Ironbound January - February 1972

 Myself on the left and Kuwenderson Walk on the right.

Since I arrived in Newark, N.J. on 2nd October 1971, and established myself in the Ironbound, more precisely on Wilson Avenue corner with Barbara Street I had a different set of Brazilian friends. Rodrigo who was actually Portuguese, was my very first friend, who turned out to be a room-mate as well. Soon after, I made acquaintances with three Mineiros - young men from Minas Gerais - who shared the room next to ours.

I met countless young Brazilians at Tia Eugênia's news-agency, or at a Brazilian coffee shop-cum-restaurant on the same side as Tia's shop on Ferry St. where there was a juke-box and I heard both Joan Baez's 'The night the drove Old Dixie down' and John Lennon's 'Imagine' for the first time ever. I found it funny how easily one made friends with Brazilians in Newark. People one wouldn't even bother to have a second look at in Brazil became instant friends in an American city. The simple fact of being from the same country made us all potential friends. I thought that was positive in a way.

After living in Newark for some weeks I realized there were 4 different groups of Brazilians: Mineiros, Paulistas, Paraenses and 'others'. Among Paulistas there were 2 sub-groups: young men from Guarulhos and another lot from Franco da Rocha, a small city near Jundiaí-SP. 

Kuwenderson was a Brazilian young man from Bahia who was utterly different from everyone else. He had been a college student in Salvador and was highly politicized. He was into left-wing politics and I could not understand how on earth he was living in the USA, the Mecca of capitalism. Actually he was in the US because he had two brothers already established in the New York area who had helped him find jobs and accomodation. Kuwenderson was partially deaf so he had an extra burden in understanding the English language. He could read English all right but he hardly understood the spoken language which made him irritable most of the time.

He was nice but very judgemental. When I most needed a few dollars he would not lend me any because he thought I had been irresponsible in having left my job and gone away to California. That irked me a lot but I kept cool for I could not annoy the very few friends I still had left. He would buy me a meal or two until the money my Dad sent me arrived.

I learned to appreciate Richard Wagner's music with Kuwenderson. He would play the 'Thannhäuser' overture and go into an ecstasy! It ended up becoming  one of my favourite classical pieces.

It was through Kuwenderson that I heard of Violeta Parra for the first time. Actually, he was living in Santigado, Chile when President Allende was overthrown and murdered on 11 September 1973. Nine-Eleven didn't start in 2001 in NYC but 28 years before in South America.

This was the vynil album Kuwenderson would play constantly.

Kuwenderson lived at Sing Sing too, I mean the Prudential Apartments on Fleming Avenue. So I started hanging around that tenement in the summer of '72. As I was out of work I had a lot of free time on my hands so I met a lot of Brazilian fellows who lived in the neighbourhood. As soon as I got my work back I started sharing an apartment at Sing Sing with Nagib Luiz, a Brazilian fellow of Arab extraction I met at the record factory. Nagib and Guto shared the living room of an apartment rented by Nagib's cousin Leila, her husband and a baby. So, I finally was living at the infamous Sing Sing after all.

Guto

Guto was a different kind of immigrant. He was a rock guitar player. More than this, Guto was highly cultured compared to the rest of us. He'd left Brazil for he was extremely angry with the Brazilian bureaucratic educational system. He had a dream of becoming an architec. He tried hard to get into University of São Paulo's FAU (Faculdade de Arquitetura e Urbanismo), the best school in the country. Even though he had been an excellent student and had scored high marks at the college-entrance-examination he would flunk the 'artistic examination'. He seemed to have been a victim of the University's internal politics. After taking two exams on two consecutive years and not being accepted he got bitter about the whole business and decided to go into voluntary exile. Guto was very good in dealing with numbers and got a better-than-average job working on a lathe at a scissor's factory in Newark's north side away from the Ironbound where most of us were confined.

Damazio had seen Guto playing his guitar at someone's flat earlier in 1972, and introduced me to him circa June when I was hanging around Sing Sing with nothing to do. Guto was a big fan of British rock bands especially the Who. As I was familiar with The Who's 'Tommy' opera-rock album I had something to talk about. Guto used to idolize Yes - progressive rock's ultimate heroes. I didn't know much about progressive rock but I sure knew Yes' 'Roundabout' that played a lot on San Francisco's FM radio-stations when I stayed in the West Coast recently. Guto was a fan of Led Zeppelin too. Every time we would go down for a bite at the Down Neck diner at the corner of Market St. & Fleming Ave. Guto would spend a quarter to play Led Zeppelin's 'Black dog'. He was the first person who told me about David Bowie's 'Ziggy Stardust & the Spiders from Mars' when Bowie was hardly known in the US.

Guto had plans to share an apartment with Luiz Alberto, an old friend of his from Brazil who was visiting him with the intention to stay. Alberto being a somewhat pampered young man would not blend in or put up with the Newark-crowd let alone dare go out and find a job in a factory. So Alberto ended up returning to Brazil before Fall would set in. Once I made the mistake of trying to play some Bob Dylan or Neil Young song with Alberto's guitar. He didn't say a word. After I finished my inglorious task he took the guitar back and played the Beatles' 'Blackbird' with all its splendor and complicated chords as if to say: 'Look, mate, you're no damn good!' I might be wrong there, of course, but that's the impression I had. Guto was not like that. Guto was an impressive guitar player but he was unassuming and a pleasant fellow. (Read more at https://newark-path-manhattan.blogspot.com/2020/10/66-columbia-street-newark-summer-1972.html

Guto on a very cold Saturday on Market Street, Newark, N.J. 9 December 1972.

Guto in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Guto & Myself on our way to Philadelphia P.A.; at this time I would not shave or cut my hair anymore.

Philadelphia felt like the Artic Circle; the wind blew like a hammer... and nobody showed up on the streets of Philadelphia.

Myself freezing up on the streets of Philadelphia... 9 December 1972.

Guto, Nagib and I went to see Grand Funk Railroad playing at the Madison Square Garden on Saturday, 23rd December 1972.

Nagib fakes playing Guto's guitar; he wears his beloved Lee overall. 

Wiss scissors' factory in 2013, a few weeks before being demolished. 

Wiss & Sons in 1969.

1930s.

This street photo was published in the "Newark Sunday News" on 6 March 1952 on page 6. On the back there is also the date 25 January 1930, which looks like when it was taken.

Before 1925 aerial view. Another story has been added to the main buildings. The roof line is changed and the cupolas are gone. The sign on the front was changed and razors has been dropped. The manufacture of straight razors was discontinued in the latter part of 1923. This image from the 1934 catalog. The identical picture was also in the 1925 catalog. The main buildings from the image were used as letterhead in the late 1920s.

Aerial view from the 1919 catalog. The building at the left with the flag now has awnings. The water tower and another water tank are new. There are more buildings in the surrounding neighborhood. With more factories in the background spewing smoke.

1911 aerial View. This from the 1912 catalog, but dated 1911, as the identical picture is dated as such in the 1911 catalog. The building length along Littleton Avenue is the same. The same image, without the air brushing to make it look cloud-like, exists as a postcard. This image was used as letterhead for many years after this. Nothing was cropped out. The only change for the letterhead was the sky above the smoke was removed. 

A circa 1906 postcard of the factory. The factory has already been expanded on both sides. Note the building starts with three stories at the near end and is four at the far end. A version of this also exists with a two line caption, the second line being "Main Building where WISS "Stielweld" Shears are made." Those postcards were sent out to their customers. This postcard (with single line caption) was reproduced on page 14 of Newark, The Golden Age, by Jean-Rae Turner, Richard T. Koles and Charles F. Cummings, 2003. The book's caption is riddled with errors. This factory did not begin in the 1840s, but was opened in 1887. J Wiss never made jewelry or silverware. The jewelry store branch of the company simply retailed these items. The Short Hills Mall branch was opened 1961, when the mall opened. It was not moved. The book is available at Amazon, and page 14 is in the preview.

A circa 1890 picture of the factory as originally built.  Frederick C.J. Wiss is standing in front of the right door facing forward. His younger brother Louis is to his left. Photo is from the Newark Public Library.