I first learned the history of my family when I was six years old in Santa Monica, California. One day in my parent’s bedroom overlooking the ocean, my mother told me about my Swedish and European ancestry on her side of the family and my Arab roots on my father’s. I remember sitting there alone after our conversation staring out the window at the limitless horizon of the ocean. It was as if my world had suddenly expanded. Not only did I have a new sense of identity, I felt connected, for the first time, to a larger family and a wider world. To my mother’s longstanding frustration, I was most intrigued by my Arab roots. But how could my mother’s hardworking, hardy forebears compete in my imagination to the dashing Brothers Halabi?
My Arab grandfather, Najib, and his older brother, Habib, were only twelve and fourteen when they had sailed, steerage from Beirut to Ellis Island with their mother, Almas, and younger siblings. They hailed from the Syrian city of Halab, or Alepo, a great cultural capital and center of learning in the Arab world. My grandfather lived very briefly in the scenic riverside village of Sachleb, Lebanon before joining the family in Beirut for it’s voyage to the new world. Stored in their oversize carpetbags were Oriental rugs, Damask fabric, copperware and jewelry, fine wares from the old country to sell and trade while they adjusted to a new life. The Halabi boys barely spoke English and had no contacts but they turned out to be as shrewd as they were charming. They took their carpetbags to the summer resort village of Bar Harbor, Maine where Najib met and beguiled Francis Cleveland, the pretty young wife of President Grover Cleveland. The letters of introduction the first Lady gave the young Arab insured the brother’s initial success.
Leap of Faith by Queen Noor
