Emigration to America
The steamer Iowa docked by Castle Garden, at the southern tip of Manhattan, along with Jacob Riis admiring the city’s tall buildings and bustling activity. The air was filled with energy, and Jacob Riis was taking it all in. “I had a pair of strong hands, and stubbornness enough to do for two,” he said in his autobiography, confident that he could survive in the new world. However, it didn’t turn out that way. Riis spent most of his early years doing small jobs, wandering wherever his jobs took him, and just barely getting by. After docking, a man hired Riis to work at Brady’s Bend, an iron-works in Pennsylvania; Riis put his carpentry skills to use and ended up building houses for the employees there. Pay was good and work was steady. Eventually, he was recruited to work at a coal-mine — which he noted “I did try, and one day was enough for me.” [1]
This all changed in 1870. France had just declared war on Prussia and Denmark was expected to help. Imbued with patriotic spirit, Riis dropped all his work after hearing the news and rushed to Buffalo and then New York City to join the war — he had only one cent left when he got there, only to be rejected. The Frenchmen there were not receptive of him and turned him away. Angrily and reluctantly, Riis left and looked for work. Over the next few years, Riis wandered around, doing anything he could to survive. He took charity in from restaurants and lived on the streets off irregular pay and work.
This all changed in 1870. France had just declared war on Prussia and Denmark was expected to help. Imbued with patriotic spirit, Riis dropped all his work after hearing the news and rushed to Buffalo and then New York City to join the war — he had only one cent left when he got there, only to be rejected. The Frenchmen there were not receptive of him and turned him away. Angrily and reluctantly, Riis left and looked for work. Over the next few years, Riis wandered around, doing anything he could to survive. He took charity in from restaurants and lived on the streets off irregular pay and work.
Though a stroke of luck however, Riis was on his way to being a “newspaper man.” A former acquaintance, the principal in a telegraph school he went to, saw him sitting in the streets and mentioned a job in a newspaper. At $10 an hour, Riis felt like a rich man, and moved into an actual board-house. Riis worked hard though the winter, and in the spring was recruited to another newspaper in Brooklyn as a reporter. Two weeks in, he was promoted to editor making $25 an hour. Soon though, the paper went out of business falling behind in debt and the owners were looking to sell. At the same time, Riis received a letter from Ribe: a love letter from the girl he had loved as a boy. |
With this, Riis worked doubly as hard. With his saved up money, he bought up the newspaper and ran every position himself. “Literally every word in it I wrote myself. I was my own editor, reporter, publisher, and advertising agent. My pen kept two printers busy all the week, and left me time to canvass for advertisements, attend meetings, and gather the news.” Nothing would get in his way to provide for his future wife. Working day in and day out Riis paid off the full price of his paper, and worked hard to tell the truth and promote reform. Inspired by his days of starvation and acts of charity, he was devoted to reform. He was not interested in politics, and he was building up a reputation for it. Politicians threw bribes his way, and he didn’t bite; they even threw thugs at him, and he threw one out a window — though he says the thug “stumbled over the sill.” He made a name for himself with the paper, but sold it to bring his wife over to America. Looking for a new job, he happened upon the Tribune, the paper that brought him into the slums and made him the man that we remember today