Alamodoso Magazine Dia De Los Muertos October 2018

INSIDE THIS EDITION ● Discover Carrizozo Pg 6 ● Dia De Los Muertos Lincoln Pg 28 ● The Water Boss Pg 48 ● Father Braun’s Cathedral Pg 62 ● Margaret & The Cowboy Pg 88 ● Timberon History Pg 95 ● Ode To An Outhouse Pg 108 ● Local Advertising ● And Much More

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Discover Carrizozo’s Art District

The Carrizozo Art District is located on Carrizozo’s Historic 12th Street, Just one block off Highway 54

The Foundation of Carrizozo; a boom town dies, another is born The town of White Oaks was one of a thousand boom towns scattered throughout New Mexico that sprang up to exploit the territory’s rich natural resources. White Oaks sat at the foot of the Jicarilla Mountains, a small range north of the larger Sacramento Mountains. It was built to support mining operations when prospectors discovered gold deposits in 1879. Like many such towns throughout the west, property values soared as speculators and entrepreneurs jostled to make their fortune. Eventually, the town became so expensive that people started moving elsewhere, including the the nearby Tularosa basin.

Carrizozo was one such place. Carrizo is Spanish for reed grass, and the northern edge of the Tularosa basin had an abundance of it at the end of the nineteenth century. Some ranchers, businessmen, and miners not successful enough to live in White Oaks moved to land about 12 miles southwest of town, and formed a new settlement. Story continues on page 8

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PHOTOGRAPHIC EXHIBITION Santa Fe comes to

The Largest Photographic Gallery in the entire State is in Carrizozo. Over 7,500 sq. ft. in size and featuring the images of over 30 Member Photographers who are all from New Mexico and all the photographs in the Gallery are taken in New Mexico.

The Gallery also has on display all the Winning 24 photographs from the Annual New Mexico Magazine Photo Contest. This is a combination of fabulous photo images that you must see to believe.

BUT IT GETS BETTER THIS NEXT MONTH !!!

Lee Manning

Tularosa Basin Photo Gallery The largest photo gallery in New Mexico

WELCOMES The Santa Fe Photo Eclectic Club Don’t miss the largest exhibition in the history of the Santa Fe Photo Eclectic Club. Featuring ten extraordinary, awardwinning Santa Fe photographers with over 200 images showcasing New Mexico— The Land of Enchantment.

OPENING RECEPTION: Saturday, Nov 3, 5–9pm EXHIBITION: Nov 3, 2018–Jan 31, 2019 Open all week except Tuesdays 10am – 5pm, Wed. – Mon. 12pm – 5pm, Sun. 401 12th Street, Carrizozo, NM 575.937.1489

photozozo.org

The Tularosa Basin Gallery of Photography in Carrizozo will exclusively host and feature the works of 10 extraordinary and diverse Photographers from the Santa Fe Eclectic Photo Club this November 3, 2018 through January 31, 2019.

These Award Winning Artists have exhibited locally, nationally,internationally, and have been featured in numerous publications throughout the preceding decades. Collectively, they have worked at their craft for over 300 years. This will be the largest display ever in the history of the Club.

Members of this elite Collective are, and have been, gallery owners, world travelers, Hollywood Cinematographers, darkroom and digital professionals, and encaustic and montage Artists.

The Exhibition promises a stunning variety of viewpoints and techniques, all showcasing The Land Of Enchantment.

The OPENING RECEPTION will be Saturday November 3rd from 5:00 PM to 9:00 PM. Refreshments will be served.

The Tularosa Basin Gallery of Photography WELCOMES the Santa Fe Eclectic Photo Club!!!

401 12th Street in Carrizozo, NM 88301 # 575-937-1489 www.photozozo.org Gallery is open all week except Tuesdays.

Wed-Mon 10 AM to 5 PM...Sundays Noon to 5 PM

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MALKERSON GALLERY 408 Contemporary Art & Sculpture Garden

Page 8 The area was named Carrizozo in honor of its main resource by a local ranch foreman, who added the extra zo to emphasize its bounty. The lower property values and increasing population led to Carrizozo’s survival and White Oaks’ eventual demise, as it did for many such boom towns in the territory.

When the railroads came, they had to buy land from local owners; railroads were private, and there was no eminent domain. So the railroad companies selected land that was not only useful for a railway, but cheap. Carrizozo was cheap, and White Oaks was most definitely not.

The El Paso and Northeastern Railroad built a depot on Carrizozo Flats, and the town was born. Though EP&N has long since ceased to exist, Carrizozo remains. In 1913 it was made the county seat for Lincoln County, just as New Mexico was admitted to the Union. White Oaks is now a ghost town — the Jicarillas were mined out around the turn of the century, and nothing remains but elegant, crumbling skeletons of mansions and schools.

The Other Lincoln County War

Home of “The Painted Burros of Southern New Mexico” and work

by Lincoln County artists.

www.Gallery408.com 408 12th Street, Carrizozo, NM Open Friday–Monday 575.648.2598

The town of Carrizozo had its share of growing pains. Even the establishment of the county seat there was a matter of contention. The Lincoln County seat was originally in the town of Lincoln, about 15 miles east of Carrizozo. When the railroads came and Carrizozo was founded, Lincoln County commissioners Robert Taylor, Charles Wingfield, and Rumaldo Duran decided to move the county seat from Lincoln to the new town. In 1909 they held a successful county-wide referendum on the matter, and prepared to construct a court house and jail in Carrizozo.

That’s when the trouble started. S.T. Gray and Robert Brady fought the change of seat, claiming the county

Story continues page 11

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commission had violated laws and procedures regarding the movement of county seats to locations nearer railways.

There were laws on the books at that time covering the relocation of county seats to railroad centers; there were no cars or real roads to speak of at this time, so railroads were of supreme importance. Gray and Brady took their suit all the way to the United States Supreme Court, who decided in favor of the defendants (Gray v. Taylor, 227 U.S. 51) in 1913, in a short opinion written by Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. The town of Lincoln has since gone the way of history, with only 150 residents and more museums than businesses.

Like modern businesses, the railroads of the turn of the century went through their own economic cycles and speculative periods. EP&N thrived at first, was bought by the Phelps Dodge mining company in 1905, and continued to thrive for nearly two decades afterwards. But a railroad strike in 1923 was a major blow to the railroad from which it never fully recovered — what remained of EP&N was dissolved in 1937, though the tracks were still used by other railroads. The great depression also hurt Carrizozo, though as the local seat of government it was better-off than other towns.

Carrizozo got by with government money from the Works Projects Administration supplementing what agriculture, mining and railroad work the town could do on its own. Many people left in search of greener pastures, but the town itself survived.

The rise of the highway and the automobile in

maintenance than earlier coal-fired engines. After the highways came through, the railroads no longer even bothered to stop in Carrizozo — after 60 years, all that remained of the industry that made the town was a Union Pacific thru-way and a museum. But the highways brought their own economy, including gas stations and motels, businesses which not only thrived, but were often the new lifeblood of many former railroad towns.

the 1930’s further damaged the Carrizozo’s railroad economy, as local farmers and ranchers started moving their goods by truck along newlyconstructed Highways 54 and 380.

The rise of the diesel locomotive in the 1950s was the last straw, since diesels required far less

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Goat Herding in Otero County A story by Cliff McDonald

Sam Gilliland knocked on our door just at daylight. My brothers and I had been waiting in euphoric anticipation for this moment for several days. I was twelve years old and didn't know Sam, but I had seen him roping at rodeos. He was six-foot plus, red-headed, strong, and tall and straight in the saddle.

One reason the Gillilands were heroes to me and my brothers was the gun battle at Wildy Well.

Sam's brother, Jim Gilliland and Oliver Lee had been attacked by Pat Garrett and his posse while they were asleep. We believed the sheriff had taken an unfair advantage. Of course this happened before we were born, but we had heard the story, and our loyalties lay with Gilliland and Lee, who fought back and defeated Garrett and his posse, killing one of Pat's men.

sat down at the big kitchen table, waiting for Mother to finish cooking breakfast. Sam and his wife had been married just over two weeks - and she was a beautiful lady!

Soon, breakfast was over and we went out to the corral. Sam walked around through the herd, looking the goats over. He would occasionally catch one and check its teeth for age. Dad wanted two dollars per head and Sam wanted them for a dollar seventy-five. Finally, Sam said, "We are going to have to drive them cross country on foot 'cause so much of this country is fenced up now."

Dad had told us a few days before that Sam was coming to possibly buy a herd of goats from us.

Not only were we happy about meeting Sam, but we were also hoping to get some money from the sale of the goats to buy some new school clothes.

We knew what he meant. the goats could go through fences but saddle horses could not. Sam took off his hat, scratched his head and said, "Tell you what I'll do. I'll give you two dollars a head for all the goats we get to my ranch. If we lose any of them along the way, I can't pay you for them." Dad said, "Fair enough. I'll send this boy here with you. He's a good herder; he'll get 'em all there. His name is Clif." I was elated to be the one chosen out of eight boys!

There was a fire in the kitchen stove and the coffee pot was percolating. Dad got up, opened the door and said, "Come on in, Sam." Sam said, "I brought my wife." and Dad said, "Bring her in.

Breakfast is about ready." They came in, introductions were made all around, and everyone

We filled our canteens, got our slickers and a pocket full of jerky and headed out to Sam's ranch which was south of Carrizozo. Sam's wife met us in the truck with food and bedrolls where we made camp that night. Next morning we had finished breakfast when it started coming

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good enough to move this herd. We sure could make lots of miles before it get hot tomorrow and it's only about twenty-five miles to Three Rivers.

We can get something to eat there." So we moved them out. We could see well enough on the ridges, but when we had to cross a canyon, some of the goats would stop under the trees and I couldn't see them. So, I would take the dog and We left Tulie Creek the next morning, headed bark them out in the open. This worked well, but north through the saddle just west of Cat I also woke several rattle snakes which was kinda Mountain. We were to meet Sam's wife that night scary in the dark; and, I was afraid maybe I wasn't in Coyote Canyon near the Indian reservation. getting all the goats out of the brush.

About noon it started raining and we put on our slickers. It was almost dark when we reached our Next morning when it came good daylight, I looked over the herd but I couldn't tell if I had lost next campsite. We found a good tank of water any goats. We were on the lower slopes of Sierra but the corral had deteriorated to the point that it Blanca Mountain. Looking to the west across the wouldn't hold our goats, so we had to take turns Tularosa Basin, we could not see Three Rivers, a watching them so they wouldn't run off and get ranch house, nor any sign of life. We were so lost. hungry and tired, and the goats were so tired that Sam's wife didn't show up with our food and they couldn't make much mileage. I suggested we bedrolls so we figured the roads had been rest, but Sam said, "If we stop, we're going to washed out because a lot of the road was in the stiffen up and it will be worse. Besides, our arroyo bed. You don't know how hungry a canteens are dry." twelve-year-old boy can get. I had run out of About that time we spotted a windmill and we jerky about noon the day before. Sam asked me could see the blades turning in the morning sun. if I thought I could eat some goat meat if we butchered one, and I said, "If we could find some We figured there might be a ranch house there, too, and we could get food and water. However, dry wood to cook it with, I can." it appeared to be several miles away. This kind of About that time the moon started coming up and gave us a second wind, and Sam asked, "Can you got very bright. Sam said, "You know with this make it, Kid?" I said sure! If these goats don't cool night air and moonlight, we can maybe see daylight. Sam and me and his dog had all become good friends by then. His dog was a well trained, good herder. When we got the herd strung out and grazing, we would sit down to rest and drink out of our canteens. Then Sam would pour some water in his hat and hold it for his dog to drink out of.

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Alamodoso@gmail.com sull on us, and, if it don't get too hot, we can be there in about four or five hours."

About an hour later I could see a long dust plume going north down in the basin beyond the windmill and we knew it was a car on Highway 54 between Tularosa and Three Rivers; Highway 54 was not paved then. Soon after that, we saw a train. This gave me assurance we could eventually come back into civilization. I had never been in this part of the country, but I knew there were people and food down there somewhere.

As the day got hotter, the herd got tireder and slower; I didn't have any trouble with any of them trying to break out of the herd. I was so tired, I couldn't have done anything about it. Sam and I were both punching up the drags this time. After an hour of silence, Sam finally said, "The windmill is just over this next mountain. Can you make it, Kid?" I said, "Sure I can!" But in my

Page 14 own mind, I was not at all sure I could climb that next mountain. When we did finally make it to the top there was good news - there was a big trough of water, but no ranch house. When we got to the water, the goats were climbing on top of each other trying to get a drink and we joined in the competition.

As soon as all the goats got water, they bedded down to rest. It was about three in the afternoon, and I tried to figure out how many meals I had missed in a row, but the days and nights ran together. I lay down in the shade of a mesquite

bush and I immediately went to sleep. I sprang to my feet an hour later, aware of my responsibility to keep the herd together, but they were all still bedded down. Sam said, "They ain't going nowhere." We had become good friends by then, and I felt proud to be pardnering with a man like Sam.

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Alamodoso@gmail.com Sam said, "Well, we got several options. We can cook a goat and spend the night here, or one of us can walk on into Three Rivers and bring food back, or we can just wait awhile. My wife may find us before long if she ain't stuck somewhere. What do you think we should do?"

My hunger was overcome by the joy that Sam was including me in the decision making. I felt like I had gained his confidence.

We didn't have to make the decision because we heard a truck engine coming up the arroyo bed.

He cupped his hands behind his ears intently for a moment and said, "Yeah, that's my truck."

We were waving our hats as Sam's wife came up over the rise.

She pulled up and said, "The roads were washed out yesterday. I been lookin' for you all day." After we had eaten everything on the truck, Sam said, "Let's spend the night here.

Let's get the herd up and graze 'em awhile, so they won't be restless tonight."

The next night we spent near Three Rivers. We herded the goats back into a box arroyo and I unrolled my bed in the mouth of the divide so I would wake up if they started to leave. Sure enough, I woke with them walking out over me.

I looked to the east and it was beginning to be light, so I knew I could have enough light to gather them in about thirty minutes. The following night we bedded them down in a big, dry dirt tank and took turns watching. We could skylight them as they went over the tank dump. The next evening we reached our destination at Sam's ranch, which was south of Carrizozo, right next to the lava flow. I sure slept good knowing the goats were all corralled.

Page 15 Dear Mom and Dad, We finished the drive. Be home in two weeks. I'm working for Sam awhile. We only lost five head.

Clif

I got a whole new experience herding on the lava rocks. There was lots of good brush for browsing. But again, we couldn't ride horseback because it was too rocky. So when I finally got home, I had completely worn out my shoes.

Sam came back and brought me a new pocket knife for a present. It was a Barlow with good metal, the first expensive knife I had ever owned.

When we got home and Sam paid my dad for the goats, he shook my hand and said, "Enjoyed working with you, Kid, and I'll see you again."

He still called me Kid when I was fifty years old.

He would come to my barber shop and say, "Hi, Kid, how about let's cook a goat?" Sam is long since gone, but I think about him often and I miss him. I'm eighty-five years old now, and I'll probably be seeing him again before too long. He will probably ride over from the side of the arena and say, "Hi, Kid, how about let's cook a goat."

When we counted them out in the morning, and we had only lost five head, I was very relieved because I knew it could have been much worse.

After the count, Sam said, "Would you do me a big favor?" I said, "Sure, anything!" And he said, "I've got to go to Roswell and hire another herder to help this one I've got. I'd like you to help my herder till I get back and I'll get you home in a couple of weeks before school starts."

So I said, "OK. I'll write and tell my folks if you'll mail the letter tomorrow in Carrizozo."

(There were no phones or electricity in the ranch country at that time). So I wrote:

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Ask about our VEGETARIAN tea parties!

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THE LINCOLN MERCHANTS ASSOCIATION PRESENTS THE

5TH ANNUAL

DIA DE U M ERTOS LOS V 10AM-4PM

OFRENDAS/ALTARS FACE PAINTING FOOD & DRINK LIVE MUSIC

FESTI AL E E ON I S FDR S I A M SATURDAY NOV 3RD 2018

MORE SURPRISES FAMILY ACTIVITIES VENDORS HISTORICAL PRESENTATION

artwork by sean wells

HISTORIC LINCOLN NEW MEXICO FOR INFORMATION CALL (575) 653-4045

Dia de Muertos in Lincoln Dia de Muertos, a celebration that dates back 4,000 years to the indigenous people of Mexico (Mayan and Aztec), is a way to honor deceased loved ones. The believed that the nature of life included death; it was a natural function, not to be feared.

Believing in an afterlife, they considered it disrespectful to morn on the days that the souls of the dead returned for a visit; so a party-like atmosphere evolved where they welcomed the return of the deceased with flowers, food, drink and music.

Today, as in the past, cemeteries are decorated with flowers, and folks gather there for picnics and revelry.

“Ofrendas” (alters) are created, decorated with the favorite foods, drinks, photos, “calaveras” (sugar skulls) and flowers. Traditionally, marigolds are preferred; paths are strewn with flowers and lined with candles to guide the dead to their homes.

When the Spanish conquered Mexico in the 16th century, they incorporated the rites of the natives with their own celebration of All Saints and All Souls Day, a catholic and more solemn event.

Today, around the world, and especially in Latin countries, Dia de Muertos ( Day of the dead) is a joyous and colorful celebration.

In honor of this festive and deeply respectful tradition, the Lincoln Merchants Association invite you all to our 5th annual Dia de Los Muertos celebration here in Lincoln, New Mexico, on November 5th from 10am to 4pm. There will be a full range of events planned, and admission is free.

Family activities include mask decorating, paper flower making and face painting by popular artists along with displays of “ofrendas” (alters) and live music. These free events will occur throughout the town of Lincoln. A schedule At the home, a wash basin with soap and of events will be posted at various towel is often placed outside for the dead to merchant locations. prepare to dine with the family. Another Entertainment will feature “La Ultima”, tradition is the creation of “papel picado”, a string of hand-cut paper flags which flutter a New Mexico Spanish music trio from Carrizozo, “Mariachi Unido” from in the breeze indicating that the dead are Carlsbad, “Los Galleros Mariachi Band” arriving.

from Lubbock, Texas, and “Kamikaze Elk” from Ruidoso. The musicians will be performing the entire day throughout the village. Featured speaker is Dr. Cynthia Orozco, who will build an “ofrenda” (alter) for Juan Patron, the most prominent Hispanic in Lincoln, while discussing the history of the observance by indigenous people of Mexico, Europe and the United States. Dr. Orozco has taught history and humanities at ENMU Ruidoso for 20 years.

Local eateries will provide food and drink specials’ Plan to bring friends and family to the Village of Lincoln for a fun-filled and historical day on Saturday, November 3rd, from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.

For more information, call 575-6534045.

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S & T Bait, Tackle & Marine We will get you back on the water!

Boat and Motor Repair & Service All Makes & Models | Modern & Vintage Trouble Shooting Our Specialty Carpet Repair | Insurance Work

700 E 1st St # 724 | Alamogordo | (575) 437-8927

Granada Shopping Center

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Page 48 Grinning at the reply, Frank put the pickup into gear and moved on down the road.

"Who gets water today?" RoRo asked as they bounced along the rutted dirt lane.

"Got three runs going out," Frank replied, turning the steering wheel hard to the left to avoid a dip rut. "Ollie Ander's gettin' a run and so's that squirrelly Horace Marlow. And, you, of course."

"That Horace. He's un hombre loco." RoRo flashed a grin. "Don't know why Vieja Vera keeps him working."

Frank chuckled. "Yeah, makes a feller wonder, don't it? 'Course, Old Vera probably needs a feller around to do the hard and dirty work. Shure don't figure that tough old gal needs one around for anything else."

A Fictional Story Based on Reality by Julie Lloyd FRANK WELTON: OSITA WATERBOSS Chapter 3 RoRo lifted his empty hand in greeting and called out, "Buenos dias!" just as he grabbed a long handled shovel beside the door and headed toward Frank.

"Buenos dias, RoRo. ÂżComo esta?" Frank said, smiling broadly.

"Estoy frio, amigo," RoRo replied.

"Yep, it's purty cold," Frank agreed. "You think it's gonna rain today?"

As soon as RoRo climbed in, he answered, "No, don't think it's gonna rain. But looks like it's gonna wind."

Both men laughed out loud at the insinuating remark.

Frank pulled off the road and stopped next to the field where RoRo would be irrigating. Cold wind rushed into the cab when RoRo opened the pickup door to get out. Frank reached over to open the glove compartment and pulled out two candy bars.

"Here, RoRo," he said. "These might come in handy later on."

A smile spread across RoRo's face as he took the candy.

"Gracias, SeĂąor Frank. You bet I will like these while I hide behind a tree from the wind purty soon."

Grinning, he slammed the door and backed away from the pickup, waving the candy bars in one hand and hoisting his shovel and bagged lunch in another.

Frank continued on to the main highway, and up to the reservoir to turn the water into the irrigation ditches. The wind was blowing from the northeast. Winds coming from that direction were always strong, cold, and nasty. It was difficult to keep the pickup on the pavement. He

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Alamodoso@gmail.com topped a hill and went around the curve to stop on the side of the highway opposite the reservoir. He left the pickup running with the heater on. The raw wind cut through him as he stepped from the vehicle.

Page 49 walked down the rotting catwalk, back to the warmth of the pickup.

He drove down the road along the main ditch, visually checking to insure all the head gates were down on the smaller ditches not receiving Pulling the brim of his hat down as far as it would today's water and that there were no weeds go, he lowered his head and hurriedly limped plugging the ditch. He made sure all head gates across the highway, down the road embankment were raised to let a run of water go to each of the to a five-strand barbed wire fence. He grabbed the three farmers, Goad Hughes, Horace Marlow, and first two strands of wire, pushed down, and with a Ollie Ander, who were getting water this first day quick stride, he lifted his left leg over the fence. of the season. After making sure all was well, he Shifting his weight slightly he crossed his right checked his pocket watch. It was almost eight 'o leg over, letting go of the wire. It snapped back clock and he knew he would have to hurry to get into place with a twang as he loosed it. back home to pick up his kids in time to take them to school. On good days, they would walk While crossing a small gully, he noticed a light from the house and meet him beside the highway. fringe of ice on the side of a mud puddle. It was That was a four-mile shortcut, but on bad days he almost windless here. He limped through a tangle drove home to get them. Today's cold, hard wind of overhanging salt cedar branches, and then was bad enough to make him feel it was too bad climbed up a well-worn path to the rim of the to have them walk and wait for him. He wished reservoir. The wind hit him full force as he he had more time so that he could eat breakfast, topped the bank. Tiny waves whipped across the but that would have to wait. He would come back pond of water. Along the bank, cattails rustled in for something to eat later, after his school the wind. delivery.

Chapter 4 EILEEN WELTON: Frank Welton's Wife The sound from iron pipes ringing metallically against the concrete siding of the cattle guard as Frank's pickup bounced across them woke Eileen from her early morning sleep. She lay quietly beneath the warm flannel blanket with heavy comforters pulled over her, straining to hear the pickup motor until the sound died away. Sighing, she turned under the covers, pulling her knees up so that her feet were in the warm spot where her legs had been. She closed her eyes again. It was almost time to leave the warm comfort of the bed He took a few short steps along an old catwalk and begin the day's chores, but she didn't feel like before taking a key from his key ring, fitted it into moving. It was always this way with her during the padlock of a big iron wheel and began cold or chilly mornings. turning. Twelve feet below the wheel, a heavy wooden headgate began lifting. Once, twice, three When she opened her eyes again, she saw the times the wheel went round until a tiny whirlpool pale light of dawn. Through the bedroom window appeared on top of the water. Frank knew the first she watched the slender, leafless limbs of the water run for the season was on its way down the young walnut tree in the front yard whipping main ditch. He put the chain back around the about in the wind. Beyond that she saw the sky, wheel and snapped the padlock shut. Turning, he dusty grey above the dry, brown foothills.

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Alamodoso@gmail.com It's going to be another windy day, she thought unhappily.

Throwing back the warm covers quickly, she put her feet into a pair of cold slippers beside the bed.

Goose bumps rose on her flesh and she felt angry at having to get up. A cold draft forced its way through a crack in the outside door. Pulling a faded pink chenille robe over her body, she hurried from the bedroom.

It seemed warmer in the children's room she thought as she passed through it. All she could see of the two girls were the tops of their heads sticking from beneath the heavy pile of covers.

Their bodies were cuddled together for warmth, making a mound of covers resembling a small haystack. She smiled at the scene, hurrying through the cold living room to another closed door, eager to get into the kitchen and welcome the warmth there.

Page 50 where it leaked out to keep the burlap wet. There she kept her milk vessels and butter before the refrigerator became part of their life. When electricity finally was installed a little more than a year ago, she moved the contents of the window cooler to the new refrigerator. Next, she tore off the burlap to let more light into the kitchen. The old cooler was now a catchall for empty jars.

Eileen took a green cup from the cupboard and poured herself some coffee. Taking the chair that Frank had been sitting in earlier, she sat down beside the butane space heater, listening to the wind moan outside. She looked at her cup, remembering how she had collected a whole set of them from boxes of oatmeal. She even had a matching set of plates and saucers. She wondered bitterly if she would ever get to have things like other women.

The coffee served its purpose and Eileen put off going out into the cold morning until the last minute. She ran to the back of the house where As usual, Frank had left the small space heater the bright tin privy stood, stolidly withstanding burning on low so the room would stay warm after he left for work. During the cold months, the the brisk, cold wind. It did not hold out the cold and Eileen shivered. kitchen was the room where the family spent most of their time, except for sleeping. It was the "This year I'm going to do my damnedest to get biggest room in the house. Built in the mid an indoor toilet," she swore aloud. "If I have to 1800's, it was also the oldest and that accounted live in this hellhole out here, I might as well have for its primitive structure. The walls were thick a few comforts." adobe and plastered over with a thin layer of cement. She had painted over the drab grey color with light green calcimine in an attempt to add color to the room.

The low, warped ceiling boards bent beneath the heavy logs that supported the thick roof. Above the thick beams, Eileen knew there was almost a foot of dirt that made good insulation, but it also sifted down into the room and caused her to have to sweep the floor several times a day. Someone had put up a tongue and groove ceiling some years ago, but they had taken no pains so the boards followed the old dirt ceiling, leaving it like upside down waves. She had painted the warped boards a pale ivory to make the room brighter. It helped, but not much.

Two windows on the west side let some light into the room. Frank had built a small screened structure on the outside of one window and covered it with burlap. A large pan with a hole in the bottom sat on top of the burlap. During hot summer days, Eileen carried water to the pan

To be continued next edition

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The Evolution of Victoria; Part 2 A remembrance by Miss Alice of Victoria Jatonne answered “ I can’t pay you.”

Long story short, when I walked out, I had the key to the front door in my pocket.

Jatonne and I workd very well together. I ran the shop and she worked from her home in Cloudcroft. She allowed me toput in wedding gowns and tuxedos in the area that is now where my desk sits and in the vault. I also did total weddings.

My wedding shop was called “Exquisite Weddings” and what a great time we had. Many In 1986, the bottom fell out of the oil and gas of you will remember the huge wedding shows from 1986 - 2000 at the Civic Center. Exquisite market in the Texas Panhandle sending Bill and Alice Weinman to New Mexico looking for work. Weddings was a large part of the show and by then we owned a “very long” limo . One Being bored to tears, Alice came downtown to morning, trash day, my car had a flat so I brought visit a friend, Lila, who owned Natures Pantry my household garbage to town in my limo! It right next door to Victoria. I told Lila I needed

something to do. She said to me,

made the front page of the local paper!

“ Go next door and help Jatonne. Victoria has become more than she can handle.”

I had great drivers for the limo, Patrick and Jay (my sons for those who don’t know). If it was raining or muddy those big old boys gathered the brides and their long trains up in their arms and carried them into the church. Drivers and brides loved it.

So I took my courage in my hand and walked through the beautiful glass door into Victoria.

Jatonne was behind the counter. I walked up and said, “Hi, I’m Alice Weinman and I’m here to help you.”

Victoria has been very instrumental in developing “ Old Fashioned Christmas” a magical time in Historic Downtown.

Story continues next edition

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Page 53

OCTOBER BIRTH STONE: OPAL

Opals come in many different colors, which symbolizes the somewhat uncertain nature of October as a month. Some Octobers will be warm and pleasant: others will bring in winter and cold weather.

Harvest times are often connected with this month, as are the frightful connections with Samhain and Halloween.

The opal, therefore, is designed to protect those born in this month from evil or difficult moments.

Those born in this month are often somewhat similar to those born in September, but they have a more spiritual and searching side that makes them roam further from their home.

Scorpio monthly horoscope - October 2018 Your self-confidence is shining through for the entirely of this month. You feel sure in your own skin and grounded in your purpose. What you desire will come to you and people will appreciate your hard work. Love and health are also enduring On the 17th, as the sun moves into Libra, you may experience some financial loss and be confused about what decision to take. u typically make decisions based on instinct or a strong gut reaction.

Expert advice may assist. With Mercury in Virgo, you maintain a degree of enthusiasm and energy at work that is attractive On the 6th, as Mercury moves into Libra, you will embrace new work challenges as they emerge, and seniors will be beyond satisfied wit your ethics. On the 26th, Mercury moves into Scorpio, which can trigger jealousy in others who want what you have. It’s essential that you keep a cool head and don’t let others emotions dampen your own success.

You do not need to hold yourself back to make others feel better. Venus in Libra encourages you to spend money on things that please you, things that are pretty, useful or endearing in some way. Mars in Capricorn urges you to concentrate and focus on that which you desire. This is how you can bring it forth into reality.

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Pan de Muerto Translated literally as Bread of the Dead, this bakery product is placed on the Day of the Dead altar and enjoyed by the families of the deceased. The loaf’s shape, topping, and recipe varies from region to region. The loaf can be round, half-moon shaped, bow shaped, or represent the human form, and it can be topped with white or colored sugar, sesame seeds, a glaze, or an icing. The type of bread varies all the way from a very plain, airy white bread to a heavy, moist, egg rich sweet bread. The top of the loaf is sometimes decorated with smaller pieces of dough in the shapes of bones, tears, or flower petals

● 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened

The variety of Pan de Muerto probably most often heard of outside of its country of origin is common in central Mexico and consists of a semi-spherical sweet loaf adorned with smaller pieces of dough in the shape of stylized bones and topped with a light glaze and white sugar

● 4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

● Zest of 1 orange, grated ● 4 cups all-purpose flour ● 8 egg yolks ● 1/4 cup water ● 4 egg yolks, beaten ● Toppings

● 1/3 cup granulated or colored sugar PREPARATION To Make the Starter:

INGREDIENTS ● Starter ● 4cups all-purpose flour ● 1/3 cup granulated sugar ● 1 tablespoon active dry yeast ● 1 1/4 teaspoons sea salt ● 1/2 cup water ● 3 eggs ● Dough ● 1 cup granulated sugar

Combine the flour, sugar, yeast, and salt in a large bowl. Add the water and eggs and beat for about 5 minutes. Place the dough in a buttered bowl and allow it to rise in a warm place until it has doubled in size, about 2 hours.

To Make the Dough: When the starter has risen, give it a light blow to deflate it, and then break it into pieces and place in a mixing bowl. Mix in the sugar, butter, and orange zest. Beat in the flour and the eight egg yolks.

Slowly mix in the water until the dough is slightly sticky but smooth. Add additional water or flour if needed.

Lightly knead the dough on a floured work surface, then form it into a round dome. Butter and flour a

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Father Braun’s Cathedral

Father Braun was born September 5th 1889 to German immigrants in Los Angeles, California. Fr. Braun was ordained in 1915 and his first assignment was to the Mescalero Apache Reservation in 1916. In June 1918, he was permitted by his superiors to join the military as a US Army chaplain at Fort Bliss, El Paso, Texas. During WWI Fr. Braun was assigned as Chaplain in the U.S. 6th Infantry of the American Expeditionary Forces and served as a first lieutenant.

Fr. Braun saw action in one of the bloodiest World War I battles fought by American troops, the MeuseArgonne Offensive. It was said Fr. Braun was often at the front line strengthening, encouraging and administering to the wounded and burying the dead.

While in Europe Father Braun gained an appreciation for the immensity and beauty of the great European cathedrals.

When Fr. Braun returned to Mescalero after the war and saw the vast amount of timber and stone he wondered if it would be possible to build a cathedral/mission in honor of his fallen comrades.

Father Braun understood that building cathedrals cost money and he had none. However, he surmised that the cathedrals of the Middle Ages weren’t built with money and machines they were built by the hands and hearts of members of the church. So with

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Alamodoso@gmail.com this dream in mind and the help of several faithful Mescalero tribe members, fellow priests, a mason, and volunteer labors from the surrounding communities he began to build a cathedral one stone at a time.

It took Fr. Braun and his faithful followers seven years to lay the foundation. The walls of the mission are 131 feet long, 68 feet wide and 57 feet high all of native stone, and all placed by hand. As work progressed and progress became visible, Father Albert’s friends and the community began to rally around him. It is said the Mescalero community sponsored dances, suppers and other activities to help raise money to help Fr. Braun complete the mission.

One of Fr. Braun’s friends was Mr. Antonio Maria Leyva, who was a stone cutter from Santa Barbara who worked on the missions there. Mr. Leyva came to Mescalero in 1920 help Fr. Braun.

Father Braun is said to have told him “Tony I have a lifetime of work for a stone cutter, but no money for wages. Mr. Leyva is said to have replied “Father I do not want money, my children have grown and my wife has passed away. All I request is that when my life is over my body be sent back to Santa Barbara to be buried next to my wife.”

Mr. Leyva came to help Fr. Braun for sixteen years and died in the Mescalero hospital in 1936.

True to his word Fr. Braun arranged for him to be transported back to Santa Barbra for his burial next to his wife.

Following in Mr. Levya’s footsteps two other friends and fellow WW1 soldiers joined Fr. Braun and helped with the Mescalero mission. Captain Tom Beavers a British flying Ace who won 19 air duels with German pilots and Brother Salesius Kraft who fought on the Russian and French fronts. Captain Beavers came to visit Fr. Braun and stayed to become a salesman for the Tularosa Tie and Lumber Company. Through his cooperation much of the dressed lumber for the mission was provided at but little cost.

Brother Salesius who it is said survived many WWI battles arrived in Mescalero to help Fr. Braun and fell in love with the community and the people. It is said he often remarked to Fr. Braun “Here I will live and here I want to die.”

Unfortunately, brother Salesius was crushed by a

Page 63 stone which had fallen on him in the process of building the mission and he passed away of his injuries. He gave his life to the mission of Mescalero. It took Fr. Bruan, his friends and the Mescalero community over twenty years to complete the cathedral. Mr. Roland Hazard, of La Luz provided the tile for the roof and all that remained was the great glass windows.

After laboring for twenty years, relying on his faith in God, and the help of his community the cathedral was almost complete. However, Fr. Braun would have to wait for what would seem like another lifetime and endure another journey through the perils of war before his vision could be completed.

On December 7th 1941, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor and Fr. Braun once again put away his tools and put on his uniform for the second time to serve our great nation.

Fr. Braun was one of the 1600 men from New Mexico assigned to the 200th Coast Artillery that were taken prisoner at the fall of the Philippines and while a POW he ministered and cared for many of the the Bataan Death March survivors along with many fellow soldiers from the Mescalero and Tularosa Basin area.

Fr. Braun rejoined the Army to serve in World War II he owed the Bishop of El Paso $3,000.00 for a loan to help build the cathedral. Such was the dedication, courage and integrity of Fr. Braun he is said to have sent out the last payment on this loan by submarine from Corregidor to settle the debt with the Bishop.

After his liberation in 1945, Fr. Braun then a Lieutenant Colonel, returned to Mescalero and picked up where he left off in 1941. His mother in California was one of the first to donate funds to help finish the glass windows of the cathedral upon his return from WWII. It did not take long after his return to complete the cathedral/mission he dreamed of so many years earlier. Upon his return the cathedral was dedicated as the St. Joseph Apache Mission as a tribute to the veterans of both World Wars.

Story courtesy of Tales of the Tularosa by Mrs. Tom Charles and Ben Sainz

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Anyone who traveled U.S. 54 between El Paso and Alamogordo before the highway was widened to four lanes will likely remember the two-tree "Orogrande National Forest�

Children being pulled by goat, Tularosa 1928. Photo courtesy of Hilda Henley

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Page 69 FROM 1958

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Meet another GREAT member of the Neudorf Enterprises crew. Charles Emmitt Curry. Emmett brings a wealth of knowledge to our shop; he is the Heavy Truck Repair side of our crew.

Emmitt came to work for Neudorf Enterprises, LLC, in May of 2016. He brings to the table 20 years of experience in the automotive and heavy truck repair industry.

He started out in the automotive repair field in auto body and paint in Great Falls, Montana. He found out very fast that the auto body industry was not for him.

So, he began looking for a change and found a job at an auto repair shop in Billings, Montana.

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In 2016, Emmitt returned to New Mexico so he could be closser to where his beloved wife was laid to rest.

Upon his return to New Mexico, Emmitt applied for a job at Neudorf Enrerprises, LLC, where he was hired immediately.

Emmitt has been a GREAT asset to the team at Neudorf Enterprises. You can count on Emmitt to do a quality repair job on all of your heavy trucks and equipment.

For all of your heavy truck repair, give us a call at 575-488-6525 or stop on in at 1600 N. White Sands Blvd here in Alamogordo and we will get your repair scheduled.

From Montana, he moved to New Mexico and began working on heavy trucks in Deming and Tyrone, N.M., Where he met his wife.

They moved to Texas, where he worked for a heavy truck and equipment shop in Sterenville, Texas, until his wife passed away.

He then left Texas, moving to Memphis, Tennessee, where he worked at a heavy truck and trailer repair shop.

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Page 87

I had a dream the other night When the moon and stars were rather bright.

That there were children on the street, The cutest kids you’d ever meet And they were dazzled by a wondrous sight.

Gold and silver stars that sway, Butterfly wings to help you play, Wooden faces for your wall, Painted glasses both short and tall And solar things to light your way.

There are rocks from near and far, Some beautiful, some bazaar.

Some are big and some are tiny, Flat and smooth and round and shiny Even bits of fallen star.

Fossils from so long ago, Little things that in the dark glow.

Things to hear, smell taste and touch; GLOWBUGS has so very much.

Is it wonderous? Ever so!

Original poem by Gloria Marie of Globugs on New York Avenue, Alamogordo

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Page 88

Margaret and the Cowboy A Ghost Story Late in the year of 1960, my husband and I purchased and moved into one of the oldest farmhouses near Alamogordo, New Mexico. It was nearly a hundred years old and at the western edge of town on a now unused road that had traveled past our farm on through to the White Sands, over the San Andres Mountains, on to Las Cruces and eventually to California.

Pat Garret, Billy the Kid, Colonel Fountain, and an array of Apaches, Spaniards, Mexicans, heroes and villains had traversed the road behind our simple wooden, white, pitched-roof farmhouse. It was a quiet place, enclosed in elm trees, fat cotton woods, willows, several barns and a rickety arrangement of pens for sheep, chickens and turkeys.

A small house, used for itinerant farm hands, stood catty-corner to our house. It was then occupied by our hand, Gregorio, his wife and their small child. Forty acres of furrowed fields lay south of the houses and were edged on the west by a stingy apple orchard, too old to produce much but a drupelet, but the front yard abounded with fig bushes and apricot, pomegranate and mulberry trees.

My husband was a political sort, away at meetings many evenings, and one February evening this was the case. Our youngest daughter had been born on Christmas day two months previously and she was fussy this evening. I was trying to rock her back to sleep in front of the fireplace which was wildly crackling with a hot mesquite wood fire.

The older children were in their bedroom but kept getting up and pestering with requests for water or bathroom or "I can't sleep." A storm had begun brewing, beginning with brightening the windows with lightening, followed by close bursts of rambunctious thunder. Rain began pouring down in sheets, blown by a forceful wind. I relented to the children to bring in their blanket and lie next to us on the carpet in front of the fire.

As I rocked the baby and hummed a calming lullaby, I noticed the hatch door into the attic was rising up and hovering a few inches above the little frame that held it in place. It would slowly close and then a few minutes later it would hover open again. I kept rocking the baby and watching the hatch open and close.

The storm had begun to abate by this time and I began to fear that someone was in the attic and was watching us. I held tight to the baby and continued rocking until the door blew open, I jumped up, and in through the door bounded my husband. I spilled out my story about the hatch while my husband pulled off his winter coat and stood by the fire to warm himself. "It's probably just the draft pushing the door up," he said dismissively, but I persisted and he finally said he would get the ladder and see what was up there. "Maybe a critter," he said, "I don't know how anything could get in there, but we'll have a look" My husband brought a ladder in from the barn, triangled it the middle of our living room, and climbed to the ceiling with his flashlight. To our

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Alamodoso@gmail.com surprise, the hatch was constructed from heavy lumber and my husband struggled to lift it and set in onto the rafters. It seemed too heavy to me be lifted by a mere draft of air.

"There's nothing up here," he yelled back down.

"A thick layer of dust. It hasn't been disturbed, there's no tracks." He swung his flashlight from edge to edge of the attic. Secreted in the corner was a small wooden box, camouflaged with dust, untouched. "It sure doesn't look like there's been any movement up here. Maybe you were sleeping and dreamed the hatch was lifting up."

The next morning we viewed the results of the storm. Flood water, deluging down the Sacramento Mountains and overflowing the arroyos had swept across our front lawn and caved in an old hand dug well in our lawn that we were unaware of. We were shocked to find the well; it had been covered with heavy timber and sod and the weight of the flood water must have been too much for the decayed and rotted planks causing them to collapse.

The hole was about sixty feet deep and we feared that the children could fall into this pit and even though water didn't rise into the well anymore, it would be a deadly fall and needed to be filled. My husband and Gregorio filled the hole with rocks and dirt and replanted grass on top of the site.

After that night, there were changes at the old farm house. Some mornings we would find the breakfast table set with an odd assortment of dishes, a plate, a spoon, a cup and maybe a spatula; strange settings of dish wares appeared on our table intermittently. Tea towels would be folded or unfolded. Kitchen chairs would be moved, lights turned on or off and soft noises - clicks, scrapes, taps, - nothing uproarious. Sometimes guests would ask who just went into that room and when we investigated, we would find the room empty.

Page 89 administered back stitches, split stitches, french knots - all done in blue two strand thread, a four patch crazy quilt, two dishes bordered with pink roses, a spatula, several wooden spoons, two teacups and saucers, and an assemblage of mismatched spoons, forks, knives.

A simple white sleeping gown lay in the chest; its bodice was embellished with white cloud filling stitches which ended below the breasts and bedizened the bottom of the gown into Grecian folds. In the bottom of the trunk was a floral printed flour sack, tied at the top with a string, enclosing a pair of tiny pair of lamb's wool booties and a pair of knitting needles with a tiny white cap still in progress interlaced on the wooden sticks.

"It's someone's Hope Chest," I told my husband, uncomfortable with this new knowledge.

We decided to research the history of the old farm house. Through census records we learned that the original farm was homesteaded by a couple who had a daughter named Margaret who was 18.

We found a newspaper article saying that one summer Margaret had gone missing.

The newspaper reported that the family had hired a drifter, a young cowboy who worked for the family for about a year and one day the daughter and the hired hand disappeared. Thinking they had eloped, the family waited for their return, but they never came back. Stories filtered back of seeing the hired hand in neighboring Hillsboro, El Paso, or Las Vegas, but no sightings of Margaret were ever reported.

We considered the sequence of events on our farm: the storm, the flood, the uncovered well and the appearance of the ghost in our house. We have decided it is Margaret. We theorize that Margaret became pregnant and told the cowboy who did not take to the news kindly. We believe he killed her and dumped her in the dried up well and when the well cover collapsed, she escaped and moved back into the farmhouse.

Several months later we went back into the attic to remodel and turn the attic into bedrooms since the house had only two bedrooms and we had three children. The dust wafted as we stepped from rafter to rafter. Sitting on the joists in the corner was a small cedar chest, coated with decades of dust.

We have lived in this house with Margaret for 55 years. Her Hope Chest sits in the bedroom filled with her unused treasures. She still upsets our routine at times and I'm sure we upset hers, but we are all by now family.

I lifted the top and inside was a collection of embroidered linens with perfectly aligned and

by Barbara McDonald

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TIMBERON HISTORY

Judge Paul Moss purchased the property, now known as TIMBERON, from the State of New Mexico in 1933. His principle interest in this land was agriculture. A secondary interest was the housing and entertainment of guests for hunting and social gatherings.

His son, William, married former child movie star, Jane Withers. It is reported that they were frequent visitors here and brought many other Hollywood guests to enjoy the secluded beauty and entertainment.

Following the death of Judge Moss, this land was purchased from his heirs by Willie Farah of El Paso, Texas. Farah had a substantial interest in airplanes and lost no time in building the development’s first airstrip.

beginning of 1982. The Emergency Medical Service was formed within the Fire Department on February 20, 1982.

NALD deeded 18 acres of land in March 1975. This is the property on which the Timberon Lodge, swimming pool, playground, and fishing lakes are located.

Postal Service for a mail delivery route to serve the community was established in December 1974. The Timberon Community Post Office was opened in October 1981, with the zip code, 88350, becoming effective in September 1984.

The only telephone service available in Timberon before 1981 was a radio telephone unit located at the Timberon Lodge. Regular In March 1969, the land was sold by Farah to a telephone lines were installed throughout the group of businessmen who later formed the property in Fall 1981. corporation known as North American Land The Otero County Electric Co-Op first ran Development (NALD), which deeded property electric power lines to and through Timberon in for parks, a chapel, and a school.

1961, to serve the several ranches along the The Timberon Volunteer Fire Department was Sacramento River. The first service to the development was made in 1971. organized in October 1974. The department was certified by the State of New Mexico effective The access to Timberon was maintained by January 1976. The first fire truck, a 1951 Otero County until 2001 when the first 5 miles of Chevrolet/Howe, was bought from the Jal New the existing 14 mile gravel Sacramento River Mexico Fire Department. A 3-bay fire station was Road was improved and paved. built during the latter part of 1981 and the

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Come on down to Runyan Ranch‌ We just can’t wait to meet you!

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Four solid walls framed for wind Sit on a plywood floor.

Step inside the outhouse That doesn’t have a door.

The walls hold treasures Bright and new.

And a colorful christmas tree, Sits on the seat, so nice and neat Where you might want to … be.

Of course that will never work,

Ode To An Outhouse Claude Wilson December 2013

But makes me smile even more, And enjoy visiting Victoria And the outhouse, without a door.

There is an outhouse in a Christmas Store.

Built by a cowboy carpenter; Bill Weiman … is he.

The metal roof would shed the rain If ever the store might leak.

Comfort was planned, then assured.

Bill beveled the oval seat.

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Open Monday - Thursday 11-8 Friday & Saturday 11-10 Closed Sundays

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Delivery & Set Up and Take-Away Available

Regardless of credit!

National Furniture Liquidators 900 S White Sands Blvd | Alamogordo | (575) 443-9199 Monday thru Saturday 10-7 & Sunday 12-5

Alamodoso@gmail.com

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See this edition and past issues at issuu.com/alamodosomagazine