Giacomo (Lolli) Petris and Zita Biagi
Birth: 16 Oct 1900, Zoppola, Italy
Father: Giovanni Battista Petris Mother: Rosa Taiariol
Death: 17 Jun 1970, San Francisco, San Francisco, California, United States
Father: Giovanni Battista Petris Mother: Rosa Taiariol
Death: 17 Jun 1970, San Francisco, San Francisco, California, United States
Spouse: Zita Veronica Biagi
Birth: 23 Aug 1913, Nichols, Contra Costa, California, USA
Death: 25 May 2012, South San Francisco, CA
Father: Pietro Mariano Biagi (~1870-1951)
Mother: Lucia Michelis (1883-1923)
Children: Maxine Rose (1937-2011)
Ronald Eugene (1942-1962)
Birth: 23 Aug 1913, Nichols, Contra Costa, California, USA
Death: 25 May 2012, South San Francisco, CA
Father: Pietro Mariano Biagi (~1870-1951)
Mother: Lucia Michelis (1883-1923)
Children: Maxine Rose (1937-2011)
Ronald Eugene (1942-1962)
Giorgio Amante Petris was born on October 16, 1900, to Giobatta Petris, a tenant-farmer, and Rosa Taiariòl, a homemaker. Named after his fourth great=grandfather, Giorgio was commonly known as Lolli. According to one family member, that was the name of his childhood dog, but who knows? He was the sixth child born to the family, but two of his siblings had died before he was born, another died when he was ten, and a third disappeared after the War. By the age of 16, that left him as the second eldest child behind his brother Giacomo (aka Jack). But where Jack turned to despair and alcoholism, Giorgio learned early that life was a fragile gift and that he should savor it.
Giorgio’s early life would have been similar to nearly anyone of his class in Zoppola—grueling and tedious, but with a loving home life. He worked the fields with his father and brothers, went to Church every Sunday and holy days, and attended school to the 4th grade. This tough but dependable life was disrupted in 1915 when Italy entered The Great War on the side of the Allies. Giorgio was just fifteen.
The Italian Army was led by General Luigi Cadorna who, like many of the generals of the First World War, favored massive frontal assaults and no defense. Defense was considered “unmanly.” The Italian Front was at the Isonzo River, the eastern boundary of Friuli. During Cadorna’s tenure as commander-in-Chief (1915 to 1917), there were eleven battles on the Isonzo—all frontal, uphill assaults by the Italians that gained very little ground. Many Zoppolani served on the Isonzo front. As the Italian Army was preparing for their 12th Battle of Isonzo, the Austrians, supported by fresh German troops newly transferred from the now-quiet Russian Front, launched a preemptive strike on October 24, 1917. The Battle of Caporetto, as it came to be known, is considered to be the greatest disaster in Italian military history. The whole front collapsed, and the Tedeschi (as the Friulani called the Germans) pushed all the way to the Piave River on the west edge of Friuli. In all, 40,000 soldiers were killed or wounded and 265,000 were captured. Cadorna was dismissed and replaced by Armando Diaz, who reorganized the army, improved morale, and led Italy to decisive victories, including the final triumph at Vittorio Veneto, ending the war for Italy.
Before the Battle of Caporetto, Zoppolani led the same grueling and tedious lives, more or less, that they had before. While the direct effect of the War was minimal, the indirect effect of having many sons in the Army and not in the fields was a double gut punch that increased everyone’s workload and heightened everyone’s anxiety of their sons and neighbors. The Petris’ oldest son, Geremia, had chosen to heed the call of Ricciotti Garibaldi in 1914 and joined the French Foreign Legion to fight in the three Battles of the Ardenne. The Garibaldi Legion was only formed officially in November of 1914 and was disbanded in March of 1915 so the ex-patriots could return to Italy and join the Italian Army once it had officially entered the War. Geremia seems to have chosen to stay and continue to fight in France.
After the Battle of Caporetto, Zoppola became an occupied territory and a grim place under the Tedeschi. Years later, Palmira Quattrin remembered that soldiers were billeted in the homes of the citizenry, and that the soldiers “slept on the floors in the hallway, were dirty, and had lice.” The whole family of twelve had to live in one bedroom as the officers took the other rooms. The Petrises most likely also served as unwilling hosts.
Food became harder and harder to come by. Tools were confiscated as potential weapons. Farming became even more difficult than before, and the grain yield suffered. After roughly nine months of occupation, the Tedeshi pulled out of Zoppola. The soldiers took everything they could lay their hands on. On November 11, 1918, an armistice was signed between the Germans and the Allies, and the Great War was over.
At the age of 20, Giorgio could have been drafted into the Italian Army. Two years of military service were compulsory, and all men served. The Kingdom of Italy aspired to a pertinent, if not preeminent role in Europe and as a colonial power abroad. Soldiers from Friuli, especially the Alpini, were known for their individual bravery, resilience, and fighting skills—a reputation often in contrast to the broader perception of the Italian military. We do not know for certain if Giorgio served or not, but we are still looking for records.
In 1922, Giorgio’s brother Giacomo went to California. A year later, Giorgio escorted his sister-in-law Maria Lenardon to reunite with Giacomo. They boarded the Conte Rosso in Genoa and made the 7– to 10–day journey to New York.
Giorgio’s early life would have been similar to nearly anyone of his class in Zoppola—grueling and tedious, but with a loving home life. He worked the fields with his father and brothers, went to Church every Sunday and holy days, and attended school to the 4th grade. This tough but dependable life was disrupted in 1915 when Italy entered The Great War on the side of the Allies. Giorgio was just fifteen.
The Italian Army was led by General Luigi Cadorna who, like many of the generals of the First World War, favored massive frontal assaults and no defense. Defense was considered “unmanly.” The Italian Front was at the Isonzo River, the eastern boundary of Friuli. During Cadorna’s tenure as commander-in-Chief (1915 to 1917), there were eleven battles on the Isonzo—all frontal, uphill assaults by the Italians that gained very little ground. Many Zoppolani served on the Isonzo front. As the Italian Army was preparing for their 12th Battle of Isonzo, the Austrians, supported by fresh German troops newly transferred from the now-quiet Russian Front, launched a preemptive strike on October 24, 1917. The Battle of Caporetto, as it came to be known, is considered to be the greatest disaster in Italian military history. The whole front collapsed, and the Tedeschi (as the Friulani called the Germans) pushed all the way to the Piave River on the west edge of Friuli. In all, 40,000 soldiers were killed or wounded and 265,000 were captured. Cadorna was dismissed and replaced by Armando Diaz, who reorganized the army, improved morale, and led Italy to decisive victories, including the final triumph at Vittorio Veneto, ending the war for Italy.
Before the Battle of Caporetto, Zoppolani led the same grueling and tedious lives, more or less, that they had before. While the direct effect of the War was minimal, the indirect effect of having many sons in the Army and not in the fields was a double gut punch that increased everyone’s workload and heightened everyone’s anxiety of their sons and neighbors. The Petris’ oldest son, Geremia, had chosen to heed the call of Ricciotti Garibaldi in 1914 and joined the French Foreign Legion to fight in the three Battles of the Ardenne. The Garibaldi Legion was only formed officially in November of 1914 and was disbanded in March of 1915 so the ex-patriots could return to Italy and join the Italian Army once it had officially entered the War. Geremia seems to have chosen to stay and continue to fight in France.
After the Battle of Caporetto, Zoppola became an occupied territory and a grim place under the Tedeschi. Years later, Palmira Quattrin remembered that soldiers were billeted in the homes of the citizenry, and that the soldiers “slept on the floors in the hallway, were dirty, and had lice.” The whole family of twelve had to live in one bedroom as the officers took the other rooms. The Petrises most likely also served as unwilling hosts.
Food became harder and harder to come by. Tools were confiscated as potential weapons. Farming became even more difficult than before, and the grain yield suffered. After roughly nine months of occupation, the Tedeshi pulled out of Zoppola. The soldiers took everything they could lay their hands on. On November 11, 1918, an armistice was signed between the Germans and the Allies, and the Great War was over.
At the age of 20, Giorgio could have been drafted into the Italian Army. Two years of military service were compulsory, and all men served. The Kingdom of Italy aspired to a pertinent, if not preeminent role in Europe and as a colonial power abroad. Soldiers from Friuli, especially the Alpini, were known for their individual bravery, resilience, and fighting skills—a reputation often in contrast to the broader perception of the Italian military. We do not know for certain if Giorgio served or not, but we are still looking for records.
In 1922, Giorgio’s brother Giacomo went to California. A year later, Giorgio escorted his sister-in-law Maria Lenardon to reunite with Giacomo. They boarded the Conte Rosso in Genoa and made the 7– to 10–day journey to New York.
Built in Scotland in 1921, the ship was named after Amadeus VII, Count of Savoy. It was the first new transatlantic liner built after World War I. The ship was known for its lavish Italian interior decor and an unusual outdoor dining area designed for warmer waters. It is doubtful that Giorgio and Maria ever saw the first-class areas of the ship. The Conte Rosso provided transatlantic passenger transport between Italy and New York City before being transferred to service between Italy and South America. During World War II, it was used as a troop ship by the Italian government until it was sunk by a Royal Navy submarine in May 1941.
The Conte Rosso entered New York harbor on July 19, 1923. The passenger list describes Giorgio—or George, as he was now called in America—as 5’ 7” (though his 1942 draft registration card said 5’ 9 ½” and 187 lbs, which is probably more accurate), with brown hair, brown eyes, and a natural complexion. He had $25 in his pockets with which to buy a train ticket to Kingsburg to meet Jack. His stated intent was to stay for 5 years, but he never went home again. Ironically, Jack’s stated intent was to never return home, but he went back to Zoppola in 1948 to see his mother before she died.
It is unclear where George was living and working in the mid 1920s. His obituary says he came to Nichols in 1923, but we know he went to Kingsburg first. Family lore has it that he worked in the silver mines in Nevada for a while. He arrived in Nichols by 1928 at the latest and worked as an “acid Burner.”
The Conte Rosso entered New York harbor on July 19, 1923. The passenger list describes Giorgio—or George, as he was now called in America—as 5’ 7” (though his 1942 draft registration card said 5’ 9 ½” and 187 lbs, which is probably more accurate), with brown hair, brown eyes, and a natural complexion. He had $25 in his pockets with which to buy a train ticket to Kingsburg to meet Jack. His stated intent was to stay for 5 years, but he never went home again. Ironically, Jack’s stated intent was to never return home, but he went back to Zoppola in 1948 to see his mother before she died.
It is unclear where George was living and working in the mid 1920s. His obituary says he came to Nichols in 1923, but we know he went to Kingsburg first. Family lore has it that he worked in the silver mines in Nevada for a while. He arrived in Nichols by 1928 at the latest and worked as an “acid Burner.”
An acid burner was actually the piece of equipment George (and Poldi Quattrin) operated. In Nichols, part of General Chemicals’ plant was dedicated to sulfuric acid regeneration. That is, they recovered used sulfuric acid in order to prevent the disposal of hazardous waste and reduce reliance on new materials. In this process, concentrated used sulfuric acid is atomized with compressed air inside a decomposition furnace, where it is heated to 1000–1200°C. The heat thermally cracks the 𝐻2𝑆𝑂4 into sulfur dioxide gas (𝑆𝑂2) and steam (𝐻2𝑂). The 𝑆𝑂2 is then cooled, cleaned, and converted back into high-purity sulfuric acid. At Nichols, the 𝑆𝑂2 was then used as a component of fertilizer.
The job of an acid burner in 1930 was highly dangerous due to significant occupational hazards, limited safety regulations, and inadequate protective equipment. Workers in industries using strong acids like sulfuric or muriatic (hydrochloric) acid faced serious risks from chemical burns, toxic fumes, and explosions. As far as is known, George never had an accident beyond the constant burn holes in his clothes. When his nephew Battista became a supply sergeant at Camp Stoneman in the late 1940s, he supplied his Zio Lolli (as George was known among family and friends) and Zio Poldi with used overalls to where to work. Lolli was very good at his job and, by 1940, he was listed as a “Curate operator.” Though not a standard industry title, this seems to have meant he was something like a shop steward among the acid burners. His duties might have included training junior staff, optimizing production, and ensuring the final product meets exact specifications.
The job of an acid burner in 1930 was highly dangerous due to significant occupational hazards, limited safety regulations, and inadequate protective equipment. Workers in industries using strong acids like sulfuric or muriatic (hydrochloric) acid faced serious risks from chemical burns, toxic fumes, and explosions. As far as is known, George never had an accident beyond the constant burn holes in his clothes. When his nephew Battista became a supply sergeant at Camp Stoneman in the late 1940s, he supplied his Zio Lolli (as George was known among family and friends) and Zio Poldi with used overalls to where to work. Lolli was very good at his job and, by 1940, he was listed as a “Curate operator.” Though not a standard industry title, this seems to have meant he was something like a shop steward among the acid burners. His duties might have included training junior staff, optimizing production, and ensuring the final product meets exact specifications.
The picture above of the Quattrin and Petris brothers was taken in late 1925 or early 1926 in San Francisco. Seated from left to right are Jack Petris, his son Ovidio (Blackie), Jack’s wife Maria, their younger son Robert, and George/Lolli. Standing are Andrea Quattrin on the left and Poldi Quattrin on the right. The men dressed up in their three-piece suits and Maria in her fashionable ensemble were clearly trying to impress the family back home with how well they were doing. But all was not as it seemed. Andrea was just about to give up on his dream of a farm and orchard in Lemoore with his cousin Antonio Colussi and go back home to Zoppola to marry. Poldi had settled into a good job working for General Chemical in Nichols, but he was also about to embark on an ill-fated marriage to a 15-year-old American-born girl of Italian descent. Jack was becoming more frustrated with work and was drinking more than he should. George seems to have been doing the best at the time, having also settled into a job at General Chemical. He was also about to look up in a tree and see the girl to whom he would be married for the rest of his life.
Zita Veronica Biagi was the child of Pietro Biagi, a chemical plant worker from Pontremoli, Massa, Italy, and Lucia Michelis, from Cuneo, Piemonte, Italy. Lucia had been married to Matteo Danna and had three children from her first marriage. Zita, born on August 13, 1913 in Nichols, California, was the first of four children of Lucia’s second marriage. Zita attended the Nichols School. She is second row center in this picture from 1922 (to the left). The town of Nichols, California, was a company town built by the Nichols Phosphate Mining Company in 1909. All residents worked for the General Chemical Company and rented houses owned by the Company.
Zita used to race her siblings home from school each day, but she never won. On September 25, 1923, for some reason, she got home first, only to find her mother sitting in a chair in the kitchen clutching a cup to a bullet wound in the left breast. She had apparently shot herself and was trying not to leave a mess behind. Her ten-month-old son was the only other person in the house. The children got the company doctor and head nurse to the house, and they worked on Lucia for four hours before she was finally stable enough to transport to the hospital. She was expected to recover, but Lucia died in the hospital three weeks later, likely from sepsis and despair. The family came to believe that the issue was post-partem depression, but there does seem to have been underlying causes. Lucia apparently had been arrested twice previously, once on a charge of insanity and once for possession of liquor (during Prohibition), but the cases were dropped. She never admitted to shooting herself, but she told the sheriff where they could find the gun hidden behind the dinner plates in the kitchen cabinet. Zita was only ten years old.
Zita used to race her siblings home from school each day, but she never won. On September 25, 1923, for some reason, she got home first, only to find her mother sitting in a chair in the kitchen clutching a cup to a bullet wound in the left breast. She had apparently shot herself and was trying not to leave a mess behind. Her ten-month-old son was the only other person in the house. The children got the company doctor and head nurse to the house, and they worked on Lucia for four hours before she was finally stable enough to transport to the hospital. She was expected to recover, but Lucia died in the hospital three weeks later, likely from sepsis and despair. The family came to believe that the issue was post-partem depression, but there does seem to have been underlying causes. Lucia apparently had been arrested twice previously, once on a charge of insanity and once for possession of liquor (during Prohibition), but the cases were dropped. She never admitted to shooting herself, but she told the sheriff where they could find the gun hidden behind the dinner plates in the kitchen cabinet. Zita was only ten years old.
Despite this early tragedy, Zita’s personality was energetic, vivacious, and social. She was a leader among her peers and always “large and in charge.” In 1926, she formed the Nassaki (“foot of the mountain”) Troop of the Camp Fire Girls of America. The Camp Fire Girls was the first nonsectarian, multicultural organization for girls in America and was created in 1910 in Vermont as the sister organization to the Boy Scouts. The other 12 Nichols girls elected Zita to the position of Troop President. Though her daughter Maxine was not in the organization, both Zita’s granddaughters Cathy and Cindy would become Camp Fire Girls.
Zita graduated from the Nichols School on June 9, 1927, and went on to attend Mount Diablo High. As a freshman, she was an honors student. She would only stay in high school through her sophomore year.
Zita graduated from the Nichols School on June 9, 1927, and went on to attend Mount Diablo High. As a freshman, she was an honors student. She would only stay in high school through her sophomore year.
For a sleepy, little company town, the railroad crossing at Nichols had its share of action in the late 1920s. On April 25, 1926, Poldi Quattrin was driving with three friends near the railroad crossing when his car was struck by a drunk driver and driven into a ditch, causing minor injuries and nearly $1800 worth of damage to his car. On March 12, 1926, 40-year-old Nichols School Principal Taza Hughes was killed when her car was struck by the Santa Fe train cowcatcher, smashing the auto and dragging it for 1000 feet before the train could be brought to a stop. (A jury exonerated the railroad of blame—no surprise in California at the time.)
On April 21, 1927, it was George and Zita’s turn, though their accident happened near Antioch. Having borrowed Luciano Zilli’s car to take his girlfriend and her sister for a ride, George lost control and flipped the car over. He and Zita’s sister Maria escaped with slight scratches and bruises, but Zita had scalp lacerations and a broken arm. Her father sued Luciano Zilli and won $40 for medical expenses.
On April 21, 1927, it was George and Zita’s turn, though their accident happened near Antioch. Having borrowed Luciano Zilli’s car to take his girlfriend and her sister for a ride, George lost control and flipped the car over. He and Zita’s sister Maria escaped with slight scratches and bruises, but Zita had scalp lacerations and a broken arm. Her father sued Luciano Zilli and won $40 for medical expenses.
George and Zita married on September 22, 1929. He was 29, and she was 16. They moved into the two-bedroom, one-bath house next door to Zita’s father and siblings. Being an unincorporate town completely owned by General Chemical, the streets did not have names nor did the houses have numbers. The 1950 US Census gave their address as “House T-17, North of Highway 2nd Street East on Right Side of Street.” It did not even name the town as Nichols, just Unincorporated Township 16. The 1930 US Census showed that they rented the house for $18 per month, that George could speak English and had put in his first papers for naturalization. His occupation was listed as “acid burner.”
All 320 men on duty that night were killed instantly. Both ships and the structures around the pier were completely destroyed, and the blast smashed buildings and rail cars near the pier. Every building in Port Chicago was damaged. A pillar of fire and smoke stretched more than two miles into the sky above Port Chicago. Then debris and unexploded munitions began to rain down on the town and beyond.
In Nichols, all the windows in town were smashed, scattering glass throughout the homes. Lil said they had tar paper for windows for months until new windows could be sent delivered. Living inside those dark, muggy houses in midsummer must have been like living deep in a mine. Also, there were daily small explosions as the undetonated munitions were found and detonated as a safety measure. Lil said, “Live ammunition was all over the place, so we were always hearing explosions going off. The explosions continued for a couple of weeks, but we got used to it.”
The disaster sparked controversy in its aftermath:
It was determined that inadequate training, hazardous conditions, and irresponsible labor practices contributed to the disaster. Many of the surviving sailors felt that their commanders had not properly addressed these issues when they asked them to continue to work. In response, they protested with a work stoppage.
Although no violence or threat of violence occurred, the Navy viewed the work stoppage as a mutiny. In September 1944, the Navy charged 50 of the Port Chicago sailors with disobeying orders and initiating a mutiny. A court-martial found them guilty in October.
https://www.military.com/history/port-chicago-disaster-remembered.html
Eighty years later, in 2024, the Navy officially exonerated the 50 sailors. It was acknowledged that their refusal to work was a protest against unsafe conditions and that the original trial was unjust.
The town of Port Chicago no longer exists. In 1968, all the Port Chicago property was acquired, and the buildings were demolished by the federal government to form a safety zone around the adjacent Concord Naval Weapons Station loading docks.
According to his obituary, Lolli was a member of the International Chemical Workers Union (ICWU). Though attempts to organize the industry began as early as 1836 with the Soap Boilers and Tallow Chandlers in Philadelphia, the chemical workers did not really become unionized until much later because the industry in America was so small. The American Federation of Labor (AFL) assigned one of its staff members to start signing up workers in 1940. The first Council meeting was attended by 54 delegates from 42 federal labor unions in 19 states who represented some 10,000 workers in the industry. By the middle of 1944 the Council was made up of 161 locals with a membership of nearly 29,000. Part of the growth could be attributed directly to the fact that 12 locals in Canada, which had been part of another international union, voted to become members of the Council.
On September 11, 1944, AFL President William Green formally chartered the Council of Chemical and Allied Industries Union as the International Chemical Workers Union Council. Even though the new ICWU won its charter, the Union’s birth was not without difficulties as the United Mine Workers claimed jurisdiction over the chemical industry and its workers. The UMW was applying at the same time for reaffiliation with the AFL after having left the rival Congress of Industrial Organizations (CIO). Even though the AFL ignored the UMW’s claim, it did not relinquish its jurisdictional claims to the chemical workers. For years, fierce organizing battles between the two unions were fought. In addition to the ICWU and UMW, there was still another union which claimed primary jurisdiction in the chemical industry. This was the United Gas, Coke, and Chemical Workers, chartered by the CIO about the same time the ICWU was chartered by the AFL. As a result of this three-way division of organization, unionism in the industry has never exerted the influence that was possible in other industries where a single union predominated. Frequently, in the chemical industry, different plants of a multi-plant company are not organized by the same union.
While it thrived filling the needs of War’s Home Front, General Chemical experienced a general decline after the war. Competition stiffened, and company policies and facilities were neglected and became outdated. The town of Nichols slowly faded away as the company's operations declined though the 1950s. Workers moved out as government funding improved the roadways. The 2-3 miles trip from Ambrose to Nichols became a drive of less than 10 minutes. The company sold off land west of Ambrose to developers who build Shore Acres, a housing development that opened in 1952.
The town of Nichols was a small community, with a population of only about 200 people by 1954. In essence, Nichols was not erased overnight but slowly dissolved as its economic foundation (the phosphate plant) became unviable, leading to the dispersal of its residents and eventual closure of the community itself. The plant would not close until 1998, but the decline and disappearance of Nichols occurred much earlier. In January of 1960, residents were notified of the ending of the town's company housing program. The last of the community finally moved on after the plant closed, but the Petrises and Quattrins had left decades earlier.
1951 was an eventful year for the Petrises. In June, Maxine graduated from the Nichols School and, like her mother, went on to Mt Diablo High School. She would become an honor student, a lifetime member of the California Scholarship Federation, a member of Junior statesmen of America and class valedictorian. Maxine would later receive a Scholarship from the AAUW (American Association of University Women) to attend the University of San Francisco’s Nursing School. Another big event of the year was that, in September, Zita’s father Pete Biagi passed away. He was 82 years old. That same year, Lolli’s childhood friend Poldi Quattrin bought a lot in Ambrose, built his own house, and moved out of Nichols, though they continued to work together at Allied Chemical until they retired.
In late 1953, the Petrises also moved out of Nichols. Initially, they lived in Port Chicago where they lived at 18 Hedges Street, but by 1955 they had moved to Ambrose, to a house just two blocks from the Quattrins. By this time, Ambrose was already being called West Pittsburg. (Now it is known as Bay Point, which infuriates Lil, since Bay Point was a whole different place when she was growing up.) Though Lolli was capable of building his own house, they instead bought an existing house at 44 Hill Street. Built in 1948, it was a 1,465 sq ft, 3-bedroom, 1-bath single family dwelling on a 7,800 sq ft lot. Their grandson Michael, who now owns the house described it:
One of the standout features is a staircase off the main hallway that leads down to a cellar. Pretty creepy when we were kids! The upstairs is 1,200 sq.ft.; with the cellar, the total square footage is 1,465. There is a long, narrow driveway that leads to a detached garage. The backyard patio used to be covered, and it included an awesome brick BBQ, picnic tables, and a piano that my mom played. There is a covered porch on both the front and the left side of the house.
In Nichols, all the windows in town were smashed, scattering glass throughout the homes. Lil said they had tar paper for windows for months until new windows could be sent delivered. Living inside those dark, muggy houses in midsummer must have been like living deep in a mine. Also, there were daily small explosions as the undetonated munitions were found and detonated as a safety measure. Lil said, “Live ammunition was all over the place, so we were always hearing explosions going off. The explosions continued for a couple of weeks, but we got used to it.”
The disaster sparked controversy in its aftermath:
It was determined that inadequate training, hazardous conditions, and irresponsible labor practices contributed to the disaster. Many of the surviving sailors felt that their commanders had not properly addressed these issues when they asked them to continue to work. In response, they protested with a work stoppage.
Although no violence or threat of violence occurred, the Navy viewed the work stoppage as a mutiny. In September 1944, the Navy charged 50 of the Port Chicago sailors with disobeying orders and initiating a mutiny. A court-martial found them guilty in October.
https://www.military.com/history/port-chicago-disaster-remembered.html
Eighty years later, in 2024, the Navy officially exonerated the 50 sailors. It was acknowledged that their refusal to work was a protest against unsafe conditions and that the original trial was unjust.
The town of Port Chicago no longer exists. In 1968, all the Port Chicago property was acquired, and the buildings were demolished by the federal government to form a safety zone around the adjacent Concord Naval Weapons Station loading docks.
According to his obituary, Lolli was a member of the International Chemical Workers Union (ICWU). Though attempts to organize the industry began as early as 1836 with the Soap Boilers and Tallow Chandlers in Philadelphia, the chemical workers did not really become unionized until much later because the industry in America was so small. The American Federation of Labor (AFL) assigned one of its staff members to start signing up workers in 1940. The first Council meeting was attended by 54 delegates from 42 federal labor unions in 19 states who represented some 10,000 workers in the industry. By the middle of 1944 the Council was made up of 161 locals with a membership of nearly 29,000. Part of the growth could be attributed directly to the fact that 12 locals in Canada, which had been part of another international union, voted to become members of the Council.
On September 11, 1944, AFL President William Green formally chartered the Council of Chemical and Allied Industries Union as the International Chemical Workers Union Council. Even though the new ICWU won its charter, the Union’s birth was not without difficulties as the United Mine Workers claimed jurisdiction over the chemical industry and its workers. The UMW was applying at the same time for reaffiliation with the AFL after having left the rival Congress of Industrial Organizations (CIO). Even though the AFL ignored the UMW’s claim, it did not relinquish its jurisdictional claims to the chemical workers. For years, fierce organizing battles between the two unions were fought. In addition to the ICWU and UMW, there was still another union which claimed primary jurisdiction in the chemical industry. This was the United Gas, Coke, and Chemical Workers, chartered by the CIO about the same time the ICWU was chartered by the AFL. As a result of this three-way division of organization, unionism in the industry has never exerted the influence that was possible in other industries where a single union predominated. Frequently, in the chemical industry, different plants of a multi-plant company are not organized by the same union.
While it thrived filling the needs of War’s Home Front, General Chemical experienced a general decline after the war. Competition stiffened, and company policies and facilities were neglected and became outdated. The town of Nichols slowly faded away as the company's operations declined though the 1950s. Workers moved out as government funding improved the roadways. The 2-3 miles trip from Ambrose to Nichols became a drive of less than 10 minutes. The company sold off land west of Ambrose to developers who build Shore Acres, a housing development that opened in 1952.
The town of Nichols was a small community, with a population of only about 200 people by 1954. In essence, Nichols was not erased overnight but slowly dissolved as its economic foundation (the phosphate plant) became unviable, leading to the dispersal of its residents and eventual closure of the community itself. The plant would not close until 1998, but the decline and disappearance of Nichols occurred much earlier. In January of 1960, residents were notified of the ending of the town's company housing program. The last of the community finally moved on after the plant closed, but the Petrises and Quattrins had left decades earlier.
1951 was an eventful year for the Petrises. In June, Maxine graduated from the Nichols School and, like her mother, went on to Mt Diablo High School. She would become an honor student, a lifetime member of the California Scholarship Federation, a member of Junior statesmen of America and class valedictorian. Maxine would later receive a Scholarship from the AAUW (American Association of University Women) to attend the University of San Francisco’s Nursing School. Another big event of the year was that, in September, Zita’s father Pete Biagi passed away. He was 82 years old. That same year, Lolli’s childhood friend Poldi Quattrin bought a lot in Ambrose, built his own house, and moved out of Nichols, though they continued to work together at Allied Chemical until they retired.
In late 1953, the Petrises also moved out of Nichols. Initially, they lived in Port Chicago where they lived at 18 Hedges Street, but by 1955 they had moved to Ambrose, to a house just two blocks from the Quattrins. By this time, Ambrose was already being called West Pittsburg. (Now it is known as Bay Point, which infuriates Lil, since Bay Point was a whole different place when she was growing up.) Though Lolli was capable of building his own house, they instead bought an existing house at 44 Hill Street. Built in 1948, it was a 1,465 sq ft, 3-bedroom, 1-bath single family dwelling on a 7,800 sq ft lot. Their grandson Michael, who now owns the house described it:
One of the standout features is a staircase off the main hallway that leads down to a cellar. Pretty creepy when we were kids! The upstairs is 1,200 sq.ft.; with the cellar, the total square footage is 1,465. There is a long, narrow driveway that leads to a detached garage. The backyard patio used to be covered, and it included an awesome brick BBQ, picnic tables, and a piano that my mom played. There is a covered porch on both the front and the left side of the house.
Our Nonno had a work bench with tools in his garage. My only memories of him were when he was sick with emphysema, so I don't recall him working on any projects. However, I remember him keeping his vegetable garden and his fruit trees.
His sister Cindy added:
Nonno was good with tools. He built the trellises to grow his grapes for homemade wine. I believe he built the outdoor BBQ with his friends out of brick. I do remember being at their house when he replaced the bathroom vanity.
With a new address came new social connections. The Petrises became part of the Our Lady Queen of the World Parish in West Pittsburg. Lolli joined the Colombo Lodge of Antioch, Sons of Italy. He also began playing bocce ball at Ambrose Park on the courts build by Poldi Quattrin. Zita took a job as a cafeteria cook at Shore Acres Elementary School, where she developed a new set of friends and mutual card-enthusiasts.
In 1957, Lolli’s brother-in-law Andrea became sick with throat cancer. He died the next year. During that time, Emilia sent her preteen son Danny to stay with Lolli and Zita to “straighten him out.” Danny adored them despite Zita’s disciplinary style. As Cindy later said, “Noni was tough and would hit first and ask questions later. When we were young and being kids, she used to say ‘You kids need Vietnam!’” Only 4 years younger, Danny finally had a brother figure in Ronnie to whom he could relate. His actual brother, Battista, was 18 years older, and they did not have much in common until later in life. Danny idolized Ronnie and would later say that his times there in West Pittsburg were some of the best of his life. Ronnie was an honors student and valedictorian like his sister, though he went to Pacifica High instead of Mt Diablo. He then attended to Diablo Valley College for a year before transferring to San Francisco State. Then it all ended.
Just after midnight on Wednesday, February 1, 1962, Ronnie was driving home from the City on HWY 24 between Orinda and Lafayette. It was late, the tule fog was thick, and Ronnie may have had a drink or two. Suddenly, a slow-moving bread truck emerged from the fog in front of him. Ronnie tried to swerve, but he hit the back of the truck, the car flipped over, and Ronnie was thrown out. He was gone before they reached the hospital.
His sister Cindy added:
Nonno was good with tools. He built the trellises to grow his grapes for homemade wine. I believe he built the outdoor BBQ with his friends out of brick. I do remember being at their house when he replaced the bathroom vanity.
With a new address came new social connections. The Petrises became part of the Our Lady Queen of the World Parish in West Pittsburg. Lolli joined the Colombo Lodge of Antioch, Sons of Italy. He also began playing bocce ball at Ambrose Park on the courts build by Poldi Quattrin. Zita took a job as a cafeteria cook at Shore Acres Elementary School, where she developed a new set of friends and mutual card-enthusiasts.
In 1957, Lolli’s brother-in-law Andrea became sick with throat cancer. He died the next year. During that time, Emilia sent her preteen son Danny to stay with Lolli and Zita to “straighten him out.” Danny adored them despite Zita’s disciplinary style. As Cindy later said, “Noni was tough and would hit first and ask questions later. When we were young and being kids, she used to say ‘You kids need Vietnam!’” Only 4 years younger, Danny finally had a brother figure in Ronnie to whom he could relate. His actual brother, Battista, was 18 years older, and they did not have much in common until later in life. Danny idolized Ronnie and would later say that his times there in West Pittsburg were some of the best of his life. Ronnie was an honors student and valedictorian like his sister, though he went to Pacifica High instead of Mt Diablo. He then attended to Diablo Valley College for a year before transferring to San Francisco State. Then it all ended.
Just after midnight on Wednesday, February 1, 1962, Ronnie was driving home from the City on HWY 24 between Orinda and Lafayette. It was late, the tule fog was thick, and Ronnie may have had a drink or two. Suddenly, a slow-moving bread truck emerged from the fog in front of him. Ronnie tried to swerve, but he hit the back of the truck, the car flipped over, and Ronnie was thrown out. He was gone before they reached the hospital.
Needless to say, the family was devastated. Lolli and Zita bought a family plot in Holy Cross Cemetery, Antioch, where they would all come to rest. Their son is still remembered as “poor Uncle Ronnie” who never had the chance to grow up and become Ron.
In her first year at USF, Maxine joined Tri Gamma sorority. By the end of the year, she qualified for the President’s Honor Roll within the Nursing Program. Then she met and fell in love with Bill Coutts, an SI graduate and USF student. They became engaged in February of 1957 after Bill was discharged from the US Army Reserve (the National Guard reserve where he had a 35-year career and retired as a Colonel), but they waited to marry until after she graduated. They married on June 28, 1958, at St. Peter Martyr Church
in Pittsburg. They quickly started their own family.
In her first year at USF, Maxine joined Tri Gamma sorority. By the end of the year, she qualified for the President’s Honor Roll within the Nursing Program. Then she met and fell in love with Bill Coutts, an SI graduate and USF student. They became engaged in February of 1957 after Bill was discharged from the US Army Reserve (the National Guard reserve where he had a 35-year career and retired as a Colonel), but they waited to marry until after she graduated. They married on June 28, 1958, at St. Peter Martyr Church
in Pittsburg. They quickly started their own family.
Lolli and Zita became grandparents for the first time in 1959, with the birth of Maxine and Bill’s first son, Billie. Cathy followed in 1961, Michael in 1962, and Cindy in 1963. The Coutts children had many happy memories of their grandparents. Cindy said, “Nonno used to carry a coin horseshoe purse and would give us pennies or nickels.” Their grandmother taught them to play cards, but they were too young to play with Lolli. Zita made clothes for them. Michael remembered their mother and Zita going to J.C. Penney to choose patterns. Cindy remembered,
Noni sewed a lot. She made quite a bit of mine and Cathy's clothes. She sewed our Ice Skating dresses, halter tops, dresses, and I remember she even made Billy a pair of satin pants and tank top to wear to a concert. She made covers for hangers, she also took a bunch of our scraps from clothes she made us and made a quilt. Macrame was also something she did, and I still have some of the blankets.
Bill, Sr., was an only child and Maxine was the only surviving child, so family holidays were somewhat small. According to Cindy,
My family each had their own Holidays. Noni and Nonno hosted Easter. We always spent Easter at their house. The two of them would go to church early. My mom would take the four of us to church at a later mass and then, when we would get home, there would a full feast and all kinds of toys and candy from the Easter Bunny. My parents always did Christmas Eve, and then we would always go to midnight mass. Thanksgiving was at our house as well, but our dad’s mom (Nana) would cook. We had no aunts, uncles (Uncle Ronnie having died young) or first cousins, so we were it for both sides.
Lolli retired from Allied General Chemical in 1962 after 35 years. He spent his time enjoying retirement—puttering around the house and playing bocce ball and Pedro with his cronies. Zita continued to work.
Some people travel in retirement, but the Petrises never really took vacation trips. Zita actually worked during the summers as a cook at a camp somewhere off of Highway 50 (aka “the Loneliest Road in America,” because of its long empty stretches through Nevada and Utah). Cathy went with her to camp once. She hated it.
Zita and Lolli did occasionally go to Apple Hill, a “beloved Northern California spot for foodies and day-trip adventurers” with acres and acres of colorful orchards and farms in the Sierra Nevada Foothills. Why there and not anywhere else is unknown.
In 1967, the family had another scare when Maxine developed breathing problems. She was admitted to the hospital, intubated, and diagnosed with myasthenia gravis. MG is a chronic autoimmune disease which causes weakness in voluntary muscles, resulting from the immune system mistakenly attacking nerve-muscle connections. Symptoms include drooping eyelids, double vision, difficulty speaking, chewing, swallowing, and breathing, which worsen with activity and improve with rest. In Maxine’s case, MG was specifically attacking the phrenic nerve, which controls the diaphragm and breathing. There is no cure, but, after 11 ½ months in a hospital bed, she made a full recovery. Cindy recalled that when her mom was sick, her grandparents took care of them all summer and most weekends.
Lolli had been a long-time smoker. After an extended struggle with emphysema, pneumonia, and heart issues, he died on June 17, 1970, in Concord at a convalescent hospital. He was 70 years old. After a rosary at the Pittsburg Funeral Chapel and Requiem Mass at Our Lady Queen of the World, he was laid to rest with his son Ronnie at Holy Cross Cemetery, Antioch.
Noni sewed a lot. She made quite a bit of mine and Cathy's clothes. She sewed our Ice Skating dresses, halter tops, dresses, and I remember she even made Billy a pair of satin pants and tank top to wear to a concert. She made covers for hangers, she also took a bunch of our scraps from clothes she made us and made a quilt. Macrame was also something she did, and I still have some of the blankets.
Bill, Sr., was an only child and Maxine was the only surviving child, so family holidays were somewhat small. According to Cindy,
My family each had their own Holidays. Noni and Nonno hosted Easter. We always spent Easter at their house. The two of them would go to church early. My mom would take the four of us to church at a later mass and then, when we would get home, there would a full feast and all kinds of toys and candy from the Easter Bunny. My parents always did Christmas Eve, and then we would always go to midnight mass. Thanksgiving was at our house as well, but our dad’s mom (Nana) would cook. We had no aunts, uncles (Uncle Ronnie having died young) or first cousins, so we were it for both sides.
Lolli retired from Allied General Chemical in 1962 after 35 years. He spent his time enjoying retirement—puttering around the house and playing bocce ball and Pedro with his cronies. Zita continued to work.
Some people travel in retirement, but the Petrises never really took vacation trips. Zita actually worked during the summers as a cook at a camp somewhere off of Highway 50 (aka “the Loneliest Road in America,” because of its long empty stretches through Nevada and Utah). Cathy went with her to camp once. She hated it.
Zita and Lolli did occasionally go to Apple Hill, a “beloved Northern California spot for foodies and day-trip adventurers” with acres and acres of colorful orchards and farms in the Sierra Nevada Foothills. Why there and not anywhere else is unknown.
In 1967, the family had another scare when Maxine developed breathing problems. She was admitted to the hospital, intubated, and diagnosed with myasthenia gravis. MG is a chronic autoimmune disease which causes weakness in voluntary muscles, resulting from the immune system mistakenly attacking nerve-muscle connections. Symptoms include drooping eyelids, double vision, difficulty speaking, chewing, swallowing, and breathing, which worsen with activity and improve with rest. In Maxine’s case, MG was specifically attacking the phrenic nerve, which controls the diaphragm and breathing. There is no cure, but, after 11 ½ months in a hospital bed, she made a full recovery. Cindy recalled that when her mom was sick, her grandparents took care of them all summer and most weekends.
Lolli had been a long-time smoker. After an extended struggle with emphysema, pneumonia, and heart issues, he died on June 17, 1970, in Concord at a convalescent hospital. He was 70 years old. After a rosary at the Pittsburg Funeral Chapel and Requiem Mass at Our Lady Queen of the World, he was laid to rest with his son Ronnie at Holy Cross Cemetery, Antioch.
After Lolli died, Zita finally got her drivers’ license so she could get to work more easily. She drove Lolli’s late 60s Chevy Impala—a huge boat of a car. But she never drove on the freeway. She took back streets to get anywhere. When the Bay Area Rapid Transit System (BART) reached Concord in 1973, she would walk or drive to the BART station and take the train to Daly City to visit her grandchildren. (BART would not reach Pittsburg until 1996.) Zita would continue to work for the Contra Costa School District until she retired in 1988 at age 75.
Zita was an active member of the Young Ladies Institute (YLI) Pittsburg Branch most of her life and donated a lot her time to her parish Our Lady Queen of the World. The YLI is the oldest Catholic women’s organization in the United States. A companion organization to the Young Men’s Institute (YMI), which had been formed in St. Joseph’s Parish, San Francisco in 1883, the YLI was founded on September 5, 1887 in San Francisco by three young women (Annie M. Sweeney, Mary E. Richardson, and Emily Coogan) to help a friend who was ill and did not have any financial means. Zita particularly enjoyed the Saturday Luncheons at the Copper Skillet.
In retirement, Zita and her church friends (Rena DeMarco and Norma Vertarini) splurged on a trip to Hawaii. They went to Oahu and did all the touristy things—attended a luau, shopped for trinkets in the local markets, walked Waikiki, and saw the fireworks. It was by far the furthest she ever traveled from Ambrose.
On October 31, 1983, Zita became a great-grandmother with the birth of Cathy’s daughter Michelle Bihari. There would be nine more great-grandchildren in her lifetime, as well as two great-great-grandchildren.
Zita lived alone for over 35 years after Lolli died. Maxine or the kids would check in on her frequently. In 2006, Maxine had been unwell and had to have heart surgery. When the kids were able to check in on Zita, they found her on the floor in her house. She had an acute urinary tract infection and ended up in the hospital also. After a short time in a nursing home, Zita moved in temporarily with Cathy before moving back to Pittsburg. Bill was living in the East Bay and kept an eye on her. Over time, she became increasingly visual-, hearing-, and mobility-impaired. By 2010, Maxine had become very sick again and changes of venue and care were required. Maxine moved back to Hill Street and Bill, Jr., moved in to take care of her. Zita was moved to Capra House in South San Francisco where she could receive a higher form of care and be near Cindy and Michael. Capra House had been founded by two brothers that wanted to have a small home to take care of people because they did not like the way their grandmother had been treated in another nursing home. The care was excellent, but Zita became less and less engaged and sleeping more and more.
Maxine died of a heart attack on October 12, 2011, at John Muir Medical Center in Concord. She was 74. She was buried with her brother and father at Holy Cross Cemetery, Antioch.
Seven months later, Zita died peacefully in Millbrae from complications of the stroke she had had. She was 98 years old. Her body was cremated and a memorial service was held at the Garden Chapel in South San Francisco. Since Maxine had been adamant that she did not want to be cremated, she took Zita’s space in the family plot, leaving no room for Zita. But Zita’s descendants went to the cemetery one Sunday with a couple of car jacks, jacked up the capstone, and slid her ashes in. It was the kind of frugality and disobedience that Zita would have appreciated.
Zita was an active member of the Young Ladies Institute (YLI) Pittsburg Branch most of her life and donated a lot her time to her parish Our Lady Queen of the World. The YLI is the oldest Catholic women’s organization in the United States. A companion organization to the Young Men’s Institute (YMI), which had been formed in St. Joseph’s Parish, San Francisco in 1883, the YLI was founded on September 5, 1887 in San Francisco by three young women (Annie M. Sweeney, Mary E. Richardson, and Emily Coogan) to help a friend who was ill and did not have any financial means. Zita particularly enjoyed the Saturday Luncheons at the Copper Skillet.
In retirement, Zita and her church friends (Rena DeMarco and Norma Vertarini) splurged on a trip to Hawaii. They went to Oahu and did all the touristy things—attended a luau, shopped for trinkets in the local markets, walked Waikiki, and saw the fireworks. It was by far the furthest she ever traveled from Ambrose.
On October 31, 1983, Zita became a great-grandmother with the birth of Cathy’s daughter Michelle Bihari. There would be nine more great-grandchildren in her lifetime, as well as two great-great-grandchildren.
Zita lived alone for over 35 years after Lolli died. Maxine or the kids would check in on her frequently. In 2006, Maxine had been unwell and had to have heart surgery. When the kids were able to check in on Zita, they found her on the floor in her house. She had an acute urinary tract infection and ended up in the hospital also. After a short time in a nursing home, Zita moved in temporarily with Cathy before moving back to Pittsburg. Bill was living in the East Bay and kept an eye on her. Over time, she became increasingly visual-, hearing-, and mobility-impaired. By 2010, Maxine had become very sick again and changes of venue and care were required. Maxine moved back to Hill Street and Bill, Jr., moved in to take care of her. Zita was moved to Capra House in South San Francisco where she could receive a higher form of care and be near Cindy and Michael. Capra House had been founded by two brothers that wanted to have a small home to take care of people because they did not like the way their grandmother had been treated in another nursing home. The care was excellent, but Zita became less and less engaged and sleeping more and more.
Maxine died of a heart attack on October 12, 2011, at John Muir Medical Center in Concord. She was 74. She was buried with her brother and father at Holy Cross Cemetery, Antioch.
Seven months later, Zita died peacefully in Millbrae from complications of the stroke she had had. She was 98 years old. Her body was cremated and a memorial service was held at the Garden Chapel in South San Francisco. Since Maxine had been adamant that she did not want to be cremated, she took Zita’s space in the family plot, leaving no room for Zita. But Zita’s descendants went to the cemetery one Sunday with a couple of car jacks, jacked up the capstone, and slid her ashes in. It was the kind of frugality and disobedience that Zita would have appreciated.
To quote her obituary, “Zita enjoyed cooking, playing cards, working in the garden, and taking care of others.” She was also vivacious and fun-loving. Even in her 80s, she would skip rope with the great-grandkids. There is video!
Lolli and Zita were each strong, competent people in their own right. But together they made a dynamic, unstoppable team for 43 years. Their lives were certainly not ease, but they leaned on each other and build a strong sense of family among their descendants which remains today. The interconnectedness of their grandchildren and great-grandchildren is a testament to their faith and steadfastness. What better legacy could there be?
Lolli and Zita were each strong, competent people in their own right. But together they made a dynamic, unstoppable team for 43 years. Their lives were certainly not ease, but they leaned on each other and build a strong sense of family among their descendants which remains today. The interconnectedness of their grandchildren and great-grandchildren is a testament to their faith and steadfastness. What better legacy could there be?
