Sean: Did anybody in our family come through Ellis Island?
Linda: Sean's doing an immigration project for school.
Sean: I can speak for myself, Mom.
Dad: Hey, she knows that.
Linda: I'm sorry, Sean. Go ahead.
Sean: I have to fill out this... Questionnaire full of...
Jack: Questions?
Sean: Yeah.
Nicky: I had to do something like that. I should see if I could still find it, save you the trouble.
Erin: Nicky.
Nicky: Mom, I'm kidding.
Frank: Well, since you did do one, Nicky, at least tell Sean how we got over here.
Nicky: Well, if I remember right, I think we kind of snuck in.
Henry: No, we did not sneak in. Your great-great grandfather, my dad, tried to get through Ellis Island twice, but they sent him back to Ireland twice because of an eye condition called trachoma. He finally slipped in through the Port of New York.
Nicky: Slipped in, snuck in, what's the diff?
Frank: The diff is, he came here legally. He just wanted to avoid Ellis Island because by then, they had an eye out for him. No pun intended.
Danny: Yeah, he must have really wanted to come to America.
Henry: Well, like millions of others, he'd heard that the streets were paved with gold.
Frank: But he found out that they weren't paved at all, and he was expected to pave 'em.
Jamie: Still happens, too. Just not to the Irish.
Sean: Are there any traditions that we still do today?
Henry: Well, as a matter of fact...
Erin: We still like our drink.
Danny: Hear! Hear!
Linda: It's for school.
Henry: As a matter of fact, we're practicing a tradition right now-- having Sunday dinners together. My father used to say that he needed to look into the eyes of all those he loved at least once a week so that he could cut off any real trouble at the pass.
Danny: And what do you see when you look around the table at this bunch?
Henry: Trouble. Nothing but trouble.
Jack: What did you mean when you said it still happens, just not to the Irish?
Jamie: Just the promise of New York, of America, of streets paved with gold or whatever. It's not as simple as jumping off the boat into open arms.
Nicky: Well, what about what it says on the Statue of Liberty?
Frank: Well, that's the promise, but each tribe has had to earn their place here. And historically, they make it tough for the tribes that come after, just to keep it fair.
Nicky: How is that fair?
Frank: Well, fair to themselves, which, in the end, is how most people define fair.
Any regular viewer of this show is more than familiar with the folksy, yet powerful wisdom that comes with a good Tom Selleck dinner table story. This is no exception. Every group, of every race, that has come to this country has struggled. No one is special or exempt.
And the streets weren’t paved with gold. They were paved by pavers. The gold was at the end of the street after each generation did the heavy-lifting.
But not before the struggle, not as some kind of reward for being a certain color. Or, out of some kind of duty that the privileged descendants of previous immigrants felt they owed to perfect strangers out of guilt. There was, and should be, no guilt because each “tribe” has paid the same price and had the same opportunities.
I thought that was the American dream? I don’t know. I’m just mad that it’s too late for Tom Selleck to run for President.