The Shoemaker's Wife(124)
As the couples stepped off the platform at the Hibbing station, a bitter cold wind greeted them, nearly toppling Enza over. Ciro put his arm around his bride to guide her safely over the ice. Luigi followed with Pappina, worried that she might slip, and terrified that she and the baby would be injured. The air was so cold, they could barely catch their breath. The sky was saturated as blue as India ink, without a star in sight. Enza thought no place on earth could be colder than the Italian Alps, but now she knew she just had never been to Minnesota.
As they crossed Main Street, Enza could see that Hibbing was a city raised quickly on the outskirts of the mines. A collection of new buildings including a hospital, a school, a hotel, and a few stores stood away from the landscape like stakes plummeted into the flat earth. The architecture of the buildings was serviceable and plain, with thick windows, sturdy doors, and functional trim, including spikes attached to every roof to break the ice that inevitably formed during the long winters. There was nothing grand about Hibbing; it was built to withstand the harsh elements.
As they passed the Hibbing department store, Enza noticed that the mannequins in the window did not wear gowns of silk and brocade they might in B. Altman’s in Manhattan; rather, they were outfitted in wool coats, boots, and scarves, the couture of subzero living.
Pappina took note of the construction of the buildings along Pine Street, where a red-brick schoolhouse faced the Carnegie Library. Scaffolds, ladders, and the open steel frames of unfinished buildings were set against the sky like pencil slashes. Hibbing was growing, and not even a Minnesota blizzard would halt the progress.
As a mother-to-be, Pappina’s first concern was where her children would be educated. She also looked at the modest homes that lined the streets, full of children who would become potential playmates. She saw snow-covered lawns and sledding hills with sleek grooves carved into them. The town was tidy, sidewalks were shoveled, and the parking lots were scraped clean of snow. The stable lights glowed outside the barns off Main Street, indicating that while the area was industrial, they didn’t have machines for everything just yet. A horse-drawn carriage was still a popular mode of transportation in this part of the world.
“Just a few more steps,” Ciro shouted over the wind as he guided the group to the entrance of the Hotel Oliver. Ciro held the door open for Pappina and Enza, who were so thrilled to be inside in the warmth, they embraced.
Luigi followed them inside, carrying the bags like a good sherpa, handing Ciro’s off to him. They peeled off their hats, coats, and gloves. The hostess sat them in a Victorian dining room, decorated with lace curtains and polished walnut tables with matching chairs. The crackling fire in the hearth warmed them immediately. The scent of the burning pine was sweetly fragrant and welcoming. Miner’s lamps were used on every table instead of traditional candlelight. “We know who runs the town here,” Luigi commented as he placed a napkin on his lap.
“They do it with a pick and shovel,” Pappina said.
“Mr. Latini?” A sturdily built man around forty joined them at the table. He wore a wool suit and tie, and snow boots on his feet.
“You must be Mel Butorac,” Luigi said as he stood and shook his hand. Luigi had sent a telegram from New York to Mel Butorac, a local businessman who leased real estate to entrepreneurs and helped them set up their businesses with the local banks.
“Ciro, this is the fellow who lured us up here to make boots.” Ciro stood and shook Mel’s hand. They introduced their wives and pulled up a chair so Mel might join them.
“How was your trip?” Mel seemed friendly and energetic.
“I think the trip across the ocean was faster.” Pappina smiled.
“I wouldn’t know.” Mel smiled. “I’ve only been as far south as the Twin Cities. Someday I hope to visit my cousins in Croatia.”
“Nothing like the Adriatic Sea in the summertime,” Luigi said.
“I’ve heard,” Mel agreed. “I’m here to help you make a smooth transition. The city government is here to provide whatever assistance you need. We want to make you feel at home.”
“You said you had some real estate for us to look at,” Luigi said.
“I do. But I wanted to offer up an idea. I know your plan was to open a shop together, but the truth is, we need a shoemaker in Hibbing, but there is also a need for one down the road in Chisholm. If you split up, you could open two shops and still have plenty of work.”
Enza leaned back in her chair. They just dropped their luggage, and already the deal was no longer the deal as it had been presented to them in New York.
Ciro could see that Enza was concerned, so he said, “This isn’t what you promised.”
“Of course I will show you the real estate for the shop here in Hibbing as planned. All I ask is that you keep an open mind about Chisholm,” Mel said in a tone that told Luigi and Ciro that he had given this speech before to other tradesmen lured to the Iron Range to serve the mining industry. “Hear me out. I didn’t mean to mislead you in any way. The conditions on the Iron Range change daily. Mines open, we get an influx of new workers, and we have to meet their needs. Give me a chance to show you what I’m talking about. Have your dinner, get a good night’s sleep, and I can show you both properties in the morning. I have a truck, and we can go over to Chisholm and you can take a look around. You may like what you see, and if you don’t, we’ll stick with the original plan. Fair enough?” Mel proposed.