Under the Circumstances

It was the hottest day of the year, that June day in 1946, when I was thrown off the train at Fort Erie, Ontario with my two infant children. What had I done wrong? I later found out it was because I was an American moving to Toronto and I had not brought the proper papers with me.

“Why are you going to Toronto?” the Immigration Officer asked me “Oh, I ‘m going to live there,” I answered truthfully. At that time few Americans were moving to Canada. In fact, many Canadians were trying to move southwards, and securing green cards for work permits was the ambition of many.

“Well”, said the Immigration person. “Show me your papers”.

“Papers,” I echoed.  “What papers? My husband said he had taken care of everything.”  Immigration departed, and I sat back, breathing easily again. Our train was already hours late, having been delayed in Buffalo. My husband, Lou, was waiting for me at the train station in Toronto. I had already been traveling for 16 hours, on what should have been a twelve hour trip, and was nowhere near my new home. I was tired. So were my children.  Immigration returned with a stern face.

“You will have to get off the train,” he said.

“I’m not getting off the train with my children,” I answered angrily. “I ‘I’ve been on this train for over 16 hours, my husband is waiting for me in Toronto. Please call him. He will set everything right. You’ll see.”

Immigration scowled. “The train won’t move until you get off. “ He was angry now. 

“I’m not getting off.”  I settled back in my seat. Immigration picked up all my luggage and threw the cases on the station platform. The other passengers glared at me, at my 5 month old baby and three year old daughter.  I lost the battle and left the train.

I was mad mad mad. It seemed so ridiculous. I was thrown off the train, but I was already in Canada. All I had to do now was wait for the next train. It would have been funny, if it hadn’t been so ghastly hot, and if the train had been able to stick to its normal schedule. It wasn’t funny because my son was not able to have his milk on time, and my daughter was weary and just wanted to go to bed. The normal 12 hour trip turned out to take over 24 hours, so it wasn’t really funny. Why was I moving to Canada anyway? Because my husband wanted to. He had been asked to open a pharmaceutical company in Toronto, having just completed his work on the Manhattan Project, on his phase of the Atomic Bomb. After much soul searching I decided to give him the opportunity to do what he wanted. However my family was loathe to have their only grandchildren taken so far away. Especially my mother, who came from a close knit family. She was one of seven sisters and was so attached to her family that she had persuaded my father to leave Waltham, Massachusetts, where he had an established business, and move to New York so she could be close to her sisters and her parents.