Here is an interview with Joseph Sousa from the book:

 In Search of My Father: Interview with Joseph Sousa*In Search of My Father
Interview with Joseph Sousa*

by Marsha McCabe

*Joseph Sousa's love affair with Madeira began when his immigrant father
told him how big everything was on that small island -- big vegetables, big
flowers, big mountains. His father, who died at 51, never got the chance to
return to the island. "Right then, I promised myself I would visit my
father's birthplace," says Joe. "My heart and soul wanted to go there. The
island was like a magnet, pulling me toward it."*

*Joe Sousa didn't just find his father's house, he found his heritage. Today
Joe Sousa is the guiding spirit behind the creation of a Madeiran museum in
New Bedford, featuring art, photographs, family history, textiles,
embroidery and other delights. "My father was a farmer and factory worker in
America. But he was also a poet, singer and story teller, traditions he
brought with him from Madeira. Why should they be lost?"*

*In Search of My Father's House*

I promised myself I would visit my father's birthplace when he died, but it
still took a long time to get there. We had six children and I was spending
long days, sometimes nights and weekends, working as a commercial artist so
it wasn't easy to get away. Finally my wife Dolores and I made the trip on
New Year's Day, 1980.

Tears came to our eyes in the plane when we looked down and saw the island.
Then, when, we saw we were going to land on top of the mountain -- the
runway begins at one edge and ends at the other. Some of the passengers
started blessing themselves!

The island is a dream, a regular Shangrila. It's only 35 miles long and 14
miles wide, but it's amazing what the island holds. You're in a different
world. You can smell the flowers. People will give

-- 129 --

you anything. I went to the archives and was able to locate my mother's
house in Santa Cruz. But my father's house was more of a problem. I went to
his village, Gaula, and asked to see the oldest person there. Several old
ladies came out of their houses, curious to know who I was.

I said I'm looking for the family of the Sousas. She says there's a lot of
them and she tells me different Sousa stories but none are the right Sousa.
Then I take my sunglasses off and walk toward her, and she points her
finger. ‘You have the face of Virginia Sousa,’ she says. Well, that's my
father's sister, Virginia! "Where is my father's house?" I asked her. She
points and says -- "It's the last house on top of the mountain." I know it's
going to take a day-and-a-half for us to get there and we don't have the
time. I swore I'd come back soon.

In 1983, I returned with three of my children, June, John and Rosemary.
Before leaving the U. S., I had corresponded with an old Madeiran in
Oakland, California, a man who came from the same village as my father, and
I asked him for directions. They read, "Go to the church, go down the path,
pass by the Vieira house, pass the banana plantation, go along the
*levada*(canal), and so forth."

A taxi took us part way, then we began climbing. At the top of the mountain,
we found my father's house. It was all broken down, open windows and door,
dirt floor, pieces of a bed. But that didn't matter. I was swept away by the
beauty of the place, and I bawled. Then I got mad at my father for ever
leaving Madeira. No matter how poor he was, he had it all already!

*My Father in America:*

My father left his beautiful island at 18. His mother died when he was 12
and his grandfather was left to raise seven children. When they grew up,
some of these kids went to Brazil, a sister went to France and my father Joe
came to the U. S., where he settled in New Bedford.

Joe saw the woman who would become my mother from a distance and liked her.
She (Maria) would go to church with her family and he would go too, just to
see her. He would wink at her and he knew she knew. Gradually, he inserted
himself into her family, but he could never be alone with her. Even when my
father went to get the engagement ring, he had to take one of her sisters.
After they married, they settled in Central Falls, Rhode Island, where they
both worked in a cotton mill. Madeirans stick together no matter what the
locale, and there were lots of Madeirans in Central Falls. But my
neighborhood was like the U. N. with Syrians, Polish, Irish and Italians as
well as Portuguese. My parents spoke to us in English.

During the Depression, nobody had anything and my father made moonshine to
survive. We lived in a six-tenement house and he made moonshine in the
cellar. He figured he would rather work than collect, right? He sold it in
five-gallon cans to clubs, bars and homes. The other families in the
tenement house would not complain because he was paying their rent too and
providing liquor and beer for celebrations like confirmation. My father was
like the banker.

The police loved my father but when the federals came in, that was a
different story. My father was always tipped off. It worked like this: A guy
would stop traffic manually for the trains coming into town. When this
individual saw the feds on the other side of the train, he'd tip off the
kids playing baseball near the tracks and they would run home and warn their
parents. I was one of those kids.

My father and mother returned to New Bedford in 1940 when I was 16 and my
dad bought a farm in Acushnet. He also worked as a longshoreman at Quonset
Point. During World War II, we raised pigs and chickens. My father wanted me
to continue my education, but I joined the Navy and served three-and-a-half
years. The day I got home, my father asked me to leave on my uniform and go
with him to Central Falls. He needed to pick up some citizenship papers and
thought the uniform would impress people so he'd have no problem getting the
papers.

-- 130 --

When we walked inside the police station, the chief beamed. He said --
'Jeez, Joe. Good to see you. You making moonshine in New Bedford?' Nobody
even noticed me in my uniform.

My father always talked a lot about Madeira and how big everything was --
big flowers, big vegetables, big mountains. He talked about running along
the *levadas...* Even today I picture him running. When I saw his house, I
realized how far he had to go to school. He had to go miles and miles every
single day and he ran all the way. After school, he worked cutting sugar
cane. But incredibly, he was a poet, a singer and a songwriter and I thought
he must have had some amazing teachers. He could meet you and make up a song
about you, just like that. He was extraordinary.

I would ask myself: How does he do that? Where does this come from? When I
visited the island, I knew it came from Madeira, where singing and
storytelling is an important part of life. The people brought these
traditions with them to America and I don't want them to be lost. That's why
I'm working to create a Madeiran museum in New Bedford.

We already have a building on Hope Street near Madeira Field. On my trips to
Madeira now, I return with more information on the culture and history of
the island. I have lots and lots of family histories. We plan to keep the
story of Madeira alive through art, photographs and family histories. The
museum will display Madeiran tapestries and embroidery. Trees and plants
will be planted around the building, even a grapevine. I'm writing grants
now and learning how hard it is to build a museum. But the thought of my
mother and father keeps me going. They came here with a rich tradition. Why
should these people be forgotten?

*Joseph Sousa was honored by the Club Madeirense in a celebration at the
Century House in January 1998. His engraved gold plaque reads: Lifetime
Achievement Award. Joe Sousa. In keeping alive the heritage, culture,
religious beliefs of all Madeirans.*

*Author Marsha McCabe is senior editor and writer at Spinner Publications
and an award winning columnist at* The Standard-Times.

-- 131 --



On Wed, Aug 18, 2010 at 2:53 AM, Don <drt...@aol.com> wrote:

> Amazon has the following info on cotton mills, etc.  you might be able
> to find the cotton mill in Taunton,  there were a few of them all over
> the south east coastal area of Mass.
>
>
>  1) --  The Third International Congress of Delegated Representatives
> of Master Cotton Spinners' and Manufacturers' Associations: Held in
> the Large Hall, Kunstlervereinshaus, ... Bremen, June 25th to 27th,
> 1906 [1906] by International congress of delegated representatives of
> master cotton spinners' and manufacturers' associations (Paperback -
> Dec 15, 2009) Buy new: $20.99  Get it by Thursday, Aug 19 if you order
> in the next 11 hours and choose one-day shipping. Eligible for FREE
> Super Saver Shipping.
> Excerpt - Front Matter: "... THE CONTINENT 31 DAMP IN COTTON.. 45 THE
> UNION OF PORTUGUESE COTTON SPINNERS 52 SECOND DAY'S ..."
>
> 2)  --  Portuguese Spinner: An American Story by Joseph D. Thomas,
> Donna Huse, Marsha L. McCabe, and Susana Coelho (Paperback - Nov 1,
> 1998)
> 8 used from $45.00
>
> You also might find information from the Spinner Publications of New
> Bedford, they have a lot of information in the form of books,
> articles, photos, etc.  site isas follows.
> http://www.spinnerpub.com/Home.html
>
> Hope this helps.
>
> Don Correia
>
>
>
>
>
> On Aug 17, 8:58 pm, Cheri Mello <gfsche...@gmail.com> wrote:
> > Sorry, it's worldcat.ORG
> > There's 115 hits.  I'm in CA, so it's routing based on my location (USC,
> > UCLA, many Cal State Universities).  Yes, you can go into a university
> and
> > use their library.  You may not be able to borrow the book, but you can
> copy
> > the relevant pages.
> >
> > Cheri
>
> --
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