As the ferry pulled up at Ellis Island this week a small black boy danced on deck waving an American flag. A boatload of tourists of every conceivable size, shape, colour and creed clambered off to visit the former immigration depot, which the ancestors of 40 per cent of the US population passed through on their way to a new world.
The visitors with their clicking cameras and ice-cream cones followed in the footsteps of some 12 million immigrants who landed at Ellis Island. On New Year's Day 1892, a 15year-old Cork girl, Annie Moore, became the first immigrant to enter the Ellis Island station. She may have been surprised to find out that she landed in New Jersey, not New York.
Earlier this week, the US Supreme Court ruled that New Jersey is the rightful owner of most of Ellis Island. The judges swept aside history and sentiment to vote that nearly 90 per cent of the island is New Jersey territory.
Between 1892 and 1954, every immigrant who arrived at Ellis Island was given an identity card which referred in eight languages to "landing at New York".
But common sense has counted for little in the long-running battle over sovereignty of this largely artificial island constructed of rock and landfill in New York Harbour. The court based its decision on an 1834 compact between the two states, negotiated at a time when Ellis Island was a three-acre army fort, decades before it was expanded to become the US government's main processing centre for immigrants.
Following the court decision, New Jersey now owns all but five of the island's 27.5 acres. The decision has inflicted a painful wound on New York's pride.
Ellis Island was created as a gateway for new immigrants, after a public outcry about "dumping Europe's garbage" on neighbouring Bedloe's Island at the foot of the Statue of Liberty. A majestic redbrick and limestone immigration depot was built on Ellis Island designed to inspire awe into the millions who arrived in the US, after long, arduous voyages crammed into steerage class on the steamships.
The Registry Room retains the melancholy stillness of a place which was once teeming with human life. It is easy to imagine the cosmopolitan parade which passed through this hall, from Russian Jews in bearskin hats to Cossacks with fierce swords, Italians with sharp moustaches and Irish farmers with weather-beaten faces. "To me, it was like the House of Babel," recalled one Russian immigrant in 1921. "Because there were so many languages and so many people and everybody huddled together. And it was so full of fear."
The immigrants had numbered tags pinned to their clothes. Often they were given new, anglicised names by officials unable to cope with the multitude of languages.
A team of doctors inspected the new arrivals for signs of illness, using a button hook to pull back eyelids and check for eye disease.
Those who seemed sick or disabled were marked with blue chalk on the lapels. Some of the sick were sent to the island's hospital for treatment before being allowed to proceed with the legal inspection. During its half-century in operation over 3,500 immigrants died on Ellis Island.
Around 2 per cent of all those who arrived at Ellis Island were rejected, and sent back to their native country at the expense of the steamship line on which they arrived.
The court decision over sovereignty of the island may be legally correct, but contains little emotional truth. Ellis Island belongs neither to New York nor New Jersey. It exists as a shrine for nations all over the world who supplied the human energy to fuel America's burgeoning economy.
The struggle over legal ownership of the island is less important today than the preservation of this historic place. Congress is now mulling over plans for an emergency $6.6 million financial package to stop the deterioration of the island's south side.
This is the side the tourists do not see. Its hospital complex of 29 buildings, isolation rooms, contagious disease wards and morgue have been neglected for decades. Thick weeds burst through the walls, tiles are falling off the roof and ivy veils the shattered windows. The National Park Service has warned that these buildings could collapse in five to 10 years.
Saving this piece of world heritage would be the best tribute of all to Annie Moore, and the millions like her who arrived here with a bundle of doubts and dreams. Ellis Island belongs to the past, but must be preserved as a place where millions came to imagine the future.