IT is not often Liberty Island ferrymen and those that ply the Ellis island ferry show agitation. Yes, some hundred odd years ago they were a tad perturbed when Liberty was hoisted up and made to stand all by herself on what was once an old fort island, but after that, through storms and floods these brave ferrymen have been a stoic lot, till yesterday.
“She was crying,” said one ferryman to his wife that night, “I swear I saw them tears roll down Liberty’s cheeks!” “Oh the poor thing!” cried his wife, “It isn’t nice being single for nigh over a hundred years. Poor Liberty, she needs a partner!” “You think that’s the reason?” asked the ferryman, who normally found his wife quite logical, “You think the ole gal misses a real man?” “Well there you are up there, single, a statue, and you can’t even mingle!” she said, “Isn’t it obvious!” It was only next morning when the ferrymen went to start their long boats on their cruises, did they see something missing on the New York skyline, “Liberty’s gone!” they shouted aghast. “Liberty’s gone!” shouted all the ferrymen, even those that went to Ellis Island, “Liberty’s missing!”
It was an old homeless fellow nearby who seemed to know what had happened, but since his beard reeked of yester night’s whiskey, most did not believe what he said. “She was crying,” said the homeless drunk, “And I shouted across to her, hey Liberty why’re you weeping?”
“You shouted across the river?” asked a New Yorker with disdain, “You can’t be doing such to good ole Liberty!” “Let it be, what did she say?” asked an officer taking out his book and scribbling, “What did Ms Liberty say?” “She had this plaque in her hand,” said the homeless, “and I swear she read some lines out to me!” “Liberty spoke with you?” asked the New Yorker, sniggering. “What did she read?” asked the officer.
“Something like this,” said the homeless man drawing himself up with as much dignity as he could muster, “she said ‘Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
There was silence around the homeless man as he slowly slunk to the ground again, “She then bent down and tried to refix that plaque beneath where she was standing, but it didn’t fit back anymore, and so weeping, she threw it into the sea!” “And where did Liberty go?” asked the officer looking at the homeless drunk, “You must have seen where our Liberty went?” “I did,” said the homeless drunk, “I did!” and none of the New Yorkers around believed the homeless fellow was telling the truth, “She walked into the sea, and said she’d be back when the plaque fitted back again! She said them words were meaningless for America now!”
’Twas late that night, the ferryman told his wife the story, “It’s all that Trumps fault,” he said. “I told you it was because of a man!” said his wife and the ferryman marveled at her ability to guess the truth. But at the Whitehouse the new missus looked at her husband and asked, “Why eese these nation blaming you for that woman’s disappearance Donny?” “Good riddance,” tweeted her husband, “Holdin’ onto stuff no one believes anymore. Glad.”

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