Dear Editor,
When I was a young girl of 11 years old on Saba, my parents Clement Sorton, a policeman at the time, and Allier Sorton took me to New York City on vacation together with my 2 sisters and 2 brothers. It was in the month of June 1956 when we travelled there on vacation. We were there for about 4 months.
During our vacation in New York we were invited out for lunch by so many families and friends. Many of them visited us also at the apartment where we were staying in Harlem at 138 Street West, Lenox Avenue Apartment No 8.
In the month of July one of our families invited us out to spend the day with them.
The late Mr. C. Whitfield came for us and took us to his home. We had a wonderful time with his sons and grandchildren who were all there. We played different games, such as Chinese checkers, among other things and had a lot of fun.
As night stepped in and it was getting dark, we had to leave Brooklyn and travel back to Harlem where we were staying. The late C. Whitfield travelled together with us to the train station. There we took the midnight express train and we all were in the train travelling back to our family apartment at 138 Street. In the train my parents, both sisters and brothers as well as Mr. C. Whitfield were talking and laughing and were very happy. They were not observing when the train stopped.
When the train stopped, I was looking out through the window and saw that the train had stopped at 136 Street. I stepped out of the train and stood on the block platform with other passengers who had also stepped out. I looked around thinking my family was also out of the train and noticed that they had not got out.
The express train took off and took them all up to 145th Street. There they took a taxi and went back down to the block at 136 Street looking for me. They did not see me and were all upset.
Because I knew that the train continued on with them, I decided to walk and run as much as I could until I reached 138 Street. I walked and ran one block and saw heavy traffic coming my way. Although I was very young, I stood on the zebra crossing and then jumped over to the other blocks as fast as I could.
At a given moment I met a dark-skin lady with a long black coat over her arm and wearing a woolen cap. When she saw that I was a young girl running in front of her she shouted out “Kid, kid, what are you doing out this hour of the night? Wait for me. I can take you where you have to go.” I turned around and told her, “I don't need your help.” The lady continued to shout “Kid, Kid!” while I continued running as fast as I could.
While I was running, I looked to my left side and saw a vision of 2 large white wings flying along with me. I kept running until I reached the candy store at the end of the block. Upon reaching the candy store I saw 3 Latino men with their heads hanging down in their laps. They were apparently so high that they did not observe a young person running passing them by.
When I reached the candy store, I knew I was almost home. I looked up, down and across and saw that no traffic was approaching. I ran over to the other side of the street from where I then walked until I saw the basement door of the Apartment 111½ where we were staying. I pressed the doorknob and opened the door. I went inside to the cabinet and pressed apartment No 8. The bell rang at my godmother's apartment. She answered and asked, “Who is it?” Then I answered and said, “It is Golda” as I am usually called. She said, “What are you doing here by yourself?” “When I come upstairs I will tell you what happened.” Then she said, “Come on up.”
I ran up the stairs to her apartment. My godmother opened her door and I thanked the Lord I had reached home safe.
After that my godmother and I sat looking out the window to see when my parents with my sisters and brothers and Mr. C. Whitfield would reach.
A short time after we saw them coming to the basement. I called out from upstairs and told them, “I am home.” I called again, “I am home. Come upstairs. Don’t worry anymore.”
They then came up the stairs to our apartment and were very happy that I had reached home safely.
After that day, I was called the child that was lost and found.
Florence Golda Frederica Sorton
Saba
