Unpleasant Beginnings
As you pass down the gangway your number is taken by an officer with a mechanical checker, and then you become part of the curious crowd gathered in the great somber building, filled with freight, much of it human. Here there is confusion worse confounded, as separated groups try to get together and dock watchmen try to keep them in place. Many believe their baggage has been stolen, and mothers are sure their children have been kidnaped or lost. The dockmen are violent, not hesitating to use their sticks, and you find yourself more than once in danger, although you strive to obey orders you do not understand very well, since they are shouted out in savage manner. The inspector reaches you finally, and you are hustled along in a throng to the barge that is waiting. You are tired and hungry, having had no food since early breakfast. Your dreams of America seem far from reality just now. You are almost too weary to care what next.
America's Gateway
The next is Ellis Island, whose great building looks inviting. Out of the barge you are swept with the crowd, baggage in hand or on head or shoulder, and on to the grand entrance. As you ascend the broad stairs, an officer familiar with many languages is shouting out, first in one tongue and then another, "Get your health tickets ready." You notice that the only available place many have in which to carry these tickets is in their mouths, since their hands are full of children or baggage.
Receiving Room at Ellis Island
(A) Entrance stairs; (B) Examination of health ticket; (C) Surgeon's examination; (D) Second surgeon's examination; (E) Group compartments; (F) Waiting for inspection; (G) Passage to the stairway; (H) Detention room; (I) The Inspectors' desks; (K) Outward passage to barge, ferry, or detention room.
Medical Inspection
At the head of the long pair of stairs you meet a uniformed officer (a doctor in the Marine Hospital Service), who takes your ticket, glances at it, and stamps it with the Ellis Island stamp. Counting the quarantine officer as number one, you have now passed officer number two. At the head of the stairs you find yourself in a great hall, divided into two equal parts, each part filled with curious railed-off compartments. Directed by an officer, you are turned into a narrow alleyway, and here you meet officer number three, in uniform like the second. The keen eyes of this doctor sweep you at a glance, from feet to head. You do not know it, but this is the first medical inspection by a surgeon of the Marine Hospital Service, and it causes a halt, although only for a moment. When the person immediately in front of you reaches this doctor, you see that he pushes back the shawl worn over her head, gives a nod, and puts a chalk mark upon her. He is on the keen lookout for favus (contagious skin disease), and for signs of disease or deformity. The old man who limps along a little way behind you has a chalk mark put on his coat lapel, and you wonder why they do not chalk you.