[An Italian Shed Owner]

Tomasi, Mary, Tonazzi, Mr

United States, Montpelier, Washington County, Vermont

1940-08-12

6

wpalh002709

emigration and immigrationitalian americansminersnarratives

Document text

Tari Tomasi
Recorded in
Writers' Section File:,
AN ITALIAA SIILD 0`4111:11
About a dozen sheds are strung along the banks of the river
in the lower stoneshed section. For the most part they are well
kept and prosperous looking, but the inevitable dreariness of
storm and dust pervades the scene. Opposite the last sLed on
a knoll across the cement road is a red brick house. There is
a carved urn on the step landing.
"I had it built when I bought that shed over there," U.
Tornazzi said with a wave of his hand towards the long spraw1iaL
building. "Years aEo shads were built circular, for convenience.
,Tet an entire circle, but about two-thirds. There are still a
few left. The travellinE cranes we have now are fast doing away
with then. Those days they had stationary boom derricks that
swung around and took granite blocks off the railroad cars.
There were many openings in these circular sheds, the derrick
left the stone at the opening where it was wanted. That meadow
w:-,cre my shed stands was called the Douglas meadow. Granite
non still speak of sheds beinc located in certain meadows.
Dachelorls meadow, burnham's meadow, Smith's. They used to hay
on tie meLdow next to my shed; as the granite business :re%
t:2 meadow was converted into sites for stonesheds.
"I was bf)rn in lAlveno, Italy. Ilatts in northern Italy
near Laie;c ,.tore. I studied sculpturin6 eight years, and
craduated from the heal° Academia of belle Arte di rera in
I worked in the northern provinces for two years and

2*
spent one year in Saragossa, Spain. There's always a demand
for good carvers in both Italy and Spain. Not only for memorials
but for buildings* The architecture in those countries is much
more ornate than here in the States. That's why talented young
men who could afford it trained at good art academies. The
schools emphasised fine, delicate carving. But the pay for good
carving is less. When I was over there last year, the average
worker was getting around $3*00 a day, bore he gets over $6*00.
And the living expenses aren't any cheaper. I'd beard about
the granite industry in the Barre district and I decided to try
my luck over here. I came over about forty years ago on a French
boat from Havre, France. French boats were popular in those
days. Today most of the Italians come over on Italian boats.
"When I got to Barre I found that some or these specially
trained artists were conducting night classes for stonecutters
in the old Aqua Pura building. It cost little, and many young
fellows took advantage of this school. In those days stonecutters
who did fine, artistic work were called Istatte cutters"; the
less skilled were known as 'stone masons.' Since then Barre
has had various training schools. In 1911 the Granite Cutters'
Union held night school for draftsmen and modelers. I didn't
start operating a shed of my own right away, although I could
have. I wanted to learn more of this country and the way the sheds
did business. I did carving for a shed in Barre the first year.
The second year I went out to our western granite States. I
could compare the two localities then, and the granite. I found
you could do better, more delicate w-ork with the hard Barre
stone, and I learned that it rated high in eastern markets and

was quickly becoming known further west, so I decided to settle
in or near Barre*
"My brother, who had come to this country tao years before
I did, suggested that we start a shed of our own* We did*
That was back in '11* We've had our ups and downs as every bus-
iness has, but we've made money and we've put out plenty of
memorials that we're proud of. Twelve years ago my brother died
of stonecutters' T.B.
"I married* My daughter says it's like a story in a book*
From Eavre I eame to Uew York; and from there, direct to Barre*
Passing through the town in the train, my first impression was
not unlike that of several small industrial communities .in Italy,
France and Spain. Small stores, back yard washing, a town that
was very much lived in. Not of the size nor grandeur of Milan
Where I studied. But a live, thriving town in the center of
hills, like my home town. I'd hardly stepped off the train when
I heard my brother calling, "Ciacomot Giacomo'," There he was
waiting for me on the platform, and beside him was a pretty
girl, red-obeeked and very slim* I must have stared at her
like a country fool* She mumbled a goodbye to my brother and
hurried away*
"Carlo, my brother, was eager to hear the news from the
old country. how were the parents, and the sister! Did I have
a good trip? I'm afraid I answered him briefly* I was int-
erested in the girl* Who was she? Was she already married?
Per name was S1 Carlo told me. She was born in Barre and
educated there* Her parents are Italian* She worked in a mill-
inery shop on Main Street* For a week I made it my business to

4
pass that milliner's store every day. I saw her, and she saw
me. She wouldn't even smile. I didn't have the courage to
speak to her. I finally persuaded my brother to introduce us.
We were married the following year. It wasn't a Homan Catholic
service, just a civil ceremony. Ilaals people had already broken
from the church before they left the old country. We have one
daughter. She went to the public schools here and to a finiih-
ing school on the Hudson. She's married to an Irish boy from
Barre. Uels here with us now learning the granite. business.
Some day the business will be his and my daughter's.
'There isn't the profit in the business that there 'used
to be. In the old days a roof over the head* a good oapver*
and good granite were about all that were necessary. Now there'll
too much overhead. Three or four taxes a year, methinery* and
that expensive dust removing equipment. Today* too* much of
our granite is sent out unfinished. The customer has it finished
in his own locality. That's why our relipy good carvers are
thinning out. There isn't the demand for them that there used
to be. I have a quarry over at Groton, it hasn't been operating
for a dozen years or so. It's good granite, but to supply only
my own shed I found it more profitable to buy from the large
Barre quarries.
'My favorite memorial, and what I believe Is my master-
piece, is one of my early statues. It's called The Little
Margaret* and stands in the Green Mountain Cemetery in Mont-
pelier. There's a story to that, too. This customer wanted
me to carve a statue of his little daughter who was dead. I'd
never seen the girl. Her family produced full length picture

>5.*
of her and asked me to make the statue identical in clothing,
posture, and so forth. I said it mould be difficult since the
picture was a poor one, and faint, but I'd do my best. I cam
plated it, and Itall proud of it. The parents liked it, too. I
remember the mother cried and said it looked real. But in spite
of their satisfaction they hated to pay the price agreed upon.
admit it was a steep price, but it was good work, and hard,
and they could afford it. Anywey„ the father came to me one
day. Ee pointed to the picture and said, 'Look, you promised
to make the statue exactly like this pioture. You didn't. On
the memorial there's a button missing on one shoe,. Since they
aren't identical you should lover the price.' It made me mad.
I'd been very careful in carving those shoes, they were old
fashioned, high buttoned shoes the girls wore at that time, and
since the picture was so dim I'd been careful to make sure of
each detail. 'They are identical,' I told him. I held a mag-
nifying glass over the picture and sure enough it shoved one
button missing on the shoe. Well, the short of it is the man
stopped quibbling and paid the price I'd asked. Another one
of my best big jobs is the statue of Christ the Shepherd, in
Chicago. This is one of my favorite pieces,' he said, point-
ing to a delicately sculptured 'Grace' about fourteen inches
high, tiptoeing on a pedestal at the foot of the curved stairway.
'Of late I haven't done much carving. I have enough to
do taking care of the business end of the shed. Strikes are
bad for both the shed owner and the workers. I've lost customers
because of contracts for memorials that fall due during a strike
period. If the stone isn't delivered on the day called for in

fie
the contract, they can refuse to accept it. There have been
times When I've been tempted to work the shed scab, but I fin-
ally decide that it isn't worth while.*