Coming to Cuse: A podcast about immigrating to the Salt City

This transcript has been lightly edited for clarity

Ralph Rotella: It was a 1970, we were in Calabria in Italy. So before us, my grandma and grandpa came to America. So where we come from, we did not have too many jobs. So they decide that someday they’ll call us from America say why don’t you guys come over here because we got jobs. We didn’t have too much money. Day by day we had money to eat, but not feel comfortable.

Arwen Parmelee: This is Coming to Cuse, a podcast about immigrating to the Salt City. I’m Arwen Parmelee. Ralph Rotella owns Discount Shoe Repair in downtown Syracuse. He has been fixing shoes for more than 55 years. We spoke to Ralph about immigrating to the United States from Italy in 1970 when he was 16 years old.

Rotella: So we decided to come over. So everybody pitched in, put some money – my uncle and everybody asked for the trip. So we got here, and it was a nice ride. I remember from our hometown we had to take a train to get to Naples, get in the boat and go across the ocean. We were in a sea that was nice and calm. But when we got to the ocean, Atlantic Ocean, oh, mamma mia: the waves, got sick pretty bad. It’s not that different – remember the movie “Titanic”? Same idea: you had the first class, second class, we had third class. We were all the way to the bottom and you can feel the water on the bottom. But we can’t complain. We had food, we had a bed, it was OK. I wish we were in first class, but we can’t afford first class, so we were with third class.

Wow, it was different, because we come into Syracuse and we went in the house – we stayed with the grandparents for a couple months, five, six months, before we get our own house because you’ve got to find a place to stay. So we stayed with them six, seven months. I said, “Grandpa, when are we going to go to our house?” “What do you mean? This is our house. What do you mean?” Because in America, all the houses are made out of wood, 90% out of wood. In Italy everything was made out of concrete and stone.

I figure when grandpa and grandma says in America you have a better opportunity – and he was right. I came in over here and he was a shoe repairman. He took me in, he teach me everything I know, watching him. And that’s where I learned to watch somebody else, but sometimes even myself, the stuff he never did himself I taught myself.

So not too many shoe repairmen left. I got people in Utica that come and see me, Herkimer, Water Town, Massena. I mean, they come from everywhere. And especially from Utica, some days I get more people from Utica than anything else. I’ve been there 13 years and I like it because every time I go someplace, I go shopping: “Ralph, how are you? Oh, God bless, you do a good job.” And it makes me feel good. So they told me, why don’t you expand this? Oh, no, no. When I’m done, I’m done. I’m 71, I should be retired, you know that. I’m still young, I’m 29. Come on, give me a break. I forgot, 29 plus all the nights, all the daytime. I work for the people because I got a little pension, I could be OK, but what am I going to do at home, watching TV?

You got to be nice to people. You depend on people. If you’re not nice, they won’t come back. So even sometimes if even they’re wrong, they’re right. That’s my policy. Yes, I’m sorry, you’re right. Since I’ve been to Syracuse, I’ve fixed all the mayor’s shoes. Started from Lee Alexander, that was in ‘70, all the mayors, they always come over here to fix their shoes. Not the new one yet, but the old one until last year, we fix them all.

Dancing shoes, ballerina shoes, I’ve fixed all the shoes for “Wicked,” for “The Lion King.” They come over and fix. And I fixed a pair of shoes for Kiss. Sometime when the heels is broke, I put on whole new heels. Louis Vuitton. You heard of Louis Vuitton? And the heels come apart and I put it together and I touch it up nice. Put little glue here. And they come over – “Wow! That’s beautiful. Let me give you a hug.” So, no problem. They will say, “You did a beautiful job. Do it again.” That’s what they say.

In the end they say, “Hey Rafael, what a beautiful job you did on my shoes. Bella.” They are very excited. You know people that got expensive shoes and when I’m done they look pretty damn good. Even myself sometimes I say, “Wow, that I do that? I cannot believe it.” I feel like an angel. To be me. Let it be me. You like what you do, right? So I like what I’m doing. I’ve been doing this for 55 years, I got to like it, right?

As a matter of fact, I just fixed this guy’s boots. His father passed away and “Please, Ralph, you got to.” They were so bad. “Please, Ralph, you’ve got to do. Just somehow put them together best you can, because my father – I ain’t going to wear them, I just want to put them on display to remember my father.” And last week, this guy brought a pair of shoes. He was in a war, the Desert Storm. You heard of the Desert Storm war? He said, “Ralph, please, no matter what, I know they’re pretty bad, but you got to put them together because I wear those in the Desert Storm and I want to keep this forever because I did a lot of walking and they saved my feet.” So I put a whole new bottom.

So last year we collected 45,000 pairs for the needy. I’m happy because every year I do my shoe drive. We’ve been doing that for 15 years and I feel so good to give to the community something back. To be honest with you, I’m very lucky. I got a nice house, nice business, I got a new car every few years and I take a little trip here and there, like now, next week, I’m going to Dubai. I always wanted to go there. So, I mean, I got everything I want in this country. I got a nice wife, nice son, whatever she says, I say, “Yes, dear.” Even if she’s wrong, she’s always right.

Sometimes I miss my friends, we grew up together. But when I go back there, the last time when I went back, they recognized me. It was 20 years later I went back, and they said, “Rafael, hey, come stai? Non ti ricordo. You remember me?”

I said, “Oh, no.” It’s 20 years because I was 16. So you change face, some they had beards, some they had bald. “I’m Thomas, remember we went to school together.” So, oh, Thomas, OK. We had Thomas, Joseph and Mario. I always remember my three buddies, we’d hang out together. But we were 15, what the hell did we know about anything? So we just play like kids, you know?

So, once in a blue moon I hear, “Ralph, Ralph, what’s going on? How’s everything?” We never broke the accent. We still talk broken English. “Ralph, how are you? What’s going on?” Oh, it’s so funny. Once in a while, you know, we have a good time.

It’s good to be Italian. It’s good to be Italian. Like, you love your generation, right? And I love to be an Italian. Fifty-five years ago, so now everything has changed. When I went back the last time they had everything now. But that’s OK. I’m happy here. I’m not complaining. I’m proud to be Italian, really. I don’t know why. Because we are a nice culture. We’re handsome, we cute, we like to make people smile. So Italian people and then the voice, the Italian language is so sweet: like say, “Ti amo, mio amore, bella mia.” Isn’t that so sweet? As long as you got a good heart and a good soul, you’re OK. You are Italian, America, whatever you want to be.

Parmelee: Coming to Cuse is a production of students at the S.I. Newhouse School of Public Communications at Syracuse University. This episode was reported and produced by Arwen Parmelee and Sofia Kissel.