Sacco would never have set foot inside a church. Like his friend a member of the loose-knit Galleani group of New England anarchists, he was rigidly class-conscious. Yet in his private life he was much more the petty-bourgeois than Vanzetti. Domesticity, which meant little to Vanzetti, touched Sacco more deeply than anything else. He lived with his wife Rosina and his seven-year-old son Dante in a five-room bungalow rented from Michael Kelley, the owner of the Three-K Shoe Company, where he worked. His wife, who was expecting another child, was a delicately featured auburn-haired woman of the northern Italian type. As is often the case with Latin women, she left politics to the men and held to her inherited Catholic faith. Sacco, as a skilled piece worker, often earned sixty or seventy dollars a week. A short, muscular man, he read little except the daily paper and repetitious anarchist tracts, preferring to spend his free time in his garden. Often he would be there at sunrise of a summer morning before going off to the factory, and after hours he would be working among his vegetables until dark. Sometimes he gave Michael Kelley beans and corn and tomatoes to distribute to poor families in the vicinity. Kelley thought well of Sacco. During the cold months he gave him the small extra job of tending the factory furnace. When Sacco stoked the fire in the evening he always checked the premises. Mornings he always made sure that the place was warm by the time the workers arrived. Whenever he went to the factory after hours he carried his 32-caliber Colt with him. Kelley warned him several times to get a permit from the chief of police if he wanted to carry a pistol. Sacco had come to the United States in 1908, the same year as Vanzetti. In the dozen years since their arrival they had both kept close to the immigrant community. They spoke scarcely more than a pidgin English. “Nameless, in the crowd of nameless ones,” Vanzetti described himself in his twenty-page autobiography, “The Story of a Proletarian Life,” that he wrote in the Charlestown prison. He was born in June 1888 into a prosperous family of Villafalletto, Piedmont, a village on the Magra River. Life in northwest Italy had the harshness of most peasant life, but the landscape itself could have served to illustrate the _Georgics_. Villafalletto was a rich agricultural community raising corn, wheat, beets, silkworms, and three crops of hay yearly. In the surrounding Alpine hills were apples, pears, cherries, grapes, plums, figs, and peaches. Vanzetti’s earliest memories were of his father planting peaches, of blue flowers in the garden of his house, and of his mother giving him honey every morning from a beehive.