Cambridge's Neighborhoods: East Cambridge Struggles To Keep Personal Touch

Mary Ann D'Onofrio, a third generation resident of East Cambridge, no longer knows all her neighbors.

D'Onofrio says she remembers a time when everyone in the neighborhood did know each other, when they all shopped at the same few stores, went to neighborhood dances on weekends and gossiped on porch stoops.

Today D'Onofrio looks around her and sees high rise apartment buildings, sees new residents replacing old left and right.

She says she misses the comfort and security of the East Cambridge she remembers from her childhood.

But 13-year East Cambridge flower shop owner Beatrice Moura, who was born in Portugal, says she embraces the influx of new faces.

"I'm lucky," she says. "I have the whole world around me. Here, I can serve my students, my professionals, my yuppies, my Italians, my Portuguese, my Spanish. It's all beautiful."

These two voices encapsulate the conflict of East Cambridge at the start of the new millennium, as residents attempt to preserve the area's history while continuing to grow and develop--and attempt to strike a balance between the old and the new.

The Way It Was

East Cambridge is historically an isolated community.

The area was settled in the middle of the 19th century as a planned village an on island, set apart from the rest of Cambridge by undeveloped land, says Charles M. Sullivan, executive director of the Cambridge Historical Commission.

By the time roads were constructed joining East Cambridge to the rest of the city, the area had already distinguished itself from the neighboring regions of Cambridge.

D'Onofrio says while growing up she enjoyed the neighborhood's insular nature.

"It was a real neighborhood," she says. "People all knew one another. If you had a cold, your neighbors would come to check on you. You could leave your door unlocked without worrying."

Gary Mitchell's restaurant, the S & S Deli, is a testament to the pride longtime residents and store-owners still take in the community. Mitchell's family has owned the deli for 80 years and it is the only establishment on Cambridge Street that has not changed its name or ownership since D'Onofrio was a child.

The S&S is a veritable shrine to the area's history. On the walls are a collage of black and white photographs of Cambridge Street and the deli from 50 years ago. A mural in the back of the restaurant includes a life-size painting of Mitchell's great-grandmother.

"This was a wonderful place to live and to grow up," Mitchell says.

He compares the Cambridge Street of today to the cleaner, neater Cambridge Street in his photographs.

"Along this street, we had a baker, a butcher, a drugstore on every corner," he says.

D'Onofrio too says she remembers the pleasure of shopping along Cambridge Street.

"You'd go out to shop," D'Onofrio says, "And you'd go to one place for your dairy, your butter and eggs, another for your bread, another for your meat, and you'd always see your friends along the way."

At his restaurant, Mitchell attempts to preserve the convenience and comfort of the way the area used to be.

"There are old people who have been coming here for a million years," he says. "Unlike McDonald's, it's kind of your place, your little slice of history, of memorabilia, and it's real. People feel that they can come in here and see their friends, see the same waitresses."

"When people come here with their children and their grandchildren," he says, "I think it's almost like they're coming back to a place they remember--like coming home."

Subtle Tensions

On the door of the Sew-Low Discount Fabric store hangs a sign that reads, "Part-time applications: Must speak English and Portuguese."

East Cambridge's longtime residents are not just of European descent, as D'Onofrio and Mitchell are.

In fact, much of the area's unique culture comes from its large Portuguese population, centered around the Cambridge Street enclave of Portuguese-owned shops and restaurants.

This population sprung up in the 1880's, when many Portuguese came to East Cambridge to work in a neighborhood factory weaving fishing nets, according to Sullivan.

Instead of a simple mixing of cultures, residents acknowledge that the neighborhood's Portuguese and non-Portuguese populations tend to self-segregate, in large part because some of the older Portuguese residents have never learned to speak English.

Rosa Tetrillo, who lives in East Cambridge and has worked at Sew-Low for almost 11 years since she came from Cape Verde, says the store's request for Portuguese speaking help is simply pragmatic.

"When someone who only speaks English is working here," she says, "the Portuguese won't buy. The times we have English-speaking help are the times we have no business."

Tetrillo says she thinks discomfort is at the root of this problem.

"[The Portuguese-speaking customers] are just afraid to ask for what they want in English," she says. "They feel a little embarrassed to talk."

But there are some who are angered by the language barrier, says East Cambridge resident Shannon Larkin.

"It's unfortunate, but I have seen some conflict. The Portuguese tend to stick together, to gravitate into a small community and choose not to mix," Larkin says.

A few English-speaking residents became upset when a recently opened medical clinic trained its employees to answer the phones in Portuguese rather than English, Larkin says.

"It seemed like a small issue to me," she says, "but it does show some tension."

Roselia Jaquerano, who came to the U.S. from El Salvador 15 years ago and owns a boutique in East Cambridge, says that she has not found the tension to be quite so subtle.

"When I opened my store here, people told me I was so lucky because the Portuguese never give opportunities [to other nationalities] on Cambridge Street," she says.

And while her store has been fairly successful, Jaquerano says her daughter's attempt to open a bakery down the street was thwarted because she is from El Salvador.

"So many people complained for no reason," Jaquerano says. She says she knew the family who initiated the complaints about her daughter's bakery and when she sees them on the street they no longer greet her.

"I want to say, 'I don't understand you,' " Jaquerano says, "Why do you complain? Maybe is it because I'm Spanish, or because my daughter is Spanish?"

But D'Onofrio says that this tension is a symptom of the larger problem: People simply do not know each other any more.

Pulling Together

"Our neighborhood has always been a mix, and we've gotten along well," D'Onofrio says. "But now, we have gangs and gang-related graffiti, because the young ones don't know the seniors, members of one [nationality] don't know the other."

"The seniors don't know the kids on the street corner and they're afraid," she adds. "That gap builds fear."

D'Onofrio says she and other members of the East Cambridge Planning Committee are trying to get people to know each other again by planning dances and other neighborhood activities. Otherwise, she fears the human connection that was once so strong in East Cambridge will be lost.

"We will fight together to keep the neighborhood a neighborhood," D'Onofrio says.

The City Council recently approved another effort to preserve what is left of the community's heritage.

The Larkin Petition, initiated by Shannon Larkin herself, placed an 18-month moratorium on development in East Cambridge.

"The neighbors simply felt that buildings were developing out of control," Larkin explains. "With all the buildings going up, soon we're not going to be able to see the sun in our backyards anymore."

Besides, D'Onofrio says, the proliferation of high-rise apartment buildings and hotels discourages the type of community she wants to create.

"How could you know your neighbors in a building 32 stories high?" she asks. "It's not a home. It's a concrete jungle."

There is so much in the community that is worth preserving, D'Onofrio says.

"It's unique," she says. "It's clean and livable. It's still a good neighborhood."

Jaquerano says despite the problems her daughter has faced, she still smiles every morning when she comes down Cambridge Street to her boutique.

"I am so happy here," she says, "Someone once told me never to work for poor people, but for me, it's good to open a store for everybody. And that is what this store and this neighborhood are for--for everybody."