{"@context":"http://iiif.io/api/presentation/3/context.json","id":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/iiif/th8bg2hz1j/manifest","type":"Manifest","label":{"en":["Argento, Theresa, 2004 March 9"]},"logo":"https://d9jk7wjtjpu5g.cloudfront.net/organizations/logo_images/000/000/013/original/yale-blue.png?1678220072","metadata":[{"label":{"en":["Preferred Citation"]},"value":{"en":["Argento, Theresa, 2004 March 9. Oral Histories Documenting New Haven, Connecticut (RU 1055). Manuscripts and Archives, Yale University Library.\n\n https://archives.yale.edu/repositories/12/resources/2867."]}},{"label":{"en":["Source Metadata URI"]},"value":{"en":["https://archives.yale.edu/repositories/12/archival_objects/1002505"]}},{"label":{"en":["Publisher"]},"value":{"en":["Manuscripts and Archives, Yale University Library."]}},{"label":{"en":["Rights Statement"]},"value":{"en":["The materials are open for research.\n\nOriginal audiovisual materials, as well as preservation and duplicating masters, may not be played. Researchers must consult use copies, or if none exist must pay for a use copy, which is retained by the repository. Researchers wishing to obtain an additional copy for their personal use should consult Copying Services information on the Manuscripts and Archives web site."]}},{"label":{"en":["Identifier"]},"value":{"en":["mssa.ru.1055 (EAD ID)","RU 1055 (Call Number)","01 Track 01.mp3 (Digital Object ID)","ru_1055_2008-a-001_Argento.mp3 (Digital Object ID)"]}},{"label":{"en":["Date"]},"value":{"en":["2004 March 9 (Creation)"]}},{"label":{"en":["Description"]},"value":{"en":["Theresa Argento recalls life before and during urban renewal in Wooster Square. One of seven children born to Italian immigrant Nadio Carrano, Argento offers memories of the neighborhood and family life pre-redevelopment -- comparisons to life in Amalfi, the role of the Sargent Hardware Company in the neighborhood, trips to Lighthouse Point, Lucibello's Pastry Shop, and to New York City to see Frank Sinatra sing. Her family owned Carrano's produce market on Chapel Street, which was demolished in the course of construction of interstate 91. Argento describes being evicted from the family's home above the store, and moving with her mother to the Annex section of New Haven. She also describes how redevelopment affected the St. Andrews Society, an Italian fraternal organization, and St. Michael's Church. Argento often gathers with other former neighborhood residents to reminisce about the old neighborhood at events like the Saint Andrews Feast and the Wooster Square Cherry Blossom Festival. \n\nInterviewer: Barca, Sarah \n\nLength (min): 65 (Scope and Content Note)","https://preservica.library.yale.edu/explorer/explorer.html#prop:4\u0026amp;b0bcbaf4-cade-47bb-beac-db9932279858 (Other Finding Aid Note)","A copy of this material is available in digital form from Manuscripts and Archives and online. (Altformavail)"]}},{"label":{"en":["Format"]},"value":{"en":["computer files (wav)","duration_HH_MM_SS_mmm","audio/mpeg"]}},{"label":{"en":["Preservica Representation Type"]},"value":{"en":["Access-2"]}},{"label":{"en":["Preservica Uri"]},"value":{"en":["/structural-objects/5b318350-d8e7-4ee4-a9d4-509e860bbf93"]}}],"summary":{"en":["Theresa Argento recalls life before and during urban renewal in Wooster Square. One of seven children born to Italian immigrant Nadio Carrano, Argento offers memories of the neighborhood and family life pre-redevelopment -- comparisons to life in Amalfi, the role of the Sargent Hardware Company in the neighborhood, trips to Lighthouse Point, Lucibello's Pastry Shop, and to New York City to see Frank Sinatra sing. Her family owned Carrano's produce market on Chapel Street, which was demolished in the course of construction of interstate 91. Argento describes being evicted from the family's home above the store, and moving with her mother to the Annex section of New Haven. She also describes how redevelopment affected the St. Andrews Society, an Italian fraternal organization, and St. Michael's Church. Argento often gathers with other former neighborhood residents to reminisce about the old neighborhood at events like the Saint Andrews Feast and the Wooster Square Cherry Blossom Festival. \n\nInterviewer: Barca, Sarah \n\nLength (min): 65","https://preservica.library.yale.edu/explorer/explorer.html#prop:4\u0026amp;b0bcbaf4-cade-47bb-beac-db9932279858","A copy of this material is available in digital form from Manuscripts and Archives and online."]},"requiredStatement":{"label":{"en":["Attribution"]},"value":{"en":["The materials are open for research.\n\nOriginal audiovisual materials, as well as preservation and duplicating masters, may not be played. Researchers must consult use copies, or if none exist must pay for a use copy, which is retained by the repository. Researchers wishing to obtain an additional copy for their personal use should consult Copying Services information on the Manuscripts and Archives web site."]}},"provider":[{"id":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/aboutus","type":"Agent","label":{"en":["Manuscripts and Archives Yale University Library"]},"homepage":[{"id":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/","type":"Text","label":{"en":["Manuscripts and Archives Yale University Library"]},"format":"text/html"}],"logo":[{"id":"https://d9jk7wjtjpu5g.cloudfront.net/organizations/logo_images/000/000/013/original/yale-blue.png?1678220072","type":"Image"}]}],"thumbnail":[{"id":"https://d9jk7wjtjpu5g.cloudfront.net/public/images/audio-default.png","type":"Image","format":"image/png"}],"items":[{"id":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/92864","type":"Canvas","label":{"en":["Media File 1 of 2 - open-uri20200619-6634-wmyw6b.mpga"]},"duration":21.9951,"width":640,"height":40,"thumbnail":[{"id":"https://d9jk7wjtjpu5g.cloudfront.net/public/images/audio-default.png","type":"Image","format":"image/png"}],"items":[{"id":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/92864/content/1","type":"AnnotationPage","items":[{"id":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/92864/content/1/annotation/1","type":"Annotation","motivation":"painting","body":{"id":"https://aviary-p-yalemssa.s3.wasabisys.com/collection_resource_files/resource_files/000/092/864/original/open-uri20200619-6634-wmyw6b.mpga?1592609394","type":"Audio","format":"audio/mpeg","duration":21.9951,"width":640,"height":40},"target":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/92864","metadata":[]}]}],"annotations":[{"id":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/92864/transcript/19304","type":"AnnotationPage","label":{"en":["Legacy Transcript [Transcript]"]},"items":[{"id":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/92864/transcript/19304/annotation/1","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"Theresa Argento interviewed by Sarah Barca, March 9, 2004. NHOHP 022.\r\n\r\nBARCA:  Okay, so first of all, can you tell me about where you were born, where you grew up and what the neighborhood was like then? \r\nAGRENTO:  All right.  I grew up right here in Wooster Square.  In fact, just two blocks down where the highway came through our building, which we never, never dreamed that that would happen.  But I have a family of seven siblings.  We’re seven siblings.  We were all born in the same house—no hospital.  My parents had a market.  My father came from Italy when he was four years old, educated here in New Haven, went to the First Street School, which no longer exists, and he had been in business since 1910.  He had a very special market with fruit out of season and newspapers.  It was really a beautiful market.  In fact, if it was still existing today, it would be one of the oldest markets in New Haven.  It started as a little specialty store, but then as the neighborhood changed, it turned into a regular market with fruits and vegetables and groceries and so on and so forth.  But originally, if you wanted a fruit that was out of season, you went to Carrano’s market.  That was my father’s name, Nadio Carrano.\r\n\r\nWe had a beautiful childhood.  We walked to school.  We all went to Wooster Street School, which again no longer exists.  It was a beautiful neighborhood.  As a matter of fact, we are still friendly with the neighbors that we associated with when we were on Chapel Street, one of which is the Naclerio family, Foxon Park.  They own the wholesale—make their own soda.  We still remain friends and many, many of the other neighborhoods.  We were really a very warm, warm neighborhood.  We could sit outside and talk until one, two o’clock in the morning and nobody would bother you.  You could walk downtown to where the Green is and right across the Green there would be the Edward Malley Company, beautiful shops that you could go up and the theaters were all there.  The Shubert Theater, that is the only one that still exists.  All of the other theaters are all gone.  And you could walk downtown, stop and have an ice cream soda or a little snack and come home and you’d meet all the friends along the way. \r\n\nIt was just one big happy family, and we were six girls and the baby of which was the boy, my brother Frank.  My father had his daughters very, very—very protective.  So we could only walk that square block down to Franklin, Wooster, Chestnut and back home again, but we knew really everybody in the neighborhood because they all came to shop in my father’s store.  \r\n\nAs young girls, we created our own good times.  We would dance in back of the store.  They had like a little kitchen in back of the store, and we would meet.  We had a sorority, we would have our meetings there and just have a good time.  We would meet—if my father was too busy, we’d meet in my grandmother’s who was directly diagonally across the street.  Our dues would be ten cents a week.  Now, follow me.  Ten cents a week.  That meant that at the end of the year we had five dollars and twenty cents.  I would arrange for the—we’d spend a day in New York City.  The excursion I think was a dollar, or a dollar and half tops.  You went into New York City.  I would get tickets to go to one of the radio shows, and I remember vividly one of them was the Prince Machiavelli.  That was a cologne, a perfume, and they had a string quartet entertaining.  It was beautiful.  \r\n\nTelevision was just coming out then.  We went through—they were all televised and we all thought that was a wonderful, almost impossible thing to happen, but we were introduced to the television. \r\n\nBefore we went to the radio show, we stopped at the automat and we went to have our breakfast, coffee and all, and that didn’t cost a ridiculous amount.  Then after we went to the show, after the Prince Machiavelli, we went to the show and then went to a nice restaurant and had our dinner and came home.  So we spent five dollars.  We were budgeted five dollars and the other twenty cents we had, we bought a gift for my grandmother thanking her for using her home.  But try and do that today.  You couldn’t even cross the street for five dollars and twenty cents.  \r\n\n","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/92864#t=0.0,340.0"},{"id":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/92864/transcript/19304/annotation/2","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":" But the neighborhood here, too, we had Lucibello’s Pastry Shop right next door.  We had a drugstore.  We had about four drugstores in the area.  I love to shop on Arthur Avenue, where Fordham University is. [phone rings]  Does that bother you?  No, I’m not going to answer it.  Is that here?  Where Fordham is, it’s Arthur Avenue.  It reminds me of the way Wooster Street used to be years ago.  You had one or two markets that only sold chicken, the meat market and the grocery store.  We had a pasta factory and the drugstores.  We had our own bank.  It was just a unique, beautiful neighborhood.  \r\n\nWe had tenement houses in Wooster Street and while the redevelopment was going on, you would hear about, “Oh, the tenement houses on Wooster Street!” but what do we have today?  We have Bella Vista—they’re all glorified tenement houses as far as I’m concerned.  It would make me sad to hear some of the people say, “Oh, the homes were not clean.”  I beg to differ with them.  Those women would actually wash the wooden hallways and the front steps out of wood with bleach.  It was spotless, really and truly.  Forty years ago we didn’t have the facility of pickup trash.  You had to—each homeowner was responsible to clear up the trash and sometimes they got a little lax and you ran into rodents, which was expected.  But today we have the luxury of a trash pick up and we have exterminators that take care of all that.  We didn’t have that years ago.  \r\n\nBut this was a beautiful, warm neighborhood and when we heard about a highway coming through, I for one—as I said before, my parents had the market and my husband has a dry cleaning plant.  There were two stores and then we had four apartments upstairs.  Beautiful apartments.  My apartment and all the apartments, they all had marble fireplaces.  Try and replace that today.  I had parquet floors.  I had beautiful tiled kitchen and bath.  We all did.  Our stairway going to the upper apartments, the handrail was about maybe twelve inches wide with all cutwork in the front to go upstairs.  It was just a gorgeous building and it broke our heart when we had to move. \r\n\nWe left furniture up in the attic I wish we had today. There was no place to put them.  Today now they have facilities that you can store things. Where could we put them?  We had more antique things that we took as much as we could, but we couldn’t take that.  When I go by the house, my home, I think of—I reminisce of this dining room table and chairs, oak with the ball and claw leg, why didn’t we take that?  That bothers me, why we didn’t take that.  It belonged to my mother.  \r\n\n","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/92864#t=340.0,555.0"},{"id":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/92864/transcript/19304/annotation/3","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":" But when we heard of the highway, one of the tenants in my mother’s house, she worked in a factory and she said, “Oh, we heard rumors that the highway’s coming through and we all have to move and where am I going to go?”  She lived in mother’s house since the day she was married and that was sad.  It was such an exodus here.  Everybody—you know, when all of a sudden you have to move, and the people that work for the State of Connecticut, they were heartless.  I know they had a job to do, but they could have been nicer about it.  I remember coming home from the office one day and my mother was in tears.  “What’s wrong?”  “Well, the man from the state came again and we have to get out by,” they gave them a special date.  I said—my mother at that time was losing her sight.  She had glaucoma and it was sad.  You know, they had really no consideration.  They gave you a deadline to meet and it was—we looked for one year for a house because we had the situation, we couldn’t leave my mother.  I could have gone out and been on my own, but what could we do with my mother?  So we finally, after a year, we found this piece of land in the Annex section of New Haven and it was lovely then.  Now, even that neighborhood changed.  It was lovely.  We had all the meadows.  It was really beautiful and my mother was so unhappy.  So unhappy.  She thought we took her to California.  \r\n\nShe just could not accept because when she was in the market, she went to the market, the wholesale market and did all her shopping and then everybody would help her set up, because by that time my father had passed away.  He was sick for ten years.  He had passed away and everybody, my brothers-in-law, my husband, we all tried to help to put out the stand outside and get things ready for the day for her.  But in the afternoon she changed her apron and when her friends came in, it wasn’t just a shop, it was to socialize, too.  So after they did their shopping, she’d invite them in the back and they’d have an espresso and it was a happy time of the day for her.  She was able to take care of her business and at the same time meet with her friends, and she missed that.  She was very, very sad with that. \r\n\nMost of people on Wooster Street, on College Street and Hamilton Street, they had nowhere to move.  It was like they expected a disaster and “We have to move!  We have to move!  They gave us a deadline.  Where are we going to go?” and a lot of people moved to East Haven.  That’s why now they have the largest group of Italians in a town.  They have North Haven has a big group moved there, but mostly to East Haven because when one moved, then they said, “Oh, there’s a nice a house in East Haven that you could buy,” and a lot of them all immigrated there.  That’s why we tried to hold onto the traditions and customs that we were used to, because we didn’t know to go out of our little neighborhood.  We had everything here.  Even though automobiles were not as popular as they are today.  Today it’s not a luxury, it’s a necessity.  When I was growing up, it was a luxury because you didn’t need a car.  You walked downtown.  You walked to the theater.  You walked to church.  You did everything in your own little neighborhood.  See, now they’re trying to bring people to come back into the city.  You know, it’s a cycle.  You know, it’s going to work out this way.  \r\n\n","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/92864#t=555.0,810.0"},{"id":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/92864/transcript/19304/annotation/4","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":" They said that New Haven was going to be a model city.  It was not.  We still have parking lots of property that as demolished, beautiful homes.  Why didn’t they think of preserving the beauty of those homes?  There was so much—the way the homes were built, you couldn’t duplicate the way the homes were.  Today everything is put up so quickly.  You know, it’s all prefab houses and all, but why didn’t someone think of preserving instead of demolishing?  We would have had a beautiful city in New Haven.  So consequently we lost so many people that moved into the suburbs.  I would have still been on Chapel Street.  I was perfectly happy.  I went downstairs to help my husband.  I went to help my mother.  My children went to St. Michael’s School.  My church is right here. Why would I want to move?  Why would I want to move?  \r\n\n","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/92864#t=810.0,870.0"},{"id":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/92864/transcript/19304/annotation/5","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":" Now you’ve got the expense of a car.  You’ve got the expense of gasoline and your neighbors are not like the neighbors they were in Wooster Square.  I love my neighbor, I’m close to her, but I don’t go visit.  Not unless I know that she doesn’t feel well or something, but we don’t have time anymore.  We don’t have time.  Whereas before, after you go through with your supper at nighttime, you could sit outside and talk to your neighbors and the kids would play.  It was one big happy family and as I started to say before, we tried to keep up the traditions of the festival that we have now. \r\n\nSt. Andrews Society, we’re 104 years old.  We have another society on Wooster Street that’s 106 years old, and we try to keep together.  Seventeen years ago I had a brainstorm to uniform all the societies, so we are seven societies and if we put all the members together, I think we would total about a thousand people.  So when we have our feast, all these people that were literally chased out of New Haven, they love to come back.  They come to the feast because it’s like one big reunion.  They love to meet one another and talk about, “Oh, don’t you miss the neighborhood?  Don’t you miss the neighborhood?”  And it isn’t only Wooster Square.  I have friends that are in the Hill section and they feel the same way, too.  There are still parking lots in the Hill section that forty years there was nothing that was put there.  Now they realized it wasn’t a model city.  They could have done things a little differently.  They could have preserved things, but everything—there was Dick Lee, he thought that it was going to be a good thing, but I don’t think anybody in this area—may he rest in peace, and he was a good friend of mine, but a lot of things that he did is not to the liking of many, many people.  Many people. \r\n\n","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/92864#t=870.0,1005.0"},{"id":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/92864/transcript/19304/annotation/6","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":" We lost a lot of parishioners in St. Michael and St. Michael is the oldest Italian church in the state of Connecticut.  I never left my church.  I should go to St. Bernadette, but this is the mother church and they never say that I should support two churches, but I come down.  I never left the church.  Since we moved out of here forty years ago, I come down every Sunday.  I’m very active in the church.  I meet a lot of people that feel the same way that I do and that’s how we support the church because we have just a small parish here in New Haven.  \r\n\nBut it’s just a sad situation.  You know, one person has an idea that you’re going to do this and it’s going to be good, but then you realize that it’s not good.  I remember, you know, when all that was happening, they didn’t know where to move to.  Some could afford to buy a house.  Some couldn’t afford to buy a house, and even then—I mean, now they have all these condos.  They didn’t have that forty years ago.  So people really were very, very unhappy.  Very unhappy. \r\nSB:\tDid you know any people that stayed here and what their experience was like and how the community here changed? \r\nTA:\tWell, there’s very few people.  Most of the people really are all gone, the ones that really lived here.  Maybe a few that had the family home that stayed here.  Even on Wooster Street there’s not too many because they demolished all the homes and they built the Columbus Mall.  They have all those apartments there.  So all those homes are all demolished.  [phone rings]  And a lot of homes were made into businesses.  Like this used to be funeral director, but it’s now it’s something else.  Wooster Street is all businesses.  They’re all businesses, and the people that—there’s only a few on the south part of Wooster Street, on Franklin Street there’s a few homes there that their parents owned the house and they’re still there.  And they’re lovely homes.  Lovely, lovely.  Every home you went into was immaculate.  Every home because they were proud.  That was their domain.  They were very proud of it.  \r\n\nPeople love to come back, if it’s a religious ceremony.  Now we have the Cherry Blossom Festival.  You should come down.  I do an exhibit of Wooster Square.  I have pictures and articles and they just hover around the tables.  You know what I love?  I love when the young boys recognize their grandparents in the picture and they get all emotional: “That’s my grandmother!” or “my grandfather.”  But that’s really a nice—and there again, too, it’s a reunion.  It’s a reunion. \r\n\nSometimes I wish that my children had the experience of growing up in the neighborhood that we had.  Now we’re all up there in age and we still reminisce.  We reminisce.  We would stand on the corner—the next corner—until one o’clock in the morning.  Just talk, the girls, you know, and their’s was nothing to fear.  We never closed our doors.  Never closed our doors.  Even my mother, she could leave the store and nobody would go in to steal.  Try and do that today.  Try and do that today. \r\n\nBut you know, sometimes when you think something is going to be better, it doesn’t work out that way, but I suppose you don’t really know until you try it.  I suppose Dick Lee thought that it was going to be good, but I think the answer would have been preservation, more than just demolishing.  I think that one time, if I remember correctly, they had a doll of Dick Lee with the ball that demolished, you know.  I mean he did some good.  He was our mayor for many, many years, but in that sense, if you talk to people—and it wasn’t only our neighborhood.  It was the Polish neighborhood, too.  It went all the way down.  \r\n\nIt just came right smack through and you know, they could have gone through Sargent, which is at Long Wharf.  Sargent used to be at the end of Hamilton Street.  They used to call that Waterside Park.  So why didn’t they go to the left a little bit, the highway?  Why did they come smack through a neighborhood?  But they accommodated Sargent Company and then the irony, after the highway was built, they built Long Wharf and Sargent moved.  So they could have preserved all those nice homes, but they accommodated—and everything is politics.  If you notice, if you go down Franklin Street there is a factory.  If you go by the highway, you can almost touch that factory.  So why did it come so close?  Why did they preserve that?  Politics.  But yet other factories had to move.  I grant you, there were a lot of factories here, too, but they created the jobs for the people that came.  \r\n\nLike you hear them say we had a fire.  This used to be a church here.  There was a fire that started in one of the factories and the embers hit the roof of the church and it demolished the church.  This is the rectory of the church.  Our club was displaced three times, so finally when this was up for sale, we deserved it. We were on Hamilton Street.  Then we moved and we were on Franklin Street and then we had to move again.  So we were fortunate that we were able to get this building, which is central.  We have our own festival on our own property.  Years ago they’d have it on Wooster Street and now the neighbors don’t want it, the people that live there, because you know there’s a lot of—you know, even though they have the houses, whatever they call them, nobody uses them and they go in the backyards and urinate and they make a mess.  I don’t think you would like that, and I wouldn’t like it either, if you came in and did that to my home. Then the smell, too, of the cooking, it stays for days and days there.  So they don’t want it on Wooster Street, but we’re fortunate.  We have our own little private.  It’s a small feast, but we’ve been doing it since 1975 and we do it every year.  Like I said, it’s like one big reunion.  One big reunion. \r\n\nBut I wish that—I spent more time.  I think if I pat my car on the back with taking rides right in this little area, but I mean years ago it was really, it was unbelievable.  It was just a beautiful, beautiful neighborhood, but you know, everything changes.  I remember my father would say that when he first—when he bought the property on Chapel Street there were all elm trees.  It was just strictly residential and then the neighborhood changed.  People came in, a lot of the Italians came in from Italy because, as I said before, my parents come from Amalfi, which is beautiful, beautiful town, but it’s for tourists.  It’s tourism.  There’s no factories there, so when young people—the men become waiters.  If people have restaurants here in New Haven, they love to have a waiter from Amalfi because he’s been trained correctly, but there’s nothing for the young girls.  So when they reach a certain age, they leave.  Either they go to London, they come to America, Argentina for jobs because there’s no livelihood there.  If you go up north in Milan and in Rome, there’s a lot, but in Amalfi is just tourism.  It’s beautiful, but there’s nothing for young people.  They all move.  \r\n\nSo when that influx of immigrants came, they all—the Sargent Company, there were two brothers.  The wife of one brother was Italian and they were looking for help, so she sent to Italy for the workers to come work in Sargent Companies.  That was one of the reasons that a lot of immigrants came.  Then when one member of the family came or a friend came, and you know, years ago they said in America the streets were paved with gold.  There were so many opportunities. There were, but you had to work.  If you thought that you’d come and you’re going to pick money from the tree, you were in for a big surprise.  \r\n\nThat’s why there were so many Italians that came and it got to be the Italian neighborhood, but years ago the perimeter of the park, they were all wealthy businessmen.  That’s why some of those homes are gorgeous.  Thank God they didn’t demolish those homes.  They were beautiful homes. \r\nSB:\tDo you have any of your favorite stories, maybe, of the neighborhood of growing or any interesting characters that you knew in the neighborhood as a child? \r\nTA:\tWell, even they would have the—there was one cart that came around, even though my father sold ice cream in the store and cakes and candy and everything else, but I remember they would come around to make waffles.  Waffles with the powdered sugar on it, and you’d think that that was the—he would do it right on the truck, you know.  Also, there would be an iceman.  I remember that, an iceman delivering the ice and there was also a coal man.  Then it changed into electricity.  People had furnaces, but years ago everything was coal.  I remember there was a coal man.  He was black from head to toe, you know, with the [unclear] of coal.  That was a hard job to do.  \r\n\nWhen we had the feast, my parents—I told you they both came from Amalfi and my father and mother were so into it that they would decorate.  You know, they had the arches with the flags and my father would have the decorator come and decorate the front of our building because he felt he was part of the celebration.  Christmas time our store was a picture.  My father had a knack of putting together a fruit basket, it was just beautiful.  At Christmas time inside of the store and outside of the store was all decorated with laurel and just beautiful.  He’d sell Christmas trees.  \r\n\nSo I told you before, we were all girls, so we’d pick out the biggest tree and we’d say to him, “Dad, don’t you sell this tree.  That’s ours.”  We put our name on it and he was good, he’d let us.  Then we had to—he’d get somebody to bring the tree upstairs.  As I said before, we tried to do it ourselves.  We didn’t have a brother, so we did everything ourselves and I hate to tell you how many times the tree fell.  So [chuckles] we finally got wise and we nailed it to the window ledge, so that it wouldn’t fall.  But we lost more ornaments.  Every time you’d hear it, my father would say, “The tree fell again.”\r\n\nBut Christmas time was beautiful.  We had the pastry store here with all his goodies.  At the beginning of every season, like now the [unclear] of St. Joseph you see, the first batch he would bring to my mother, to my parents and he would treat all the business people on the block, Mr. Lucibello.  [phone rings]  Of course, he knew my mother because he came from Amalfi and they went to school together. So he emigrated from Brooklyn to come here and now he has his place on Grand Avenue, Lucibello’s Pastry Shop.  \r\n\nBut we would play together. We never really argued.  You know, we didn’t have gangs.  The boys were into sports.  There used to be a neighborhood house playground.  It’s still a playground now, but it is all sports.  All sports, and a lot of young men went on to have good careers in sports, either become coaches or actually play on teams.  They would have—also there there would be teachers to teach you how to embroider and knit. Then once a year they would take us to Lighthouse in the open trolleys and that was fun.  Pack a lunch and I don’t even think we paid.  If we paid, we may have paid a nickel or whatever, but they would probably have ten or eleven trolleys.  Everybody would go to Lighthouse Park, and that’s where we all went when we were kids, Lighthouse Park or Mamoguin, but we mostly went to Lighthouse because it was New Haven.  Mamoguin was East Haven.  \r\n\nDowntown, too, was a picture. Yes, it was really a beautiful—Saturday night, the activity downtown was unbelievable because they had the one theater, [unclear] Roger Shane was on—we had about five theaters in New Haven.  The ushers, all dressed up with the uniforms, you know, with the white gloves.  You don’t get that today.  I went to the Metropolitan.  I don’t remember seeing that, but we had that here in New Haven.  We had the—and the shops were beautiful.  The shops were absolutely beautiful.  Malley’s, facing the Green.  We had Desmond’s and Shartenberg’s.  Shartenberg’s, it was only on State Street and Christmas time they would have on the top floor there would be the toy center, and there was a train that went all around the top floor and they had a Santa Claus and a fishing pond.  That was fun.  That was fun, and I remember taking my two girls there, and then that closed.  \r\n\nBut a lot of nice memories and the holiday was, everybody got dressed.  Years ago everybody got dressed to go to church.  Today they go in I call them dungarees.  That dates me.  Today they’re jeans.  Dungarees, when I was growing up, was only for farmers.  For the poor kids, but now they’re designer jeans.  See the way society changes?  \r\n\nBut we had good times.  Just good times, just dancing.  I remember one time we all took the train to go see Frank Sinatra.  I was one of those crazy girls that stood in line.  Remember when the Beatles became popular and my contemporaries would say, “All those crazy kids.  Look at them screaming like that.”  I said, “I was one of those crazy kids, too. We’d stand in line to go see Frank Sinatra.”  He was so skinny, so thin, but we did it.  We did it. Of course, it was a dollar to go to New York City, but we were all—we were like brothers and sisters.  [phone rings]  Nobody had a fight.  If you did, you resolved it right away.  It was nothing.  Today there’s all these guns.  \r\n\nYou know, in a way I feel sorry for the young people today because they really—it’s such a difficult society to grow today.  It’s nothing like when we were young.  There was peace.  It was beautiful years ago.  Then when the Second World War came, most all the men—all the boys were away. All the boys were away. There was none of the boys home, and when someone lost their son, they would put in the window the Gold Star indicating that they lost their son, and everybody helped one another. Then when—after Pearl Harbor and we had the war ended, it was bedlam.  There were a lot of power in those batteries, the honking the horn.  \r\n\nBut I wish we had part of the neighborhood back again.  My generation, you know, we still try to keep it.  I don’t know what the next generation is going to be to carry on all those beautiful traditions that we’re a part of, but the neighborhood is now—there would be so much activity here.  People just walking in the streets, just unbelievable.  Unbelievable.  \r\n\nBut there again, there were so many beautiful homes and stores.  They came, they just demolished everything.  Demolished everything.  Very sad.  \r\nSB:\tSo your house and your father’s store, they were right where the highway was. \r\nTA:\tRight smack where the highway came. \r\nSB:\tSo they were demolished? \r\nTA:\tYes. \r\nSB:\tDo you remember when that happened? \r\nTA:\tOh, yes.  I watched it.  Yes, it was very hard.  I made it a point.  I wanted to go to go see it, yes.  My father had, adjacent to the back of the house there was like another room and in the wintertime he would keep all the milk there and in those days there was no homogenized, so the cream went to the top.  My second sister, my sister Yo, she was so fresh.  My first Judas Peace, but Yo, she was very feisty, and she knew my father would get mad.  When it was wintertime the cream would go to the top, with a stick she’d knock off all the—[laughs]  We as girls did things that a boy would do.  We had fun, though.  We really, really did. \r\n\nMy cousins would come in from New York to go to Lighthouse and Lighthouse was fun.  That was really our only beach.  Then they had Silver Sands, they built that up, but I’m talking about when I was a young girl.  That was the only park really that was used, was Lighthouse Park.  We didn’t have hotdogs.  You brought your own.  You brought your cooked food.  You know, you just picked a spot and they’d have the pavilion and the beach was beautiful.  It still is beautiful now.\r\n\nBut if you walked, there would be so much activity in this neighborhood.  Walk down Wooster Street, the women would go out and do their shopping for the day, like they do in Italy.  Now, today you go to the market once a week and you buy your meat, you stick it in the freezer, but you bought what you needed for the day, like they do in Amalfi.  They shop they eat everything fresh, and that’s what it was.  A vegetable market and the chicken market and the shoe store.  We had the bank.  We had everything in this neighborhood.  Everything in this neighborhood.  You didn’t need a car.  If you had a car, it was a luxury.  \r\n\nMy father drove, but my father never closed the store.  Even on a holiday. We’d get so mad at him because we lived upstairs and they’d ring the doorbell.  Then as we got older, we were angry at him.  “Dad, we never have a holiday. We’re always bothered.”  Even after we convinced him to close the store, they’d ring the doorbell and he’d say, “Got to take care of the customer,” and he’d come down and open up, whatever they needed.  \r\n\nWe had a lot of factories.  Lot of lot of factories, but a lot of the business people made their livelihood during lunchtime.  There were a lot of little luncheonettes, although a lot of people brought their lunch.  Maybe they’d have a cup of soup and a sandwich.  But we had a hardware store.  We had everything.  You didn’t need to—like now you need something, you need some nails, you have to get in the car and go to Lowe’s or one of the—but here, you went out, you did all the shopping.  Did your banking.  You went to church.  You did the whole thing.  \r\n\nAnd Sunday was a day of you went to church and it was a day for family.  Today they go shopping.  Years ago they had a Blue Law that the stores have to keep closed and it was a family day. So you stayed with your family.  But there again, people work.  It was unheard of to work on a Sunday.  You did not work on Sunday.  That was a no-no, but everything changes.  You pick up the paper and what other ruling is going to come out. \r\n\nBut this was really a special neighborhood like, you know, the hill section.  My girlfriend, Terry, she always talks of how beautiful their neighborhood was, too.  Sunday morning, after my father got sick, they would sell newspapers.  So we would all get up early and help my mother put out the newspapers.  Go to church and then we’d take a ride to the Hill Section and buy the bagels and have breakfast and then put the papers together and then my mother would open up the store, but she was open for a half a day.  We had her just for half a day and the rest of the day was for family.  \r\n\nBut my father’s store, at—the mailman.  Oh, I love his ponytail.  My father’s store was really—when we were kids, he was the first one to have a radio with the big horn and they’d all go in.  I remember he had this big potbelly stove in back of the store and when there was a fight, a boxing match, he’d have all the neighbors go in and listen to the radio.  They didn’t even have radios then, because he was already here.  He was established at a time that general influx of immigrants came.  So he was a good guy, my father, and my mother was, too.  \r\n\nMy mother and father—I would tease them.  They had a mini-employment agency because they were friendly with the—I told you, there were factories across the street and one of them had an Ideal Shirt shop.  His name was Sal Dibellieto and he came from Amalfi, too, and the young girls would come in to mother’s and say, “Mrs. Carrano,” they called my mother Antoinetta.  “Antoinetta, my daughter she needs a job,” or “My niece just came,” and my mother said, “Well, let me see,” and so when Sal would come in—she was a businesswoman, my mother.  She was shrewd.  She’d say to him, “Sal, this young girl came,” and he’d get angry at her and say, “Antoinetta, you’re always looking for jobs for these people. Where am I going to get a job?”  Then she’d come and she’d stay a little bit and she’d say, “Tomorrow I’m making escarole and beans.  Come for lunch.”  So the girl got the job.  [chuckles]\r\n\nAnd my father with the Sargent boys, because people stop in and get the newspaper and talk and buy the cigars, and my father got very friendly and he would do the same thing, too, but he didn’t bribe them.  He would give them cigars, and I used to tease them.  As I grew older, I realized what they were doing, but they did get jobs for many young boys.  See, that’s the way it was.  It was, “If I could help you, I’m going to do it,” but today it’s a little different.  \r\n\nI don’t know if people are afraid to get involved, but I have often mentioned it to, even my grandchildren, I wish that you could have only part—the children today have better opportunities than we had.  When I graduated high—because then my father invested in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, when nobody even knew about Florida. We’re going back sixty years ago.  Then the Depression came. Stock market crashed, he lost all his money.  So he—why am I saying this?  I want to say it for a reason.  I lost my train of thought.  Why am I saying this?  It will come back to me. \r\n\nBut anyway, he would go to Florida and my mother never wanted to go.  He would take the train, and when he’d come back, my father would bring us back the mirror with all the shells on it and the comb, you know.  But then he got sick and my mother never worked a day in her life when he lost all that money.  He lost a lot of property, my father, and he went to work.  Never worked for anybody, and he went to work in a fruit market and my mother put on an apron and she went down and they brought themselves up again. But that’s sad.  People really lost a lot of money and that was a very, very trying—oh, I know why I was saying it. \r\n\nThe kids, the children today have opportunities.  My sister’s left to help my mother in the business because my father went off to work.  They left school, but I was determined.  I wanted to continue, so I only went through high school, but in order for me to go, when I was in my junior year I worked in the office of Sal’s shop doing payroll.   In my senior year I was picked as a school clerk and they paid you a salary, and that’s how I graduated high school, but I was determined to do it.  I had received a two-year business scholarship at Larson’s which today is Quinnipiac.  I couldn’t take it because my mother needed the help.  So that’s why I say the opportunities today are—and years ago it was only the boys that had the education, not the girls because the parents felt that the girls would be housewives, but the boys would be bread winners and they needed the education.  But today it’s different, and I go along with today because the young girls have to be prepared.  You never know what your future’s going to bring you.  You have to be prepared. \r\nSB:\tYou mentioned before that it took you a year to find somewhere else to live, and that you heard from neighbors about the highway. \r\nTA:\tThat’s right. \r\nSB:\tSo how exactly did they tell you to get out?  Did you get an eviction letter?  \r\nTA:\tYes, they were brutal.  The state people were very, very—they had no compassion.  Maybe they had a deadline, but I know that our property stayed for a couple of years before it was really demolished, they demolished the area.  But they were just, even they would harp on, “You have to get out!  You have to get out!  I’m giving you this.  I’m going to give you an extension, but you have to get out.”  You know, it was just—people were really—I felt sorry for the older people.  I mean you weren’t prepared.  They were prepared to just pay rent and stay there until they died and I suppose those people that weren’t prepared, they had to find a rent and there was no rents around.  No rents around.  \r\n\nSo when property then started to build up, property around here got very expensive.  Then it went down.  Now it’s up again.  It’s going to go down again.  That’s the way it is.  But it was sad to think of everybody, “I don’t know where I’m going to go.  I looked at this house,” and for one year we went to different homes.  I remember one, we went to look at a home in Fair Haven, which we didn’t like, anyway.  We wanted to stay in New Haven.  We wanted to stay in this end, and the smell in that home was unbelievable.  My sister was pregnant with her second son.  She got deathly sick.  So I was so upset with the realtor, I said, “I’m going to take you to my apartment upstairs.  You find me a house that’s similar to what we have,” and we still couldn’t.  That’s why we built the house.  We built it, we put a mother’s apartment so that my mother was on her own, but yet she was with me.  We had our meals together, but she was able to entertain, and she had three little rooms which was attached to the house.  A lot of people did that, they built a mother’s apartment because some of the parents were elderly and they couldn’t be on their own.  \r\n\nBut it was complete chaos over here.  Like some person mentioned to me, “Well, don’t you think that they bettered themselves?”  Grant you, they did better themselves, but at the same token they weren’t prepared at the time that they came in and said, “Get out.”  A lot of people weren’t prepared.  They were all factory workers raising families.  I mean why didn’t the government say, “Look, we’re going to give you this X number of dollars.  You go buy yourself a home.”  Why didn’t they help us in that respect?  They didn’t do that, and then what the state gave you was a pittance.  A pittance.  My aunt owned a home.  She had two homes on Wooster Street.  One was a comparatively new house.  It was an apartment, beautiful big, big home with four apartments, two on one side, two upstairs.  I took care of her business for her because she was a widow at the time, too.  We turned it to a lawyer, nothing.  They gave you was eminent domain and that was it, you had no choice.  They gave whatever they thought your property was worth.  Nothing extra that “We’re going to pay you. We’re going to give you a few more dollars for the aggravation and all the stress that we’re putting you through.”  No.  No, they didn’t do that.  Everybody complained, “Gee, how much can I put—“ they still had mortgages on the homes that they built that they had here.  It was a problem.  It was a problem. \r\n\nI still say it’s one thing when you’re ready to go, but when someone comes in and says, “Lady, you have to leave and I’m giving you a year’s time or six months’ time.  You have to leave.”  That isn’t’ fair.  Then you take a whole area.  It isn’t that they took a square, a block or something, a few homes, but these were countless homes here.  They were all homes.  Few factories.  Some of them just went out of business.  Then they did an industrial park on Hamilton Street and it still was—one now is a church, you know.  They plan one way and it doesn’t work out.  \r\n\nBut this neighborhood was one of the nicest in the whole city of New Haven.  The whole city.  That’s why I refer to Wooster Square, we keep it—and many of us don’t live here, but we keep it up. We try to keep up the way it was originally, you know, with the festivals and all the holidays and different things that we celebrated because we want our children to remember these.  It’s part of their culture, part of their heritage.  Yes.  \r\nSB:\tIs there anything else you want to add? \r\nTA:\tI don’t know.  I think if my brother could add anything.  He probably would.  I know he’s—we talk about Dick Lee all the time.  Poor man, I mention him so many times, but he thought he was doing well.  He thought it was a good thing at the time, but it was not.  It was not.  I would have been perfectly happy living in my beautiful apartment.  We had five rooms.  Now I have nine rooms.  I wish I had four again or three because I’m a widow.  What do I do?  If I sell the house, where am I going to go?  Where am I going?  The taxes are high.  Now the taxes are going up again.  Whereas, if I had four little rooms, it would be beautiful, you know.  Maybe I’d still have my husband’s store, I don’t know.  \r\n\nBut it was terrible.  It was a terrible thing.  I always have problems with this, putting my earrings in.  But what else can I add here?  \t\r\n\nSundays you could walk—Sunday morning there’s an Italian station, Hands Beyond the Sea.  I remember that.  Isn’t that crazy, some things that stay with you.  I find as I’m getting older, I remember so many things when I was a young girl are so vivid.  Like that incident about the milk.  I’ll tell you another thing that she did.  She was fresh.  If you walked down the street, everybody had the same Italian station on.  You didn’t miss a word to the song and everybody, especially in the summer time, everybody had their windows open and the smell of the sauce, tomato sauce.  Everybody cooked, and the frying of the meatballs and the cutlets or whatever, the aroma was unbelievable.  Italian songs.\r\n\nAnother thing she did.  My father had—he loved pets.  He had this huge aquarium and he had a canary and he had a cat because, you know, especially with a market you had mice and the cat was good.  So my father would clean the cage.  I was younger than she was.  I’m three years younger than she is.  My father, he took the bottom of the cage and he said to her, “Don’t lift the cage,” because he took the bottoms and would clean it outside and the canary was still in the cage, as if to say, “Forget it, father.”  As my father went out, she lifted it up.  The canary flew and the cat got the canary.  [laughing]  Sometimes we get together, we laugh.  She was fresh.  She was fresh.  \r\n\nOur backyards faced Wooster Street, so my father had—years ago the oranges came wrapped in orange paper, but not all thrown together like today.  They took pride, everything they did.  I don’t know, everything was in rows.  The cherries, they’re not like today that’s all thrown.  The patience they had—every cherry was in a row, so my father would, the cherries, he would put them on display because he had an outdoor stand and he was, “Now, if you want to touch it, just take it in one corner.”  We’d take all the top row.  He’d get so made at us.  “How am I going to sell it?  You took all the beauty of the cherries.”  But anyway, it got to be Fourth of July and I told you oranges came in these wooden crates.  The oranges were wrapped in orange, the lemons in yellow, pears in green paper, like tissue paper.  So my father would have all that.  Fourth of July he would put the boxes, because then the people from the market would come and buy, the farmers would buy, they’d give you five cents or whatever for the boxes.  They’d use them again.  Fourth of July they’d hop the fence and take all the boxes.  My father didn’t care anyway, but all the boxes, anything we had in the back yard they would take it.  Throw it over the fence and use it for the bon fire.  She’d run after them with a broom.  She was so fresh!  \r\n\nNow, she talks about her granddaughter, things she does.  Her granddaughter said to her—she goes to daycare and my granddaughter said to her—her name is Nicole.  She said, “Grandma, I got so scared yesterday.”  She said, “One of the boys in the class pulled the fire alarm and the fire department, all the fire engines and the police came.  I got so scared.”  So her grandmother said, “Don’t you ever think of doing that.”  “Oh, no,” she said.  I said, “Yo, I wouldn’t put it past Nicole to do it this time because she’s a chip off the old block.”  [laughs]  I said, “She’s feisty like you are.”  She was so fresh!\r\n\nAnd my first sister, Louise, she was peace, but Yolandra was, she was fresh.  She’s still fresh.  Still fresh.  \r\n\nBut this was a beautiful neighborhood.  I keep looking outside.  We had so many grocery stores here.  One sold only vegetables, another sold canned goods.  We had—I liked to go Arthur Avenue just to reminisce.  It reminds me of all the activity, everybody has the food outside that they sell.  The bakeries, unbelievable how many bakeries we had here.  My husband always told a story, there used to be Madola Bakery and they wanted him to sponsor a basketball team.  So they wanted him for the shirts, so they went up to him.  My husband passed away last year.  He was eighty-two years old, so we’re going back a long time.  And they said, “Mr. Madola, would you sponsor the team for us?”  “All right, what do I have to do?”  “Tee shirts.”  “What do I get out of it?”  “Well, your name will be on the front, Madola Bakery,” and then he said, “Okay, but I want the back, that’s got to be [unclear] the bread and the whole thing on the back there.”  [laughs]\r\n\nRestaurants, we had a lot of restaurants.  The only one that was still there was Consiglio’s, but that was known as the Big Apple Restaurant.  Like Tony and Lucille’s came after, but Pepe’s was always there.  The same thing with Consiglio.  Consiglio is a nephew of Pepe’s, so he learned the trade.  \r\n\nThere was all old homes there.  When they had the feast, it went from Olive Street all the way to East Street, the whole length that was the feast.  Nice memories.  Nice memories. \r\n\nAnd then there was that little bit of envy between the societies.  You could do—you did it, I’m going to do it better.  Ours is going to be nicer.  You know how that is.  That little bit of rivalry that kept the things going.  Years ago, when they first came from Italy, that’s why the clubs were formed.  When they came from Italy they needed, they were all mutual aide societies when they were formed and they’d help the immigrant find a job, find an apartment.  Years ago when they came from Italy, one member of the family came, got a job, earned some money and then they would bring the rest of the family.  That’s the way they would do things, and they all helped one another.  They really helped and the clubs, they found a job and God forbid, if they had sickness, they would help.  If somebody died, they would help.  So like I said, it was a mutual aid society.  There was just like one big family.  \r\n\nI didn’t say they didn’t argue [phone rings].  That’s human nature, but they were right there to help one another.  If a girl had a baby, the chicken soup went in and they helped.  They thought nothing of going in and do the wash for you.  That’s the way they were.  They just loved being together, and even the boys growing up, like my husband’s age, they were always so respectful to one another.  I don’t know, it was just a different—and that highway just killed everything. \r\n\nI really don’t know what it would have been like today if the highway hadn’t come through, but I like to think that even if they had passed on, for those that wanted to go to suburbs, they would move. But those that wanted to stay in the city, they would stay in the city.  I started to say at the beginning, now they’re building apartments in New Haven.  They want to bring people to live in New Haven, which is what we did years ago.  I mean, it doesn’t make sense.  Doesn’t make sense.  Here you start that way, then, “No, it’s not good.”  Now they want to bring everybody back again.  Bring everybody back again.  Then there wouldn’t be so many cars on the highway.  [phone rings]  Years ago you didn’t need a car.  I said that before.  You didn’t need it.  Not unless you were going to take a ride on a Sunday, you really didn’t need anything.  Like Arthur Avenue, you haven’t been there?  Well, it’s like in Boston they have the Italian section is Federal Hill?  \r\nSB:\tThe North End? \r\nTA:\tThe North End, yes.  Federal Hill is in Providence.  Providence.  That’s the way it was here.  I don’t think they changed that over there.  It’s still the same.  But I mean it’s just sad.  When we have the feast, I wish you could see the people.  If you just let them talk all night, they’d be very happy reminiscing.  Now some of them are great grandparents, grandparents.  “Oh, my granddaughter just got married.”  It’s like one big family.  One big family. \r\nSB:\tWell, thank you very much. \r\n\tTA:\tOh, you’re quite welcome. \r\nEnd of Interview","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/92864#t=1005.0,21.9951"}]}]},{"id":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/238520","type":"Canvas","label":{"en":["Media File 2 of 2 - open-uri20240326-2906522-vny9be.mpga"]},"duration":13.92327,"width":640,"height":40,"thumbnail":[{"id":"https://d9jk7wjtjpu5g.cloudfront.net/public/images/audio-default.png","type":"Image","format":"image/png"}],"items":[{"id":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/238520/content/1","type":"AnnotationPage","items":[{"id":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/238520/content/2/annotation/1","type":"Annotation","motivation":"painting","body":{"id":"https://aviary-p-yalemssa.s3.wasabisys.com/collection_resource_files/resource_files/000/238/520/original/open-uri20240326-2906522-vny9be.mpga?1711449287","type":"Audio","format":"audio/mpeg","duration":13.92327,"width":640,"height":40},"target":"https://yalemssa.aviaryplatform.com/collections/988/collection_resources/26086/file/238520","metadata":[]}]}],"annotations":[]}]}