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The Unexpected Story of Donald Trump's Mother ... Came to the US as an Immigrant and $ 50 in His PocketMary Anne MacLeod was carrying only about $ 50 ($ 700 today) when she landed in New York on May 11, 1930.The woman who years later would give life to tycoon Donald Trump - US president-elect - entered that country legally from her native Scotland.But contrary to the widespread idea that she first traveled as a tourist and then returned to marry the builder Fred Trump, customs documents indicate that from the beginning she intended to stay in the country.His name appears in the immigration records of the time digitized by the Statue of Liberty - Ellis Island Foundation, which preserves the data of more than 51 million travelers who arrived in the United States between 1892 and 1957 through said island and from New York Harbor.According to these documents, MacLeod embarked on May 2, 1930 in the port of Glasgow for the United States, where he arrived nine days later aboard the ship Transilvania."She came with an immigrant visa to have a permanent residence," Barry Moreno, historian at the National Museum of Immigration on Ellis Island in New York, told BBC Mundo after analyzing the passenger record of the vessel.READ MORE:

Is it morally wrong to not visit a loved one with dementia or Alzheimer's in a nursing home? What is the point of visiting if they don't remember you, or won't remember you ever visited?When I was visiting my elderly mom, almost daily, in a nursing home for three years, I noticed a man who had dinner with his wife every night after work at the DPW.His wife, in her sixties, was blind, bedridden, and underwent dialysis treatments. The EMTs bundled her up and took her away by ambulance to the medical facility three times a week.He never missed his “date” with his wife.Once, I was at lunch with my mom and went over to talk to the wife. Her affect was negative and I couldn’t get a conversation going. I thought, maybe this is what she’s like with her husband too, but I didn’t really know.I chatted with “Ed” on occasion, as we were regulars there. One day, I shook my head in sympathy and said, “When it comes to health, “Ruth” got the short end of the stick.” He agreed, as I observed the little dark cloud passing over his expression.Another woman, “Betsy,” visited her elderly mom after work everyday too. She was a dental hygienist and brushed, flossed, and stimulated her mother’s gums daily. Her mom pretty much had no idea what was going on. “Joan” died within a year, but her teeth were healthy. I understand, however, that the attention by loving and repetitive human touch (same as gently brushing hair) is soothing and calming.These are just two examples of simple heroism that I saw at the nursing home. Most of the time, the residents were alone. Sadly, the people who visit are considered “heroes” because there are very few who do so on a regular basis, as I personally observed.Those who cannot or choose not to visit for whatever reason—and understand that this is not intended as judgment—please know that the regular visitors invariably pay attention to and form relationships with the other residents as well, perhaps with your own family member, unbeknownst to you. It’s an occurrence in nursing homes for those residents who are able to spend time in common areas.This reminds me of when my son, as a college student, visited his elderly grandmother (my dear mother-in-law) regularly in the nursing home many years ago. She had a roommate, “”Elsa,” who had been regional President of Hadassah, a Jewish women’s organization that supports medical facilities, most famously Hadassah Hospital in Jerusalem.Elsa listened to opera and concerts all the time on her FM radio. An intelligent, thoughtful conversationalist, we spent many afternoons discussing current events, issues of the day, questions of morality and religion. She was bedridden, but though physically debilitated and in constant pain, her mind was clear and her presence was strong.We never saw her family there; they lived in another part of the state. When my son left for school in Israel, he corresponded with Elsa. He was very fond of her. She pinned his picture postcards and letters to her bulletin board.She kept an eye on my mother-in-law who was a decade older. When she passed, Elsa requested that the staff leave her in the room for a while longer so that she could say her private goodbye. We continued to visit Elsa, our interesting, dynamic, outspoken, warm-hearted friend. We all adored her.After she died, I sent a donation to her organization and asked them to send an acknowledgment to the family. Eventually, I received a thank you note from her daughter, expressing curiosity as to who we were, these people who were so interested in her mother, with the implication that she could not understand why, as her mother was “difficult” and had been addicted to painkillers. I thought the response to be disrespectful, with too much information. I discarded her letter and prefer to remember the Elsa we were fond of and privileged to know.The community of caregivers does not discriminate or withhold, from their own or others. Join them and support them if you can.And they serve as role models for younger generations in the family who see them caring for and honoring their revered elders as the natural order of things.If anything has given me faith in humanity, it was my experience in nursing homes, with my mom and mother-in-law, and Elsa.And now, they rest in peace.

I walked into the common room at the nursing home to visit my mom Rose, something I had been doing for three years, as she experienced physical fragility and progressing dementia in her late nineties.I sat down near her and she clasped my hand in hers, raised both our hands high and said in a loud voice to all, residents and staff alike, “Look everyone, this is my daughter, Barrie!’I had not heard her call me by my name in the longest time.“Look everyone, this is my daughter, Barrie!’I felt reborn.