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We traveled steerage and it was not fit for dogs. I can still
smell the terrible odor that made me so sick; my mother was
very sensitive to smells so I came by it honestly. I was so
ill that I didn't care whether I lived or died. Of course mother
did some tall praying; she did not want to feed the fish with
the bodies of her children..."
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"Fragments of memory, pieced together, sketch the patterns
of an international Diaspora, pushed to the North American West
by poverty, persecution, and upheaval, drawn by hope and by
family and friends who came before."
Elizabeth Jameson,
University of Calgary
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