Loe raamatut: «The Pinos Altos Story», lehekülg 3

Many men like Jim Hill and his brother had taken up homesteads on the Upper Gila and along the Sapello. They traded in Pinos Altos and drove their cattle through town to the stock yards below Silver City. Merchants waited six months or a year for those accounts to be settled but they always were. One rancher, in for supplies, would take out coffee, tobacco and mail to all along his way. Newspapers, no matter how old, and magazines were always welcomed in the remote areas. Each merchant had a collection box for them. The corrals at the stores were open to the ranchers and often they were filled with pack animals. Trappers and government hunters also camped in the corrals. Ben Lilly and Nat Straw were regular visitors and once in a great while “Bear” Moore would come to town. Moore had lived in a cabin at the mouth of Big Cherry before he moved to the West Fork. He had been badly mauled and disfigured as a result of an encounter with a bear and had withdrawn from contacts with his fellow men as much as possible. As he told his story, he had killed a half-grown cub in a rocky canyon when the mother appeared around a bend. Moore’s gum jammed and the bear was upon him. He fought with sticks, stones and his bare hands, unable to escape. When he regained consciousness the dead bear was lying beside him and Moore was torn to pieces, a jaw bone and part of his breast were gone. Looking down at the gaping hole he said that he could see his heart beating. That he was able to crawl to camp and receive help was miraculous. His last years were spent prospecting in the headwaters of the Gila country and it was rumored that he made a rich find. When his last camp was found Moore had been dead for some time. A handful of beans, the remains of a shank of venison, a canvas bag containing worthless rock was all that was found. The old hermit had died of starvation and exposure.

The Hearst Company renovated the store with paper and paint, arranging the stock into departments, as drug, dry-goods, hardware, etc. A large sheet iron warehouse was added for rails and other mining equipment. Also erected was an office building, a mess for office and store employees, and new homes for their foremen. The Bell and Stephens duplex was remodeled for the Thayer and Risque families. Altogether the old town had a new look. Stephens, before he would sign the sale papers, had insisted that “his people” be given consideration and cared for, and the Hearst Company carried out this policy. “Chan” Derbyshire was promoted to be store manager and promising local boys were changed from common laborers to store clerks—Tom Hall and Fernando Chavez were two of them. Will Rivers and George Turner came from Silver City to take positions. Among the men who were brought in were Harry Thorne, assayer and Mike Riney, master mechanic.

When Bell and Stephens had announced the sale of their property to the Hearst Interests there was great excitement. The Hearsts represented money and money could do great things, but at the same time, they were sorry to see the Bell and Stephens families depart. The property had been turned over when Mr. Daniel B. Jillette, Jr., representing the Hearst Interests, presented Mrs. Bell a farewell gift, the last ingot from the Bell and Stephens Mill. This gold has been used only for wedding rings and from the amount remaining today it will furnish wedding rings to the Bell family for many, many generations.

The 1900’s

There must have been doctors here before the ’80’s but they left no records. Dr. Lewis B. Robinson came to take charge of the drug store and to care for the ill and injured. He was a character, crude in his methods but a family physician of the old school, ready day or night to go where ever needed. He would go to a home just to see the folks, have the children stick out their tongues, sometimes leaving pills or asking them to go by the drug store for a powder. There was a “pest house” where victims of small pox were quarantined. Once the case was confined there was improving and had gone outside to sit in the sun, when he went inside he found that his bedding had disappeared. When “Doc” was informed he said, “Well never mind, we’ll know who took the blankets in a few days.” Sure enough, Joe Acosta came down with the small pox and was marked for the rest of his life. Other doctors came and went and for a time there was a dentist with his own office and equipment, but usually the inhabitants depended on the semi-annual visits of Dr. W. H. White of Silver City to have dental care.

The climate attracted health seekers, particularly those with tuberculosis. Most followed a rest cure, others tried to work, some went out to ranches. It is recalled that one young man would go to a slaughter house whenever a beef was to be killed and drink a cup of warm blood. Some went home to die, others were shipped East, but there were others, like Russell Davidson who came from Nova Scotia and was taken from the train on a stretcher, who lived a long and active life. William Sweikert was a health seeker (1908-1911) who was interested in the native population. He was Justice of Peace and as such, came in contact with some quite often. He was shocked to learn that many families had not been married so he rounded up the men and women involved and persuaded them to get licenses and he would perform the civil ceremonies. When that had been done, the next step was to have the marriages blessed by a priest. All friends and relatives gathered, children dressed in new white dresses or blue jeans formed a procession to the church. “Un Gran’ Baile” was held and the bridegrooms broke “carones” over the heads of the gray-haired brides with as much ardor as much younger gay caballeros would have done.

Soldiers from Fort Bayard had always ridden across the hills, at first on duty, then to call on the pretty girls. Many passes were issued because of a party or a dance. However, the girls were choosy and not all soldiers were welcomed. They were admitted to other places, however, and their trails could be followed by the “dead soldiers” (large brown beer bottles) lying along the way. There were plenty of attractive young men in town and the homes where there were girls were hospitable. A favorite song among the boys was:

 
“Let’s all go up to Maud’s
We’ll have a jubilee.
Make love to all her sisters, boys
But please leave Maud to me.”
 

They had the Lee home in mind where Mrs. Lee was even more popular than her four daughters.

Henry Young and his brother, John, about 1900, sold their ranch above Fort Bayard and came to Pinos Altos where they built a livery stable. Henry is remembered for his tall tales of his own achievements. However, he was a hard worker and the results of his efforts often justified his stories. He had the fastest horses, the best equipment, he raised the best vegetables and fruits. He introduced the Stark Delicious apple to this section and won several awards for them at state fairs.

Each mining company had its own engineers, foremen, and laborers and their families joined the men. The community regretted seeing friends depart and at the same time they welcomed the newcomers. Often the change brought an outstanding person—such was Mrs. Grace Griswold Adams. She was a teacher in the Milwaukee Schools who had bought stock in the Savannah Mining Company. For a summer vacation she decided to visit Silver City where she could see something of what her mining stock represented. She liked the country and the people so asked for and was granted a year’s leave of absence. She took a position in the smelter office but was persuaded by Mr. F. J. Davidson to leave it and teach in Pinos Altos. She married George H. Bisby of a pioneer Lone Mountain family and lived here, teaching part of the time, for 36 years. She was an interesting conversationalist, being a keen observer and well-read. Her hobbies were music and painting, she was always ready for a bridge or a croquet game, and her home was always “Open House.” A Christmas party at the Bisby’s was something to remember.

When the town was particularly prosperous a Fourth of July celebration would be held. It began with the band parading to the speaker’s stand, the singing of the National Anthem, a prayer, and a flowery, stirring oration. Then came some events for the young fry—climbing a greased pole or catching a greased pig, foot races and a burro race. The Ladies Aid and the Catholic Women helped feed the crowd at noon. Restaurants served special menus and many ate picnic lunches under the trees. In the afternoon there was a baseball game on the regular ball grounds by the “Gopher” where there was a grand stand for spectators. The drilling contest would take place nearby on the rocks east of the Gopher dump. Fireworks preceded the dances in the evening, rounding out a grand and glorious day. Often bets were taken on the hour and minute that rain would fall. Summer rains generally started on the Fourth. The procedure was patterned after the wagers made in Alaska as to the time the ice would go out. The one giving the nearest time won the jackpot. The burro race was unique. Each youngster entered his own burro but rode one belonging to someone else. The slowest burro won, so every rider forced his mount to the greatest speed possible.

After World War I many discharged men settled here, partly for reasons of health and partly because they liked the place. Harry Hickel, Bob Riddle and Jim Bonnelly were among them. They loved the out-of-doors and shared in community affairs so they were interesting families to have as neighbors.

The young people among the new arrivals had to be initiated. If the young man was a tenderfoot he was taken “snipe hunting” but girls were treated in a more original fashion. They would be invited for a horseback ride to see the mines. The hostesses would rent horses from the miners who habitually stopped at the saloons on the way home from work. As the returning party approached town it was seen to that the horses were on their usual trails. In front of the saloons the horses would come to a dead stop. No amount of coaxing, whipping, nor under-the-breath cursing would make them move for ten minutes, just long enough for the owners to have their usual drinks. Then the horses lifted their heads and trotted to the home corrals. This may not seem funny now, but it was hilarious when a “nice girl” would not even glance at a bar room door. There were no hard feelings—it was just part of the wild and woolly west.

Pinos Altos was not a lawless place as old mining camps were supposed to be. There was a stout jail, first on the main street and then moved to the “Mill Site.” Offenders were not confined long. In early days if the crime was a major one justice was swift, and if it was a petty offence one night locked up was sufficient to sober the inmate. Mr. H. E. Muse was marshal for a time and his presence was enough to make would-be law breakers watch their steps. Ex-President Theodore Roosevelt, speaking from the steps of the Eckles home in Silver City on July 11, 1913, referred to a murder committed by one of his “Rough Riders” in Pinos Altos. The man had written for help saying, “he had killed a lady but thought he was shooting his wife.”

Mr. and Mrs. Peter Wagner had not been in America long when they came West during the ’70’s. Another French family came later and the two couples became close friends. When a baby was born to the second couple and the mother died, the Wagners took the baby girl and loved her as their own. Mrs. Wagner had been a lace-maker in Belgium and everything she made for the baby was trimmed with exquisite hand made lace. The Wagners wanted to adopt the child but the father would not give his consent. When the little girl was three years old the father left and took his daughter with him. Mrs. Wagner grieved until she became ill and after that was always considered queer. She would talk to herself and to her dogs but not to people. Besides working a mine and mill, “Pete” had a barber shop next door to John Oglesby’s saloon. Bob Close was a character who was very proud of his goatee. One day when he came into town he visited the saloon where he imbibed freely then went to the barber shop for a hair cut and a trim. He fell asleep in the chair and Pete went on to other business leaving him there. Some rascal saw him, slipped in and cut off the goatee. When old Bob awoke, from habit, he started to stroke his goatee. It was not there, nor was the barber, so he went raging into the saloon threatening to pound the little Frenchman to a pulp. Mr. Oglesby laughed and Bob accused him of the dastardly act, he swore and fingered his face, fighting mad. It took six men to subdue him and to assure him that the injury was not permanent. Wagner had invested in Silver City real estate and after his death Mrs. Wagner would walk there often carrying her shoes in her market basket, and after doing her shopping and collecting the rents would walk back. Mrs. Oglesby, who sometimes drove the stage, was the only person she would ride with. Later Henry Geitz was appointed trustee. Once he and Mrs. Wagner made a trip to Europe together in an attempt to find relatives. Mrs. Wagner said the persons they found were too old and she insisted on returning. During World War I all trace was lost of the relatives of both Mr. and Mrs. Wagner. Once when the rent was being given her, Mrs. Wagner said that she did not want the money, that the can in the woodpile was full. Some time later she was beaten and robbed and died as a result.

Fights originated in saloons and dance halls more often than anywhere else. Arguments started that only fist fights or gun play would settle. Usually the participants would be thrown out before anything serious happened. One Christmas Day, Tom Gibson, having the fore-runner of the Boy Scouts’ good deed in mind, offered to tend bar while John Oglesby ate dinner with his family. The loafers thought they would have some fun with the “tenderfoot,” as they regarded Tom. John kept a gun beneath the bar and Joe Acosta went looking for it. Tom told him to keep away. That started the fuss. Tom thought he was going to need the gun but it was not in the usual place so he tackled the bunch and literally threw each one out including big Valentine Gutierrez. Tom was accepted as a right guy from that time. Some G.O.S. cowboys were on their way back to the ranch after driving a herd to the stock yards. They had been having a big time in Silver City and were still whooping it up when they arrived, dropped the bridle reins and entered a saloon. A newcomer was acting as constable that day, and carrying a shot gun. He went after the cowboys for disturbing the peace and escorted them to the jail. As he unlocked the door he was overpowered, the key and his gun taken and he was locked inside. The cowboys returned to the saloon and, leaving the key and gun, told Mr. Oglesby what they had done and cautioned him to keep the constable locked up over night. Old “Plunder,” another of the town’s characters, went to let the man out next morning and dubbed him “Shot-Gun Smith.” “Oh, but my name is Alexander Keys,” said the erstwhile constable with dignity—but “Shot-Gun Smith” was what he was called as long as he was in the vicinity.

Juvenile delinquency was never a great problem. Boys always threw rocks. If a house was vacated vandals took it over. It was “great fun” to tease Mrs. Wagner. It was rumored she always carried a butcher knife in her market basket. Joe Munoz was tormented just to hear him storm in fluent Italian. Joe had a small store with rooms to rent above it. When it burned two men died in the blaze and a Silver City paper reported “that 10,000 other lives were lost”. Bed bugs. It is recalled that just after the Waterburys and their associates had gone, leaving a caretaker at the property, some youngster at school suggested that, since the caretaker was out of town for the day, it was a good time to have a swimming party in the Mammoth tank. He had seen the Waterburys swim there and he knew the tank was full. Swimming togs were unknown but since it was a boy and girl group that got together after school they gathered up odds and ends that would serve as bathing suits for everyone but one small girl. Finally they put her into her father’s hunting coat saying it was just the thing because it was water proof. The little girl jumped in as the others did, the pockets filled with water, and she went to the bottom like a chunk of lead. Fortunately the big boys got her out. Then it was suggested that each one take a souvenir from the house. The girls selected pens from an assortment on a desk and the boys searched for things more to their liking. Imagine what happened when the youngsters reached home! It was return the articles at once—or else! Never was a mile so long as that trudged by the weary and frightened children as they went back to the Mammoth. Pilfering never interested that particular group again. Another gang barbequed Mrs. Wagner’s chickens. For a season or two the main diversion of warm moonlight evenings was for the young people to raid orchards one evening. The next day the girls would make fruit pies which were enjoyed with coffee and music around a bonfire. One evening a plump forest ranger from Alabama was with the group when they took some luscious peaches from the old “Stanley Place.” The ranger put them inside his white shirt when the group was startled and ran with them to the high board fence at the rear of the orchard. Over he went, then with Southern gallantry, turned to help a girl, but she hadn’t waited for help. She landed bang against his chest and the peaches. He did not go on any more raiding parties. It was not known until years later that a conscientious young engineer who roamed with the gang would go to the owner, whether Bisby, Watson, or Young, the next day after the forage and pay for the fruit.

Fire was always a hazard and in spite of a volunteer fire department with a hand pump, hose, ladders and buckets the town was seriously damaged on many occasions. The first big fire occurred in 1888 just as the day shift, coming from work, reached the main street. They dropped their lunch pails and formed bucket brigades to the nearest wells. The smoke was seen in Cornishtown and the “Cousin Jacks” came hurrying down. It was midnight before the fire was out. The saloon keepers, whose buildings had been saved, rolled out the barrels and told the wearied fighters to help themselves. They did so gratefully and sat around singing until dawn. Spanish, English, Italian and Cornish voices blended in everything from drinking songs to hymns, from Mexican folk songs to operatic arias. Years afterwards a man who had been there said it was the finest concert he ever heard. The second big fire took the hotels and several homes late in the ’90’s. Other fires were controlled and kept from spreading but as the years went by fewer of the houses were rebuilt. The hotels never were. Mr. and Mrs. Louis Legros (parents of Mrs. Alice Huff) had a rooming house, restaurant, and bakery and they took care of transients for years. Later there were other accommodations until a surfaced road and good cars made it more convenient for visitors to stay comfortably in Silver City and to drive up to conduct business, admire the scenery, and to chat with old friends.

Pinos Altos was really settled by veterans of the War between the States and veterans of other wars have had their places in the life of the camp. Three or four young men were Rough Riders serving with Teddy Roosevelt. A number of the boys were members of the National Guard and as such were called to go after Pancho Villa. The very day they were welcomed home the United States declared war on Germany and they went off again. Like innumerable towns throughout the world our town had few able-bodied men left during World War II. From our small community twenty-five were in service and seven made the supreme sacrifice.