Dec 12 2018: Note new version posted on this blog.
|The Fore River Bridge, WPA, 1936.|
Flying out of Boston after a conference in Cambridge. Theory theory theory, and Eve talking about spanking. Also there was a talk about the amygdala. ("The amygdala receives inputs from all senses as well as visceral inputs.")
The plane leaving Logan swooped so low over the South Shore, I could see Ma's laundry on the line -- her polyester pants, her dish towels. Across the inlet from the back of our house, the shipyard and the Proctor and Gamble stacks. Sometimes the air was so thick with the smell of Ivory Soap, I'd gag. "That's not pollution," Ma would scoff. "That's clean."
In the ship's manifest for the Giuseppe Verdi on which my mother's parents traveled from Palermo to Ellis Island in 1924, there is a column where they note whether this or that Sicilian was dark, fair, swarthy, yellow, whatever; a place to indicate the tone of the complexion of each immigrant (a category that doesn't appear on the manifests of ships that came from Ireland, like the Scythia on which my father's mother arrived from Cobh that same year). There's also a place to note any identifying marks on the face of the Italians from the South; an unusual number of men had scars on their faces. Anarchists had blown up Salutation Street in the North End and many other targets, and all Italians were suspect. Most of the Sicilians on the ship are deemed dark white, but there must have been an argument on board about my mother's mother; "fair" is noted, then crossed out.
There is a drawbridge between our house and the shipyard and soap factory. Ma says her father, a cement mason from Salemi, worked on it for the WPA in 1936. He was a tyrant, they say; volcanic.
In Sicily he and my grandmother grew up near Erice. A volcano and goddesses and work, that's the heritage. When my mother's father was a baby in the province of Trapani, Emily Dickinson was still alive in Amherst (her father: "Vesuvius at home").
A Rose is an Estate
At sunset, washing the dishes and looking north, I thought the black Ivory smokestacks against the sky were beautiful. We all did.
|Kerry girl, Boston Public Gardens|
For Denise Leto and Alice Lyons
The General Dynamics shipyard in Quincy, Massachusetts (mentioned above) is what you see in the banner image for this blog. This and other images here come from the Library of Congress archives. They are in the pubic domain and belong to us.