6

Residence of Congressman Caleb Morrison
Union Square, New York City
July 1883

Mary Morrison returned home first to find Lev on the front steps. Bringing the nearly hysterical boy inside and taking him to the living room, she immediately tried to question him to find out what the problem seemed to be. He kept shaking his head from side to side, refusing to even speak. She finally brought down a blanket, wrapped it around the boy’s shoulders, and sat down beside him. Placing her arm around him, she whispered into his ear, “When you’re ready, Lev, when you’re ready.” She stood up as she heard the front door open and heard Joseph call out. Rushing into the foyer, she placed a finger over his lips and quietly told him of the return of their guest.

Only after Caleb Morrison returned home did Lev finally calm down enough to talk. Sitting at the kitchen table with the three Morrisons in rapt attention, the boy slowly began to tell them of the complex relationship he had endured with his father. They had never heard of a bar mitzvah ceremony, so Lev explained in detail the significance of the transition into manhood that it represented. Lastly, he told them of his father’s death, the death he wasn’t even aware of, and how he had missed it. With obvious pain, he repeated his aunt’s accusations that he was responsible for his father’s death. He again broke down crying when he finished. Just as Mrs. Morrison began to speak, he blurted out “And now I’m dead to them! They sat shivah for me. I don’t know what to do.”

Dumbstruck, the Morrisons looked at each other. They couldn’t conceive of the idea of this bright young boy being discarded by his family, being treated as if he had died. The concept seemed so foreign to them, so unjust.

“Lev,” the congressman said softly, “you’ll stay with us while we figure out what needs to be done. Please don’t worry. You won’t be hungry or alone.” He got out of his chair, walked around the table to him, and put his hand on the back of the boy’s neck. As he did, Lev stood up, put his arms around the older man, and buried his head in the man’s chest. Morrison looked at his wife and son. His wife motioned with her hand, pointing up. “Lev, let’s go upstairs to your room.” As Lev and Mr. Morrison slowly began to walk out of the room, Mrs. Morrison walked along side Lev, and she too put her arm around him.

* * *

The Morrisons weighed their options as they surveyed the situation. They genuinely liked the boy, as did Joseph. He was a perfect house guest, and he was very intelligent. He was well-read and seemed to have a surprisingly diverse set of interests. The boy’s obsession with the sea and ocean travel seemed odd to them. He also impressed his hosts with his fluent Russian, his knowledge of the strange Yiddish language that they had heard babbled in the streets, and most of all, his flawless, unaccented English. They found it difficult to believe that a little over two years ago, he had lived in Russia. The Morrisons sensed the boy’s feelings of rejection, not belonging, and isolation. That seemed to be a large facet of his personality. They could see it reflected in his sad, angry eyes.

After a week, Caleb Morrison came to a decision that he presented to his wife and son. He noted that Lev was legally an orphan and that his only surviving family member wanted nothing to do with him. He also pointed out that he and Mary were unable to have any more children. To him, the course seemed obvious; they would adopt the boy. The family agreed, and Joseph was especially pleased. He and Lev had become good friends and were intellectual equals. The following night at dinner, Caleb Morrison told Lev Kambotchnik that they were considering adopting him and wanted to know what he thought about the idea. They could tell by the look on his startled face that he was ecstatic. Maybe God hasn’t abandoned me, he thought to himself as the family all gathered around hugging him and kissing his forehead. Maybe there is to be a purpose to my life after all, he thought.

Several weeks later, after petitioning the courts, the Morrisons officially adopted Lev into their family. At the same time, he had his name legally changed. With his new family’s approval, he had selected the name Stephen. As they departed the courthouse, the boy who had been born Lev Kambotchnik in Russia in 1870 emerged as Stephen Lee Morrison.

* * *

The Morrisons enrolled Stephen in the Prentice School, an exclusive private school just north of Madison Square. He and Joseph became classmates, as well as best friends. Academically, Stephen excelled in his new school. His life had almost become a dream. He rarely thought of his old life at this point, until one night Caleb called him into the study and asked him to close the door. “Stephen,” he began, “it is time to consider your future. There is something we need to discuss.”

“Yes, Father,” he replied, pulling up a chair. He always called Caleb ‘Father’ now, and it gave him much joy to do so. The warm feelings between the father and his new son were mutual.

“Stephen, you know we go to Mass every Sunday. We are Roman Catholics. My family came to America after the potato famine in the late 1840s. In those days, the Irish were considered trash and in many ways, today they still are. But those days are changing. Irish Catholics, like me, are working our way up the ladder toward the American dream.” He paused for a second to study the boy’s face, to see if he was following the discussion. “As you know, this is a Christian nation, and the day is coming when all followers in Christ will join together. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Not exactly,” replied Stephen, feeling a little uneasy.

“Stephen, I have some books here on Roman Catholic doctrine, our catechism. I think you should start to study these, to learn about Catholicism. I was going to start having you take lessons with Father Coyle. I believe — ”

“You want me to become a Catholic, to convert to Christianity?” interrupted the boy, somewhat incredulously. “I am a Jew. That’s what I am.”

“Stephen, you’ve left that life behind you. I want you to fit in without any additional burdens to bear. This is Christian nation. You know that. What would be the point of remaining a Jew when you have a new life? You don’t go to the synagogue. You don’t dress like you did.” The elder Morrison paused for a second and continued. “You don’t look like a Jew. No one would ever know.”

“Father, are you ashamed of me?”

“Of course not! You know that, Stephen. I’m your father now, and I love you unconditionally. I’m just thinking of your future. As a Catholic, I also worry about your soul. But I fear that people will always use your religion as an excuse to hate you, the way Joseph once did. Why give them the chance? Don’t you want to completely come into our world?”

The boy just stared ahead for a minute and then slowly began to talk. “Sir, I appreciate your wanting to help me in this manner. I really do, but don’t you see? I was born a Jew, and I’ll die a Jew. I can’t change who I am. Even though I don’t practice it as I once did, I still believe. Deep down, I do. I don’t have the desire, or the belief, to change who I am.” He could see that his father didn’t comprehend what he was telling him. “I know you’re thinking only of my well-being, but this is something I must decide for myself. I will read the books you want me to read out of respect and deference to you, but I can tell you, I’ll always be a Jew, a Jew who is also an American.”

Caleb looked at his son with a cautious smile and sighed. Although surprised by his son’s response, his conviction also impressed him. He handed the boy the books on Catholicism and stood up. “Stephen, I can only encourage you to not wear your religion like a chip on your shoulder, daring people to hate you for it. This is a cruel world, my son. A cruel world that may always keep you out on the fringes just because you are a Jew. Just consider what I’ve suggested.”

“I promise, Father, I will. For your sake.”

They never discussed religious conversion again.

* * *

As the years went by, Caleb took great pride in his sons. They both excelled in their studies at the Prentice School. Both were natural athletes who competed fiercely on the newly formed Prentice baseball team. They grew very close and often had philosophical discussions while sitting on the bank of the East River. Their favorite spot was near the Manhattan base of the new bridge, which was still being touted as the Eighth Wonder of the World. On occasion, the topic turned to religion, and as usual, Joseph emerged from the conversation both confused and impressed by his brother. Stephen, obviously an expert on Judaism, also proved very conversant with the tenants of Christianity. “I read the books that Father asked me to read,” he explained with a twinkle in his eye.

Early in their senior year at Prentice, the congressman returned from Washington after a congressional recess with an important announcement. “I have wonderful news, boys!” he began. “I had a long discussion with Dean Ferguson at Princeton. He’s seen your academic records, and he assures me that there will be a place for both of you in next year’s entering class at Princeton! How does that strike you future senators? Excuse me, future presidents!” The infectious delight in his demeanor was undeniable. Caleb Morrison was one of the first Irish Americans to graduate Princeton, and he was totally dedicated to the school.

Mary jumped up and kissed her two sons, exclaiming, “I knew it! Congratulations! This calls for celebrations!”

While Joseph seemed delighted, the elder Morrison noticed a less-than-enthused look on Stephen’s face. “What is it, Stephen? Are you speechless with joy, or are you disappointed? I’m having a hard time reading your expression.” After an awkward silence, he continued. “As you know, Princeton is very important to our family.”

“Yes, sir, I know. Please don’t get me wrong. I am grateful to Princeton and for all of your efforts on my behalf.”

“Goodness, Stephen, you did all the work. You earned the right to attend.”

“I know, but … I really don’t want to go to school there.”

“But why not?” asked his exasperated father. “Where were you planning on going to school?”

“My heart is set on going to Annapolis, to the United States Naval Academy. It’s been my dream since I was a child. You see, Father, I want to serve my country, to travel the world. I don’t mean to disappoint you, but it has been my goal, my constant dream to become an officer in the United States Navy. “

The other three Morrisons stared at him for a minute saying nothing. Finally, Joseph broke the silence, saying, “Well, heck, I’m not surprised! You’ve always talked about it. Ever since I’ve known you, you would hang around the waterfront, staring at the ships. Father, you can’t really be that surprised, can you?”

“No, I suppose not,” he replied, sighing. “Well, there’s certainly a lot of honor in what you plan to do. You’ve got the grades and the athletic abilities. And,” he added with a wink, “I have a feeling that one of my colleagues can be bribed for a congressional recommendation from New York to the Academy. Stephen, you never cease to amaze me.” He raised his glass and proclaimed, “I propose a toast!” They all raised their glasses, and the congressman continued, “To my sons and their quests to be great Americans!”

The loudest “Here, Here!” came from a delighted Stephen Morrison.

* * *

The graduation from the Prentice School was a triumph for the Morrisons. The salutatorian was Joseph Morrison, and the valedictorian was Stephen Morrison. Caleb and Mary couldn’t have been more proud. That night at the party thrown at their home, Caleb took his sons aside individually to speak to them about graduation presents. He was convinced he had the perfect present for Stephen, and as they walked into the study, he asked his son to sit.

“Stephen, I’ve thought hard about an appropriate graduation present for you. Your mother and I have wracked our brains and spent many a night pondering this dilemma. Just what do you get for a son who came into our family so abruptly and added so much to our lives? Even though I don’t understand you at times, I do feel that I can see into your soul. In many ways, we are very much alike.” As he spoke, Stephen noticed his father’s eyes moistening. He sat down next to his son. “Stephen, I’ve spoken with the Superintendent of the Naval Academy, and he has agreed to allow you to begin your studies a year from this fall.” Noting the look of surprise and confusion on his son’s face, he continued. “Stephen, as your graduation present, I’m sending you on an around-the-world tour, beginning with Russia.”

A stunned Stephen Morrison stood bolt upright, unable to speak. His father could not have picked a better present for him. To go back to Russia as an American! It was a dream come true for him. “I, I … don’t know what to say, Father,” he exclaimed, embracing the older Morrison, “other than thank you, thank you! Oh, thank you!”

“Easy, Stephen,” cried out the elder man, “you are breaking my ribs!” They both laughed. Caleb told his son that the rest of the family had known about the present for weeks and had been dying to tell him. But they had kept the secret, bragged his proud father. He showed Stephen his itinerary. Stephen would be visiting Russia as part of Senator Straythorne’s Trade Subcommittee delegation, beginning with a reception to be held at St. Petersburg's Winter Palace. It would be hosted by Tsar Alexander III himself! Afterward, Stephen could tour Russia and then travel to the Orient and across the Pacific, back to the United States. “In fifteen months, you will begin his studies at the United States Naval Academy.”

As the rest of the family and guests rushed in to congratulate him, Stephen Morrison sat back in his lounge chair, taking in the moment. He, a Jewish immigrant and son of a rabbi, would be going to Russia as a guest of the government and would be going to the Winter Palace! To a reception hosted by the Tsar himself! The whole concept seemed surreal. Only five years before, he nearly became a homeless street urchin, and now this honor. As the guests kept coming over to congratulate him on his academic achievements and his upcoming journey, all he could think to himself was, Only in America, only in America!