A Family Affair
By Terri Milner Tarquini
J
oseph Spiteri was both a product and the embodiment of The Greatest Generation. Known as such because the men and women born in 1900 through the 1930s did not set out to seek fame or recognition, The Greatest Generation believed that whatever they chose to do should be done well. These are the values that make up the fabric of a man who founded and built a company that is still one of the leading custom boot manufacturers in the U.S. and the world. “Once my dad became committed to making skates, he believed they should be the best skates they could be,” said son George Spiteri of Joseph, who founded SP-Teri Boots over five decades ago. “He believed in working five, six, seven days a week—whatever it took— to satisfy the customer.” Joseph had been a cobbler in his native Malta, an island in the Mediterranean Sea, before migrating to San Francisco in 1946 as a newly-married 23-year-old. He soon heard of Joe Galdes, also from Malta, who owned a shoe shop and was partners with Louis Harlick. “He thought he would work there for a little while, get some money in his pocket and move on to other opportunities,” George said of the shop that constructed such offerings as riding boots, ballet slippers, flamenco
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boots, and dance shoes. But fate intervened in 1947 when some ice dancers who were in need of skates approached Harlick. Back then, skating boots were really only available in Minnesota, Chicago, and New York and were essentially two layers of leather—basically a riding boot, but cut lower and with laces. Harlick saw an opportunity in the industry. In short order, Joseph became the head designer of skates for the company and, Galdes having been previously bought out, a partner of Harlick’s in the 1950s, along with Jack Henderson. “During this time, they developed one stock boot and one custom boot for figure skaters,” George said, “and they stopped making all other lines of footwear. So, skating was it.” Those were the years when George was putting in time at what would one day be his future—although he didn’t know it then. “I wasn’t even a teenager yet and my dad was still with Mr. Harlick,” George said. “I’d go sweep the floors and empty garbage cans for four hours and Mr. Harlick would give me a dollar—which was a big deal back then.” In 1960, at a time when there was no cure, Harlick
