I was in Hamburg for two weeks during August 1999. I had home exchanged with some Hamburgers (I knew that would get your attention!) who lived in a flat in the Othmarchen area. While they used my house and car, I used theirs. I was on vacation. I never had any intention of doing anything genealogical. It just sort of happened.

I have, however, researched my ancestors for years, including a trip to the Family History Library (where I found some Mormon relatives) and the National Archives in Washington, DC.

On August 26, 1907, my maternal grandmother and great-grandmother, after fleeing the Czar's Russia and trekking across Europe, left from Antwerp, Netherlands, for New York City and a new life in America. They embarked on a boat called The Vaterland, which was owned by the Hamburg-Amerika line.

One of my uncles had the name of the boat, and, using the records at the National Archives and the Morton Allen Steamship Directory, I was able to locate the actual boat records and the date of arrival. As a matter of fact, my great-grandmother, grandmother, and some of my great-aunts and uncles left Ellis Island at 11:30am on August 26, 1907. I have the records to prove it.

I can only imagine how disorienting the whole experience must have been. How different--and difficult--life must have been for those people. How many of us could--even with our education--pick up and leave our home country for one where we did not speak the language. My ancestors, of course, were uneducated and my great-grandmother, who I remember from my childhood, never learned to speak English.

Like many of the Jewish immigrants fleeing the Czar's pogroms and involuntary (forced) service into the Russian armed forces, my ancestors soon made their home on the Lower East Side in New York City. Within a generation they had moved to the Bronx and to Connecticut, some to prosper mightily and others to slog along in American society. Remaining family in Europe was virtually erased in World War II. It was a case of "If the Nazis didn't get you, Stalin did." That piece of paper proving US citizenship was the proudest possession my grandmother had.

I was born in Connecticut 10 months after my father returned from World War II in 1946, making me one of the oldest baby boomers around. I grew up on these immigrant stories. As an adult--and long after many of the people who could have told me tales had died--I began to do research to recover my roots.

If you have ancestors that you know left from Hamburg, tourist information will help you get a certificate of embarkation. Tourist information is located in the Landungsbrucken area where all the bus tours and harbor tours start. You can't miss it. There is a brochure printed in English, and plenty of the people working there speak English. They were infallibly helpful with every question I had during my two-week stay.

Well, this didn't do me much good, as that same piece of paper from the archives showed that my ancestors did not leave from Hamburg, but from Antwerp in The Netherlands. I was in Hamburg, of course, not Antwerp. That, however, did not end the story, or I would not be writing this piece.

One day in my rambles around the Hamburg port area--where much of the tourist action takes place--I came upon a shop called Captain's Cabin near tourist information. It was a basic souvenir shop with a nautical bent. In the shop there were reproductions of old Hamburg-Amerika line posters.

I purchased one of the Deutschland but mentioned to the saleslady that I really would like one of the Vaterland to take home. Well, I was given directions to a shop across the street--which I had great difficulty finding. I sort of meandered around, ending up first in a hardware store. When I finally reached the correct shop, I knew it was the right one because there were miniature ships in the window.

I went in and explained in my nonexistent German (mostly consisting of Yiddish phrases remembered from my childhood and hand gestures) that I wanted information on "Das Vaterland". Well, the shop owner pulled out a bunch of photographs. "Alles," ("All of them.") I said, as I cleaned out the shop of all photos of The Vaterland.

Then the old gentleman went over to a shelf and gently pulled a model of a ship off the shelf. He turned it over. It said, "Vaterland" underneath. I gasped. Of course, I bought it. Unfortunately, he only had one. I would have bought "alles" if he had more of them.

If you want to order a ship model of any of the boats on which your ancestors immigrated, e-mail Jens Gnewuch (gnewuch@mail.collnav.de). The web site for the ship models is Collectio Navalis; Schiffsminiaturen und Antiquarische Bücher (www.collnav.de), "Naval Collectibles: Miniature Ships and Antique Books."

The site is only in German, so, if you are, like I am, German language impaired, I recommend that you e-mail Jens Gnewuch directly. He is not the person I dealt with in Hamburg and, unlike Hamburg gentleman, does speak English. I believe he is the person from whom the Hamburg shop orders its miniature ships. The website has a list of ships that are available, but Herr Gnewuch will make anything you want to order.

That small ship model, which cost about $50, now sits in my dining room. It is the most meaningful souvenir I have ever brought back from Europe. As for the photographs, all of them--which I had framed as a group--now hang at the foot of the stairs to the second level of my townhouse. The one photograph that was a duplicate was separately framed and sent on to my cousin in Oregon who is also a genealogical enthusiast. Terrific present, don't you think?

For those of you looking for presents for family members for a special occasion, I could hardly think of a better gift than one of these miniature ships. It's a lot better than an Eiffel Tower with a thermometer in it. We will never know how are ancestors felt as they approached Lady Liberty in New York Harbor, but, yes we can imagine, can't we?