DUANE
Duane's take
Here's my telling of the story behind the official marker — and this one's got some deep roots and long miles in it. Pull up a chair and let me walk you through it. Between the Mediterranean and the wide open American Southwest, a whole world of people made their way to a dusty border town and built something that's still standing strong today.
We're talking about El Paso's Syrian-Lebanese community, and their story starts a long way from Texas. The Levant — that stretch of land reaching east from the Mediterranean Sea — that's the homeland of a Semitic people known broadly as Syrians. Mount Lebanon sat within the Levant, and it held something distinctive: it was the only portion of the whole region where Christians outnumbered Muslims.
That made it the greatest single source of immigrants heading toward the New World. Now, most of those Mount Lebanon folks would eventually become known as Lebanese, but that shift in name had to wait until the Ottoman Empire collapsed in 1918. Before that, they were all traveling under the same broad label — Syrian.
Between 1880 and 1924, a steady stream of Syrians and Lebanese set their sights on economic opportunity in the United States. And here's where the story takes a turn that'll surprise you. A good many of them didn't come through Ellis Island the way you might expect.
They emigrated first to Veracruz, down in Mexico, and crossed into the U.S. from the south. El Paso sat right there at that crossing — a gateway for Syrian-Lebanese immigrants heading to settle the American Southwest or West. And for some of them, El Paso wasn't just a gateway.
It was the destination. The earliest known Syrians to reside in El Paso arrived by the 1890s. They settled close to one another, mostly along El Paso Street, and they got to work.
Grocery stores, dry goods businesses — they were serving mainly Spanish-speaking neighborhoods, building bridges between communities before anybody called it that. These early immigrants were diverse in their faith. Most were either Maronites or Syrian Orthodox, carrying centuries of religious tradition right into this sun-baked border city.
And they were building something. By the 1930s, many of those same families had expanded into thriving clothing and real estate businesses, or had gone into law and medicine. By 1953 — just pause on that number — there were 450 Syrian families in El Paso.
Four hundred and fifty families, woven into the fabric of a city they'd chosen from thousands of miles away, many of them arriving by a route nobody even expected. Today, Syrian-Lebanese residents in El Paso remain a tight-knit community. Their economic, political, and social influence on the city continues to be significant — which is exactly what happens when people travel halfway around the world, settle on a street together, open their stores, and decide to stay.
What the marker says
Syrian-Lebanese immigrants have played a vital role in El Paso’s development. The term “Syrian” relates to a Semitic people whose homeland is known as the Levant, a stretch of land extending east from the Mediterranean Sea. Mount Lebanon, the only portion of the Levant where Christians outnumbered Muslims, was the greatest source of immigrants; most of these individuals became known as Lebanese after the collapse of the Ottoman Empire in 1918. Between 1880 and 1924, a steady stream of Syrians and Lebanese came to the U.S. for economic opportunity. Many chose to emigrate first to Veracruz, entering the U.S. from Mexico rather than through Ellis Island. El Paso was a gateway for Syrian-Lebanese immigrants intending to settle the American southwest or west, and for some, it became their new home. The earliest known Syrians to reside in El Paso arrived here by the 1890s. These early immigrants lived close to each other, mostly along El Paso Street, and operated grocery and dry goods businesses serving mainly Spanish-speaking neighborhoods. They were diverse in their religious beliefs, but most were either Maronites or Syrian Orthodox. By the 1930s, many of the immigrants had established thriving businesses, such as clothing and real estate, or pursued professions, such as law and medicine. By 1953, there were 450 Syrian families in El Paso. Today, Syrian-Lebanese residents in El Paso remain a tight-knit community whose economic, political, and social influence on the city continues to be significant. (2009)