College Tour Crash at Your House Excuse

It is worth getting up at five in the morning to come to NYC to get to spend time with my best college friend, Suzanne. Since she is Carter’s godmother it is only appropriate that she host us for longer than fish stays fresh so Carter can look at colleges. A truly gracious and generous hostess does not say, “Why are you coming two days before your college tour and stay a day after?” Instead she says, “My house is your house and of course I want to go to the tenement museum tour with you.”
So we arrived at the ungodly hour of nine AM on a Saturday morning, moved into the rooms of her two college away children (who we miss badly and promise not to mess up your space) and then after a coffee and catching up, Russ, Carter and I took the subway down to the lower East Side to try and get breakfast at the Russ and Daughter’s cafe, the brilliant off shoot of the popular hundred year old appetizing store of the same name. Sadly, we did not have an hour my fifteen minutes to wait for a table and instead went around the corner and grab brunch at an Italian joint named Sauce. It was fine, but no smoked salmon that my mouth had been craving.
The reason we could not wait at Russ and Daughter’s was Suzanne was meeting us at the Tenement Museum tour of the Irish Outsiders. If you have never been to the museum of the lower east side you really should go. We had been once before when Carter was in third grade and she did not remember it. Now that she is enthralled with her two history classes at school she was dying to see one of the places she had been studying.
Our small group of 12 met our educator, Sara, who took us into a building that had been a five story apartment building since the 1860’s with over 7,000 documents different families living in the 20 — three room flats that occupied the building. We learned about Bridget, the Irish girl who emigrated to America alone and eventually married Joseph P. Moore, a waiter, who lived in the building with their three daughters until their youngest, Agnes, died at the tender age of 3. We learned about life in the Lower East side and the various ethnic groups, first Germans, then Irish, Italians, Jews, Chinese and Puerto Ricans who all have lived in the same most populated area of New York for many years. History was brought to life for us as we were able to ask questions and all members of our group contributed stories of their own family immigration path.  
Since my family’s immigration story is more Mayflower than Ellis Island I almost got in trouble when the guide asked me to describe my personal story when I made a comment concerning some immigrants loss of their native languages in one generation in haste to assimilate. Suzanne, understanding what I was awkwardly getting at, saved me by describing her relatives desire to fit in the new world and that a common language was the fastest way to “be American.” A good friend knows when you might be putting your foot in your mouth and how to help you extract it.
After the tour and a rest for some tea afterwards we went down two blocks to the original Russ and Daughter’s and bought enough smoked salmon for a feast for breakfast tomorrow. My fix will just be delayed one day.
A nap and then back downtown with Suzanne and Steve, her husband, for a Laotian restaurant dinner. We had our own immigrant tour of food today. No matter what happens with looking at colleges we are at least getting our fix of friends this weekend. I’m sorry I only have one child to uses as an excuse to come crash at Suzanne and Steve’s house. But at least they still have one child left to come and look at Duke so I can return the favor.