The Statue of Liberty: A Personal Perspective

by John Coppola

Every time I sail, I make it a point to sail by The Statue, and, when I do, I stand erect and give her a full military salute. On days when I do fleet captain, I can sense the unasked questions of the club members who don't know me.

For me, The Statue connotes a mixture of facts and personal emotion. Let's address some facts. Nearly everyone knows that she was a gift from France to celebrate the centennial of our country. Her frame was designed by Alexandre Gustave Eiffel (the designer of the Eiffel Tower in Paris), and she was sculpted by Frederic Auguste Bartholdi, who used his mother's face as the model. Her pedestal was financed by the pennies, nickels and dimes of American schoolchildren supplemented by the fund-raising efforts of Joseph Pulitzer (noted for the Pulitzer Prize). In June, 1885, she arrived in New York Harbor aboard the French frigate "ISERE", and on October 28,1886 she was dedicated - seated on her granite pedestal - inside the courtyard of the star-shaped walls of Fort Wood (a battery constructed during the War of 1812) on Bedloe's Island (now known as Liberty Island). She has been gazed upon in awe, wonder, and expectation ever since by all who pass under her eyes, and read the stirring poem on her base.

Now, the personal part, which focuses on 2 very personal memories which are indelibly imprinted in my mind. I saw her for the first time, at the age of 6, in 1944 when, with my parents, I emigrated from Italy. My father had been granted automatic American citizenship for him, and his family, for his efforts in helping the Allies defeat the Axis. The second time was in 1966 when I returned from combat in Viet Nam. I had been given many choices of travel to come home, and I chose a ship to New York Harbor. The hippies and "flower children" of that time called me and my comrades the vilest of names. America wanted to forget us. But, on that day, when I sailed past her beautiful face she whispered to me in a sweet and maternal voice..."Welcome home, my son, and well-done".

For her words of love, I stand erect and give her a full military salute.

- March 2000

Some random links:
http://www.statueoflibertyclub.com/
http://www.endex.com/gf/buildings/liberty/liberty.html
http://www.nyctourist.com/liberty1.htm
http://www.fieldtrip.com/ny/23637620.htm
http://www.horizonmag.com/pictorial/liberty.htm
http://home.sol.no/~kmeyer/statue.htm
http://xroads.virginia.edu/~CAP/LIBERTY/lady_frm.html
http://www.geocities.com/EnchantedForest/Tower/3968/monuments/statlib.html
http://www.themeprops.com/bootsy/display/novelty/statolib.htm

On a tablet inside the pedestal is engraved the following sonnet, written by Emma Lazarus (1849–1887):

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-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!' "