was almost like picnic tables and benches. There were very long tables and the long benches. And this is how your meals were served to you.

CLOUTIER:

Were the conditions crowded?

QUINN:

Yes, yes.

CLOUTIER:

In the dormitory and the . . .

QUINN:

Yes, yes, because all the beds were used.

CLOUTIER:

Pretty tight.

QUINN:

Yes, uh-huh.

CLOUTIER:

How did everyone get along? Was there any fighting, or . . .

QUINN:

As far as I know, everything was smooth. But I don't remember any fighting or squabbling at all amongst, amongst a bunch of women especially. ( she laughs ) No, everything seemed to go very smoothly.

CLOUTIER:

We have stories of some people being so crowded up in the dormitories would actually go down to the floor of the Great Hall and sleep on the benches.

QUINN:

No, that wasn't, well, you know, we didn't come really in the, well, I guess it was the early 1900's, but, no, it wasn't a great crowding in the dormitories, at least in the room that we were assigned. There weren't a great overflowing of people. Everyone had a bed of their own, so for which I guess we were extremely fortunate that we didn't have to share with anyone. Although I think my mother had my brother in the bed with her, because he was young and not well at the time, although the next morning he was like his old self again, he was the devil again. But, then we had to wait until my father was examined. In the meantime, my mother was questioned and all.

CLOUTIER:

What type of questions?

QUINN:

Uh, was there anything really mentally wrong with my father? Of course, there wasn't. And would her family support her, and she said, "Yes." And who was claiming her? And she said, well, really her eldest son. And asked if he were married, and she said, kind of raised her voice at that point and she said she didn't know why she did it, and she said, "To my knowledge, my son Peter is not married."

CLOUTIER:

Now he was in America then?

QUINN:

Yes, and he had been married the January previous. ( she laughs ) In fact, we had had a party at home to celebrate the marriage. But, we didn't know it, but my brother Peter and another brother were in the room next to us, and they heard my mother say this. So when they were brought in to be questioned then, they said to the eldest, Peter, are you married, Mr. Reilly? And he said, "No, I'm not." So, a big fib . . .

CLOUTIER:

. . . to keep the story straight. ( they laugh )

QUINN:

Yes.

KAPLAN:

Careful what you say. They might deport you.

CLOUTIER:

They might send you back.

QUINN:

Not now. I'm an American citizen. ( they laugh )

KAPLAN:

Yeah, but you know us Americans. We can be awful. ( they laugh )

CLOUTIER:

I have another picture here of the Great Hall. This was in the earlier years. Do you remember anything like that on the floor?

QUINN:

No, no, I don't.

CLOUTIER:

Or anywhere in the building?

QUINN:

No. I don't remember these pipes sectioning off anything, at all like that.

CLOUTIER:

No railing?

QUINN:

No, uh-uh. No, I don't.

CLOUTIER:

I believe 1911 they took these out.

QUINN:

Yeah. To me everything had, all these large rooms that we were in had a sense of spaciousness and airy, you know. They were all airy. As I really look back on it, everything was clean, which now that I think of it, for processing a great many people, there must have been a great many people that did a lot of hard work, you know, to keep it as clean as it was. There was no debris around or, you know, candy wrappers or anything like that, or a lot of cigarette butts.

KAPLAN:

Not like today.

QUINN:

No, no. No way. Yeah. But . . .

CLOUTIER:

So you were quite impressed by the buildings there?

QUINN:

Yes, I was. Yeah.

CLOUTIER:

Had you ever seen anything so large before?

QUINN:

No, no, of course not. No.

CLOUTIER:

You came from a fairly small village?

QUINN:

No, it was a town.

CLOUTIER:

What was the name of the town?

QUINN:

It was a large town. Paisley.

CLOUTIER:

Paisley.

QUINN:

Yes. They're famous for their mills.

CLOUTIER:

Of course.

QUINN:

Clarks and Coats mills.

CLOUTIER:

Paisley prints.

QUINN:

No.

CLOUTIER:

No?

QUINN:

That's Indian.

CLOUTIER:

Oh.

QUINN:

The thread mills.

MR. QUINN:

By the way, Kearney was the target of a lot of Scottish migrants at that time, because there were mills in Kearney that were actually part of the mills in Scotland, Paisley. The Coat and Clark Mill at that time were huge in this area. It was a tremendous complex. And they stayed in this area. They started phasing out in the 1930's, and they weren't moved to the South until the 1950's. But the Coats and Clark mills were great, and there were several other plants in Kearney that had their parent company in Paisley.

QUINN:

In fact, uh . . .

MR. QUINN:

Kearney at one time was known as "Little Paisley," because of the amount of Scotch migrants that came here.

QUINN:

In fact, one of my brothers and a sister worked in mills, but my sister didn't like it and she left. But my brother stayed there, the one, my older brother stayed there until they closed, and then he went to work for the Ford Motor Company after that. But my next older brother and older sister, they, my mother didn't want them working in the mill, and she wrote and told them, "Look for other type of work." So they both each got a job in Prudential Insurance. And my brother worked there until he died there, thirteen years ago. He worked for the Prudential. And at that time, when my sister was married, married women had to quit. The Prudential did not allow married women to work for them. Of course, all that changed after the second World War. But, uh, I don't know what else.

CLOUTIER:

You moved to Kearney right from Ellis Island, then?

QUINN:

No, no, no. We moved to the town of Harrison, which is just south of here. And we lived there, oh, perhaps a year-and-a-half, two years, and then moved to Kearney.

CLOUTIER:

From Ellis to the mainland of New York, how did you get there? Do you remember the . . .

QUINN:

By ferry. In fact, we caught the last ferry that afternoon. We just made it. I can remember running up the gangplank, and literally throwing ourselves on a bench on the ferry.

CLOUTIER:

Did it look anything like that?

QUINN:

Yes, yes.

CLOUTIER:

A little bit newer than that?

QUINN:

Yes, very much so, though. Yeah. And we, of course, got that from Manhattan, and . . .

CLOUTIER:

You landed on the Battery.

QUINN:

Yeah. And got it to Manhattan, rather. And then we took a train into Harrison.

CLOUTIER:

Had you ever been on a train before?

QUINN:

Oh, yes.

CLOUTIER:

Okay.

QUINN:

Yes, uh-huh.

CLOUTIER:

What was your first impression of New York?

QUINN:

Well, really, we didn't see all that much of New York at that particular time. I was really more interested in my family than I was on what was going around, on around me, you know. And it wasn't until, oh, I guess a few weeks later that I started to realize that I had to adjust to really another way of life. We were only in this country a week, and my mother took us down and registered us for school. ( she laughs ) We had to go to school just almost immediately. And . . .

CLOUTIER:

Could you speak English?

QUINN:

Oh, yes, with an accent.

CLOUTIER:

Did your mother speak English, or your father?

QUINN:

Yes, we all spoke English.

CLOUTIER:

Oh, oh, yeah, of course, yeah. ( they laugh )

KAPLAN:

I was wondering why you were saying that.

CLOUTIER:

I'm used to thinking you're talking to the Italian, or the Turkish immigrants.

MR. QUINN:

If you were in parts of Kearney listening to some of the broad Scotch around here, you'd . . .

CLOUTIER:

Right.

QUINN:

In fact, my mother never really lost her accent. Her accent seemed to become more pronounced the older she became. And I had one brother, my older brother, Jim really could not understand him at all, and he married a Scottish woman, and she had come from a different part of Scotland than we did, and she spoke in, and still does, in, very fast. So my brother, you know, he got into this way of speaking also. And he was very broad Scottish. And Jim really had a hard time understanding him. But, of course, I didn't, and my kids love it when I put on a Scottish accent. ( they laugh )

CLOUTIER:

Let's hear it.

QUINN:

Oh, gosh. I shouldn't have said that. Uh, I really don't know what to say. Uh . . .

CLOUTIER:

Oh, your mother's maiden name.

QUINN:

Cedercorner. [ph] I'll say a little poem. ( she says a few words in a heavy Scottish accent ) It almost sounds German, the necht [ph] part. But when I'm imitating someone from the other side, I put it on. And they like that. They get a kick out of that.

CLOUTIER:

Let me ask you something about the voyage once again, the ship. Were you traveling, were there steerage compartments down below, where people were?

QUINN:

Not that I remember, no. I really, I don't think so. I think really by that time steerage was more or less out.

CLOUTIER:

Outlawed.

QUINN:

Yes. Because there had been so many, you know, traveling conditions in steerage were just, from what I read now, were just dreadful. But I think that by the time we came it was like first, second and third class, you know, and that was it. But I remember the first couple of days when I was still on my feet that we were served afternoon tea and oh, I thought this was the greatest thing. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I was up on the deck in a deck chair, and the steward would come around with tea and cookies or Danish, whatever, excuse me, and I thought that was wonderful. And, but going to meals, I cannot remember going to a meal in the dining room, which is strange, because I, we must have, as I say, my father did not miss a meal. He was, he was the one that was, you know, supposed to be not a well man. But, uh, he didn't miss a meal, or a drink, as long as it was going around. ( she laughs )

CLOUTIER:

It sounds like a good journey that you had.

QUINN:

Except for the tidal wave, yes.

CLOUTIER:

Right.

QUINN:

Yeah. So, and, of course, that upset the family here, cause the New York Daily News , you know, big headlines "Tidal Wave Hits Leviathan." And everybody here was almost in hysterics, what had happened. So, but there was no loss of life.

KAPLAN:

How far down in the ship were you? If the water had come into your cabin, I mean, did it come in through the windows?

QUINN:

Yes, through the portholes.

KAPLAN:

Through the portholes.

QUINN:

Yeah. How far down we were, I really couldn't tell you. I don't remember that at all. But most of the hand luggage that we had, we lost it. My mother had gifts, you know, for, uh, our daughters, uh, her daughters, rather, her other daughters and our, her daughter-in-law. And she lost all those. And she really wasn't quite sure of the money. And the form came in from the shipping line to fill out for what she had lost. Came in, when there was no one home. The older members of the family that were used to the change in the money. And she filled out a form for fifty dollars, I think. Uh, fifty dollars wasn't bad in 1928, but she lost a lot more than fifty dollars, really. Because some of the gifts she had would have cost fifty dollars alone. There was a little anecdote to this. It was Prohibition, of course, in the United States at that time, and this cousin that met us, he was really my mother's cousin's husband, and she had written to my mother, "Would she please do Johnny, her husband, a favor? Bring him a bottle of Scotch." So my mother said of course she'd bring him a bottle of Scotch. My mother didn't approve of drinking, but my father liked to drink, and this cousin's husband did also. So she was so afraid that if the bottle of Scotch was found when the baggage was examined, that she would lose it, which she would have. So there was one little steward that, he was from the same town we came from, but my mother didn't know him, but became friendly with him simply because he came from the same town we did. So she gave him five pounds. Now, five pounds in 1928 was the equivalent of twenty-five dollars which, to an individual, was a lot of money at that time. To bring the bottle of Scotch to her . . . END OF SIDE ONE, TAPE ONE BEGINNING OF SIDE TWO, TAPE ONE

QUINN:

I thought my cousin's husband was going to have hysterics right on the dock. He couldn't have cared less if we were there or drowned, whatever. ( they laugh ) He didn't get his bottle of Scotch, and that was all he was concerned about. ( they laugh ) He had to drink whatever he could get his hands on then. ( they laugh )

CLOUTIER:

Oh, well.

QUINN:

And even my father could have shared it, and he was rather disgruntled. ( they laugh )

CLOUTIER:

You're still looking for that steward.

QUINN:

Well, I'm sure he's long gone now. ( she laughs )

CLOUTIER:

What kind of, what type of other luggage did you bring with you? Any heirlooms?

QUINN:

Well, there was a steamer trunk. Yes, an heirloom. It was an heirloom up to, there was a chair that a member of my mother's family in years past had used. She was a crippled girl, it seems. And some relative had made this chair for her. And there wasn't a nail or a screw. It was all . . .

KAPLAN:

Pegs.

QUINN:

Pegged. And through wear, it had come down. It just rests on the rungs of the chair now. The legs had worn down, you know, through the years. And the seat was giving way, you know. It was becoming, we had to put a cushion on it all the time to sit down. Otherwise you got splinters. So my mother was dying to have this chair, the bottom, fixed, the seat of it fixed. So this one young man, he was a friend of my older brothers and sisters, and he said, oh, he would take care of it. You know, he, he came and took the chair away. And when he come back, I thought my mother was going to kill him. Great, big screws in the seat. He had replaced it just with boards and painted them over or varnished them over, and ruined the antiquity of it. She would really have been, if she had thought it through, she would have been far better bringing that chair here and taking it to an antique shop and having it repaired. But she didn't know. She took this young man, she figured, you know, he would see that it was pegs and he would do likewise. Of course he didn't. So that chair is still upstairs.

CLOUTIER:

Did you lose any luggage along the way as far as being stolen?

QUINN:

No, no. No, nothing like that.

CLOUTIER:

Except for your Scotch.

QUINN:

Except the bottle of Scotch. ( she laughs ) And to me, I couldn't have cared less.

CLOUTIER:

And did you get your money exchanged on Ellis Island?

QUINN:

No, my mother didn't do that. She just waited. In fact, I think perhaps she could even have given the money that she had on her person to either my brother or sister that met the boat the day before. I don't recall that. But she was a careful person, and I think probably that's what she did. She wouldn't want a lot of money on her going, you know, amongst a group of people, strangers, you know, that she didn't know and had nothing in common with. That sounds rather snobbish, and I don't mean it to sound like that, you know. But you can't be too careful.

CLOUTIER:

That's right.

QUINN:

Even then.

CLOUTIER:

Did you have any papers, exit papers, with you? Documents?

QUINN:

Yes. We had a lot of documents but, uh, after my mother died I got rid of all of them because I figured, you know, they were of no use. And now I'm sorry I did, because of this now. They would have been a great help. And, in fact, just recently we came across a lot of those papers, right.

KAPLAN:

The baptismal records.

QUINN:

Yeah. But even before that, we came across letters and that from Uncle George.

KAPLAN:

I don't recall them.

QUINN:

Yeah, I think several years ago I came across them. And this was the correspondence between he and my mother, his correspondence to my mother about getting us, you know, out to this country from Scotland, which would have been invaluable.

CLOUTIER:

Sure.

QUINN:

Because it gave the names of his senator at that time and whatever the other political bigwig in Washington helped. I don't remember the name of the man at all. But he was a judge in Kansas City and that's why, you know, he had a little political knowledge. And he had wanted to bring my mother to this country when she was sixteen, because he lived there, you know, as far back as that. And he had brought his own mother to this country, but she wanted to go back to Scotland. And, in fact, this chair that I spoke of before, she tried to bring it to this country with her, but for some reason she wasn't allowed. I don't know why. So when my mother got a packing case, she put quilts and blankets on the bottom of the case, put the chair in, and padded that all around with household goods and other blankets and quilts, and that's how she transported that chair. But my uncle was getting ready to bring my grandmother back to Scotland, but she died before he had a chance, so she's buried someplace in Illinois, well, Kansas. He always said, "On the banks of the Kankakee," which evidently runs through Kansas, so. But . . .

CLOUTIER:

Did you notice any anticipation on your parents' part?

QUINN:

My mother was extremely excited. My father couldn't have cared less.

CLOUTIER:

On Ellis, I'm talking about.

QUINN:

Oh, on Ellis Island.

CLOUTIER:

Where were you talking about?

QUINN:

I was talking about before we came here, to this country.

CLOUTIER:

Oh. Well, go ahead with that.

QUINN:

But, well, all her other children were here, except for my youngest brother.

CLOUTIER:

How many?

QUINN:

Well, I had two sisters here and three brothers.

CLOUTIER:

And they were all well-established?

QUINN:

Yes. They all had jobs, were working, and they had taken an apartment for us and had it furnished. And she had a sister that had come out here with her family, so she and her sister, that particular sister, were very close. And she was anxious, you know.

CLOUTIER:

Especially on Ellis.

QUINN:

To start her new life.

CLOUTIER:

Especially on Ellis, you realize you could have been sent back because of your father's condition.

QUINN:

Oh, yes, yes.

CLOUTIER:

You stayed here two days, now? Two?

QUINN:

No, just overnight.

CLOUTIER:

Just overnight.

QUINN:

Yeah.

CLOUTIER:

One night, two days.

QUINN:

Yeah. But . . .

CLOUTIER:

Of course, you didn't know.

QUINN:

My mother was very, you know, sorrowful about that. I really don't know how she would have taken it. But she had her dream come true. She got to America.

CLOUTIER:

So was your father over in the hospital section, and could you see him at all?

QUINN:

No, we didn't see him that morning once, you know, they took the people away for physicals. We didn't see him at all until the doctor brought him back to this room where we were, where my mother was being questioned. And, uh, when the doctor finally brought him back he said, "I can find absolutely nothing wrong with this man except for the fact that he can't talk." He said, "He's in better health than I am." Pass him. So, you could hear the big sigh of relief from my mother. ( she laughs ) She was so happy. But my father was very jaunty about the whole thing, you know.

CLOUTIER:

Could he ever talk again?

QUINN:

No. He never did speak again, no. But everybody, you know, we all understood him, and he understood us. He was a great card player. I never learned to play bridge, for the simple reason, Sunday afternoon, especially in the wintertime, the whole family sat around the dining room table, played bridge, and screaming mad at my father because he beat them all every time. So I thought, "No way am I going to learn that card game." So, uh . . .

CLOUTIER:

Did you have to get a medical examination at all?

QUINN:

Oh, yes. Before we came to this country we had to go to the American consulate and went through a physical examination.

CLOUTIER:

But nothing on Ellis.

QUINN:

No, no. Not really. Just on board ship, as I say, was the cursory exam, you know, nothing.

CLOUTIER:

They checked your eyes to see if . . .

QUINN:

Yes, yes. Eyes, ears, the throat. They tested your heart, your lungs, you know.

KAPLAN:

Did they do a blood test at all on you?

QUINN:

Not that I recall.

KAPLAN:

Or urinalysis?

QUINN:

No, no. Not, that I do not recall. They could have done that the first examination we had while we were still in Scotland, but I don't remember.

CLOUTIER:

No buttonhooks looking for trichoma.

QUINN:

No, no. ( she laughs ) In fact, I didn't have anything. By that time buttonhooks were out, as far as I was concerned. It was laces.

KAPLAN:

What about your, when you were out on Ellis, your first view, you said, then, you didn't see the Statue when you came out on the boat. But you saw it when you were out on Ellis?

QUINN:

I imagine we must have, but I really don't recall it, no. I do not. Uh, I'd really be telling a fib if I say yes I recall seeing it. I must have. I mean, my brothers and my sister must have pointed it out to us, you know. But I really don't recall. In fact, one of our sons asked me just recently, "What did you feel when you saw the Statue of Liberty?" I said, "I really don't ever recall seeing it when we came here," and I don't. So . . .

CLOUTIER:

How were the inspectors? Were they courteous, or were they rude, or just tired?

QUINN:

No, no. As far as I can recall, they were courteous to us. And, because if they weren't, my mother would have told them off. I mean, she wasn't behind the door when it came to giving someone a tongue-lashing that she thought deserved it. But, no, as far as I can recall, we had no problems, even with our luggage being inspected. It was a, you know, they just opened the bags really and looked. They didn't go through everything, and just, and closed them, you know, and marked them off, and that was it. Excuse me. But we had no problems there.

CLOUTIER:

Did the inspectors have uniforms like that at all?

QUINN:

Yes. In fact, the people who questioned us, questioned my mother, they were sitting like, at, what you would call really a judge's bench, and they wore a khaki uniform. Evidently the Immigration Service at that time did wear.

CLOUTIER:

They were khaki.

QUINN:

Yes, yeah.

CLOUTIER:

I heard they were dark blue.

QUINN:

No.

CLOUTIER:

That's interesting.

QUINN:

Not to me they weren't. They were brown, which to me was khaki, you know. This looked like it was taken in the 1920's. I'm going by the dress, the mode of dress.

CLOUTIER:

The fashion.

QUINN:

Yeah.

CLOUTIER:

Do you see yourself?

QUINN:

No. I was smaller than this girl here. In fact, I was quite tiny. ( she laughs )

KAPLAN:

Still are.

CLOUTIER:

So you had an apartment waiting for you in the U.S.?

QUINN:

Yes, uh-huh.

CLOUTIER:

And you moved right in. In Harrison, you say?

QUINN:

Yes, Harrison, yes. It's just south of here.

CLOUTIER:

And you went to school.

QUINN:

I went to school, and my brother was quite funny. He, would you mind if I got a cigarette? ( break in tape ) He was only seven.

CLOUTIER:

Your brother.

QUINN:

My brother, my brother, Frank. And, uh, of course, the style in Britain at that time, the boys wore knickers and long socks, knee socks. And once we got to America he wanted pants, you know, stretch that word out, "pants." Just like the American boys. So there was a men's and boy's shop down the street from us. If we stood in our dining room window, we could see the shop on the main street, and on, my mother had said to him, "All right. Saturday morning we'll go to the store, to the shop." She didn't call it store, shop. "And get your pants." He wanted to be so Americanized right from the minute that we got into Harrison, it was unbelievable. And Saturday morning, early, he and I were the only two up because everybody else was sleeping. You know, they went to work during the week, and they got a chance to sleep late Saturday mornings. So he was standing at the dining room window, and he saw the owner open the door and go in. Well, he rushed into my mother's room and starts shaking her. "Mr. Gas just went into the store! Mr. Gas just went into his store! Get up, and we'll go get my pants." ( they laugh ) All right, all right. The poor soul had to get up and have her breakfast and get dressed, and off they went to get his pants. And it was dungaree-style. What do they call them?

KAPLAN:

Overall?

QUINN:

The overall type, yeah, in denims. And, oh, he was just in seventh heaven. He finally got his pants. So of course she had to get him dress pants also for going to school, and a suit. But he was just as happy as Patty Cane.

CLOUTIER:

As what? Patty Cane?

QUINN:

Patty Cane. That's an Irish saying.

CLOUTIER:

Yeah. What's it mean? I know what it means, but where did it come from?

QUINN:

Oh, I don't know. That was an expression.

KAPLAN:

That came out of the Dark Ages.

QUINN:

Yeah, an expression that my mother used.

CLOUTIER:

So your folks were pretty happy here?

QUINN:

Yes, yes.

CLOUTIER:

No regrets.

QUINN:

No. Oh, no. My mother never, ever regretted coming to the United States, never. Of course, I, you know, was only a child and as far as I know fitted right in after people stopped teasing with my accent. I pretty soon lost that.

KAPLAN:

They teased you in the beginning, though.

QUINN:

Beg pardon?

KAPLAN:

They teased you in the beginning.

QUINN:

Oh, yes, oh, yes. Yeah.

KAPLAN:

Little kids are kids.

QUINN:

Oh, sure. Kids are cruel.

CLOUTIER:

Were there a lot of Scottish people around?

QUINN:

Uh, not too much in that town in Harrison. There were a few, but mostly they were in Kearney, in this town, where we are now. And that was because of the mill situation that we were talking about before, and . . .

CLOUTIER:

Which was a lot of Scottish, uh . . .

QUINN:

Yes.

CLOUTIER:

Factories were moving over here.

QUINN:

Yes. And there were a lot of Irish in this town also, Irish immigrants. And, of course, in Scotland, because of our name, we were considered Irish. And that was one, another reason it was difficult for members of, the older members of my family to get jobs because, you know, there would be signs up "No Irish Need Apply." And, oh, yeah, yeah. And we were Catholic, Roman Catholic, which was another plot against us in Scotland, because Scotland is a very Protestant country. They are more narrow and biased than England. England is the much more broader minded country.

KAPLAN:

Only in England, not in the colonies.

QUINN:

But, uh . . .

KAPLAN:

What did you find is, and your parents, I'm sure you discussed it around the house, any of the great differences between the homeland and your new homeland? Did you feel anything, you know, like electricity, or . . .

QUINN:

Yes. Because we didn't have electricity when we left Scotland, and here we had electricity, and that was fabulous. You know, you flick a switch and the light comes on. You know, we just loved that.

KAPLAN:

What about streetlights and stuff like that, and cars.

QUINN:

Yes. Because the streetlights we had in Scotland were still gas lamps, you know. Cars, unbelievable. I . . .

KAPLAN:

When you say unbelievable, what do you mean?

QUINN:

There were so many cars here compared to the town that we came from. I remember we had neighbors, and the husband had come to this country, and it took him a very, very long time to get his wife to finally consent to come here. In fact, we were here quite a few years before she finally came with their children. And he came back periodically, of course, for visits. And he was standing in our front room one time looking out the window, and one small van-type passed going up the street, and he said to my mother, he said, "Mrs. Reilly," he said, "in America it's, you wouldn't believe the amount of automobiles that you see on the street." And my mother said to the family later, "He was bragging just like a Yank, bragging just like a Yank." ( they laugh ) And he really wasn't bragging. He was just stating a fact. Of course, my mother realized that once she came here. She said, "Well," she said, "Jim was right, what he said about the automobiles." But our eldest brother had a car and, oh, we just thought that we great. He had a Dodge. I guess they would call it a touring car, you know. And that was wonderful as far as we were concerned. My father wasn't a great one for riding in cars. He liked to walk. In fact, one day he was gone so long my mother thought surely something tragic had happened to him, and he finally came strolling in. It was about dinner time. And through questioning from my brothers and that, they finally determined that he had walked up to what we call the South Mountain Reservation in South Orange, which is a walk, how many miles?

KAPLAN:

Eight, nine.

QUINN:

Yeah. And, but he mostly walked wherever he went, or took the trolleycars. There were still trolleycars at that time, no buses. And my mother and her sister, they used to, once we moved into Kearney, they used to walk all over the place, and walk up through this area. At that time this area was all farmland. And whenever my mother saw a sign outside a house that said apartments are let, "Let's go in and see this." And, sure enough, she'd come home and say, "We're moving." I always said to her, "You know," I said, "once you got to this country, "I said," the gypsy never left your soul." ( they laugh )

CLOUTIER:

Were there any food items that you'd never seen before when you came to America, that you first noticed?

QUINN:

Turkey. I don't ever recall having turkey in Scotland, and fresh ham. That was one dish that my, we all enjoyed that. She used to put stuffing in that, and that was great.

KAPLAN:

And stuffing in ham?

QUINN:

A fresh ham, not a smoked ham. The butcher would cut a certain part of it, a pocket, and put stuffing in it, just as you would stuff a turkey, yeah.

KAPLAN:

I never heard of that. Have you heard of that?

CLOUTIER:

It must be Scottish.

QUINN:

No, it's an American dish.

KAPLAN:

It's American Scottish. ( they laugh )

QUINN:

No, it was an American, it could be really of German, uh, came from Germany, because the woman that taught her became, my eldest sister's mother-in-law. She wasn't German. The man she was married to was of German parentage. He was born, of course, in this country. But she was the lady that taught my mother how to prepare this fresh ham, pork. And, you know, you cook pork an awful long time. As my older husband, older sister's husband used to say, "You cook pork forever, and then you throw it out, you don't eat it." ( they laugh ) Because of the dangers of trichinosis.

KAPLAN:

Trichinosis. What about the city itself, New York? I mean, when you arrived there, the tallness of the buildings and so forth?

QUINN:

Yeah, that impressed us, because, you know, we didn't have tall buildings like that in the immediate vicinity in Scotland. Glasgow was the nearest largest city to us. It was only about six miles away, and didn't have the large, tall buildings that New York has. And even in England, in London, we stayed overnight in London and they didn't have the tall buildings at that time either. And that was, the first time we ever saw a black person was in London. We were coming out of the revolving door to get a cab to go to Southampton, to board the ship. And there was a black man escorting a white woman. Well, of course, my mother stopped dead in her tracks when she saw that. My mother wasn't a prejudiced person at all about black or white. In fact, she made, finally made a trip to visit this uncle of hers in Kansas. And after a certain point she noticed there was a black woman on the bus, and she'd been sitting like in the middle of the bus, close to where my mother and her cousin were sitting, and after a while she was in the back of the bus. And then my mother noticed she was not getting out of the bus when they would stop to eat. My mother approached her and she said, "Aren't you hungry?" She said, "Yes, I am." She said, "Well, why aren't you getting off to get something to eat like the rest of us are?" She said, "They wouldn't serve me." She said, "Why wouldn't they serve you?" She said, "I'm black." She said, "Oh, I've never heard of anything like that." She said, "You must be mistaken." She said, "No, I'm not." She said, "When you come, you stop at the next stop," she said, "you will see a sign, 'No Colored Will Be Served.'" And she said, "Madam," she said, "I could lay odds that I am better educated than most of the people on this bus." She was a governess to some children from a wealthy family in the city of New York. And my mother said, "Well," she said, "I will bring you something back to eat." My mother really had never heard of that. That it astounded her that that could happen, especially in the country that she loved with all her heart. And she mentioned it to this uncle of mine. Of course, his prejudice had set in by that time, he had lived in this country so long. And he said, "Well," he said, "you have to be careful, Sara." She said, "I can't see that." She said, "I can't understand that."

KAPLAN:

That's one of the things I think that's a little bit of a scar in our country.

QUINN:

Yeah. But we've come a long way, I think.

CLOUTIER:

What was your first ideas when you saw the first black person in England?

QUINN:

Uh, just, well, I had never seen a black person before, and really I said, "Well, now there's a black person. That was all, you know. Nothing further registered. In fact, I was here for many, many years before I saw another black person.

KAPLAN:

Oh, really. New York didn't have a predominance?

QUINN:

We, I, when we were young, I didn't travel all that much to New York. In fact, I was really kind of in my teens before I really was into the city again.

KAPLAN:

It was the big scary city.

QUINN:

Yeah.

KAPLAN:

Because I lived out on Long Island, and I felt the same way. I mean, it was a big city out there, and you just didn't go in, once in a while I'd go in with my parents to go to museums or a show or something. Then you'd get out again, you know.

QUINN:

That's right.

MR. QUINN:

(?) We are close to Newark or Jersey City. In the 1930's there weren't that many blacks in either of those towns.

QUINN:

No.

MR. QUINN:

They were there, but there weren't that many.

QUINN:

We have a small section of one street here in town, about three-quarters of one block, and the black people live there. There's never any problems with any of them in the town.

KAPLAN:

Well, in school I grew up with them, but it's, as I got older and got out into America, I felt it. I remember how shocked I was when I was in New Mexico in the early '60s, after I got out of the service, I traveled for six months around America. And I saw a sign in this town, Roswell, New Mexico that said, "Nigger, don't let the sun set on your head, or you won't have a head to see the sun rise." That was, and then it said, "Welcome to Roswell, New Mexico," and "472 churches," you know, da-da-da. And I just couldn't believe it.

CLOUTIER:

There's a lot of it.

QUINN:

Yes.

MR. QUINN:

Well, Anne and I were in New York, pre-World War II. We were dating at the time. We went to a show. And we come back on a Greyhound Bus. That used to be a convenient way to go. We'd get the bus and come back into the Newark Station. And the bus driver was having a hell of a fight with a colored couple, because they insisted on sitting up in the front. "Not on my bus you don't." So finally the station manager, the Greyhound station manager, says, "You'd gotta [sic] let these people sit where they want." "Okay," he says, "just wait till we get across the bridge." To me it was worth those people's while to get off the bus and go elsewhere, because you knew as soon as they got away from this guy's jurisdiction, he was going to have them in the back of the bus.

CLOUTIER:

Let me ask you one last thing. I talked to this woman that the greatest confusion that she had when she moved here, or questions she had in her mind, was how did they get the clothes off those lines that were five and six stories up on the building, you know, between the buildings. END OF SIDE TWO, TAPE ONE BEGINNING OF SIDE ONE, TAPE TWO

CLOUTIER:

All right, Mrs. Quinn. You were saying that . . .

QUINN:

Well, food-wise, I didn't see all that much difference. White sliced bread, yes. That was something that we did not have in Scotland. And as for fruits, peaches, I don't recall peaches or melons. They may have had them, but we never had them. Oranges, they used to call them jaffas, which I realized in later life came from Palestine, which was Palestine at that time. This was long before Israel came into being. And they were called jaffa oranges. And mostly all green vegetables we had. Of course, in England and Scotland, the people are great for their gardens and a lot of them grow their own vegetables in the country areas. That's cabbage, no, spinach, I don't recall spinach as a British vegetable. To me that's strictly American. But cabbage, brussel sprouts, which I abhor. And string beans, to me, were an American vegetable.

CLOUTIER:

How about corn on the cob?

QUINN:

Corn on the cob, strictly American, as far as I'm concerned. I don't ever recall seeing it in Britain. I never ate it in Britain.

CLOUTIER:

Did they feed it to the livestock?

QUINN:

Yes.

CLOUTIER:

And that was strictly what it was for.

QUINN:

That's what it was for, for livestock consumption, not for human consumption. And, but other than that, talking about the fresh ham as I did before, that was really the only thing. My mother did a lot of the type of cooking that she did when we lived in Scotland, you know, until my eldest sister was married, and then she cooked mostly American dishes, as I do today. And it was mostly plain, you know, meat and potatoes kind of food.

CLOUTIER:

Stews.

QUINN:

Stews, yes, and soups, yes. My mother was a great soup-maker. She was a great jelly and jam maker. She was a good, she was an excellent baker. And you were asking before about heirlooms. She brought a tea set from Scotland.

CLOUTIER:

You can show us later.

QUINN:

Oh, all right, okay. And, uh, that chair, as I spoke about. And that picture, it has a saying from Robby Burns on it. Robert Burns is a famous Scottish poet. And that's about all I can remember right now. It was funny, the family, most of them were tennis players . . . That probably has to be dusted. Most of them were tennis players, the older members of the family, and they had left all their tennis rackets. And nobody said anything to her about bring our tennis rackets. So my mother gave them all away. She said, "They probably don't play tennis in America." ( they laugh )

CLOUTIER:

Of course not. ( he laughs )

QUINN:

And, what else was it? Oh, she had beautiful brass candlesticks, and whether to save space, or whatever her reasoning was, she gave those away also. We came to this country and we saw that so many people had their brass candlesticks made into electric lamps, table lamps. And she could have kicked herself all over the block because she didn't bring hers. But, uh, really, our way of life was just the same as it was. It was mostly house parties. We had a piano, and there was singing, and that was mostly your chief entertainment at that time. Because it was the Depression, there wasn't an awful lot of money around. And if you had any kind of gathering at home, you know, you, somebody always knew how to play the piano. And my eldest brother was a very good singer, and my older sister had an excellent singing voice. My mother sent her for singing lessons. And that was our chief mode of entertainment really at that time.

CLOUTIER:

Any dancing? Jigs?

QUINN:

Uh, Scottish, the highland dances, the highland fling, that we learned in school. We used to do that, but I soon forgot it, because after a while I didn't do it any more. You get teased about things like that.

CLOUTIER:

Can I ask if you tried to keep the traditions going, or did you . . .

QUINN:

No, and I'm sorry I didn't, I really am. Because I think my children today would enjoy it, you know. But . . .

CLOUTIER:

It's very important to become American though, wasn't it?

QUINN:

Oh, yes, yeah. And mostly the friends I made were American, but the youngest brother, a lot of his friends, for some reason, were Scottish, although he became a very good friend of my husband's, and that's how I met Jim, through my brother. And, uh . . .

KAPLAN:

He's the one that influenced your brother so badly.

QUINN:

But he lives out on the West Coast. He lives in Fresno right now. He just moved there a couple of years ago.

KAPLAN:

What about a clothing difference? You said before that, you know, knickers was traditional over, back in the old country.

QUINN:

Yes, for boys.

KAPLAN:

But what about the women with bustles or . . .

QUINN:

No, no. At that time bustles had gone out.

KAPLAN:

Were there any differences in the female dress?

QUINN:

Well, by that time, when we came here, it was the flapper, you know. And, uh . . .

CLOUTIER:

What's a flapper?

QUINN:

The flapper styles, the short dress, the chemise-style dress. My older sister, she was great for that. Not my eldest sister. She was more conservative, but my older sister, she dressed in the latest fashions all the time, you know, as far as my mother would allow her. And, but for myself, you know, little girls' clothing is really the same all over the world, but that didn't change any at all. But I had an outfit made for me specifically to come to this country, a coat and a hat that matched, you know, trimmed with fur. That was my good outfit. And, but mostly clothing for a girl, as I say. And then, of course, when we got older, you just followed the styles of the country. That was all. And, uh . . .

KAPLAN:

What about this?

QUINN:

This I think my mother received as a gift.

CLOUTIER:

What would you call that, a pitcher?

QUINN:

It's a pitcher, a water pitcher. And, uh, it has this saying on it, "With a penny we fear knave, we ask for a bob, we face the devil. Ask for bob, we have decided as quickly." And as long as you have that in it, you know, that's Dutch courage, and you can do anything if you have enough to drink. ( she laughs ) You will dare anything. In other words, you would have no fears about facing the devil if you have enough whiskey inside of you. But my mother brought that here, and there's no date or anything on it, not even any name on it, to say if it's an antique or not.

KAPLAN:

She brought that over.

QUINN:

Yes, yeah.

KAPLAN:

Well, it looks like it was hand-decorated, hand . . .

CLOUTIER:

. . . crafted.

QUINN:

Yeah.

KAPLAN:

But she never mentioned where it came from?

QUINN:

No, no. Of course, there was a lot of things that she had that through the years had been broken or, you know, gotten so banged up and that that they just were thrown away. You know, you didn't keep them. ( she coughs ) Except, as I say, this tea set. And she would send, if there were plates or saucers and cups broken, she would send money to her sister that still lived in Scotland, and she would send replacements for them, you know.

CLOUTIER:

So you graduated high school, in . . .

QUINN:

I graduated high school.

CLOUTIER:

In Kearney?

QUINN:

In Kearney. It was a Catholic high school in Kearney here.

CLOUTIER:

What was your first job in America?

QUINN:

My first job, I worked in a laundry, because it was still, it was towards the end of the Depression. It was 1938. Jim and I graduated together. And work was very hard to come by. So I worked in the laundry as a sorter and a folder, and then I heard of a place, a linen thread mill, were hiring people for office work. So I took myself down there and I got hired. In fact, I was the first girl in that particular office. And I took the job of a fellow that we knew. His, he was a Marine Reservist, and his outfit was called up, so that's where I worked from then until I quit.

CLOUTIER:

Did you, it had a sweatshop, I assume?

QUINN:

No, it really wasn't. They had a regular mill, and then they had a jute mill. And I started off as a clerk, and used to have to take papers from my office to the jute mill office. You had to walk through this jute mill to get to the office. And it was a large building, and very noisy. You could not hear yourself. If you had to speak to anyone in the mill itself you had to go right straight up to them to speak to them, to be heard. And the office was at the very back of the building. Of course, once you got in there, you know, the sounds of the machinery were deadened, you couldn't hear them.

CLOUTIER:

Did you associate with any of the people that worked in the mill?

QUINN:

Oh, yes. Not in the mill, but in the office.

CLOUTIER:

Oh, yeah.

QUINN:

We became very friendly. With a lot of the people in the office. And, uh, in fact, one of the girls that finally came to work in the office was a friend of Jim's, one of Jim's sisters that, I knew her before she came to work there.

CLOUTIER:

And then you got married a few years later?

QUINN:

I got married in 1943, uh-huh. And we have raised seven children.

CLOUTIER:

Any grandchildren?

QUINN:

We have eight grandchildren, uh-huh. Our eldest daughter has five of those.

CLOUTIER:

Do you think your life would have been any different if you had stayed in Scotland?

QUINN:

Oh, I imagine it would have been, yes. I imagine it would have been altogether different. Although today they have a better standard of living than we did when we lived there, because I made a visit back there in '78. And I, uh . . .

KAPLAN:

To your home town, or . . .

QUINN:

Yes. Well, we went to England first. I had a cousin, two cousins lived there, a brother and a sister. The brother was married. The sister is unmarried. He had just retired as a headmaster of a school, and she was a headmistress of a middle school, as what we would call a middle school here. And we visited with them for a few days. And then from there we went to France. I have a cousin that's married to a Frenchman, and we visited there.

CLOUTIER:

Did Scotland look a lot different than what you remembered?

QUINN:

Oh, of course it did. In fact, the building that I lived in no longer exists, and it's more or less a small park. We lived right across the street from the church that we attended. The church is still there, and we went to mass there. When we came back to Scotland then, we spent our last two weeks there.

KAPLAN:

Could you remember the church?

QUINN:

Oh, yes, yes. That hadn't seemed to change, except for the windows. They lost a lot of their windows in the bombing during the war. And, in fact, there was one night the bombing was so bad in that particular town that there was four hundred people killed in the town. They were trying to get at the shipyards. There were shipyards not too far from there. And, uh, they suffered a great deal, my cousins. My mother used to send care packages to this one aunt all the time. But, uh, oh, yeah. I may not even be here today if I had lived in Scotland.

CLOUTIER:

You'd never know.

QUINN:

Yeah.

CLOUTIER:

I'm glad you came.

QUINN:

I am, too. ( they laugh ) I've enjoyed my life.

KAPLAN:

You have (?). There's no real answer.

QUINN:

We've had a very happy life.

CLOUTIER:

Well, I thank you very much, Mrs. Quinn.

QUINN:

Thank you.

KAPLAN:

I want to ask you one question.

QUINN:

Yes.

KAPLAN:

You mentioned that your neighbor in Scotland came over afterwards. When they came over, did you go to meet them at Ellis, or did they come through Ellis?

QUINN:

No, they didn't have to go to Ellis Island, no. There was no reason for them to go.

KAPLAN:

When they came over on the ship, you . . .

QUINN:

Yes, my mother and father went with the husband to meet them.

KAPLAN:

I guess there was a lot of rejoicing, a nice big party.

QUINN:

Oh, yeah. Because she had helped the husband get an apartment, and set it up for them, you know. She was a much younger woman than my mother, but they were quite friendly. And things like that happen, the friendships kind of trailed off, and we didn't see an awful lot of them after that. Because she, you know, they made new friends of their own. By this time my mother had made other friends also. And, uh, the families, you know, had all their own friends by this time.

CLOUTIER:

Well, thank you Mrs. Quinn and Mr. Quinn.

QUINN:

Well, I thank you, and I hope some of it can be used.

CLOUTIER:

Of course. And also Mr. Peter B. Kaplan for his motor drive noise. ( they laugh )

KAPLAN:

Sorry about that. That's why I went in the other room. (?) all the time.