Stitch tradition

In 1967, Maria Matera packed her bags and said goodbye to her native Italy. It was Silvio’s idea. He’d started dating Maria when they both worked in a tailor shop in Cosenza. But the poor economy of post-World War II Italy left Silvio wanting a different future somewhere else.

He’d traveled across the country looking for a city that suited him, but in 1967 he accepted an invitation from friends in Vancouver, British Columbia, and then Spokane.

When he settled here, Maria followed him, and they were married. Six thousand miles from the people and place she knew, Maria felt isolated as a foreigner.

But the Materas slowly discovered they were not alone. Through associations, they met 12 other Italian immigrant couples, all from the southern state of Calabria, which has a population of slightly more than two million people.

“When I came here the first time, I don’t know anybody here,” said Maria, 66, when we talked to her this spring. “No friends, no relatives. Then I find these beautiful people right here.”

There was Pat Cozza, who’d come here at age 18 only to return after several years to marry his longtime girlfriend, Lidia, and bring her back to the United States. There was Joe Reillo and his wife Francesca, who’d followed her brother and father here. There were the Colistros, the Aiellos, the de Caros, the Ferranos, the Martires, the Naccaratos and eventually the Mancinis and Salamones.

They hadn’t known one another in Italy. They’d left for different reasons. It seemed pure coincidence that they’d all ended up in Spokane.

One day in early 1980, Francesca Reillo’s sister suggested the women create some sort of club to preserve their unique connection. They chose sewing as the activity they would share.

But Maria was the only one who really sewed, and since it was her day job, she was hoping to learn a new craft.

“I no want to sew because I sew all day,” Maria said in her heavy Italian accent.

So Francis would teach her to crochet.

Franca Mancini was known for knitting sweaters and others did embroidery.

Elvira Colistro named it the Sunshine Sewing Club and the first biweekly meeting was at Maria’s house – the same place they all gathered earlier this year to celebrate the 25th anniversary of what’s become much more than a casual exchange of needlepoint techniques.

Bonded by their common heritage, the women created a little Italy in Spokane.

Every guest at Maria’s house must have a cappuccino and a mountain of fresh cookies that she proudly distinguishes as Italian, not American. In between pictures of her two obviously Italian grandchildren, Matthew and Mason, the walls are lined with photos of her friends from the Sunshine Sewing Club.

When there is a graduation, a wedding or just a bad day, they are all there, usually with food, in true Italian style. When they’re together, they exclusively speak Italian – the very thing that’s made their American friendships a little difficult.

“Friends we have a lot, but the language is kind of tough for us,” Maria said.

Other than during the summer vacation months, the Sunshine sewers gather twice a month and take turns hosting the meetings that often last late into the night.

Over the years, the circle of seamstresses has become a circle of coffee drinkers who sometimes play bingo as they talk about their kids, the old country and how both have changed. Many of the members have traveled to Italy, sometimes together. There are many things they miss, but this is their home and this is their family.

“We support each other,” Francesca said.

Two original members, Assunta Ferrano and Maria Grave, the first president and only U.S.-born member, have passed away. Only four members’ husbands are still alive. It saddens Maria, who is one of the youngest group members. Most of the women are about 80 years old.

“I don’t want to lose them because they’re very precious to me,” she said. “This is very, very family. I love them more than my family in Italy.”

During the first 1980 meetings, Silvio never thought the club would last this long. He was thrilled when Maria became the president in 2001.

“Believe me, they have a great time,” he said.

But he can only base that on what he hears, since he’s kicked out of his own living room when feminine Italian chatter fills the house.

“Men go downstairs,” Maria said, gesturing toward the basement. “They don’t bother us.”

The men often drive the ladies when they want to go places, and sometimes they gather to play poker or watch Italian soccer on RAI International – an Italian TV channel several of them subscribe to. But even that is sometimes taken over by the women, who love the “beautiful soap operas.”

“They’re sending me crazy sometimes,” Silvio said.