When my mother, sisters and I arrived on the shores of America when I was 8 years old, the boat on which we came, a freighter, passed the Statue of Liberty.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
At thirteen, I accompanied my mother to the Hawaiian Islands. There, for the first time, I saw the wonder of a steamship and the vastness of the ocean. From that time on, I was eager to acquire the knowledge of the West and to fathom the mysteries of nature.
I arrived in the U.S.A. in 1935, to San Francisco. I got the boat from China, and I didn't even speak English. I could read a little, perhaps write a little, but that was all. It was a 17-day journey, and I learnt to speak English from the stewards.
When I was six years old, my mother died; and then, for the first time, I learned, by the talk around me, that I was a slave.
I've always had a strong feeling for the Statue of Liberty, because it became the statue of my personal liberty.
The autumn of 1850 brought an event freighted with deep significance to me. My mother died.
When my mother died, I fell apart. My father wanted to control me. As a consequence, I ran away to America.
What a different world it was when I first sailed for Europe in 1930, with my mother, sister, and brother to spend six months abroad.
I was born on the day Lincoln was shot and the Titanic sank.
Since I was 10 years old, I knew I wanted to sail around the world.
The first time I saw America was from my perch on the mast of a Spanish naval ship, where I could spot the Statue of Liberty reaching proudly into the open, endless American sky.