My train left New York early in the cool of the morning and pulled into the Pennsylvania Railroad Centennial Depot in the heat of high noon. With much squealing and puffing, the engine slowed as we approached Fairmont Park, overlooking Schuylkill River. On this pristine July morning, the blue sky and the grandiose buildings of the Philadelphia Centennial Exposition were reflected in the shimmering water of the river, so different from the murky brown Tiber. An exhilarating freedom, comprised of the excitement of travel and the anticipation of what was to come, coursed through me as I leaned out the open window. This was where I hoped to make my name for myself in my country.

           ...

Please subscribe to keep reading.