I recall Miss Liberty
I remember the first time I ever saw Miss Liberty. Looking out of the dinning room on the top floor of the World Trade Tower, that once mighty monument of engineering and success, my eyes were fixed on her. Even from the towering heights, she was epic, glorious, wonderful even beautiful.
There is a certain hope, optimism and promise of Miss Liberty, that great gift from the French who created the very concept of a democratic republic without Kings and without slavery. The ideals of the French that are our own, our birth right as Americans, she is that and more. She never looked more glorious.
Sadly, we have forgotten those words on the poem used to raise funds to erect her.
It is so fitting, that another woman, Emma Lazarus would write, “The New Colossus”
The New Colossus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
Emma Lazarus, Jewish and native to New York, the first place many immigrants saw when arriving. In so many ways, this is the most appropriate poem ever written for such an important work of art.
I fear we have lost our way now. The wealthiest nation on earth, with enough to keep every one clothed and fed has inequity, inequality, avarice and greed along with racism living out freely in the open growing daily.
Since when did we drift so far from the ideals? And what price have we paid for this?
