The boat stopped at Ellis Island, but the kids, interestingly enough, had absolutely ZERO desire to get off and learn anything about the busiest immigration station that served as the gateway for millions of people who immigrated to our country.
The children were more interested to remain on the boat and consume their body weight in hot pretzels from the onboard concession stand. Which, considering the temperatures were in the low 50's with a biting wet and cold wind, eating hot pretzels on a sheltered boat wasn't too bad of a proposition.
This was the first time we'd been to the Statue of Liberty in 20 years. The last time we were there, we were driving through New York with my mother, en route to Boston. Charlie and I were planning to race each other to the crown (not the torch, as I'd previously reported), but 3/4 of the way from the top, my then boyfriend, had a panic attack and we had to retreat down the single spiraling staircase. To this day, he'll say that it was me who freaked out and yelled, "GO BACK DOWN. GO!! BACK!! DOWN!!!"
I've heard him tell the revised story so many times, I'm beginning to wonder if maybe it was me.
Am I actually the one that's afraid of heights?
Or is this Charlie's power of suggestion firmly taking hold?
Regardless, I / he, were planning to redeem ourselves on this trip. But it didn't matter since the Statue of Liberty was completely closed. Instead of climbing up the spiraling stairs to the top of this magnificent structure, we remained outside and tried to get a picture of the children where they were all looking at the camera, with eyes open, and not falling on top of one another.
That was no easy feat, either.
