large room of thousands of others in long lines. We were told to have our papers ready and separated into lines for men and women
for
the
medical
examination.
Children were crying and women were too, worried
they
would
never
see
their
husbands again; it was a mad house and few of us spoke any English, so there was much confusion. Stories of those who were taken away
because
of
sickness
were
in
everyone's mind as we got closer to the front of the line. I remember they would look us over and if they saw any problem immediately would take a piece of white chalk and place a mark on the person's clothes. I did not know it at the time but we thought that perhaps being marked by a piece
of
chalk
as
you
entered
a
new
country was not a good sign. One older man was marked with a big “X� on the front of his coat, and was dragged away screaming. It was the symbol for madness. As Giovanni and I got to the front of the line we stood with Nichola, the Shoemaker, who we had met on board. He was also a poet, and he would read to some of us at night as we drank some of the wine we 59