5. My father’s Polish passport & The Amsterdam, the ship on which he immigrated (probably in steerage). He told me that, as a Jew, he had to stand well back from the desk of the official from which he would obtain the document so as to not accidentally touch him. Then he could step forward & place the fee on the desk. Step back while the official took it & then go through the procedure again to pick up the actual passport. The family didn’t know that the holocaust was just over the horizon but they knew that things couldn’t possibly be worse in America…