Leopoldo (Poldi) Quattrin and Maria Gregoris
Birth: 23 Aug 1902, Zoppola, Italy
Death: 7 Jun 1984, Concord, CA
Burial: 9 Jun 1984, Lafayette, Contra Costa, California
Death: 7 Jun 1984, Concord, CA
Burial: 9 Jun 1984, Lafayette, Contra Costa, California
Spouse: Maria Rosa Gregoris
Birth: 9 Nov 1909, Zoppola, Italy
Death: 31 Aug 2000, Bay Point, , California
Father: Luigi Gregoris (-1948)
Mother: Elisa M Franceschi (~1896-1957)
Marriage: 25 Jul 1931, Zoppola, Italy
Children: Lilia (Lil) Luisa (1933-)
Birth: 9 Nov 1909, Zoppola, Italy
Death: 31 Aug 2000, Bay Point, , California
Father: Luigi Gregoris (-1948)
Mother: Elisa M Franceschi (~1896-1957)
Marriage: 25 Jul 1931, Zoppola, Italy
Children: Lilia (Lil) Luisa (1933-)
Spouse: Josephine Dorothy Bordoni
Birth: 6 Nov 1911, Bay Point, Contra Costa, California
Death: 25 Feb 2001, Bay Point, California
Father: Pietro Bordoni (1865-1936)
Mother: Rosa Tonucci (1866-1949)
Marriage: 25 Aug 1926, Contra Costa, California
Divorce: 28 Sept 1927, Martinez, California
Birth: 6 Nov 1911, Bay Point, Contra Costa, California
Death: 25 Feb 2001, Bay Point, California
Father: Pietro Bordoni (1865-1936)
Mother: Rosa Tonucci (1866-1949)
Marriage: 25 Aug 1926, Contra Costa, California
Divorce: 28 Sept 1927, Martinez, California
Leopoldo Quattrin was the seventh child of Giovanni Battista Quattrin, a landowner and farmer, and Elisabetta De Paoli, a housewife and daughter of a prosperous building contractor from Pescincanna. He was born on August 23, 1902 and was a twin. His twin brother was stillborn (hence was not given a name). His daughter Lil said, “They expected my Dad to die because he weighted a little over 2 pounds and his twin weighed more.”
The later supposition was that they suffered from Twin-Twin Transfusion Syndrome.
TTTS is a rare, serious condition which can occur when identical twins share a placenta (monochorionic). Abnormal blood vessel connections form in the placenta that allow blood to flow unevenly between the fetuses. In TTTS, the recipient twin's blood can become thick and difficult to pump through the body. This leads to heart failure, generalized soft tissue swelling, and in some cases, fetal death. The donor twin is at risk for failure of the kidneys and other organs because of inadequate blood flow.
Poldi, as he was known, was named after his maternal grandfather, Leopoldo De Paoli. He had a typical upbringing in Zoppola. Like his siblings, he had a rudimentary education. In the 1940 US Census he approximated it as a 4th grade formal education. By then, he could read and write in Furlan and Italian and had developed basic math skills. Mostly, he worked in the fields with his family, learning the wisdom of the agricultural cycle of life. He was 13 years old when Italy entered World War I, and his two oldest brothers joined the Mountain Artillery. He was 15 when Friuli was overrun by the Tedeschi (Germans) and 16 when they withdrew at the end of the War. As such, he was too young to serve in the military. He would have been drafted in 1922, but he was already in America by then.
Poldi did not leave us any memories of Zoppola during the Great War, but his sister Palmira wrote extensively about the occupation. Palmira remembered that the Tedeschi were billeted in the homes of the citizenry, including the big Quattrin house. She, her parents, and six siblings still at home all had to cram in to one bedroom, as the German officers took the other rooms. She remembered that the common soldiers slept on the floors in the hallway, were dirty, and had lice. Food was hard to come by, and the younger children had to guard what was being cooked for dinner while the adults were working in the fields, otherwise the soldiers would steal the food and they would go hungry. Mostly what they ate was polenta, lentils, and bean soup. When the Tedeschi withdrew, they stole everything they could carry. On the other hand, Poldi’s wife Maria, who was eight years old at the time, remembered that the soldiers were mostly nice and sometimes gave the children chocolates. But she also remembered that they took the bell down from the church steeple and melted it down to make ammunition.
Poldi’s eldest brother Andrea had gone to America in 1913 to earn money to send home to the family. After coming home to fight in the War and spending a year in a POW camp in Albania, Andrea came back to Zoppola to recover, and then decided to return to California to seek his fortune. He set sail in April of 1920. In California, he attempted to start a vineyard in Kingsburg, California, with his cousin Antonio Colussi. He sent money for Poldi to join him.
Poldi entered New York harbor on December 15, 1920, on the Italian ship Ferdinando Palasciano. According to the ship’s passenger list, Poldi was 5’6”, with brown hair, gray eyes, and a natural complexion. He had $25 in his pocket and no train ticket yet.
The later supposition was that they suffered from Twin-Twin Transfusion Syndrome.
TTTS is a rare, serious condition which can occur when identical twins share a placenta (monochorionic). Abnormal blood vessel connections form in the placenta that allow blood to flow unevenly between the fetuses. In TTTS, the recipient twin's blood can become thick and difficult to pump through the body. This leads to heart failure, generalized soft tissue swelling, and in some cases, fetal death. The donor twin is at risk for failure of the kidneys and other organs because of inadequate blood flow.
Poldi, as he was known, was named after his maternal grandfather, Leopoldo De Paoli. He had a typical upbringing in Zoppola. Like his siblings, he had a rudimentary education. In the 1940 US Census he approximated it as a 4th grade formal education. By then, he could read and write in Furlan and Italian and had developed basic math skills. Mostly, he worked in the fields with his family, learning the wisdom of the agricultural cycle of life. He was 13 years old when Italy entered World War I, and his two oldest brothers joined the Mountain Artillery. He was 15 when Friuli was overrun by the Tedeschi (Germans) and 16 when they withdrew at the end of the War. As such, he was too young to serve in the military. He would have been drafted in 1922, but he was already in America by then.
Poldi did not leave us any memories of Zoppola during the Great War, but his sister Palmira wrote extensively about the occupation. Palmira remembered that the Tedeschi were billeted in the homes of the citizenry, including the big Quattrin house. She, her parents, and six siblings still at home all had to cram in to one bedroom, as the German officers took the other rooms. She remembered that the common soldiers slept on the floors in the hallway, were dirty, and had lice. Food was hard to come by, and the younger children had to guard what was being cooked for dinner while the adults were working in the fields, otherwise the soldiers would steal the food and they would go hungry. Mostly what they ate was polenta, lentils, and bean soup. When the Tedeschi withdrew, they stole everything they could carry. On the other hand, Poldi’s wife Maria, who was eight years old at the time, remembered that the soldiers were mostly nice and sometimes gave the children chocolates. But she also remembered that they took the bell down from the church steeple and melted it down to make ammunition.
Poldi’s eldest brother Andrea had gone to America in 1913 to earn money to send home to the family. After coming home to fight in the War and spending a year in a POW camp in Albania, Andrea came back to Zoppola to recover, and then decided to return to California to seek his fortune. He set sail in April of 1920. In California, he attempted to start a vineyard in Kingsburg, California, with his cousin Antonio Colussi. He sent money for Poldi to join him.
Poldi entered New York harbor on December 15, 1920, on the Italian ship Ferdinando Palasciano. According to the ship’s passenger list, Poldi was 5’6”, with brown hair, gray eyes, and a natural complexion. He had $25 in his pocket and no train ticket yet.
He bought a train ticket and joined his brother in Kingsburg where he began working as a field laborer. After a stint in the army, their brother Johnny joined them in November of 1923. Unfortunately, their timing was off. Prohibition started just after Poldi came to California. Even though there was an exception in the Volstead Act that for 200 gallons of wine to be made per family, this was not enough volume to make the vineyard financially viable.
By 1923, Poldi, his brother Johnny, and George and Jack Petris had moved from the Kingsburg area up to Contra Costa County in search of work. Johnny got a job at the C&H Sugar Refinery in Crockett. He would work there for the next 40 years. Poldi worked with him for a short time but hated it. He soon went to work at General Allied Chemical and was living in Nichols, near Port Chicago.
Nichols was an unincorporated community in Contra Costa County. It is on the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad, five and a half miles west of Pittsburg, on the Sacramento River Delta. The place was named for William H. Nichols, president of the General Chemical Company of New York, who built a plant there in 1909 to produce fertilizer and a number of other chemicals for industrial use. The town was owned by the company and rented only to employees. There were about 50 houses and a couple of boarding houses (referred to as bunkhouses in some books), with 74 individual families.
According to the website of the General Chemical Group (www.genchem.com):
The General Chemical Group traces its roots to 1899 when The General Chemical Company was formed through the merger of 12 already well-established chemical producers, including the Nichols Chemical Company. Dr. William H. Nichols, a highly respected chemist, and his son, Charles W. Nichols, orchestrated the merger, and the elder Nichols became the new company's first chairman. Headquarters were located in New York City, and the company billed itself as ‘manufacturing chemists’ selling ‘high grade sulphuric, muriatic, nitric, and acetic acids,’ as well as sulphate of alumina and mixed acid for explosives. Advertisements also highlighted the benefits of the newly merged organization: ‘by means of our works being located in all sections of the country, we can give buyers benefits of lowest freight rates.’
In 1900, the new concern was producing about 15 chemicals in a fledgling industry rapidly shaped by new technologies; by 1920, the General Chemical product line would swell to over 100. The company pioneered many of the processes used in chemical manufacturing. In 1901, for example, the company established the world's first experimental contact sulfuric acid plant. The following year, it began to use bauxite in the production of aluminum, believed to be the metal's first such commercial application.
According to the website of the General Chemical Group (www.genchem.com):
The General Chemical Group traces its roots to 1899 when The General Chemical Company was formed through the merger of 12 already well-established chemical producers, including the Nichols Chemical Company. Dr. William H. Nichols, a highly respected chemist, and his son, Charles W. Nichols, orchestrated the merger, and the elder Nichols became the new company's first chairman. Headquarters were located in New York City, and the company billed itself as ‘manufacturing chemists’ selling ‘high grade sulphuric, muriatic, nitric, and acetic acids,’ as well as sulphate of alumina and mixed acid for explosives. Advertisements also highlighted the benefits of the newly merged organization: ‘by means of our works being located in all sections of the country, we can give buyers benefits of lowest freight rates.’
In 1900, the new concern was producing about 15 chemicals in a fledgling industry rapidly shaped by new technologies; by 1920, the General Chemical product line would swell to over 100. The company pioneered many of the processes used in chemical manufacturing. In 1901, for example, the company established the world's first experimental contact sulfuric acid plant. The following year, it began to use bauxite in the production of aluminum, believed to be the metal's first such commercial application.
The company quickly expanded during the first decades of the 20th century. By 1903, two giant commercial sulfuric acid plants had been erected in Edgewater and Camden, New Jersey. General Chemical also built several other major production plants including, in 1909, its first West Coast plant, the Bay Point Works in the San Francisco Bay area. In 1912, the company's massive Delaware Valley Works in Claymont, Delaware, and Marcus Hook, Pennsylvania, opened. With its pervasive presence, General Chemical played an important support role in World War I, supplying Allied troops with critical ingredients for munitions and other supplies.
In 1921, General Chemical was one of five major U.S. chemical companies that came together to form Allied Chemical & Dye Corp. The merger, one of the largest to that date, included the Solvay Process Company (maker of alkalis), Semet-Solvay (builder and operator of coke ovens), the Barrett Company (maker of coal tar products), and the National Aniline & Chemical Company (supplier of aniline oils used in making dyes). General Chemical's founder, W.H. Nichols, was once again a leader in effecting the merger, and he was named chairman of Allied. As a diversified chemical producer, Allied was a dominant domestic and international chemical company throughout most of the 20th century. General Chemical retained its identity as a division within Allied during this period.
As part of Allied, General Chemical thrived, even during the Great Depression. Allied maintained large reserves of liquid assets, no debt, and paid dividends yearly. However, shortsighted management on the part of Nichols's successor at Allied, Orlando F. Weber, resulted in little to no budget for researching new products and applications. Weber's era as chairman was also characterized by intense secrecy; financial reports were kept vague and confidential, and Allied executives were forbidden to join trade associations or be featured in the media. Some speculated that Weber's autocracy created a knowledge vacuum at Allied, an intentional move to keep Dr. Nichols's son, Charles Nichols, from taking control of the company.
In 1921, General Chemical was one of five major U.S. chemical companies that came together to form Allied Chemical & Dye Corp. The merger, one of the largest to that date, included the Solvay Process Company (maker of alkalis), Semet-Solvay (builder and operator of coke ovens), the Barrett Company (maker of coal tar products), and the National Aniline & Chemical Company (supplier of aniline oils used in making dyes). General Chemical's founder, W.H. Nichols, was once again a leader in effecting the merger, and he was named chairman of Allied. As a diversified chemical producer, Allied was a dominant domestic and international chemical company throughout most of the 20th century. General Chemical retained its identity as a division within Allied during this period.
As part of Allied, General Chemical thrived, even during the Great Depression. Allied maintained large reserves of liquid assets, no debt, and paid dividends yearly. However, shortsighted management on the part of Nichols's successor at Allied, Orlando F. Weber, resulted in little to no budget for researching new products and applications. Weber's era as chairman was also characterized by intense secrecy; financial reports were kept vague and confidential, and Allied executives were forbidden to join trade associations or be featured in the media. Some speculated that Weber's autocracy created a knowledge vacuum at Allied, an intentional move to keep Dr. Nichols's son, Charles Nichols, from taking control of the company.
Poldi was always forward-thinking and was the first member of the family to own a car. The relatives back home called him “The Americano.” On April 25, 1926, Poldi was driving with friends on the Concord-Pacheco Road, near the Southern Pacifica crossing when another car approached on the wrong side of the road and side-swiped them, forcing them into a ditch. Poldi was thrown from the car and the other passengers suffered bruises and lacerations “for which surgical and hospital attendance was necessary.” The other driver, George Smith, was found to have a gallon of wine in the car and was drunk. He was arrested, and Poldi later sued for $1765 in damages. One of the passengers in Poldi’s car was probably Josie Bordoni.
Josephine Dorothy Bordoni was born in November 11, 1911 in Bay Point, California. She was the seventh child of Pietro Bordoni and Rosa Tonucci. Her father and first five siblings were born in San Giovanni, Emilia-Romagna, Italy, and her mother was born in nearby Cattolica, Emilia-Romagna. Pietro was a bricklayer for General Chemical, and the family lived in Nichols.
Josie had been born and raised in Nichols and had gone to the Nichols School. She was one of the three students who graduated eighth grade in June of 1926. She was the class historian. Her two classmates continued on to Mount Diablo Union High School, but Josie chose not go to high school. Instead, she married Poldi.
Josie had been born and raised in Nichols and had gone to the Nichols School. She was one of the three students who graduated eighth grade in June of 1926. She was the class historian. Her two classmates continued on to Mount Diablo Union High School, but Josie chose not go to high school. Instead, she married Poldi.
Poldi and Josie married on August 21, 1926, in Contra Costa County. He was 24, and she was 15 years old. She must have lied about her age as the age of consent in California at the time was 16. (A decade earlier, it had been 13.) Among the “large number of friends and relatives” at the wedding were his brothers Johnny and Andrea, as well as the Petris brothers. Johnny and Andrea tied bells to the springs under Poldi’s mattress and sat below the newlyweds’ window, drinking and laughing every time the bells rang. The next morning, the newlyweds took a short honeymoon to the northern part of the state before returning to Nichols and the factory.
The marriage did not last long. Maybe she was too young or too American. Maybe he had too many expectations about what an Italian wife should be. For a time, they moved back to Fresno where Poldi worked as a field hand for the Louis Martini vineyard in Tulare. Maybe she missed her family. By September 28, 1927, she had filed for divorce in Martinez. She claimed physical cruelty, which was one of the only three reasons a wife could sue for divorce back then. (The others were promiscuity and abandonment.) She asked for $75 a month in alimony, which would be comparable to $1400 a month now. We do not know how much she received, but they were divorced by October 3rd. Poldi went back to Nichols and resumed work at General Chemical as a chemical worker, where his monthly income was barely over $100 per month.
Josie would go on to marry William Thomas White two years later and have three children. They divorced in 1945, and she quickly remarried. She and Primo Clemente Parini would be married until his death in 1958. She lived as a widow for the next 43 years and died on February 21, 2001, in Contra Costa County.
The year 1929 was hard on the country, but two good things happened to Poldi. First, his ex-wife remarried and he could stop paying alimony. Second, on November 16, 1929, he became a naturalized American citizen. This allowed him to safely return to Zoppola to look for a wife without worrying about reentry to the US. He took leave from his job at in early 1931 and went home. There he found Maria Gregoris.
The marriage did not last long. Maybe she was too young or too American. Maybe he had too many expectations about what an Italian wife should be. For a time, they moved back to Fresno where Poldi worked as a field hand for the Louis Martini vineyard in Tulare. Maybe she missed her family. By September 28, 1927, she had filed for divorce in Martinez. She claimed physical cruelty, which was one of the only three reasons a wife could sue for divorce back then. (The others were promiscuity and abandonment.) She asked for $75 a month in alimony, which would be comparable to $1400 a month now. We do not know how much she received, but they were divorced by October 3rd. Poldi went back to Nichols and resumed work at General Chemical as a chemical worker, where his monthly income was barely over $100 per month.
Josie would go on to marry William Thomas White two years later and have three children. They divorced in 1945, and she quickly remarried. She and Primo Clemente Parini would be married until his death in 1958. She lived as a widow for the next 43 years and died on February 21, 2001, in Contra Costa County.
The year 1929 was hard on the country, but two good things happened to Poldi. First, his ex-wife remarried and he could stop paying alimony. Second, on November 16, 1929, he became a naturalized American citizen. This allowed him to safely return to Zoppola to look for a wife without worrying about reentry to the US. He took leave from his job at in early 1931 and went home. There he found Maria Gregoris.
Maria Rosa Gregoris was born on November 9, 1909, in Zoppola. She was the eldest of the three children of Luigi Gregoris and Elisa Franceschi. Her maternal grandmother was a Bortolussi with roots in Zoppola reaching back to the 16th century.
Maria had a typical upbringing in Zoppola. She went to school until the 4th grade and could read and write Furlan and Italian. The learned the domestic arts from her mother. As a young adult, she worked in the spinning mill in Orenico Inferiore, one of the hamlets that made up the Comune di Zoppola.
The secrets of sericulture, or silk farming, was once held exclusively by China, but they were smuggled into the Byzantine Empire around 550 A.D. by two monks who hid silkworm eggs in a bamboo cane. Silkworms reached the south of Italy by the 10th century and gradually spread to other areas, leading to the flourishing of Italian sericulture in the Po River Valley and the Como region by the 13th century. The exact date silkworms arrived in Zoppola is not specified in historical records, but it was likely during the 15th century, as silk farming spread from swamps of Venice to Friuli where the mulberry trees that supported silkworms could survive in a more hospitable climate.
The mill on the Fiume River, in Orcenico Inferiore, dates back to the end of the 19th century. It was originally built by the local mayor Pietro Domini to exploite the hydraulic energy of the Fiume River as a sawmill, and it was later used as a spinning mill as well. There were a half dozen mills on the Fiume River at the time, but most were for grinding grain. The silk mill (or filanda) and the forge (fornace) were the only factories in the area that could be considered industrial. Both were later owned by the Zanini-Biglia company.
As his son-in-law Ben Riley told the story, Poldi had been walking past the mill one day, saw Maria through the window, and, as they say in Italian, ha ricevuto il fulmine—he was struck by the thunderbolt. They may have known of each other earlier, but Maria was only eleven when Poldi first went to America.
Maria had a typical upbringing in Zoppola. She went to school until the 4th grade and could read and write Furlan and Italian. The learned the domestic arts from her mother. As a young adult, she worked in the spinning mill in Orenico Inferiore, one of the hamlets that made up the Comune di Zoppola.
The secrets of sericulture, or silk farming, was once held exclusively by China, but they were smuggled into the Byzantine Empire around 550 A.D. by two monks who hid silkworm eggs in a bamboo cane. Silkworms reached the south of Italy by the 10th century and gradually spread to other areas, leading to the flourishing of Italian sericulture in the Po River Valley and the Como region by the 13th century. The exact date silkworms arrived in Zoppola is not specified in historical records, but it was likely during the 15th century, as silk farming spread from swamps of Venice to Friuli where the mulberry trees that supported silkworms could survive in a more hospitable climate.
The mill on the Fiume River, in Orcenico Inferiore, dates back to the end of the 19th century. It was originally built by the local mayor Pietro Domini to exploite the hydraulic energy of the Fiume River as a sawmill, and it was later used as a spinning mill as well. There were a half dozen mills on the Fiume River at the time, but most were for grinding grain. The silk mill (or filanda) and the forge (fornace) were the only factories in the area that could be considered industrial. Both were later owned by the Zanini-Biglia company.
As his son-in-law Ben Riley told the story, Poldi had been walking past the mill one day, saw Maria through the window, and, as they say in Italian, ha ricevuto il fulmine—he was struck by the thunderbolt. They may have known of each other earlier, but Maria was only eleven when Poldi first went to America.
Poldi and Maria married on July 25, 1931, at the Church of San Martino Vescovo in Zoppola. He was 29, and she was 21. (Maria Bomben Moretto, Ilia Moretto’s mother, was the maid of honor.) Less than a month later, on August 31st, Poldi left for America on the SS Roma. Maria would follow in March.
Whenever Poldi would drive through the Wawona Tunnel into Yosemite, he would tell the family that he had worked on the tunnel. Construction on the tunnel began on January 30, 1931 and ended on June 17, 1933. But he went home to Zoppola, met and married Maria in July of 1931, and was known to be living in Nichols in March of 1932 when she came from Italy to San Francisco. It is unclear how this timeline worked, but here is a guess.
When Poldi returned to California, his job at General Chemical had been filled temporarily. So, he took a job as a laborer digging the Wawona Tunnel, near Glacier Point in Yosemite National Park.
According to Wikipedia,
Wawona Tunnel is named after the community of Wawona, but the town’s name origin is not known. A popular story claims Wawō'na was the Miwok word for "big tree", or for "hoot of the owl", a bird considered the sequoia trees' spiritual guardian. Wawona Tunnel was bored through solid granite bedrock and carries Wawona Road through a granite mountain on the south side of the Merced River. It is located on one of the three main roads providing access to Yosemite Valley, the most visited section of the park. Wawona Road becomes California State Route 41 on exiting the park. After passing through the tunnel, when leaving Yosemite Valley, Wawona Road continues to Chinquapin Junction with Glacier Point Road to Badger Pass ski area and Glacier Point and reaches an elevation of 6,039 feet above sea level.
The completion of the tunnel shortened the trip to Yosemite by 40 miles (64 km) from Fresno and Southern California, compared to the All-Year Highway from Merced. The tunnel's construction was paired with major road upgrades, which expanded a narrow, often steep 12-foot stagecoach road into a 26-foot-wide road. These improvements lowered the road's incline to a gentle 5% and softened sharp curves, making it better suited for automobile speeds. Additionally, the project rerouted the road away from old stagecoach relay stations like Fort Monroe.
When it opened in 1933, the Wawona Tunnel was the longest automobile tunnel in the world and remains the longest highway tunnel in California at 4,233 feet (1,290 m) long. The Tom Lantos Tunnels in Pacifica, California are 4,149 feet (1,265 m); the Caldecott Tunnel in Oakland, California is 3,771 feet (1,149 m) long.
There is a story that, when the Tunnel opened, one worker hanged himself in the tunnel. He could not foresee getting another job during the Depression. Research shows no evidence that this story is true, though. Though the Wawona Tunnel was finished in 1933, Poldi did not see that job to the end. By early 1932, he was back in Nichols, working as a “sulphonic acid burner operator.” An acid burner is a specialized piece of equipment used for the breakdown of used acids or sulfur-containing gases at temperatures of over 1000 C°, in order to recover the valuable chemicals. This process prevents the disposal of hazardous waste and reduces reliance on new materials. Lil remembered that Poldi often came home with little burn holes in his clothes from the spatter of molten acids.
Whenever Poldi would drive through the Wawona Tunnel into Yosemite, he would tell the family that he had worked on the tunnel. Construction on the tunnel began on January 30, 1931 and ended on June 17, 1933. But he went home to Zoppola, met and married Maria in July of 1931, and was known to be living in Nichols in March of 1932 when she came from Italy to San Francisco. It is unclear how this timeline worked, but here is a guess.
When Poldi returned to California, his job at General Chemical had been filled temporarily. So, he took a job as a laborer digging the Wawona Tunnel, near Glacier Point in Yosemite National Park.
According to Wikipedia,
Wawona Tunnel is named after the community of Wawona, but the town’s name origin is not known. A popular story claims Wawō'na was the Miwok word for "big tree", or for "hoot of the owl", a bird considered the sequoia trees' spiritual guardian. Wawona Tunnel was bored through solid granite bedrock and carries Wawona Road through a granite mountain on the south side of the Merced River. It is located on one of the three main roads providing access to Yosemite Valley, the most visited section of the park. Wawona Road becomes California State Route 41 on exiting the park. After passing through the tunnel, when leaving Yosemite Valley, Wawona Road continues to Chinquapin Junction with Glacier Point Road to Badger Pass ski area and Glacier Point and reaches an elevation of 6,039 feet above sea level.
The completion of the tunnel shortened the trip to Yosemite by 40 miles (64 km) from Fresno and Southern California, compared to the All-Year Highway from Merced. The tunnel's construction was paired with major road upgrades, which expanded a narrow, often steep 12-foot stagecoach road into a 26-foot-wide road. These improvements lowered the road's incline to a gentle 5% and softened sharp curves, making it better suited for automobile speeds. Additionally, the project rerouted the road away from old stagecoach relay stations like Fort Monroe.
When it opened in 1933, the Wawona Tunnel was the longest automobile tunnel in the world and remains the longest highway tunnel in California at 4,233 feet (1,290 m) long. The Tom Lantos Tunnels in Pacifica, California are 4,149 feet (1,265 m); the Caldecott Tunnel in Oakland, California is 3,771 feet (1,149 m) long.
There is a story that, when the Tunnel opened, one worker hanged himself in the tunnel. He could not foresee getting another job during the Depression. Research shows no evidence that this story is true, though. Though the Wawona Tunnel was finished in 1933, Poldi did not see that job to the end. By early 1932, he was back in Nichols, working as a “sulphonic acid burner operator.” An acid burner is a specialized piece of equipment used for the breakdown of used acids or sulfur-containing gases at temperatures of over 1000 C°, in order to recover the valuable chemicals. This process prevents the disposal of hazardous waste and reduces reliance on new materials. Lil remembered that Poldi often came home with little burn holes in his clothes from the spatter of molten acids.
Maria arrived in New York Harbor on March 31, 1932, on the Conte Biancamano. The passenger list shows her as 5’2”, with brown hair, brown eyes, and a natural complexion. She had $30 in her pocket with which to buy a train ticket through Chicago to San Francisco. But things went awry.
Maria was traveling with Sebastiano and Anita Bomben and their children. Sebastiano spoke English, but Maria did not. Somehow, they got separated in New York, probably because she was immigrating and he had already established residence in San Francisco and was returning. Maria ended up on a different train, alone and unable to communicate. The train even crossed over briefly into Canada. She was terrified and confused. People on the train were kind and gave her food to eat, pantomiming communication as best as possible.
When she finally reached San Francisco’s Ferry Terminal, no one was waiting for Maria because she was a day earlier than expected. Back then, there had been no phone in Nichols where Poldi could be reached. She wanted to get in a taxi and drive around looking for anyone she knew, but someone at the Ferry building stepped in and found other Zoppolani in the City to help her. Her grandson Paul said she spent her first night on Green Street in North Beach, near where he used to live. Poldi showed up the next day looking for her, and the Ferry Building people sent him to Green Street. Reunited, Poldi whisked Maria off to Nichols in his chariot.
Maria was traveling with Sebastiano and Anita Bomben and their children. Sebastiano spoke English, but Maria did not. Somehow, they got separated in New York, probably because she was immigrating and he had already established residence in San Francisco and was returning. Maria ended up on a different train, alone and unable to communicate. The train even crossed over briefly into Canada. She was terrified and confused. People on the train were kind and gave her food to eat, pantomiming communication as best as possible.
When she finally reached San Francisco’s Ferry Terminal, no one was waiting for Maria because she was a day earlier than expected. Back then, there had been no phone in Nichols where Poldi could be reached. She wanted to get in a taxi and drive around looking for anyone she knew, but someone at the Ferry building stepped in and found other Zoppolani in the City to help her. Her grandson Paul said she spent her first night on Green Street in North Beach, near where he used to live. Poldi showed up the next day looking for her, and the Ferry Building people sent him to Green Street. Reunited, Poldi whisked Maria off to Nichols in his chariot.
Left to right: Maria Gregoris, unknown, unknown, Emilia Petris, Poldi Quattrin, Andrea Quattrin with Battista Quattrin in front, and Tony Quattrin.
Life in Nichols was good, despite the Depression. The Quattrins rented one of the 50 or so midsized houses (shown above) that General Chemical had built for its workers. It had two bedrooms, one indoor bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room / dining room combo. There were two porches, one off the kitchen in back and one off the living room in front. There was no central heating or air conditioning. They made do with a wood-burning iron stove and fans. In the 1930 US Census, there were many Zoppolani neighbors, including the Bombens (Louis and Sylvia) two doors up and the Petrises (Lolli and Zita) next to the Bombens, two other Quattrin families (Remmigio/Roy and Augustino), three other Bombens, a Lenarduzzi, a Borean, and several Fabbros. Maria’s first cousin Art Franceschi and his family would join them later. Art also worked for General Chemical and cut hair out of his house, becoming the de facto town barber.
Poldi was well respected at the chemical factory. His sister Palmira had described their father Tita as someone who could “see beyond the mountains.” Poldi inherited that same knack. He could easily handle big picture and small details in his head, which was why he could figure out how to build or fix anything. He did mental math quickly and easily. While working at General Chemical, he was the one to devise a seven-day cycle of three shifts (either midnight to 8 am, 8am to 4pm, or 4pm to midnight) with recovery days in between for all employees so that the factory could run 24-7 through the War. It meant that that a third of the workforce was sleeping during the day, but with shift variations in different cycles, no one got stuck in the same shift for an extended time. It was an effective technique for recovery and relief before unions. The children had to be quiet if they played outside, of course.
Maria, like most of the Zoppolani wives, was an excellent cook. Her daughter remembered her chicken and her pasta best. On special occasions, Maria made risotto. Her cousin’s wife Elena Franceschi made awesome ravioli.
For entertainment, Poldi fixed things and Maria knitted and crocheted. She also sewed beautifully. But mostly they visited friends and family. Maria rarely missed a morning cup of coffee with Sylvia Bomben. Since Poldi had a car, he would sometimes pick up his brother Johnny from Crockett to come for Sunday dinner. His other brother Andrea, Emilia, and John would sometimes take the Greyhound bus up to Nichols for the weekend to visit the Quattrins and Petrises. Nichols was not a regular stop for the bus, so Poldi and Lil would walk out to the road (the old Port Chicago Highway) to flag down the bus to let the relatives off.
Occasionally, the family would travel to San Francisco to go shopping downtown. Shopping on Market Street or at Union Square used to be an event for which everyone dressed up. The trip always included a visit to Potrero Hill to see his brother, as well as all the other Zoppolani in the area.
Lil remembered that they mostly made their own entertainment. Baseball was big in Nichols, just as it was in farming communities across the country. There was a field in Ambrose where the local team would play against rivals in Pittsburg, Antioch, and Rio Vista. Poldi might have watched occasionally, but he was a devoted bocce baller.
Poldi also loved fishing in the nearby Sacrament Delta. The river was teaming with salmon, sturgeon, catfish, and striped bass, as well as smaller fish like smelt, anchovies, and herrings. Being Poldi, he decided to build his own rowboat. People walking by would tease him and say it was going to sink as soon as it touched the water. But Poldi always knew what he was doing when it came to construction. The boat was a success, and he even added an outboard motor later so he did not have to row. His grandson Geoff remembered fishing with his grandfather and that Poldi never caught anything when fishing with him or his brothers. But that was in the 1960s, after the salmon fishery at Collinsville had closed and the river had been depleted. Lil remembered having fish for dinner often when she was young. She still does not like fish.
On March 16, 1933, Poldi and Maria were blessed with the birth of their only child, Lilia Louisa. She was baptized at the small Our Lady of Mount Carmel Chapel, originally named Madonna del Carmine. This chapel served the local Italian-American winemaking community and was known for its significant contributions, including the 1933 ordination of Father Carlo Rossi, the son of a local winery leader. Her godparents were Dante Caturegli (silent g) and Nerina Franceschi Caturegli, Maria’s first cousin. Lil remembered that, when she was young, she, Poldi, and Maria did not go to church regularly, since the closest Catholic church to Nichols was St. Francis in Port Chicago. It was a little distance away, but as Lil got older and her first communion approached, they attended more often.
Lil grew up among the Furlan-speaking families and had many good friends, especially Norma Bomben. Her father built her a playhouse where all the kids could come to play. She attended the Nichols School like all the other children. The whole school population was about 35 students annually.
Lil fondly remembered that she had a dog growing up. He was a small, light-colored dog named Butch, probably some kind of mix that was given to them by someone in town. Butch and Poldi were very close. As the time drew near each day, Butch would go outside to wait for Poldi to come home from work. Because Poldi’s shifts varied, Butch would sometime get the time wrong, but he would always adjust the next day.
Entertainment changed some through the 1940s and 1950s. Poldi bought a portable radio at some point which he put in the kitchen, and it became a focal point. Lil remembered sitting between the refrigerator and the radio, listening to shows like The Shadow (“Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Shadow knows!”). Poldi also bought a piano so that Lil could learn to play. Later, when television became available, the entertainment focus shifted from the kitchen to the living room. Lil said they used to eat in the dining room, but once they bought a TV, the dining room became more of a living room and they started eating in the kitchen. Overall, things were pretty stable in Nichols…until the War came.
After December 7, 1941, and the attack on Pearl Harbor, Germany and Italy, as allies of Japan, declared war on the US. This put many Italian Americans in a difficult position. In 1942, there were 695,000 Italian immigrants in the United States (not to mention many more Americans of Italian descent). Some 1,881 immigrants were taken into custody and detained under wartime restrictions, especially to exclude them from sensitive coastal areas. Primarily, these people were diplomats, businessmen, and Italian nationals who were students in the US. In addition, merchant seamen trapped in US ports by the outbreak of war were detained.
Poldi was well respected at the chemical factory. His sister Palmira had described their father Tita as someone who could “see beyond the mountains.” Poldi inherited that same knack. He could easily handle big picture and small details in his head, which was why he could figure out how to build or fix anything. He did mental math quickly and easily. While working at General Chemical, he was the one to devise a seven-day cycle of three shifts (either midnight to 8 am, 8am to 4pm, or 4pm to midnight) with recovery days in between for all employees so that the factory could run 24-7 through the War. It meant that that a third of the workforce was sleeping during the day, but with shift variations in different cycles, no one got stuck in the same shift for an extended time. It was an effective technique for recovery and relief before unions. The children had to be quiet if they played outside, of course.
Maria, like most of the Zoppolani wives, was an excellent cook. Her daughter remembered her chicken and her pasta best. On special occasions, Maria made risotto. Her cousin’s wife Elena Franceschi made awesome ravioli.
For entertainment, Poldi fixed things and Maria knitted and crocheted. She also sewed beautifully. But mostly they visited friends and family. Maria rarely missed a morning cup of coffee with Sylvia Bomben. Since Poldi had a car, he would sometimes pick up his brother Johnny from Crockett to come for Sunday dinner. His other brother Andrea, Emilia, and John would sometimes take the Greyhound bus up to Nichols for the weekend to visit the Quattrins and Petrises. Nichols was not a regular stop for the bus, so Poldi and Lil would walk out to the road (the old Port Chicago Highway) to flag down the bus to let the relatives off.
Occasionally, the family would travel to San Francisco to go shopping downtown. Shopping on Market Street or at Union Square used to be an event for which everyone dressed up. The trip always included a visit to Potrero Hill to see his brother, as well as all the other Zoppolani in the area.
Lil remembered that they mostly made their own entertainment. Baseball was big in Nichols, just as it was in farming communities across the country. There was a field in Ambrose where the local team would play against rivals in Pittsburg, Antioch, and Rio Vista. Poldi might have watched occasionally, but he was a devoted bocce baller.
Poldi also loved fishing in the nearby Sacrament Delta. The river was teaming with salmon, sturgeon, catfish, and striped bass, as well as smaller fish like smelt, anchovies, and herrings. Being Poldi, he decided to build his own rowboat. People walking by would tease him and say it was going to sink as soon as it touched the water. But Poldi always knew what he was doing when it came to construction. The boat was a success, and he even added an outboard motor later so he did not have to row. His grandson Geoff remembered fishing with his grandfather and that Poldi never caught anything when fishing with him or his brothers. But that was in the 1960s, after the salmon fishery at Collinsville had closed and the river had been depleted. Lil remembered having fish for dinner often when she was young. She still does not like fish.
On March 16, 1933, Poldi and Maria were blessed with the birth of their only child, Lilia Louisa. She was baptized at the small Our Lady of Mount Carmel Chapel, originally named Madonna del Carmine. This chapel served the local Italian-American winemaking community and was known for its significant contributions, including the 1933 ordination of Father Carlo Rossi, the son of a local winery leader. Her godparents were Dante Caturegli (silent g) and Nerina Franceschi Caturegli, Maria’s first cousin. Lil remembered that, when she was young, she, Poldi, and Maria did not go to church regularly, since the closest Catholic church to Nichols was St. Francis in Port Chicago. It was a little distance away, but as Lil got older and her first communion approached, they attended more often.
Lil grew up among the Furlan-speaking families and had many good friends, especially Norma Bomben. Her father built her a playhouse where all the kids could come to play. She attended the Nichols School like all the other children. The whole school population was about 35 students annually.
Lil fondly remembered that she had a dog growing up. He was a small, light-colored dog named Butch, probably some kind of mix that was given to them by someone in town. Butch and Poldi were very close. As the time drew near each day, Butch would go outside to wait for Poldi to come home from work. Because Poldi’s shifts varied, Butch would sometime get the time wrong, but he would always adjust the next day.
Entertainment changed some through the 1940s and 1950s. Poldi bought a portable radio at some point which he put in the kitchen, and it became a focal point. Lil remembered sitting between the refrigerator and the radio, listening to shows like The Shadow (“Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Shadow knows!”). Poldi also bought a piano so that Lil could learn to play. Later, when television became available, the entertainment focus shifted from the kitchen to the living room. Lil said they used to eat in the dining room, but once they bought a TV, the dining room became more of a living room and they started eating in the kitchen. Overall, things were pretty stable in Nichols…until the War came.
After December 7, 1941, and the attack on Pearl Harbor, Germany and Italy, as allies of Japan, declared war on the US. This put many Italian Americans in a difficult position. In 1942, there were 695,000 Italian immigrants in the United States (not to mention many more Americans of Italian descent). Some 1,881 immigrants were taken into custody and detained under wartime restrictions, especially to exclude them from sensitive coastal areas. Primarily, these people were diplomats, businessmen, and Italian nationals who were students in the US. In addition, merchant seamen trapped in US ports by the outbreak of war were detained.
There were no wholesale internments of Italians in California as there were for the Japanese, but as many as 1,000 Italians were relocated away from military bases. Italians who had not received citizenship yet were put on the Alien Enemies list. This included Maria’s sister-in-law Emilia, among many other Zoppolani. They had to apply for exemption from the list. “Enemy aliens” were required to register at post offices, be fingerprinted, photographed, and carry identification cards. Italian labor leaders lobbied for recognition of Italian-Americans who had initiated naturalization before the war broke out as loyal and not as enemy aliens. They objected to blanket classification of Italian nationals as subversives. But movement on that front was slow because of all the War hysteria. Maria had avoided the list by passing her English and Citizenship test on June 1, 1940 at Mt. Diablo High’s Adult Education Program.
With many men entering the draft and an increase in production at General Chemical, the women of Nichols entered the workforce. Maria took shifts where she worked in packing the chemicals needed for the war effort. Allied Chemical's Nichols plant primarily produced inorganic chemicals, especially sulfuric acid. The largest single use of sulfuric acid, though, was in the production of phosphate-based fertilizers, crucial for crop yield. Sulfuric acid was also used in metal processing, such as the "pickling" (cleaning) of iron and steel sheets before they were coated with tin or zinc for use in making cans. Nitrogen products, including synthetic ammonia, could be converted to nitric acid for use in explosives and fertilizers for wartime agricultural production. Because they handled insecticides, Maria and the other women had to get blood tests every few weeks to make sure they stayed healthy.
Again, according to the website of the General Chemical Group (www.genchem.com):
Despite managerial difficulties at Allied, General Chemical performed well [during the War], expanding its operations nationwide and building large production plants and renovating others. New products were introduced and processes for producing heavy chemicals, including alum, soda ash, and a spectrum of sulfur-based chemicals were improved and refined. During World War II, General Chemical facilities in Bay Point and Richmond, California, Claymont, Delaware, Point Pleasant, West Virginia, and elsewhere increased production to meet war efforts. Several company operations were awarded the Army-Navy 'E' award for excellence four years in a row.
Maria and Poldi did not see a lot of each other over the next four years. They worked different shifts so someone was always home for Lil. Poldi had to take on more domestic roles, and Lil thought he was a good cook as well. (Her sons disagree. They remembered him frying salami for breakfast if Maria was not around. Smelled great…tasted aweful!) Maria was thorough and disciplined at work and basically became a shift foreman. She actually earned more money than Poldi. With rationing, though, there was not a lot to spend the extra cash on.
Most people do not know that there were Italian prisoners of war (POW) camps near Pittsburg, including at the Benicia Arsenal and Camp Stoneman. There was also a branch camp near Byron Hot Springs. After the Italians surrendered and switched to the Allied side in1943, a large number of Italian POWs joined the Italian Service Units (ISUs), volunteering to work on Army depots, arsenals, farms, hospitals, canneries, or on other projects, partially filling labor needs while American men were in the military. The ISUs were granted better housing and significant freedom of movement. They dug vegetable gardens and made bocce ball courts. They were allowed to go the mass in local churches, interacting with the local community. Some families, including the Quattrins and Petrises, invited the ISU volunteers into their homes and treated them to home-cooked meals. Lil remembered that there were two particular ISU members who were from the Venice area that came for dinner often. They had to be accompanied by American servicemen, but the soldiers did not mind—they loved the meals as well. These Italians remained friends long after the war.
In Nichols, the biggest event of the War was the Port Chicago disaster. According to the article The Impact of the Port Chicago Disaster (Military.com, 2018):
The date was July 17, 1944. The place: the munitions facility at Port Chicago, California, 35 miles north of San Francisco. Black Navy personnel units had been assigned to the dangerous work of loading munitions, with loading happening around the clock. On the evening of July 17, empty merchant ship SS Quinault Victory was prepared for loading on her maiden voyage. The SS E.A. Bryan, another merchant ship, had just returned from her first voyage and was loading across the platform from Quinault Victory. The holds were packed with high explosive and incendiary bombs, depth charges and ammunition -- 4,606 tons of ammunition in all. There were 16 rail cars on the pier with another 429 tons. Working in the area were 320 cargo handlers, crewmen and sailors.
At 10:18 p.m., an explosion ripped apart the night sky. Witnesses said that a brilliant white flash shot into the air, accompanied by a loud, sharp report. Flashing like fireworks, smaller explosions went off in the cloud as it rose. Within six seconds, a deeper explosion erupted as the contents of the E.A. Bryan detonated in one massive explosion. The seismic shock wave was felt as far away as Boulder City, Nevada.
With many men entering the draft and an increase in production at General Chemical, the women of Nichols entered the workforce. Maria took shifts where she worked in packing the chemicals needed for the war effort. Allied Chemical's Nichols plant primarily produced inorganic chemicals, especially sulfuric acid. The largest single use of sulfuric acid, though, was in the production of phosphate-based fertilizers, crucial for crop yield. Sulfuric acid was also used in metal processing, such as the "pickling" (cleaning) of iron and steel sheets before they were coated with tin or zinc for use in making cans. Nitrogen products, including synthetic ammonia, could be converted to nitric acid for use in explosives and fertilizers for wartime agricultural production. Because they handled insecticides, Maria and the other women had to get blood tests every few weeks to make sure they stayed healthy.
Again, according to the website of the General Chemical Group (www.genchem.com):
Despite managerial difficulties at Allied, General Chemical performed well [during the War], expanding its operations nationwide and building large production plants and renovating others. New products were introduced and processes for producing heavy chemicals, including alum, soda ash, and a spectrum of sulfur-based chemicals were improved and refined. During World War II, General Chemical facilities in Bay Point and Richmond, California, Claymont, Delaware, Point Pleasant, West Virginia, and elsewhere increased production to meet war efforts. Several company operations were awarded the Army-Navy 'E' award for excellence four years in a row.
Maria and Poldi did not see a lot of each other over the next four years. They worked different shifts so someone was always home for Lil. Poldi had to take on more domestic roles, and Lil thought he was a good cook as well. (Her sons disagree. They remembered him frying salami for breakfast if Maria was not around. Smelled great…tasted aweful!) Maria was thorough and disciplined at work and basically became a shift foreman. She actually earned more money than Poldi. With rationing, though, there was not a lot to spend the extra cash on.
Most people do not know that there were Italian prisoners of war (POW) camps near Pittsburg, including at the Benicia Arsenal and Camp Stoneman. There was also a branch camp near Byron Hot Springs. After the Italians surrendered and switched to the Allied side in1943, a large number of Italian POWs joined the Italian Service Units (ISUs), volunteering to work on Army depots, arsenals, farms, hospitals, canneries, or on other projects, partially filling labor needs while American men were in the military. The ISUs were granted better housing and significant freedom of movement. They dug vegetable gardens and made bocce ball courts. They were allowed to go the mass in local churches, interacting with the local community. Some families, including the Quattrins and Petrises, invited the ISU volunteers into their homes and treated them to home-cooked meals. Lil remembered that there were two particular ISU members who were from the Venice area that came for dinner often. They had to be accompanied by American servicemen, but the soldiers did not mind—they loved the meals as well. These Italians remained friends long after the war.
In Nichols, the biggest event of the War was the Port Chicago disaster. According to the article The Impact of the Port Chicago Disaster (Military.com, 2018):
The date was July 17, 1944. The place: the munitions facility at Port Chicago, California, 35 miles north of San Francisco. Black Navy personnel units had been assigned to the dangerous work of loading munitions, with loading happening around the clock. On the evening of July 17, empty merchant ship SS Quinault Victory was prepared for loading on her maiden voyage. The SS E.A. Bryan, another merchant ship, had just returned from her first voyage and was loading across the platform from Quinault Victory. The holds were packed with high explosive and incendiary bombs, depth charges and ammunition -- 4,606 tons of ammunition in all. There were 16 rail cars on the pier with another 429 tons. Working in the area were 320 cargo handlers, crewmen and sailors.
At 10:18 p.m., an explosion ripped apart the night sky. Witnesses said that a brilliant white flash shot into the air, accompanied by a loud, sharp report. Flashing like fireworks, smaller explosions went off in the cloud as it rose. Within six seconds, a deeper explosion erupted as the contents of the E.A. Bryan detonated in one massive explosion. The seismic shock wave was felt as far away as Boulder City, Nevada.
The E.A. Bryan and the structures around the pier were completely disintegrated. A pillar of fire and smoke stretched more than two miles into the sky above Port Chicago. The largest remaining pieces of the 7,200-ton ship were the size of a suitcase. A plane flying at 9,000 feet reported seeing chunks of white-hot metal "as big as a house" flying past. The shattered Quinault Victory was spun into the air. Witnesses reported seeing a 200-foot column on which rode the bow of the ship, its mast still attached. Its remains crashed back into the bay 500 feet away.
All 320 men on duty that night were killed instantly. The blast smashed buildings and rail cars near the pier and damaged every building in Port Chicago. People on the base and in town were sent flying or were sprayed with splinters of glass and other debris. The air filled with the sharp cracks and dull thuds of smoldering metal and unexploded shells as they showered back to Earth as far as two miles away. The blast caused damage 48 miles across the bay in San Francisco.
https://www.military.com/history/port-chicago-disaster-remembered.html
Ten-year-old Lil was spending the night at Art Franceschi’s house in Ambrose. Art and his family had moved there in 1941 and he made his living with a barber shop in his new home. As she remembered,
Luckily, there were two explosions. The first was the ship that was being loaded. When that went off, most people thought it was the Japanese bombing and went for cover. We were sitting at the table, and we got up to start for the door when the second loaded ship went off, breaking the windows and scattering glass all over the table where we had been sitting.
My father was able to drive over to us and tell us what had happened. We had tar covered windows for a month. The good thing (to us children) was that all the kids could not go to school. We were sent to Marsh Creek during the day where I learned to swim. 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.
There was a day-camp at Masch Creek Springs, about 55 miles to the southeast of Ambrose in the current town of Brentwood. Two hundred children were bussed there every day for a month in order to remove the children from the damaged and potentially dangerous areas.
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.
The disaster at Port Chicago and its aftermath are important moments in Black history. The events caught the attention of civil rights activist and chief counsel of the NAACP, Thurgood Marshall. He believed that the court-martial unjustly charged the sailors with mutiny.
Furthermore, he called for a government investigation of the Navy’s practice of assigning Black service members to segregated support roles, as well as the unsafe conditions in which the sailors worked. Bringing national attention to these issues contributed to the executive order that desegregated the military in 1948. The legacies of the Port Chicago sailors still resonate today.
In 2024—eighty years after the disaster—the Navy officially exonerated the 50 sailors. It was acknowledged that the sailors’ refusal to work was a protest against unsafe conditions and that the original trial was unjust.
After the War, the military and Camp Stoneman continued to play a role in Poldi and Maria’s life. Poldi’s nephew Battista joined the Army in 1946, and, though he was hoping to go overseas to Japan, they posted him to Camp Stoneman for two years as a supply sergeant in the Quartermaster Corps. Like the ISU members, Battista spent his leave time in Nichols with his aunts and uncles, getting homecooked meals and having his laundry done. In return, he “liberated” fatigues that were to be thrown out and gave them to his uncles to wear to work. He also got used blankets and other supplies and materials to send back to the family in Zoppola.
While it thrived filling war effort needs, General Chemical experienced a general decline after the war. Competition stiffened, and company policies and facilities were neglected and became outdated. By the late 1940s, General Chemical had decided that company housing was no longer sustainable. Decades of wear and tear meant the houses needed extensive repairs and upgrading, which the Company could not afford. It was decided to end the Company housing program. The houses would be torn down and the land sold to developers. The Petrises moved to a new house at 44 Hill Street in Ambrose in 1948. Poldi decided to buy land and build his own house, just as his brother had done back in Zoppola in 1927. The lot was a few blocks northeast of the Petris house, at 64 Alves Lane. The Franceschis lived around the corner. At the time, the houses were in Ambrose, but, by the 1960s, the lines had been redrawn, and the houses were in West Pittsburg. By the late 1980s, the lines were redrawn again, and they were in Bay Point. (That all still annoys Lil! Bay Point was another place entirely in the ‘30s.)
Poldi built the new house himself, with help from a few friends and family. It was finished in 1951. Much like the one in Nichols, it was two bedrooms and one bath, but it was 1126 square feet on a 7000 square-foot lot—probably 50% bigger than the old house and plenty of room to expand as needed. This one did have air conditioning and central heating, as well as a separate formal dining room and an indoor laundry room. Poldi even dug a root cellar where he could press wine. (When it was later put up for sale, the cellar was advertised as a “hidden treasure room.”) A driveway down the right side led to a detached garage where the piano resided. There was a big walnut tree in the yard as well as white fig and pear trees, and visitors usually left with shopping bags full of walnuts and fruit. Later, Poldi added a paneled bonus room and a large sheltered brick patio with a giant barbeque pit. The yard became reminiscent to the Quattrin patio back home in Zoppola.
All 320 men on duty that night were killed instantly. The blast smashed buildings and rail cars near the pier and damaged every building in Port Chicago. People on the base and in town were sent flying or were sprayed with splinters of glass and other debris. The air filled with the sharp cracks and dull thuds of smoldering metal and unexploded shells as they showered back to Earth as far as two miles away. The blast caused damage 48 miles across the bay in San Francisco.
https://www.military.com/history/port-chicago-disaster-remembered.html
Ten-year-old Lil was spending the night at Art Franceschi’s house in Ambrose. Art and his family had moved there in 1941 and he made his living with a barber shop in his new home. As she remembered,
Luckily, there were two explosions. The first was the ship that was being loaded. When that went off, most people thought it was the Japanese bombing and went for cover. We were sitting at the table, and we got up to start for the door when the second loaded ship went off, breaking the windows and scattering glass all over the table where we had been sitting.
My father was able to drive over to us and tell us what had happened. We had tar covered windows for a month. The good thing (to us children) was that all the kids could not go to school. We were sent to Marsh Creek during the day where I learned to swim. 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.
There was a day-camp at Masch Creek Springs, about 55 miles to the southeast of Ambrose in the current town of Brentwood. Two hundred children were bussed there every day for a month in order to remove the children from the damaged and potentially dangerous areas.
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.
The disaster at Port Chicago and its aftermath are important moments in Black history. The events caught the attention of civil rights activist and chief counsel of the NAACP, Thurgood Marshall. He believed that the court-martial unjustly charged the sailors with mutiny.
Furthermore, he called for a government investigation of the Navy’s practice of assigning Black service members to segregated support roles, as well as the unsafe conditions in which the sailors worked. Bringing national attention to these issues contributed to the executive order that desegregated the military in 1948. The legacies of the Port Chicago sailors still resonate today.
In 2024—eighty years after the disaster—the Navy officially exonerated the 50 sailors. It was acknowledged that the sailors’ refusal to work was a protest against unsafe conditions and that the original trial was unjust.
After the War, the military and Camp Stoneman continued to play a role in Poldi and Maria’s life. Poldi’s nephew Battista joined the Army in 1946, and, though he was hoping to go overseas to Japan, they posted him to Camp Stoneman for two years as a supply sergeant in the Quartermaster Corps. Like the ISU members, Battista spent his leave time in Nichols with his aunts and uncles, getting homecooked meals and having his laundry done. In return, he “liberated” fatigues that were to be thrown out and gave them to his uncles to wear to work. He also got used blankets and other supplies and materials to send back to the family in Zoppola.
While it thrived filling war effort needs, General Chemical experienced a general decline after the war. Competition stiffened, and company policies and facilities were neglected and became outdated. By the late 1940s, General Chemical had decided that company housing was no longer sustainable. Decades of wear and tear meant the houses needed extensive repairs and upgrading, which the Company could not afford. It was decided to end the Company housing program. The houses would be torn down and the land sold to developers. The Petrises moved to a new house at 44 Hill Street in Ambrose in 1948. Poldi decided to buy land and build his own house, just as his brother had done back in Zoppola in 1927. The lot was a few blocks northeast of the Petris house, at 64 Alves Lane. The Franceschis lived around the corner. At the time, the houses were in Ambrose, but, by the 1960s, the lines had been redrawn, and the houses were in West Pittsburg. By the late 1980s, the lines were redrawn again, and they were in Bay Point. (That all still annoys Lil! Bay Point was another place entirely in the ‘30s.)
Poldi built the new house himself, with help from a few friends and family. It was finished in 1951. Much like the one in Nichols, it was two bedrooms and one bath, but it was 1126 square feet on a 7000 square-foot lot—probably 50% bigger than the old house and plenty of room to expand as needed. This one did have air conditioning and central heating, as well as a separate formal dining room and an indoor laundry room. Poldi even dug a root cellar where he could press wine. (When it was later put up for sale, the cellar was advertised as a “hidden treasure room.”) A driveway down the right side led to a detached garage where the piano resided. There was a big walnut tree in the yard as well as white fig and pear trees, and visitors usually left with shopping bags full of walnuts and fruit. Later, Poldi added a paneled bonus room and a large sheltered brick patio with a giant barbeque pit. The yard became reminiscent to the Quattrin patio back home in Zoppola.
The house in Ambrose was in Our Lady Queen of the World Catholic Parish. Being only four blocks from the Church, Poldi and Maria began to attend mass regularly. Maria became very involved by joining the Regina Mundi Guild which ran bake sales, spaghetti feeds, and other fundraising endeavors. She also joined the Altar Guild and decorated the Church for special occasions.
Poldi became a member of the Order Sons of Italy in America (aka the Sons of Italy), mostly likely in the Mt. Diablo Lodge. The Sons of Italy served as a crucial social center for many Italian-American communities, providing a space for social gatherings and hosting dances, banquets, and picnics. The Sons of Italy (OSIA) had a long-standing campaign to make Columbus Day a federal holiday, succeeding in 1968 when President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the law. OSIA also supported the Immigration Act of 1965, which abolished the discriminatory 1924 McCarran-Walter Act that limited immigration from Southern Europe. The organization's philanthropic arm, the Sons of Italy Foundation, was established in 1959 to support various charitable causes. ISDA (Italian Sons and Daughters of America) also created ISDA Financial Life in 1960 to provide members with life insurance and other financial products.
Poldi loved to play bocce ball, and, of course, he had built the bocce ball courts at the nearby park. After a long set of games with friends, he would come back home and have a nice bourbon.
Lil did not get to enjoy the new house for long. She met 27-year-old Bennet Riley in 1953. Born in Boston, Ben was an ophthalmologist in the US Navy who was stationed at Port Chicago during the Korean War. Lil worked there as well, and mutual friends had invited them to a dinner party. They married on September 17, 1955, just three months after he was released from the service. They moved back to Boston, though they always intended to return to California. Two winters in Boston convinced Lil to move back sooner rather than later.
It was in Boston, on May 29, 1957, that Poldi and Maria became grandparents for the first time with the birth of Paul Christopher Riley. Paul was named after Poldi. (Lil could not quite bring herself to name him Leopoldo.) The Rileys moved back to the Bay Area where their next two sons were born—Mark Bennet in 1958 and Geoffrey Michael in 1963.
Geoff remembered Poldi and Maria as tremendous grandparents. They were always around and, after Poldi retired, they came over every day. He said they practically raised him and his brothers. Maria was always cooking or cleaning. She would come over to vacuum the house and do all the laundry. (Ben referred to her as the electric grandma.) Then she would sit and watch television with him—even baseball games and Jeopardy. Paul recalled that when he moved out of his first apartment, Maria and Zita came over to clean—but Paul still did not get his cleaning deposit back, despite the place being cleaner than it had ever been!
Poldi became a member of the Order Sons of Italy in America (aka the Sons of Italy), mostly likely in the Mt. Diablo Lodge. The Sons of Italy served as a crucial social center for many Italian-American communities, providing a space for social gatherings and hosting dances, banquets, and picnics. The Sons of Italy (OSIA) had a long-standing campaign to make Columbus Day a federal holiday, succeeding in 1968 when President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the law. OSIA also supported the Immigration Act of 1965, which abolished the discriminatory 1924 McCarran-Walter Act that limited immigration from Southern Europe. The organization's philanthropic arm, the Sons of Italy Foundation, was established in 1959 to support various charitable causes. ISDA (Italian Sons and Daughters of America) also created ISDA Financial Life in 1960 to provide members with life insurance and other financial products.
Poldi loved to play bocce ball, and, of course, he had built the bocce ball courts at the nearby park. After a long set of games with friends, he would come back home and have a nice bourbon.
Lil did not get to enjoy the new house for long. She met 27-year-old Bennet Riley in 1953. Born in Boston, Ben was an ophthalmologist in the US Navy who was stationed at Port Chicago during the Korean War. Lil worked there as well, and mutual friends had invited them to a dinner party. They married on September 17, 1955, just three months after he was released from the service. They moved back to Boston, though they always intended to return to California. Two winters in Boston convinced Lil to move back sooner rather than later.
It was in Boston, on May 29, 1957, that Poldi and Maria became grandparents for the first time with the birth of Paul Christopher Riley. Paul was named after Poldi. (Lil could not quite bring herself to name him Leopoldo.) The Rileys moved back to the Bay Area where their next two sons were born—Mark Bennet in 1958 and Geoffrey Michael in 1963.
Geoff remembered Poldi and Maria as tremendous grandparents. They were always around and, after Poldi retired, they came over every day. He said they practically raised him and his brothers. Maria was always cooking or cleaning. She would come over to vacuum the house and do all the laundry. (Ben referred to her as the electric grandma.) Then she would sit and watch television with him—even baseball games and Jeopardy. Paul recalled that when he moved out of his first apartment, Maria and Zita came over to clean—but Paul still did not get his cleaning deposit back, despite the place being cleaner than it had ever been!
As a grandfather, Geoff considered Poldi to be great. He was always around and available. When they were young and heard the train whistle, Poldi would run to get his car keys and would run back to take them to see the train go by. He was multitalented and tried to show the boys how to build and fix things. He was more of a do-er than a teacher, though. He made wooden toys, one of which Geoff still has.
Paul loved to recount their breakfast routine. Poldi would come into the kitchen, sit down at the table, and remain frozen while Maria served him. She would set the place ahead of time and bring his breakfast plate, turning it just the right way. Then she set his coffee down above his knife. Then she would place the newspaper above his plate—folded in half—and smooth it flat with her hands. Then she would get her plate and coffee and sit beside him. He would eat his breakfast and read the headlines and articles “above the fold.” After he was done eating, he would pick up the paper and quickly read the rest of it before going off to work or whatever he had planned for the day. Paul remembered that most of the ritual was performed in silence.
With grandchildren, Christmas, Easter, and Thanksgiving became even more special. The excitement of opening presents on Christmas morning. Easter Egg Hunts on the lawn. And the meals. Turkey and pasta at all three meals. Battista’s family had turkey at Thanksgiving, turkey or ham at Christmas, and leg of lamb at Easter. Always with pasta: manicotti, lasagna, or occasionally risotto.
In the early ‘60s, Poldi and Maria decided to buy a plot of land near Cloverdale with the Franceschis. Cloverdale is on Highway 101 in Sonoma County, north of Asti. They built two houses on the property to serve as vacation homes for the two families. The boys loved it up there. There were plenty of cousins and other kids around to play with. There were woods where they could run around. The river was right there to jump into if it got too hot. The town had a movie theater. There was even a place in nearby Calistoga where there were gliders. Their dad enjoyed that.
Paul loved to recount their breakfast routine. Poldi would come into the kitchen, sit down at the table, and remain frozen while Maria served him. She would set the place ahead of time and bring his breakfast plate, turning it just the right way. Then she set his coffee down above his knife. Then she would place the newspaper above his plate—folded in half—and smooth it flat with her hands. Then she would get her plate and coffee and sit beside him. He would eat his breakfast and read the headlines and articles “above the fold.” After he was done eating, he would pick up the paper and quickly read the rest of it before going off to work or whatever he had planned for the day. Paul remembered that most of the ritual was performed in silence.
With grandchildren, Christmas, Easter, and Thanksgiving became even more special. The excitement of opening presents on Christmas morning. Easter Egg Hunts on the lawn. And the meals. Turkey and pasta at all three meals. Battista’s family had turkey at Thanksgiving, turkey or ham at Christmas, and leg of lamb at Easter. Always with pasta: manicotti, lasagna, or occasionally risotto.
In the early ‘60s, Poldi and Maria decided to buy a plot of land near Cloverdale with the Franceschis. Cloverdale is on Highway 101 in Sonoma County, north of Asti. They built two houses on the property to serve as vacation homes for the two families. The boys loved it up there. There were plenty of cousins and other kids around to play with. There were woods where they could run around. The river was right there to jump into if it got too hot. The town had a movie theater. There was even a place in nearby Calistoga where there were gliders. Their dad enjoyed that.
The family had the cabin through the late 1970s, at which point it was sold. The boys had grown up and were not coming as often. In addition, the state had proposed a plan to move Highway 101, and the property might have been seized under eminent domain. The plan never came to fruition, but Poldi and Maria made a significant profit on the sale.
Poldi retired from Allied General Chemical in 1967 after having served the company for 44 years. As a parting gift, they gave him a fancy new fishing pole and tackle set. He used them liberally on the Russian River near Cloverdale. One day, he asked his grandsons to go fishing with him, but they had other things to do. And they teased him for never catching any fish when they were with him. He went alone for a few hours and, when he got back, he opened his cooler and took out fish after fish after fish after fish and slapped them down on the counter. It was not that he was a lousy fisherman. It was that the boys were always fooling around and scaring the fish away.
In the early 1970s, Maria’s sister Lidia died and left part of her estate to Lil. Lil had to travel several times to Zoppola to handle the inheritance and deal with the Italian legal system. Her parents traveled with her a couple of times to visit home and see siblings that were still there.
On July 25, 1982, Poldi and Maria celebrated their 50th anniversary. A low-key garden party was held at the Riley house in Concord, with many friends and family in attendance. There was a scrapbook of their life together which even included a congratulations postcard from the White House. No one is sure who swung that, but it was probably Ben. Geoff remembers that Lil bought the champagne early in the year and his brother Mark broke out a bottle when the Niners beat Dallas with “The Catch” in the NFC Championship game in January of 1982. Lil was not pleased.
Poldi retired from Allied General Chemical in 1967 after having served the company for 44 years. As a parting gift, they gave him a fancy new fishing pole and tackle set. He used them liberally on the Russian River near Cloverdale. One day, he asked his grandsons to go fishing with him, but they had other things to do. And they teased him for never catching any fish when they were with him. He went alone for a few hours and, when he got back, he opened his cooler and took out fish after fish after fish after fish and slapped them down on the counter. It was not that he was a lousy fisherman. It was that the boys were always fooling around and scaring the fish away.
In the early 1970s, Maria’s sister Lidia died and left part of her estate to Lil. Lil had to travel several times to Zoppola to handle the inheritance and deal with the Italian legal system. Her parents traveled with her a couple of times to visit home and see siblings that were still there.
On July 25, 1982, Poldi and Maria celebrated their 50th anniversary. A low-key garden party was held at the Riley house in Concord, with many friends and family in attendance. There was a scrapbook of their life together which even included a congratulations postcard from the White House. No one is sure who swung that, but it was probably Ben. Geoff remembers that Lil bought the champagne early in the year and his brother Mark broke out a bottle when the Niners beat Dallas with “The Catch” in the NFC Championship game in January of 1982. Lil was not pleased.
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Poldi passed away on June 7, 1984, at Mt Diablo Hospital in Concord. The cause of death was respiratory failure with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease as a contributing factor. He was just six weeks shy of his 82nd birthday. The rosary was held at Ouimet Brothers Concord Funeral Chapel, and, after a mass of Christian Burial at Our Lady Queen of the World Church in West Pittsburg, Poldi was laid to rest in Queen of Heaven Cemetery in Lafayette—Section A Row 17, near his brother Johnny.
Maria had many friends and great social support over the next sixteen years. She continued to enjoy morning coffee with Lena Franceschi and working at the Church. Maria did travel with Lil back to Zoppola one more time around 1986, and, though the town had not changed much, most of the people she had known were gone.
Maria passed away on August 31, 2000, at the age of 91. As with Poldi and Johnny, the rosary was held at Ouimet Brothers Concord Funeral Chapel, and a mass was held at Our Lady Queen of the World Church. She was laid to rest in Queen of Heaven Cemetery in with Poldi.
Poldi had a look that made people think he was always angry or grumpy, but that was mostly because the corners of his mouth turn down. He seemed to never smile. But there was always a twinkle in his eye, like he knew something you did not and it amused him. He was actually quite warm and was a solid individual that people instantly felt they could trust. His hands were memorable—rugged, gnarled, and strong. He had a grip like a vise, but he never squeezed as hard as he could.
Maria was the perfect mate for Poldi. She was kind, warm, and supportive. They shared similar upbrings and family values. Over 50 years, Poldi and Maria were an example of the kind of partnership a marriage can and should be.
Maria passed away on August 31, 2000, at the age of 91. As with Poldi and Johnny, the rosary was held at Ouimet Brothers Concord Funeral Chapel, and a mass was held at Our Lady Queen of the World Church. She was laid to rest in Queen of Heaven Cemetery in with Poldi.
Poldi had a look that made people think he was always angry or grumpy, but that was mostly because the corners of his mouth turn down. He seemed to never smile. But there was always a twinkle in his eye, like he knew something you did not and it amused him. He was actually quite warm and was a solid individual that people instantly felt they could trust. His hands were memorable—rugged, gnarled, and strong. He had a grip like a vise, but he never squeezed as hard as he could.
Maria was the perfect mate for Poldi. She was kind, warm, and supportive. They shared similar upbrings and family values. Over 50 years, Poldi and Maria were an example of the kind of partnership a marriage can and should be.
