Remembering The Dark Side Of Ellis Island

America's Doorway Represented Hope To Many, But Its Hospital Is Where Many Dreams Of A New Life Ended

(CBS)  "This is corridor number nine, and this is really the spinal cord of the hospital," he said. "I remember the first time I stepped in and walked and look at it — my mouth was agape. And when I got this photograph back and I thought, 'My goodness, it's all light on the right side and yet in terms of plant life everything is dead.' And then I looked at the left side of the photograph, and it was in complete shadow, yet everything was alive and thriving. And then I look down that hallway and saw this glow of white light, I thought, 'This is like a metaphor to what really happened on this island.' I mean, it's about life, it's about death. It's about going on a journey and maybe going to some other place."

If there is one iconic shot that says it all, it is Wilkes' photo taken in a TB ward.

"At this height there's a perfect reflection of the Statue of Liberty. I had this image of this Eastern European woman who literally was 5"2', and she'd raise out of her bed every morning and she would stand up and that's what she would look at — that's really as close as she ever got to her dream," Wilkes said. "I came back a couple weeks later and the mirror had dropped through the frame — the frame was still hanging there, but the mirror had dropped through, it was shattered into a million pieces, so the picture's gone."

But for every sad story that ended badly in the hospital, there were hundreds that ended happily, like Reuben Barrett's.

Born Reuben Boretsky, he was 4 when he arrived at Ellis Island from Poland with his mother, two brothers and sister. In 1929 his father was already in the United States.

He remembers climbing the stairs into the great hall and seeing men in uniforms.

"You have to understand the immigrant, especially those from Poland or Russia, the uniform was a frightening thing to them," Barrett said.

He remembers waiting to be processed.

"I was a little boy and I'd run around a sea of people," he said. "There was a babble of languages. Each table had an interpreter."

The family worried that Herman, Barrett's brother wouldn't be allowed into the United States, because he was deaf, but it was Reuben who caught the doctor's attention.

"He examined and he found there's a ringworm, right here, in my head and he said to my mother that we have to take your son to the hospital," he said.

Barrett is one of its last living patients. When we asked him to come back, it had been 78 years since he had seen the ward where he spent six weeks.

"The nurses and the aides taught me English. When I left here, after six weeks, I spoke English fluently," he said. "I didn't know every word, but I spoke without an accent. I don't recall any of the treatments they gave me. I don't recall if they hurt me or not, but I do recall being happy and enjoying myself in this hospital.

"I'm really glad I came [back]. It makes me feel as if I'm going through it all over again."

What he saw was not a ruin with a dark past. Barrett saw what he remembered: A small boy who'd come a long way to live the promise of that elusive lady, just there, through the window.

[macdaid]

Yes, the dark side: a place of unspeakable torture and horror. Except it was a hospital, built to offer free medical care to sick immigrants, apparently with compassion. You America-haters take the cake. Let's have a congressional investigation concerning the cover-up of this "off limits" area. I already know the findings: It's Bush's fault!

[cantshutup]

I wonder why Ellis Island was closed down? It seems like if it was still a functioning place, people would know to go there instead of scurrying across the border like rats sneaking cheese.