The strange music of a freight train, the metal-on-metal drone of wheel on rail, the groans and clanks as box cars shift and settle and are propelled onward, the occasional horn as it nears a crossing—these are familiar sounds along the Shenandoah Valley Railroad as it lumbers through Verona.
There are many like him in New York City today thanks to President Donald Trump’s zero-tolerance policy with respect to people crossing our borders. By the administration’s own admission, they are taking children from their parents — and likely doing those innocent children lasting psychological harm — in an effort at deterrence that is as heartless as it is cynical.
Mendelsohn, a journalist, author and passionate genealogist, has been using people’s public family history to beat back some of the uglier claims about immigrants and how they fit into US history.
Every day, I’d sit on a step outside our house waiting for my mom to come back from work in America. The anguish of separation may have even contributed to a skin condition I developed around that time — terrible blisters all over my body in the summer heat, so bad my head had to be shaved.
That I got the news from him sums up Bourdain’s appeal and ultimate legacy. Bourdain was the foul-mouthed Jeremiah of the food world, someone who savaged its pretensions and hypocrisies and created a persona now copied by Eddie Huang, Action Bronson and too many other celebrity chefs. But Bourdain transcended the culinary bubble in ways no one else has. People like my cousin never gave a lick about foodie culture; still, they revered Bourdain.
One morning in April, federal immigration agents swept into a meatpacking plant in this northeastern Tennessee manufacturing town, launching one of the biggest workplace raids since President Trump took office with a pledge to crack down on illegal immigration.
Bourdain, who died Friday in France in an apparent suicide at age 61, was an outspoken critic of President Donald Trump’s immigration policies and a fierce defender of Hispanic workers.
Twenty-six-year-old Prince Gbohoutou’s case has drawn attention since he refused last month to board a flight that would have taken him to his native country of the Central African Republic.
Hilgers tells the story of a Chinese immigrant couple through dual narratives of departure and arrival. In the first, Zhuang Liehong, a 30-year-old fisherman’s son and tea shop owner, and his wife, Little Yan, come to Flushing, Queens, in 2014. The second, related largely in flashbacks, recounts Zhuang’s campaign to expose illegal government land sales in his native village of Wukan on the coast of southern China, an effort that spawned demonstrations and drew international news media attention.
Mr. Tisch, the co-chairman of the board of the Loews Corporation, decided to ask celebrities and acquaintances to recount immigration stories after researching his own family history in preparation for a speech at a swearing-in ceremony of new citizens. (He contributed an essay to the book, as did Ms. Skafidas).