Each night, we’re inviting audience members at American Night to share a story in a bottle. We’ll gather the stories and share each night’s collection here.
Here’s the question they’re answering: On the bottle, write a one-sentence story of a departure, a journey, or an arrival in which you or a family member left something behind, crossed a border, or started a new life.
My Quaker ancestors left England to escape religious persecution only to find it again in the Colonies!
Irish famine & revolution in Ireland to New York then to San Francisco
From India, Bengali. Came to the U.S. in 1991, for college, in PA. I am very grateful to the U.S. as a country for the open arms and hearts. Thank you.
When I was in elementary school, we had to create a “family shield.” Mine featured a ship—probably unlike the actual ships of history—crossing the Atlantic and a prayer in Hebrew. Years later my father told me I had misspelled it.
My grandmother emigrated from Norway as a 16-year-old orphan, knowing no English but willing to work hard. This is the story of so many and of course continues today! Let’s hope their family histories are always remembered.
Southern Italian family coming to the U.S. for a better life; parents died after arriving, but all seven children became contributing newer Americans!
Adolf Kurc b. Radom, Poland Apr. 17, 1913, a Jew. Left Europe 1940, made it to Brazil, then 1948 to U.S. New name: Eddy Courts. Look for “the Lucky Ones,” by Georgia H. Farinholt (his granddaughter)—his story.
Came from Washington state to California for college, left briefly for graduate school, and now back in Danville with a family and a great career
George Neill left a prosperous farm in Somerset, England to join the Massachusetts Bay Colony as a surveyor, arriving in a ship in 1629
I left many possessions—including my piano—in Chicago to join my new love in California 23 years ago. Still together—no regrets.
Went to Portland and came back: in between a month, nervous breakdowns and suicide threats. But I gained a bunny.
Another child of the potato famine
Each night, we’re inviting audience members at American Night to share a story in a bottle. We’ll gather the stories and share each night’s collection here.
Here’s the question they’re answering: On the bottle, write a one-sentence story of a departure, a journey, or an arrival in which you or a family member left something behind, crossed a border, or started a new life.
I will never forget my 1st arrival a Chicago’s O’Hare Airport on May 13, 1971. I was wearing a red dress with mirrors because I arrived from Poland via Mumbai, India. My 13th birthday would be in 4 weeks.
I will never forget all the times I have gone zip lining and rock climbing at a camp called camp Augusta
Scotland to America—coal mines/work on Streets to Michigan!
I left my small town in Oregon to explore the world. But my roots will always be with my familia.
Where you arrive at sometimes, all your limbs numb
Left the nation’s capital to settle in a mining town with a hunk of coal in the plaza; still waiting for it to turn to diamond
Crossing Arizona to make a life, Chinese Mexican mix. Loving the country and welcoming all my roots and future welcoming world with no borders
Amsterdam to SLO. Buffalo to Berkeley. Flathead. Deutch. Italian. Polish. Sicilian. Californian.
My parents immigrated from Korea, one from the South, one from the North; my children are bi-racial and speak English and Spanish. We are an American family.
I chose a man ~ not a country…but most of you thought I’d won a lottery…while I knew I’d given up about everything…
The border my family crossed was silence to music, pain to voice, poverty to power, hidden to uncovered, stolen to found. My family’s music has touched the world. Our story told through the pic of a guitar, the songs birthed from the heart of generations
I enjoyed watching my parents journey to citizenship on stage
Middle school à High school: journey of a lifetime
Once my mother and I took a “grand tour” around Italy where we walked ‘til we dropped, ate too much delicious food, laughed ‘til we cried, and I’ll never forget it!
Reynaldo came to SF when the University in San Salvador was closed for the 3rd time. He showed up in the Mission, played soccer, made a new life in the Bay Area.
Once I went swimming in underwater caves. Also the first time I went ziplining.
My grandparents came from Mexico around 1910. They entered in Texas and migrated to California where they continued to raise a family
My father is an immigrant from Japan, so, when I am 22 I need to decide which citizenship I will choose…
My parents journeyed here from El Salvador. My father left to escape the civil war. My mother for a better life. They met in Hollywood and had me! I am American.
My journey to find my real hair when I stopped dying and blow-drying my hair. My path led to grey—hooray!
Puppy–>Dog–>Death (R.I.P. Princess, she had a great journey)
Today, on the first day of summer, I’m reflecting on what a journey this last year has been—as a high school junior I took on a more challenging course-load than ever before, yet managed to survive, and I think I’m a stronger person for it.
I’m not from here, but I’m here now!
When I passed into adulthood I moved from the pleasant monochrome quiet place to the big bustling colorful city
We left my husband’s family in Iowa to live in Oregon and seldom see them again
Recuerdas del Porvenir, Mexico ‘11
A single mom at 21 brought me in her arms across a desert to an unfriendly land. She taught me courage, resistance, survival. We are “illegal” they say, but the border crossed us.
At 16 my daddy left Mexico to make sure my future was brighter than any he could imagine
My transition from elementary school to middle school was an event which caused me a lot of nervousness but the transition was smooth and I have now been welcomed in to the junior-high community
Each night, we’re inviting audience members at American Night to share a story in a bottle. We’ll gather the stories and share each night’s collection here.
Here’s the question they’re answering: On the bottle, write a one-sentence story of a departure, a journey, or an arrival in which you or a family member left something behind, crossed a border, or started a new life.
I moved from Santa Cruz back home to Walnut Creek, leaving college behind, my boyfriend, and my old life for a life dedicated to God and service to humanity
We came from the land of the windmills and the tulips and the pot.
Drove over the Italian Alps on cold foggy eve and discovered the beauty of the valleys below
My great granddad left on ship for the US in 1910, was not admitted and had to come back to where he started—Poland, Danzig where he died upon arrival of typhoid fever
Renato, the second son, left his subsistence farm in Lucca, Italy, to join the blast team making roads in Canada. There he suffered an accident which brought him to his cousins home in SF to recuperate. While in church he saw an angel singing. He would marry Maria and raise three kids and make a good life as a butcher
To Costa Rica I went, birds and butterflies I saw, come along if you like; the air feels like a spa!
In a month, we will be moving from California to Asheville, North Carolina to start a new life as mountain craftspeople
Hydro geologist Steven Pierce gets called in to work for an evil corporation when he goes missing it’s up to his son Daniel Pierce to investigate his missing father and fight off the undead
Departed from the East Coast, land of rampant racism and political uptight-ness to arrive in a diverse community on the West Coast where I could (single-handedly) raise my bi-racial child in a community in which she feels comfortable in her own skin
Joining Mom at her US Citizenship swearing in—after 30+ years of legal residency! Cool. Brought small US flags to share—no one wanted them, we were too American!
Each night, we’re inviting audience members at American Night to share a story in a bottle. We’ll gather the stories and share each night’s collection here.
Here’s the question they’re answering: On the bottle, write a one-sentence story of a departure, a journey, or an arrival in which you or a family member left something behind, crossed a border, or started a new life.
I gave my husband a green card and two children; he gave me crabs.
My Dad, who lived in England, answered an ad asking for IT guys to come live in Boston. He went without knowing anyone or ever being to the US. He met my mom and is now a citizen and won’t ever go back.
I dropped flowers in the river my grandmother’s childhood home in Plzen, CZ and then had a beer in the brewery where her father worked! (1995-50th liberation anniversary)
In 1979—my mother packed her belongings and moved to the U.S.A. from England, and had little time to teach me about proper punctuation and run-on sentences.
As a young child we lived in San Diego and crossed the Mexican border for camping vacations. On several of these trips we had extra fruit and veggies we could not take back. We drove through neighborhoods of cardboard homes passing apples, potatoes, and bananas to bands of children chasing our car
My dearest father made the journey from Canada, the great wild north to the United States of America a year before he entered high school. His choice to come was fueled by the fact that the U.S. schooling system requires one less year than the Canadian system. A tempting incentive
I packed up a car full of my stuff and drove from Iowa to California. My new life here has been an amazing adventure!
Love after 50, still possible, still frightening, exciting and worth every moment, met Brian unexpectedly. Still pinch myself, don’t want to wake, but also don’t want to miss any part of it
Alex’s beard was even redder from the dust kicked up by our moto-taxis on the way to the Kenya-Tanzania border and he looked so handsome, so young, as we queued nervously; yet he was still only my boyfriend then
Each night, we’re inviting audience members at American Night to share a story in a bottle. We’ll gather the stories and share each night’s collection here.
Here’s the question they’re answering: On the bottle, write a one-sentence story of a departure, a journey, or an arrival in which you or a family member left something behind, crossed a border, or started a new life.
Our family moved here from Germany and left friends and relatives behind.
I started a life of financial independence. It feels good!
We journeyed to New York City last month to see a show on Broadway. Our first! What fun!
My father immigrated from Scotland with his family at the age of 9, leaving behind his culture, home, school, friends, and all extended family. A brave leap!
We moved to Canada for 4 years. It’s being in a foreign country, but with training wheels on.
…on a journey to Health…
As told to me tonight: We met in college and dated for 2 years. I moved East and she stayed here. 35 years later I came west for a conference and realized what I left behind.
All 4 grandparents came to America to make their fortunes and returned home. None succeeded due to war and death. They went home and their children, my parents, returned to try again. 3 successful daughters!
North Vietnam (grandpa) + Southern China/Guangdong (grandma) = Hong Kong (Dad) –> United States (me)
Born in Derby in England, 30 years later came to San Francisco. Lived here for 19 years so far.
I’m leaving the bay and going to college in the fall. I’ve left behind my dog and family.
Each night, we’re inviting audience members at American Night to share a story in a bottle. We’ll gather the stories and share each night’s collection here.
Here’s the question they’re answering: On the bottle, write a one-sentence story of a departure, a journey, or an arrival in which you or a family member left something behind, crossed a border, or started a new life.
In one journey, I met my future husband and then left him behind with only a sweatshirt to remember him by
Turned 18, left home, and learned about people while waiting tables at a lodge in the Sierras.
Having left my scarf in Kirkines, I hope to return to Norway.
Struck with wanderlust, my German father came to America to start a new adventure at 19 years old and build a life, a family, and a legacy we cherish
Nanno and Mordechai—adventurers, wanting more, braved the trek, came to this goofy country, and here we are…here!
Born in the Philippines—moved to Guam after the Japanese war, graduated from high school, went to college—took BS in nursing—moved to California, got licensed, and stayed! Became a wound nurse
Adolph Joffe partied late the night before he was going to get his visa to the US. Not wanting to arise early Saturday morning, he told his younger brother, Nicolai, “You go, I’ll get the next Visa.” And so my future—father found himself on the last ship from Europe before the war.
I came out to California from New Jersey in 1966 driving a VW Bug with one foot in a cast, my wife drove kid out later but my oldest son and oldest daughter flew out with our 2 year old son pretending they were his parents.
Under a Japanese maple we planted in Bristol, England, we left behind the placenta that accompanied my daughter through nine months of gestation there
My great grandfather, John Adams, left behind his regrets while writing the Constitution. He believed in all men being created equal in order to settle for separation from England
I spent three years living in what was then Czechoslovakia on a Fulbright. That was a journey that changed the way I saw the world. It took a bit of getting used to when I came back to California
My journey to London to lead my bank’s operation in entertainment/media industry. Incredible growth experience
When I went to Luther College I was 5 days early, in the middle of winter, freezing. The janitor let me in, but it was terrifying and lonely. I graduated and it was absolutely worth it.
Each night, we’re inviting audience members at American Night to share a story in a bottle. We’ll gather the stories and share each night’s collection here.
Here’s the question they’re answering: On the bottle, write a one-sentence story of a departure, a journey, or an arrival in which you or a family member left something behind, crossed a border, or started a new life.
My relation to immigration is very intense as my grandson’s mother is stuck in Mexico with no legal way to return and reunite with her kids
In 1983, I left my home town in S India and flew out to Pittsburgh, PA with my new husband to start life out here: going to school, running a house and bring up a family while maintaining roots in 2 countries!
My mother and grandmother left Germany when she was 2, arriving in Ellis Island en route to Michigan, where my grandmother quickly had to learn how to bake cherry pies
At lunch with a friend in La Plata Argentina; I decided to give love a chance again: it worked!
I arrived in California in Nov 1968 on the day Nixon was elected. This is one place to weather the storm.
I just returned from Africa, where our son lives, and I now understand why he’s decided to stay on living there after the Peace Corps.
In the fall of 2011, I left home to set out on a new life as a college student at USC, the craziest adventure yet!
We took the children to see the Statue of Liberty
Crossing the border in Albania, the guard said “I speak English with a Russian accent and a Bosnian grammar”
Each night, we’re inviting audience members at American Night to share a story in a bottle. We’ll gather the stories and share each night’s collection here.
Here’s the question they’re answering: On the bottle, write a one-sentence story of a departure, a journey, or an arrival in which you or a family member left something behind, crossed a border, or started a new life.
We went from East to West with 2 kids, a dog, a new job, and abundant hope and enthusiasm!
We brought our young children in 1964 for a job in the University. The boy is now a surgeon and the girl was called to the bow. We are from East London, England.
When I was four years old I could imitate the calls of birds, the barks of dogs, the meow of cats and all the other farm animals. One rainy day, the creek flooded to hundred feet wide. The dairy head was trapped on the other side and the lead cow was pacing back and forth. The farm hands made fun of one mooing the loudest. Since it was 5pm milking time, the dairy cows had to be milked. Finally, the lead cow lead his herd to swim to us. I talk to animals.
Midnight ride. Fatherless. Taxi ride. To General Hospital. Women’s Building. Downtown. East Los Angeles.
In 1995 our family embarked on a new adventure when we left or native England to begin a new chapter of our lives in the Bay Area.
Grandpa arrived 1904. WOP. Here I am.
My mother left a village in India to become a doctor, ended up serving the poor in India and the rural south, got paid in potatoes, sent her son to Stanford and Brown, and we still look to help those in need.
My journey to California took place 42 years ago, in a covered wagon. Green convertible I with practically we covered in the back seat. And Eureka! The sun was shining and the flowers were blooming!
Next year I’ll be starting high school at Acalanes.
I have had the opportunity to begin a new life at 49 – I moved to the East Bay and opened a costume studio. I love coming to Cal Shakes to see what other theaters are doing.
Mom moved from Miami to Portland with Grandma to start over, get away from Grandpa and try independence. But he followed.
My father was a guerilla fighter in the Nicaraguan war when he was only a child and years later, my mother, a first generation Polish refugee was teaching him how to drive their car down Washington Ave, Los Angeles.
Mother of two beautiful, intelligent and interesting daughters. Joined NCL to have opportunities to work side by side while making a positive difference in our community.
My friend Michael choreographed Cal Shakes stage fights long long ago…
I left the devastated remains of Industrial Mid-West-Youngstown Ch- for Northern California in 1994.
Joined NCL to start a new chapter in my life and to become closer to my mom while helping out our community. 
I am looking forward to Culture Clash because Richard Montoya’s Mom & Dad were friends of mine 40+ years ago. Her dad is a fine poet and painter. I feel a bond and connection with Culture Clash through this history and have been happy to watch their success.
Friend of the family’s. 104 year old grandmother left everything she had minus a few boxes in Louisiana to move to Tacoma, Washington to be closer to her family.
We are a theater-loving family of two moms and a 13-year-old daughter. We celebrate our “new arrival”, the birth of our daughter, on a summer morning at our home in Santa Cruz while the mockingbirds sung outside our window. Since then we have enjoyed making and viewing many fine performances together.
