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Interview by John Lynch
ReWrite by Roaldus Rcihmond
1.
I CAN LAUGH AT THE GRINITE
The room was sparsely furnished and bleak, but sun-
light filtered through unwashed windows to brighten it.
The huge white frigidaire looked out of place there. Gar-
avelli leaned easily back in his chair, hands on the table
that had seen many poker games and borne many bottles.
Thinning black hair was brushed sleekly back from his lean
well -cut face. He spoke quickly and eagerly, smiled readily.
When excited he gestured wildly with his hands, Shirt-
sleeves were rolled up on muscular frown forearms, and the
collar was opened to the hair on his chest. Garavelli was
a man of medium size with a lithe catlike swiftness and
strength. His manner was one of good -fellowship; his dark
glance was friendly as his smile. Only When aroused did
his face harden into a mask of menace.
"Sure, I know you're all right," said Garavelli. "I
know it or I wouldn't tell you nothing. I've seen plenty
of this granite business. Off and on I been in it a long
time. In the sheds mostly, after it comes down from the
quarries. I never worked round the quarries myself. I
get enough of it right here in the sheds.
"They mark them and set them up in the sheds. A man
lines the atone up for the surface -cutting machine. Them
surface -cutters get the dust, boy. They get it bad. After
the surface -cutter it goes to the hammerer or polisher.
It's most all rock -face stuff. If you want a hammered
2.
finish on the stone, that's rough finish, see? They do
it with chisels run by air pressure. It's all pneumatic
tools now. The chisels don't have just one blade. They
have more blades that keep turning and cutting. The pol-
ishing machine is big. You run this big disk over the stone
to get a smooth finish. To cut the stone to the right size
in the first place they use big saws with steel shot under
the blade. They have to keep water running on the saws
they got so hot. There's one hell of a friction when you
go to cut through granite. You know you ain't cutting
butter, I tell you that muCht
"I was born in Italy. I came here with my folks when
I was young. Just a small kid. My folks was better off
in the Old Country, but they had children over here. my
brothers was working over here already. They wanted us
to come over. There was lots of talk in Italy about all
the money they made in America. The ones who came over
first wrote back about the big money and the great things
this country had. So more and more kept coming across.
"They left a nice country to come, too.,/ I'll say they
did. Mountains and lakes and flowers over there. The lakes
was pretty. Deep blue water and hills all round them. Kids
in the fields and gardens. I'm going back for sure some
day. I think in 1942. Not to stay, no I don't stay. Just
a visit. See my old home and same of the kids I played
with and all the people in the town I knew. It will be
different. Maybe I won't know the place. Maybe I won't
know anybody there. But I can remember how it was. A big
celebration in Rome in 1942, you know. Like the World's
3.
Fair in New York. Maybe it's a world's fair over there.
Lots of people are going, my friends from here. You come
with us and I'll show you Italy. Go to Rome, you should
see Rome. You'd like it. The old buildings, the streets,
the people, the gay life they have. Not so gay probably
since Mussolini. But for the celebration it will be. Came
with me and stay in Florence.. That's where you'll learn
Italian. The north of Italy is what I like. I coma from
the north. Bisuschio, the province of Como. The north is
the best. That's the place the royalty of Europe went for
honeymoons and vacations. You've heard of Lake Como. Sure,
a beautiful country. All bright colors, you never saw
such colors." Garavelli nodded and tapped his head: "It's
lasting up here, see? So we want to go back for a little
while and see it again. You don't forget where you was
born and played as a kid. You keep a feeling for that place
no matter where it is. Before you die you want to see it
if you got to go halfway back across the world to get there.
"My wife goes with me, too. I have respect for women
good women. My mother showed me that. She was one of
the best. I take my wife, but not the kid. Ile is six years
old. Time enough for him when he grows up... My wife was
born in this country. She's a citizen, same as me. I'm
a citizen all right; they can't deport me now. You bet
your life they can'ti I haven't been back to the Old Country
before. This'll be my last trip, too. Pretty quick I'll
be old with no money...
"Sure, I like this country. You bet I like it here.
Most of my life I spent here. This ii my country. I married
4.
here. I earn my living here. We are all Americans in my
family. Didn't the Italians fight for this country in the
last war'? The Italian people here are all Americans, good
Americans. Maybe they think of the Old Country; they are
proud of it, sure. Maybe they want to go back some day,
to see their homes or something like Como. But they won't
stay. They like their new country here. They're proud of
it, too. They'll come back to live. America is a swell
country to live in.
"We landed in New York in 1912. We came on the Conte
di Savoie, a fine big boat. It took us fourteen days com-
ing across. Like Columbus almost, Mai? Now they make it
across in four days. I liked the trip, but not for my
father. Me was sick. Not from the boat, from the vacc-
ination.
"Since 1912 things have changed a lot. Ships and
machines and people, too. Everything has changed. People
most of all. Even the granite has changed. Machinery has
changed that. Lots of men out of work. I've been laid
off myself. I lost a lot of time. It hurts, too. When
you're loafing you got to spend all the money you had saved.
It goes fast when nothing's coming in. Of course working
conditions are better now. It's better in the sheds. The
suctions take up the dust. Machines have done a lot of
good, sure. But they have put a lot of men out of work,
too. You bet your life they have. They've changed granite.
"I was lonesome when we first got over here. But I
got over it pretty quick. I got acquainted with people in
a little while. There were many from our country. After
5
awhile we cot to know everybody. We mix good with people,
see? It's a way my father had, and I cot it too. We mix
good and we spend money. You got to if you know lots of
people... Not foolish, I don't mean that. Just to entertain
our friends in A nice way. Sure, I used to spend it foolish
before I Got married. With a bunch I used to go to Montreal
and spend plenty. What a bunch that was, toot Talk about
your crazy ones and wild ones. What a bunch of Indians we
had. All young stonecutters earning good money. We had
some tines, But no more of that stuff. Not for me. Not
since I got married. My old woman wouldn't stand for it.
Besides I got to think of the kid,
"I went to the public school. It was good, it was
o.k. But I don't like school. I wanted to work. I quit
school because I wanted to work. I was thirteen when I
left school to go to work. Since then I've had plenty of
work, boy. I got what I wanted: work. I got ito all right.
Maybe you think I didn't get all the work I wanted. I worked
in granite before I even left school. Sure, I started young
with granite. Before I wan thirteen I worked in the shed
from six in the morning until eight. Then I went to school.
Then I worked from four to five or six at night, every
night after school. I was crazy for work, see? I started
with granite when I was mall, and I grew up with granite.
So I know granite. I never made so much money but I know
it. I have no trade that pays a lot like, like a cutter
or sculptor. But I work all the time at something. I
started out at grunting, they call it. Picking up chips
and like that around the shed; odd jobs. Lumping is another
6.
job I know. You chain the stones to be moved by the crane.
You got to chain them richt. Boxing is where you crate up
the stones when they're finished ready to ship. Bedsetters
are the men that set the stenos under the polisher. I've
done that, too. All those jobs. But I'm no carver. They
zet the highest pay, you know. They .oucht to cot it. To
zet the high pay you cot to take the dust, too... The best
job I had was erindinc tools. Sharpening the chisels and
cuts they use on the granite. They call them blacksmiths
in the shed. It keeps you busy keepine the tools sharp.
Them ec:ces don't last lonc on cranite.
"The most money I ever male wasn't in stonesheds. It
was during the biz war. I went to work in the shipyards
in Newark. I' was a young fellow. I was making so much
money I didn't know what to do with it. Fifteen dollars
a day or more. Imagine that todayl Now they want people
to work a week for fifteen dollars. That's what I made.
I worked with the riveters. I:eating rivets, that was my
job. You got to have them just the right heat. You ought
to see them riveters handle rivets. White-hot and they
toss them with plyers and catch them in buckets. You cot
to have a quick eye and a sure hand to play ball with hot
rivets. You got to be touch buildinc with steel. Sure,
and you got to be touch workinc with granite, too.
"I like the granite business better. I feel more at
home. They turn out fast work today in the sheds. It takes
maybe three days to turn out a stone that used to take a
week or more. Machinery has done that. In the quarries
they have better machinery, too.
7.
"It was touch for everybody in the early days. Lots
of stonecutters die from the silica. Now they've cot new
and better equipment; they've all got to use the suctions.
It helps a lot, but it ain't perfect. Men still die. You
bot your life my kid don't go to work in no stoneshed.
Silica, that's what kills them. Everybody who stays in
granite, it gets... I don't get so much of it myself. Maybe
I'm smart. I don't make so much money, but I don't get so
much silica* In my end of the shed there ain't so much dust.
I can laugh at the damn granite because it can't touch me.
That's me. I ainl.t got no moneys but I ain't got no silica
either. My end of the shed don't get so much dust* It's
like a knife, you know, that silica. Like a knife in your
chest.
"I been laid off once in awhile, sure. The business
is slow in winter. Last winter I didn't have no work. I
drew my unemployment insurance money. That saved my life.
I sold a little whisky and beer, too. Just to my friends
on Sunday. I'm telling you, my kid ain't going without
milk. Not if I have to get me a gun, he ain't going hungry.
Well, we got by. We got along. In the spring I went back
to the shed.
"When the big strike came in '22 I was just learning
the blacksmith trade. Then with the strike I had to move
away to get a job. No jobs here. Everybody out of work.
When Granite stops here everything stops. So I went back
to Newark. That's where I cot married. My wife was.an
Italian girl from Montpelier. I never met her up here.
rad to go to Newark to find her, see? It's a funny thine.
8.
I was working in a hotel in Newark When I net her. We got
married pretty quick. She came near being born on the
boat, my wife. Her folks came over from Italy, too. She
was born right after they got here to America. That was
good luck. Eor folks are dead now. My father and mother,
too. By 1033 they are all dead... We get married eleven
years before we have the kid. Long time to Co without a
&Ind, huh? I'm glad because it's a boy. He's been sick
but he's bettor now. He's pretty big and strong now, a
good healthy boy. That's how I like him to be... I'm a
Catholic; so Is my wife. We used to Co to church all the
time. We still go, but not so much. Still we don't miss
many Sundays.
"Sure, I have a good tine here. Lots of good friends,
you know.
Sometimes we play that Italian game we call
'butch.' It's a funny name. It's some like bowling, but
you play it outdoors. In the Old Country everybody played
It. They brought the game over hero with them. We play
cards, sure. Lots of cards. Sometimes we play poker, just
a small friendly game. Another game of cards we play is
tscoppa.1 That's a nice game.
"I don't drink so much no more. Only Saturday nights
sometimes. I like beer and whisky, sure. But 'vino,'
that's my best drink. I like the wine. I don't like the
grappa. Yost Italians do, but not me. I'm a real Wop but
I don't like the grappa. You have to drink some if you
work with granite. The damn silica kills you anyway. All
the stonecutters like to drink. Men that work hard like
they work have to drink. They all die young. You're no
cood to live if you live lone enough with cranite. They
know what it is, the stonecutters. Like me, they might
lauch at it. But they know,.
"Ttr. in my forties now. But I ain't cot muck dust in
my end of the shed. Not so much silica for me. If you
want to make bic money in Eranite you cot to cet silica.
And that means you die young if you cet enouch.
"But not me. No, no, no, not me. I don't die yet.
I ain't cot any money."