Brooklyn Bridge Worker

Klaus Klein

DAY 1: August 25, 1869

   My mother always told me that one day I will be able to support our entire family. She told me that I would work hard enough to make everyone happy and healthy too. For now, though, we don’t have much. We are a small family living in Baden-Baden, a small town in Baden-Wurttemberg, Germany. I am the oldest of all my brothers and sisters, which always made me feel like I had some sort of responsibility. My mother is one of the hardest-working people I know. She works at home day and night to keep us full and somewhat happy. Our father does not try as hard: he works, thankfully, but often gives my mother a hard time; he worked as a tailor. No, we were not “the perfect family”; we are far from that. But we always remained united.

                     

Baden-Baden, Baden, Germany (Klaus’ hometown)

     Tonight, I was walking home from an afternoon job at a farm I had obtained, and I smelled smoke. I also heard a scream: a scream from a voice that was too familiar for me to ignore. I started running as the smell grew stronger and the heat grew hotter. I stopped running, still panting, and I saw my mother, my sister Ille and my brother Rudiger running in separate directions, not noticing my arrival. The house was burning. Everything was in flames by the time the firefighters had arrived. Inside the house we found our father, laying on the floor motionless. He was unconscious. My brother stood in horror as my sister was trying not to faint. I, on the other hand, did not feel much. I did not feel any regret for this man because I already knew that he was the one who burned the house down.  Now, I had to watch my poor mother wait for him to wake up, as if he had done nothing wrong. If only my father did not make money to provide for our family, my mother would kick him out and none of us would have to put up with him anymore. It was at that moment that I realized just how much better off we would be without him.                          

Everyone was gone and all the commotion had settled down. We ate a small dinner outside but none of us dared to say a word. We ate some potatoes and bread, completely silently. My mother was deep in her thoughts. I had a strange feeling she was thinking of me, since she was looking at me almost half the time. Ille had stopped crying, and Rudiger had stopped yelling while punching random things in anger towards his drunken father. We all had such pity for our mother, and we all hated our father for giving her such pain when she does not deserve any of it. None of us said a word.

   While my siblings were sleeping out in the garden, I sat with my mother on a wooden bench. Slowly, this silence became quite awkward, and I wanted to say something to comfort her: “What do you want me to do?” I asked. She stared at me, letting out a small smile.

  “It’s only a matter of time before your father leaves us entirely, obviously you know that by now. But you have to now take responsibility for this family. I love you so much and I am incredibly proud of you. I want you to go with your brother to a better place. I will take care of things here with your sister. But I want you to find a new life, make a good living, and support this family like I know you can.”

   At that moment, I was speechless. All of a sudden, I felt like I was the head of this family. Yes, I would miss Germany. And yes, I would think about my mother and sister every day. But I loved them too much to not give them a better life. Without a moment of hesitation, I accepted.
“Where do you plan on going?” she asked. Did I want to go to Berlin? No. Did I want to go to Rome? No. Naples? No! There was just one place I could think of: New York City. I have always dreamed of visiting this land, which was one of the reasons I took up some English at my school. I have heard so many stories of people go to New York to find a better life and come back with their dream accomplished, if they come back at all.

                                              DAY 2: September 7, 1869

                                                 Germans boarding ship        
Today is the day. The day my brother Rudiger and I are off for our voyage to America from our home, Baden-Baden. We have waited long for this day, the day that will change our lives, my life in particular. This voyage would change our way of living, separate my brother and me from our parents. This will separate our family, our family which was the reason why we have to move to America.

Because I am 3 years older than my younger brother who is 15 years old, I have spent more time with my mother, and it was hard separating from her. My mother who has always been there for us, consoling us and telling us that everything was fine even during harsh times, always worrying for us when our father would hurt Rudiger and I. Rudiger, who was a little younger than I, had more trouble letting go of our loving mother. Leaving our father was not difficult at all, as we only had terrible memories together, the ones haunting my brother and I.

Waiting to board the ship, we listened to the prayers of our mother, who wished us good luck on our voyage, reminding us of the basics of living on our own, and reminding me to take care of my little brother. Our father hadn't 

                                        immigrants

spoken a word to us, not that I wanted him to. I didn’t want to hear his voice ever again, I didn’t want Rudiger and I to be involved with him anymore. We had suffered enough from him. This was the good part of leaving. We didn’t have to see our father ever again.

When I realized it was time to board the ship, my mother embraced me for probably the last time. I held in my feelings for her, the tears that were about to fall. I wanted to show my parents that everything would be okay without them. She gave me millions of kisses before she hugged Rudiger. I got my bags and was ready to walk off when my father said, “Make us some money. Don’t slack off. That’s why we are sending you away.” But he didn’t need to say it, as I knew very well that this was the reason why we were leaving the Baden region in Holy Roman Empire, the place we have lived in for our lives, our past home.
  
                 Our boat heading to America
Rudiger and I boarded the “Reisende” and saw that there was no place to sit. I know leaving Baden-Baden was going to be hard, but I’m not ready for the new life. The ship was packed with people, on all levels. This trip that would take two weeks was going to be long, cramped and tiring.
            A few weeks after the first day, conditions got worse. The passengers were starving because there wasn’t any food. We tried conserving our food, but it was hard. We didn’t know how much longer we were to stay on the boat, but we knew it was in at least another week. Passengers that caught intense colds, some were vomiting, and others were bleeding from all different places. I was starting to worry, afraid that Rudiger or I would catch the diseases.

I panicked a lot when my little brother told me he had a stomach-ache and headache. But he got better the next day. He was probably a little seasick from the wild waves. The rest of the trip was fine for our health, but the fear of getting sick and losing each other haunted us. This trip stayed in our memories. 

DAY 3: October 8, 1869 - Anatole Schneider 

                                                      Ellis Island

Rudiger and I arrived in the great land of America. After the long and painful boat ride we arrived at Ellis Island, where I guess all the immigrants had to dock. After we got off the boat and took a ferry to Manhattan, we had no idea what to do. We came to America to send money back to the family, but we had no idea how to live on our own.  The city is so crowded and we had difficulty finding somewhere to live while we stay in the city. I was incredibly lucky to be able to speak English. I had learned in school, to an extent. We wandered the city for hours, just wondering what we were supposed to do. We spent the night at some cheap motel by 2^nd Street and Broadway and found some food scraps in the lobby. The next day we set out again to find a place to live. We went downtown and found a small and affordable apartment on William and John Streets. It was just a room with one bed, a small kitchen with a refrigerator, and two chairs. We had to go outside to use a communal bathroom. It was all we could afford. For a few days we didn’t do much. I supported my younger brother with the little money we had brought. We survived on the bare necessities. I went to the market and bought meat and fish, not knowing how to cook anything. However, my do-nothing attitude soon changed. We needed to send money back home and we were already running low on the money we had brought to survive on our own. I needed to find a job. Again, I set out, leaving my 15-year old brother to himself. I didn’t let him to find a job at his age, he’s too fragile. I was lucky because I am German and not Irish because no one wanted to hire Irish people anymore, there were too many of them.

However, there were still very few job openings for immigrants. After a couple of days, I finally saw a flier looking for construction workers for the “Brooklyn Bridge.” I go to the place mentioned on the flier and submitted my job application. Thankfully, I get accepted for an interview, even though I can’t imagine what I would need an interview for. I was very excited, yet fearful at the same time. I have no idea what to expect, but I am very thankful that I can finally begin to make money. Well, I better go to my interview.  I really need this job.

                                             DAY 4: December 20, 1869

                                                          workers

As I walk towards the construction office, my heart starts pumping with anxiety. This will be my first job in America. I must make a good impression. As I enter the room, the workers look at me and start whispering to each other, “It must be the new kid.” Ignoring them I keep walking. Every man in the room was wearing a blue jeans and white tank top with a white hard hat and a yellow orange jacket. I go to speak to the boss Richard about the new job. I now stand in front of the front desk. The man sitting behind was wearing a nametag that said “Assistant Manager”. I asked where Richard was but the only reply was the man pointing to the door on my left. I open the door and find yet another desk. This time the man’s nametag said Richard. Before I can greet him I hear him ask, “What is your name and why do I need you on my team?” 

“Uh.. Well my name is Klaus Kle…”

“I don’t care about your name. Just tell me why I need you,” interrupted Richard.

“Well I’m new to construction but I’ve been through a lot so I’m physically able for the job.”

“Good, you’re in. Your training starts tomorrow 8:30 AM in the main room.”

“Thank you very much, Mr. Richard,” I say as I begin to walk out the door.

“The name’s Richard by the way, but call me Dick for short.”

“Oh, and by the way, Dick, what’s the training about?”

“To teach you the basics. For new people like you I put them on building caissons, but if you stay long enough you might be able to build cables.”

                                            DAY 5: January 4, 1870

                                                           East River ferry

As I ride the ferry across the East River to Brooklyn I can see my new co-workers entering the caissons underground there are about fifty of us working on this one caisson. My large jumpsuit protects me from the water coming from the waves crashing on the side of the boat. As I walk onto the beach where all the workers gather before entering the caissons. Richard was standing in front of the entrance greeting all of his workers with hard hats and construction tools. “Hey Klaus how’re the men treating you?” said Richard.

“So far so good, no problems yet Dick.”

“Good, now get in there and start working!”

“Wait is there anything I should be worried about before I go to work?”

“Well you need to not make any faults in the foundation, try not to get caisson disease, don’t kill yourself and don’t get depressed. I say in an uncomprehending tone.”

“O.K. that should be easy.”

I now take my second ferry to the caissons. The boat is much larger than the last and everyone on it is wearing the same jumpsuit as I with the same tools and hats. An Irish looking man walks up to me and greets me. “Hello you must be the new kid.”

“Yes I am straight out of training. My name is Klaus Klein and you.”

“I’m Jack O’Rourke been working on bridges for a while. Got any questions ask me.”

“Hey let me in what I need to know about this job?”

“Only that it’s dangerous. Many fellows have died some of them my friends.”

“What! How?”

“Caisson disease. It appeared when we first started working on the caissons. People just started dying. Luckily enough I haven’t had any symptoms of it yet and I’ve been doing this for a while.”

“Well we just arrived so show me around and help me out if you don’t mind of course.”          

“Well it’s quite simple, you grab a pick you get to the bottom level using the elevator and then you just start picking.”

“Thank you, I’ll see you around then.”

                                             DAY 6: January 20, 1870

                                                             caisson

  Working on the bridge has not been easy. In fact, it almost seems seriously unhealthy and dangerous. I have still been working on the caissons. But today was the hardest working day for many of the men. It was so hard to breathe that I felt like I would faint. My co-worker, Jack, is planning on finding a new job, saying he would rather find a job that pays a few cents less, but remain healthy for his family of five. Rudiger has also told me during these past few weeks that he was seriously considering finding a new job:

“Our mother sent us here to help support our family. But she wanted us to find better lives for ourselves, too. And so far, I can’t even find a job, and it has made my life worse than before. In fact, I am starting to think that all this was a mistake. Plus, how will you be able to support us if you die underground?” Hearing this shocked me a bit. In a way, he was right: we were far away from home, we worked like dogs all day but barely made enough to send back to Germany. But we still haven’t been here for so long so I’m positive that everything will turn out as planned.

  So far, we have made a lot of progress building the bridge. But we are far from over: the first tower will be put up but the end of this year or next year. And it will be fully complete around 1880. Hopefully, I would be reunited with my family by then… I was quite frightened to go into the caissons. It was very dark and it was hard to see. It was also very hard to breathe and being so underground stressed me out a bit. Even though air is pumped to help us breathe, I always have a fear that the water would eventually pass through and I would drown. I know that that would never happen, of course, but there are other risks that I was facing. I try very often to not think about them. I try to not think of the risks of fires explosions, diseases… I heard that people often get “caisson’s disease” which you obviously get by working in the caissons, at 200 feet below sea level. Some symptoms involve headaches, skin itching and joint pain. This disease can potentially kill you. I don’t want anything to keep me from being focused so I can provide for my brother, my sister, and my mother. 

                                             DAY 7: February 15, 1870

            Work is hard these days, things have changed. The once excited and enthusiastic workers are now tired and hopeless. The work has been gruesome the past month. My co-workers are coughing a lot and I haven’t seen Jack in while. We were separated by Richard when the second caisson was falling behind on work. My right arm is sore from the work and I haven’t woken up later than 6:30 in the morning since the day I started. I’m very tired but I must work. It’s the only thing giving me enough money to live. My position only pays minimum wage of 0.50$ an hour for 10 hours a day, 6 days a week. The money I make is barely enough to put food on our plate. Our diet consists, almost every day, of potatoes, wheat and bread. Sundays I treat my brother and myself to a piece of fish. We eat meat on holidays. I wish I could get a better job but my skills are very low. Luckily our apartment is luckily very cheap and pleases me enough to enjoy living in it.

            I live 30 minutes away from the actual construction site so my morning commute is usually quiet. The city streets are dirty and broken with pot holes everywhere. Winter is the worst in New York, the mornings are dark and cold and they make me feel like I live in the dark. My early mornings are covered in darkness and my late evenings after work are the same. The ferry taking us to the caissons is unprotected so the water coming up onto the boat immediately freezes on us making us excruciatingly cold.

            Being late is one thing you don’t want to do. Every 10 minutes you are late an extra 15 minutes of work on the caissons. Luckily enough I’m almost never late so extra work hours are nearly unknown to me. 

                                              DAY 8: February 28, 1870

            Working in the caissons was still as hard as ever. We were all suffering from hard work, gradually getting grim, day by day.

But my co-workers were weaker than I was, and I wondered why. We work the same amount each day. My co-workers began showing up to work with flushed faces, and were much more tired at the end of the day than I was. Most complained about headaches and muscle pains. Some were constantly scratching themselves whenever they didn’t have to push wheelbarrows. Others were in an even worse situation, in which they had trouble breathing. Some even fainted. Since these weird symptoms and fatigue overcame them, my co-workers worked less efficiently so I had to work harder to compensate for the work they could not accomplish.

caisson

This was as hard on me as working in the caissons was not the best place to work on the Brooklyn Bridge. It also brought my spirits down as I was afraid of falling sick or having these symptoms myself. What would happen if I got the disease? What would happen if I fainted? Would my co-workers and I be able to keep working in the caissons? Will we be able to get promoted? What if I died? What would happen to Rudiger and my parents back home? I won’t be able to get make enough money for them to live. Rudiger would have to get a job, and I wouldn’t want him to work too hard.  All these questions came to me so fast. I felt so hopeless and weak. Twenty out of one hundred of my co-workers had died. The fear of getting sick and having to go through this complicated life, with a salary of $0.50 per hour to live on, working in the caissons scared me.

Every day, I come home after work, and would see my little brother. Rudiger would have a worried expression on his face and ask me, “How was work today, Klaus?” I would always try my best to smile and show that everything is going well, “Great, Rudiger. How was your day?” Our conversations were always the same, but it made me sad. I knew Rudiger never had good days, not attending school, having to steal and managing to escape from the police, and he knew I was suffering from working in the caissons. I had to keep a positive face in front of my brother, so that he doesn’t have to worry about me, instead he could take care of himself. But from now on, I have to start taking care of myself more. I have to take precautions in case I start getting weird symptoms for this disease everyone has. I cannot get the caisson disease.

                                      DAY 9: March 12^th, 1870

                                                                                     Post office

So far, things have not been getting better. I feel hungry and I have nothing much to eat. I came home from a walk, and Rudiger was sitting on the chair silently. He looked confused and upset. As he noticed my arrival, he handed me an opened letter, it was from Ille. It’s been months since she’s written to us, and if it arrived today, she probably wrote the letter about a month ago:

My dearest Rudiger and Klaus,

I hope New York has been serving you well and that you two have been working very hard. You both are so lucky to be in such a wonderful land! I can’t imagine how splendid everything is going for you. Unfortunately, things have not been going too well here: Father has left. He did not want to support us anymore so he packed up his things and never came back. On top of that, Mother is sick. She has a serious fever and does not seem to be getting better. She has been very drowsy and lazy and has a hard time getting up or walking. She shivers a lot too and always seems to be cold. Mother also refuses to be taken to a doctor, it would have been too expensive either way. She also does not work anymore so I had to find a job at a bakery that has recently opened. Also, if you are wondering how we afforded to post this letter, a friend decided to help us pay for it. He is going back to Hanover tomorrow to post this letter. I am not sure what lies ahead but I am praying for you and I hope everything will turn out alright. Again, I am so proud of you and you truly bring honor to your mother and I. 

Your sister,
Ille.

                                     DAY 10: March 29, 1870

East river caisson

            I don’t know when it started, but suddenly I realized my body felt uneasy. Working every day in the caissons surrounded by my sick co-workers made me nervous since I was worried I would catch caisson disease. I had to do more work than normally, since I had to make up for the work my co-workers missed. This made me very tired. The letter I received from Ille also shocked me. I was emotionally troubled and genuinely worried for my dear mother whom I love so much. I did not want her to suffer anymore. I know life for her is hard, and the brothers’ separating from her must have been, too. I did not want her to suffer any longer. Visiting a doctor was not possible as it was way too expensive for us and I hoped that I could get better soon.

            I did not dare talk to Rudiger about my sudden fatigue. I did not want to make him worry for me because I knew he would worry. Rudiger and I have always been together. We always went through all of our problems together. Together, we lived with our abusive father. And now, Rudiger and I were the only ones in New York, sending remittances, which was half of the money I earned, back home.

            I tried my best to hide my intense cold, but soon enough, the symptoms were too extreme to hide. At work, I struggled to keep working and to stay awake. Bloody rashes had invaded my body and I dared not faint; I did not want to give in to this sickness. I would always feel nauseous and claustrophobic.  When I started to throw up daily at work, I knew that this wasn’t just an intense cold. I knew I had caught caisson disease.

            Rudiger found out that I had caisson disease when I had thrown up in the bathroom at home. I thought he wouldn’t realize that the reason why I always went to the bathroom for a long time was because I threw up a lot. He worried a lot for me and suggested that I stay at home to rest. But I told him that I could not do that. I must work and make as much money for the family, even with caisson disease. I knew from his voice and his expression when he asked me whether I was sick or not that he was scared to lose me. This made my condition worse. I am worried about the consequences of my caisson disease growing to be too serious. He would be alone in New York, struggling to make money and live on his own without anyone to support him. My brother is the most important person to me; he is the biggest part of me. I was afraid, afraid that if I left, he wouldn’t be able to live his life.

              DAY 11, April 27, 1870 – Anatole Schneider

 Brooklyn bridge

A few days ago, I was informed by a man who claimed to be Klaus’s boss that Klaus had passed away while working in caissons. Apparently he had been hospitalized at the New York Downtown Hospital for getting partially paralyzed while working in these “caissons” at the Brooklyn Bridge. I noticed that he was very tired after coming home from work, but I never thought he could die from this! He was very secretive about his life outside our home and I could tell something was wrong. Yesterday, me and Jack, Klaus’ friend, went to the cemetery and put him in the ground. We can’t afford very much. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. During the past few weeks, I have been forced to take up stealing to support us and our family back home. We couldn’t survive on Klaus’ measly wages. Now I have no idea what we’re supposed to do. Yesterday I went down to the Brooklyn Bridge. It was pretty easy to blend in with the construction workers. I guess they think it’s normal for a fifteen year-old to be working there. I went down through the caissons and immediately understood why Klaus died. The conditions were awful. It was dank. Crowded, no sunlight penetrated... I drew this picture:

Caisson

It’s so dark and painful down there. I couldn’t stand it for very long. That night, I went to sleep without dinner and I was afraid that it wouldn’t be the last time that that would happen.  This morning I tried to find some work, but no one will hire me under the new child labor laws, imposing sanctions on anyone who hires someone under 18 years old.  Right now the laws are still a little unclear, but Samuel Gompers and New York unions as well as the Working Men’s Party made a lot of progress earlier this year. The only job I could find was as a freelancer newsie but I made less money as a newsie today than Klaus did on his first day, only a couple bucks. My biggest problem was the National Federation of Child Agencies trying to take me in. Someone saw me on the streets and I had to run. I guess I’m on my own. Well, at least I have enough food tonight. Maybe I’ll survive yet another day. 

 DAY 12: May 25, 1883- Anatole Schneider

drawing of Brooklyn bridge

This is Jack O’Rourke. I’m Klaus’s friend. Klaus has been dead for many years now and his journal has been empty for a long time. Many things have happened since Rudiger last wrote: for one thing, Rudiger was a newsie until he turned eighteen and went to work on the Brooklyn Bridge, taking his brother’s job.  He’s been here ever since. We worked together until a few days ago when the construction finally ended. I’m now a full-time construction worker. I don’t know what happened to Rudiger. The last time I saw him, it was at the Brooklyn Bridge’s opening ceremony. He gave me Klaus’ journal. I don’t actually know why. What to say… The construction went very slowly. We were plagued by many deaths and we didn’t even finish planting the caissons on the Manhattan side. However, it ended up being a beautiful bridge. The bridge was 1,595 feet long. The only black marks on the ceremony were the random important people that destroyed so many normal people’s lives. 20 people died and it cost 15 million dollars to build! They couldn’t care less about the people who actually realized their dreams! The next day, I read that 150,000 people, including mayor Abraham Hall, crossed the bridge that day! That’s more people than I’ve seen in my entire life! 

Brooklyn bridge

           A week later, there was a huge commotion about a rumor that said that the bridge was going to collapse. I was anything but surprised. I never believed that a bridge of this size could stay standing.  The longest bridge to date was that one in Cincinnati, the other one Roebling designed, and it was some six hundred feet shorter than the one we just built! Then, a week after that, the circus led 21 elephants across the bridge.  I guess no one learned anything from this. They’re already making plans for another bridge across the East River, this time further north. Anyways, there’s not much more to say. I think Klaus’s entire family was forced to move here. Hopefully I’ll write again to say that I’m a millionaire. If not, I say goodbye to Klaus, and good luck to Rudiger.