THE VILLAGE SHOE MAKER
from the series Almonds and Sunday Dresses
by Margaret Sullivan and Nelcia Marshall- Robinson
MR ADAMS was old, slow of steps and walked with a limp. He was almost always seated behind his Anvil and the Awl, shoe-makers’ tools. He was the village Shoemaker, doing a necessary task for children and parents who could not afford to buy shoes on a regular basis.
Mr Adams was called upon to ‘stretch’ a shoe that was too tight, stitch a side that ‘cut away’, build up a heel, and most of all put on a ‘half sole’. This he did cheerfully and well, collecting from a 25 cents to $2.00 depending on who you were – a well loved village child, a close friend’s son, or from a very poor family, or one that was ‘well to do’.
I was always fascinated, because Mr Adams himself never wore shoes, like those he was repairing, and I remembered my Father’s proverb that “The Shoe Maker has no shoes, and the Tailor no clothes”.
I always got good service and a good price. Perhaps Mr Adams enjoyed having me sit and watch him work his every tool. He would ask me what I learnt in school, and I always felt he was learning too, as I faithfully recounted what I had done that particular day. However, I dared not ask him why he had none of the ‘store’ shoes.
When I was grown, I would go and visit Mr Adams, and was quite sad when he died. I transferred my business to Mr Williams in Kingstown. Then I discovered a young village shoe maker. Delighted, I took my slippers to him to mend, and was quite shocked when he told me I could afford to buy a new one. I asked him how would he get business if I did.
Village shoemakers are scarce, as modern manufacture has led to a variety of foot wear on the market, and the development of a ‘throw away’ mentality.
Mr Adams was a great craftsman in his time, an example of a successful small business. However, he had no son or daughter following in his footsteps.