My American Dream
As the ship slowly entered New York Harbor and approached Ellis Island, the mist cleared and before us stood the “big lady with the light.” My father explained to my mother, brother and me that it was the Statue of Liberty. She was the lady who protected people like us—people looking for a new life. I was amazed.
We left Greece on May 15, 1949, sailing for America on the ship “Hellas.” It was a long journey, and we did not know what to expect. Our only prayers were that anything we experience in America would be better than what we were leaving behind.
When we arrived at Ellis Island, my mother felt a sense of relief. However, being the practical woman that she is, her first thoughts were that my father needed to quickly find a job so we could have a better life. She also realized that now we would be free from persecution, and that the “lady with the torch” would restore our human rights. We were greeted in New York by my father’s uncle and cousin. We stayed in New York for a few days, ultimately making our way to Chicago by train. My brother and I were fascinated by the big buildings we saw and by riding the train. I kept wondering “where are the mountains, the fields?” We were definitely not in Greece!
As I think back, it is truly amazing that we made it to America. Like many immigrants who came to the United States, we shared a common desire for a better life, a longing to be free. Yet, each story is different, so personal that one cannot fully comprehend it unless you have lived it. Here is my story.
I was born on December 2, 1943 in the midst of World War II to Fotini and Nicholas Vainikos. My parents’ families were both from Northern Epirus—part of Albanis that was predominantly ethnic Greek, from the village of Hlomo. It was here that my father first met my mother and where they eventually married. With Hitler and Mussolini advancing on Europe, life was difficult in Greece. It was not an ideal time for newlyweds.
My father and one of his cousins were vocal against first the Nazis, and later about communism—to the point that he was told to quiet his voice because it would hurt his family who was still in Albania. These were turbulent times, but somehow my family was able to keep everything together. My mother tells a story that when I was about to be born she was in the middle of preparing. After she served the family, she calmly informed my father that she was ready to give birth. My mother’s amazing calmness has proven to be an important attribute throughout my life.
The communists advanced on Northern Epiros, and soon the border between Albania and Greece was closed. My father knew that if we could get to Ioannina, Greece, things would be better.
In October 1945, my father and his brother Gus secretly left Hlomo. They had made it to Ioannina and one by one, he brought his brothers over the border. My mother and I were the last to arrive. Before we left, my mother buried her wedding dress and the gold liras. The only thing my mother brought with us were my father’s carpenter tools. We had every intention of returning to Hlomo, but as the drama of civil war in Greece loomed it became clear to my parents that they would never return.
The communists stole all of our possessions, even our cat. We don’t know if they ever found the gold coins. Enraged that we had left Hlomo, the communists jailed my paternal grandfather. My papou passed away in 1963. He died in the village of Kastro, no longer in Greece, but now part of Albania.
Life in Ioannina was not as easy as my father hoped it would be for our family. World War II and the Civil War in Greece took their toll on everyone. You trusted no one. People had witnessed brutality and persecution. My brother, Peter, was born in 1946. I was three years old and glad that I had a sibling. But at the time and in the ensuing years, typhoid fever was everywhere.
We watched our playmates die from typhoid fever. My parents did everything they could to keep us healthy, but at the age of five I contracted the disease. I can remember lying on the table. A light bulb on a long cord hung above me. My parents were on one side of the table. The doctor was on the other side. All I could do was look at the light. I was afraid. I didn’t want to die. I thought of the light as my guide. It comforted me and I survived.
My father had decided we needed to leave Greece, that there would be a better life if we emigrated elsewhere. There were two choices: America or Australia.
My father began filing papers to go to the United States and Australia. When the papers for the US came only three numbers came up—for my father, my mother and my brother, but not for me. My parents would not leave me there. Unbeknown to us, my maternal grandfather Christoforos Godellas, who had arrived in the United States in 1909 and became an American Citizen in 1916, filed papers for us to come to the United States. As a U.S. citizen, his children automatically became citizens, so we were off to America.
Growing up in Chicago was difficult for me when I was a child. I did not speak English and was constantly made fun of by the other kids. My mother had made two outfits for me that I would rotate every other day and this also fueled the bullying and teasing of my peers. At that moment, I vowed to myself to never be a bully.
I was a shy and quiet child that would always hide from people that I did not know. All of the years during the war spent hiding and on the run did not easily escape me. In fact, the feelings are still with me today, yet I have learned to cope with them. As a little girl, money was very tight. My parents were not even able to buy me one doll. I kept myself entertained with a little skamni (stool) and made believe that it was a doll. We may have not had much, but we were a happy family.
My father worked constantly and we hardly saw him. He built a very successful construction business. He was always willing to help a fellow Greek. On numerous occasions he built restaurants and other business when the owners did not have the money to pay him. He would say to them: “pay me when you have the money.” And most of them did, though there were a few who took advantage of his kindness and trusting nature. Although he came close to bankruptcy, he always found a way to rebuild his business. He never thought ill of someone who did not pay him. He lived by the philosophy that it was better to give than to receive. My father would always say, “Κανε το καλο και ριξτο στο γυαλο” (do good and everything will be fine).
Over the year, my mother worked to bring our friends and family to the United States. She and my father were able to sponsor over twenty people, in addition to my father’s three brothers. Upon arrival, my parents would help these people by giving them jobs or helping them find work—they wanted everyone to share the same dream we were living.
My siblings and I inherited our father’s work ethic. I began to work as a cashier at a restaurant at the age of thirteen and as a young boy my brother would sell newspapers on the street corner. In the winter, he placed newspaper under his jacket to stay warm. This work ethic helped me gain success in numerous ways. I worked for the Chicago Board of Education, conducted training classes for the west and midwest regions of a major cosmetics company and also worked for an employment service. This combination of experience ultimately led to me to my career in public affairs fundraising.
I met Andrew A. Athens, founder and National Chairman of the United Hellenic American Congress (UHAC) in 1984. During my first interview with John Marks, Mike Svourakis, Jim Peponis, and Andrew A. Athens, I stated to them that they should hire me for six months and that if we liked each other, then it would become permanent. We quickly developed a great working relationship. I started as an office administrator and coordinated luncheon receptions. Eventually this led to becoming Development Director and Administrator of UHAC.
Over the years, I have had the privilege of working with dignitaries, community leaders and volunteers to plan special events and fundraisers. We were able to raise millions of dollars for worthy political and philanthropic causes. Some of the highpoints of my fundraising opportunities were co-chairing the first fundraising banquets for the International Orthodox Christian Charities (IOCC), the Hellenic Medical Society, and the Hellenic American Academy. We have recruited candidates for the Archbishop Iakovos Leadership 100 Endowment fund and coordinated several Clergy-Laity Congresses. I was honored to have organized events surrounding the arrival of two Ecumenical Patriarchs: His All Holiness Patriarch Demetrios of Blessed Memory and His All Holiness Patriarch Bartholomew.
Participating in these successful events in the Hellenic community has allowed me to meet so many wonderful people and to make long-lasting friendships. Among these friendships are His All Holiness Patriarch Demetrios of Blessed Memory and various presidents of foreign countries, foreign ministers, U.S. congressmen and senators, and members of parliament around the world. I would have never had the opportunity to achieve all that I have without my family. They instilled confidence and dedication in me, and taught me to always be honest and straightforward.
For the past two years, I have been the Director of Development for the National Hellenic Museum. The museum for me has been a passion of mine since its inception. In my current role, I have the opportunity to help showcase our rich cultural traditions for Greeks and especially for Philhellenes. With the completion of our new facility, the museum will be a national center for Hellenic culture and studies. I am proud to say I am part of the team that has brought this to fruition.
The rock that I have leaned on for support has been my family, including my husband, Stergios T. Alexander. I first met Stergios when I was fifteen years old and he was eighteen. His uncle was the Vice Counsel at the Greek Consulate in Chicago and he had come to visit my aunt who was from Metsovo, which was Stergios’ hometown. Years later, in 1976, we met again in Chicago after a wedding in which he was an usher and I was the maid of honor. He asked me out and as they say…the rest is history. We were married on April 17, 1977.
Stergios has always been my strongest supporter. He has been a source of encouragement and a refuge from my busy life. Stergios never complains about the long hours I spend at work. He has always wanted me to succeed. I have always found inspiration in his motto: “have a good day, because today will never come back again.”
When I look back at where I came from and where I am today, I feel truly blessed. With the deep love and support of my family I have been able to accomplish many things that, as a little girl back in Vorio Epirus, I could never have imagined. I have been privileged to have met so many wonderful people along the way, and I have developed lifelong friendships. I am thankful that I live in this great country, which has allowed the best of our Hellenic heritage to flourish. I can honestly say that I am living the American dream.
Father:
Nikolaos Vainikos b. Vorio Epirus, 1921 Arrived: Ellis Island, June 12, 1949
Mother:
Fotini (Godellas) Vainikos b. Vorio Epirus, 1924 Arrived: Ellis Island, June 12, 1949
Children:
Helen (Vainikos) Alexander b. Vorio Epirus, 1943 Arrived: Ellis Island, June 12, 1949
Panagiotis “Peter” Vainikos b. Ioannina, Gr., 1946 Arrived: Ellis Island, June 12, 1949
Alexandra (Vainikos) Carson b. Maywood, IL 1962
