Amato has owned a shoe-repair business on Lincoln Avenue between Curtner Avenue and Lincoln Court in a Shaker-shingled trading post building for 40 years.

"The Italians used to teach their kids a trade to fall back on, and here I am," the 61-year-old says matter-of-factly.

When Alphonse died in 1964, Amato took over supporting the family—his mother, brother and two sisters—at age 21. His voluntary military service was permanently deferred because of his economic responsibilities, but he did dream of becoming a fireman, he says.

"Because I was so short, I didn't know the word 'discrimination,'" says Amato, who stands a spry 5 feet 4 inches in his shoes.

Yet he has no regrets, and he doesn't wear his past dreams like a chip on his shoulder. Instead he goes about his work, whistling and cutting leather soles.

But even with his loyal customers and lifelong friends constantly coming by, Amato is closing his business and moving to Oregon as soon as he can sell his residential property.

"I'm going to miss a lot of people," he says. "But what's important is being near my kids."

Amato grew up on Lincoln Court, directly behind his shop.

Customer and friend Frank Scorpiniti says Amato's semiretirement is long overdue, but wishes he could convince him to stay.

"There are no more master shoe repairmen," Scorpiniti says. "Pat learned it from his father. It's an art. If I'm going to spend $200 to $300 on shoes, I want someone who knows what they're doing."

He adds that he doesn't know where to take his shoes after Amato leaves. "Maybe I'll ship them to him," he says.

Long-distance work has been done before, Amato says. He raised the heel of a visiting Japanese woman's shoe, and she was so grateful that she sent him 10 pairs of shoes to repair from Tokyo and a letter that had him searching for a translator.

Another time he knew he was in the right trade was when as a potential juror in a murder trial, Santa Clara County Superior Court Judge Robert Foley sent him back to work before Amato could make an excuse.

At the jury summons, Amato didn't remember the judge as a past customer but thought his name sounded familiar. When he approached the podium, he saw that Foley was laughing. Amato still didn't recognize the judge as he said, "Your honor, I'm self-employed."

Foley answered, "I know. If anyone needs shoe repair, go to this guy, he's one of the best in the Bay Area. Get back to work."

"It was a nice plug," Amato says.

From judges to the San Jose Fire Department's boots to Norman Mineta's shoes, Amato's trade has helped him get around.

Although he regularly receives praise from clients, the profession is not what it used to be, he says.

"We've lost a lot of talent and shoe companies," Amato says. "They used to make shoes in this country."

The shoemaker trade goes back three generations in Amato's family. His grandfather, Michael Amato, learned to make shoes in Italy, teaching his son Alphonse, but Amato never learned the shoemaking side of the business.

He says his shoe-repair abilities never rivaled his father's work because his father had shoemaking expertise.

"When I was younger, I was hungry for it, but now my heart's not in it," Amato says.

And the quality of shoe materials has declined, he adds.

"It used to be you could buy the best of everything," he says. "But now it's so geared for the buck, they've lost pride in quality. But I haven't changed my ways."

Amato wants to provide top workmanship, so he won't take shoes to repair if he knows they are too beat-up or not worth fixing.

"That's what I love about him," says longtime customer and company bookkeeper Linda Garcia. "He's straight up. Pat won't fix junk."

Garcia says she's seen people bring in quality shoes that have been poorly repaired, but Amato makes them look brand-new.

He even "signs" his work with a leather stamp so that he'll know if he's done work on a shoe before.

But it's just a honest day's work and he's not out to make a fortune.

A woman from Santa Cruz was looking for orthopedic shoes because she had a handicap and another store had quoted her a $150 price, he says. Amato was able to provide the same work for $50.

"I always tried to do a good deed a day," he says. "Put a stitch in something, makes a hole in a belt."

And his clientele appreciate his work ethic and handicraft.

Scorpiniti says it's the eye-to-eye contact and customer-to-tradesman relationship that is unfortunately vanishing from the service industry.

Even after all these years, it will be hard for Amato to say goodbye.

"Certain customers come in that make you want to stay," Amato says. "The best customers don't know how to thank you, so they bring you cookies and cakes. There's a lot of neat people in America."