My Grandfather's Immigration Short Story

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My Grandfather’s Immigration

The year was 1955, and my grandfather Pieter Van Zijl was 16 years old living in Holland. He was sitting outside his family house located in the small glass-making town of Leerdam. Like many other Europeans he dreamed of coming to America to find success, which in Holland was much harder to achieve. My grandfather believed he could make a name for himself in America. The American dream of success was abundant in his mind, and he believed he could achieve it. His family had lost a lot during the World War 2 because the Germans had taken his father’s tobacco business and candy store for themselves. The store had been a beautiful Dutch building with candy on the walls and tobacco at the counter. It was always bustling with people and smelled of fresh lickerish and Belgium chocolate. However, the Germans destroyed everything my great-grandfather had worked for and owned. When the time came, my grandfather knew he had to get a job. So he decided to start working in the dining hall of a ship. Before he left at 16 he told his dad
“I’m sorry dad, but I have to go and make a name for myself and travel the world”. His father said “Okay son it
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This kitchen smelled of thick onions and thick grease from the stoves. Every once a while a rat would stick its head out and my grandfather would have to hunt it down. Occasionally he would get in fights because of his hot temper he possessed. My grandfather would start off at a low position and worked his way up through the ranks until he was the Maitre’D. This ship would allow my grandfather to see many different places before he even had gotten to America. When he was promoted to the position of Maitre’D the head of the restaurant asked “are you sure you are ready for this position.” My grandfather responded by saying, “I am for sure ready for this position and I’m ready to work harder than any other person has
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