It was around 1913 when we moved into an old
house right on the Mississippi,
one mile down from the Robert Street bridge, in an area known as the Lower
Levee in St. Paul. My mother and I and my two sisters, Marilyn and Regina,
had traveled for three days as we journeyed from Atlanta, Georgia. At the
age
of five years, I was the oldest in the family and riding the train was the
most exciting experience of my young life. Even though the seats were not
too
comfortable, we enjoyed curling up on them and looking out the windows as
the
monotonous clicking of the wheels on the track lulled us to sleep. If it was
time for Ma to take a nap, I helped by watching to see that Marilyn and
Regina didn't walk away. Ma had packed a basket of fruit and crackers for
our
meals, which we thought was a treat.
We spoke Lebanese (Arabic) and just a little English. If the conductor or
other passengers stopped by our seat to talk to us, we didn't always know
what they were saying........
