Connecticut Shoemaker Continues for Decades in Rare Trade

Connecticut Shoemaker Continues for Decades in Rare Trade

The Wilton Shoe­mak­er on 265 Dan­bury Road. Pho­to / Dar­d­en Livesay

Chris Kydes leads a sim­ple life — he wakes up at 4 or 5 a.m., watch­es the morn­ing news and makes his way over to a small road­side workshop.

Inside his tight­ly-spaced store, the unmis­tak­able scent of leather all but oozes from dozens of shoes, whose dif­fer­ent shades of black and brown com­pli­ment one anoth­er on wood shelves.

Being a shoe­mak­er was not always what Kydes had in mind; in fact, it took years — and two dif­fer­ent careers — for him to final­ly end up in the trade.

But now, after 46 years in busi­ness, the 78-year-old son of Greek immi­grants still occu­pies his usu­al place behind the counter of his shop in Wilton, Con­necti­cut, work­ing dili­gent­ly to fix the next pair of shoes that cus­tomers bring through the door.

Being on time,” Kydes told The Pap­pas Post. “That’s the hard­est part [of the job].”

He said that, on an aver­age day, near­ly 30 peo­ple stop by his shop — some­times to drop off their shoes, but oth­er times just for a chat.

[We dis­cuss] every­thing… from the weath­er to pol­i­tics,” he said, adding that he dropped pol­i­tics in recent years. “We talk a lot of women’s things. Many more women than men [come in].”

Chris Kydes works on a pair of san­dals at his shop in Wilton, Con­necti­cut. Pho­to / Dar­d­en Livesay

His orig­i­nal fam­i­ly name being Kyreaky­des, the shoe­mak­er’s sto­ry began in Great Bar­ring­ton, Mass­a­chu­setts, the town where his par­ents Moses and Parisa immi­grat­ed from Greece in the ear­ly 1900’s.

Both par­ents orig­i­nal­ly hailed from dif­fer­ent parts of Asia Minor, but their fam­i­lies were dis­placed from their homes by Turk­ish author­i­ties and forced to flee to the north­ern Greek vil­lage of Spilia in 1923.

In fact, Kydes said his father had left even before the exchange, trav­el­ing to the Unit­ed States and serv­ing in the Army dur­ing World War I, where he sur­vived the per­ilous Bat­tles of the Meuse-Argonne in north­ern France.

After fin­ish­ing his ser­vice, the war vet­er­an began to take reg­u­lar trips to Greece, even­tu­al­ly meet­ing his future wife dur­ing a vis­it at their fam­i­lies’ home village.

Fast for­ward a few years and the cou­ple had three chil­dren — and since they still lived coun­tries apart — the Greek expat would reg­u­lar­ly send mon­ey to his fam­i­ly overseas.

How­ev­er, as Europe was inch­ing clos­er to the out­break of World War II, in 1937 Kydes’ fam­i­ly decid­ed to escape to the U.S.

The Amer­i­can gov­ern­ment sent my father a notice say­ing for him to bring [the fam­i­ly] from Greece for their safe­ty,” Kydes said. “My moth­er and two sis­ters came togeth­er on a boat.”

The shoe­mak­er said his old­er broth­er Andy lat­er escaped through Alba­nia, even­tu­al­ly mak­ing it to Italy from where he also trav­eled by boat to the U.S. to reunite with his family.

In fact, the old­est son fol­lowed his father’s foot­steps by also join­ing the mil­i­tary, serv­ing in the Navy dur­ing WWII and sur­viv­ing the dead­ly 1944 D‑Day inva­sion of Nor­mandy — the largest seaborne inva­sion in history.

Mean­while, Chris was still an infant, but by the age of 13 he and his fam­i­ly had relo­cat­ed again — this time to Nor­walk, Connecticut.

My par­ents want­ed to be with rel­a­tives who had also migrat­ed here,” he said. “There are hun­dreds of us around here.”

Although he had not seen it com­ing at the time, Kydes explained that an unex­pect­ed turn of events would force him to grow up fast.

My father died young,” he said. “I was on my own very young, mar­ried at 18. I’m basi­cal­ly self-taught, for bet­ter or for worse.”

The inside of Kydes’ small shoe repair store — the fourth that he’s owned dur­ing his 46 years in busi­ness. Pho­to / Dar­d­en Livesay

After attend­ing com­mu­ni­ty col­lege in Nor­walk, Kydes worked for years in the elec­tron­ics indus­try and lat­er as a fire­fight­er — all the while rais­ing five chil­dren with his first wife.

The 78-year-old said he even­tu­al­ly end­ed up get­ting into shoe­mak­ing when a sales­man called him and told him about a shop in the near­by town of Wilton.

Once I walked in the door and smelled the leather, it brought back mem­o­ries,” he said, refer­ring to child­hood days spent in his father’s shoe work­shop in Massachusetts.

He said that now he enjoys the “no boss­es” aspect of his job, which entails chal­leng­ing every­day tasks such as shoe skiv­ing — the time-con­sum­ing process of thin­ning leather edges with a knife so that they come togeth­er as smooth­ly as possible.

When asked if he ever thinks of retir­ing after 46 years, he sim­ply replied “occa­sion­al­ly,” explain­ing that what keeps him sane are the cus­tomers, many of whom have giv­en him hun­dreds of cour­tesy gifts such as cook­ies, choco­lates and hol­i­day wines over the years.

Kydes also cred­it­ed his Greek her­itage, cit­ing his moth­er as a key exam­ple of hard work­ing val­ues that inspired him from a young age.

My moth­er would stay at home and work relent­less­ly to main­tain large veg­etable gar­dens,” he said. “She did more than I could imag­ine any mod­ern per­son could do. She grew just about everything.”

Now, he con­tin­ues to pass on tra­di­tion in his shop, where his youngest son Bill, 27, has been work­ing along­side him since teenage years. His 15-year-old grand­son Noah also comes on week­ends to learn tricks of the shoe­mak­ing trade.

It cer­tain­ly saves the mate­r­i­al,” Kydes said. “A good pair of shoes that’s com­fort­able and that’s already bro­ken in is a good thing to have over­all. It’s good for your feet.”


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