Johnny, The Barber of Taos by Johnny Tafoya Johnny Tafoya Table of Contents

Intro - Johnny, The Barber of Taos Chapter 1 - Going to School Chapter 2 - My First Fish Chapter 3 - Canon School Chapter 4 - Sheephearding Chapter 5 - My Pal, Sam Chapter 6 - Mesa Larga Chapter 7 - Making Adobes and High School Chapter 8 - My First Car and The Fighter Chapter 9 - California Bound Chapter 10 - The Army Chapter 11 - Going Over Seas Chapter 12 - I Met Anita Chapter 13 - Civilian Life Chapter 14 - Heading To California Chapter 15 - Barber College Chapter 16 - Back To Taos Epilogue - October 23, 2008 From The Taos News, 10 year anniversary for Johnny’s Barber Shop A note about this book

In 2006, while visiting my brother and sister at military school in Roswell, New Mexico, my grandfather called me to his truck parked outside the hotel where we were all staying. He told me had something special for me and wanted my help. Naturally, I said yes, but I don’t think I was prepared for what he handed me. Papa handed me two standard notesbook, full of handwritten stories. I wasn’t sure what it was at first. The writing was in perfect cursive and I could tell some- one had taken a great deal of time writting it. I asked what it was and he explained to me that it was his life story. He had recently retired and I guess he had some free time on his hands! I was excited to have these books. I remember hearing a lot of these great stories from my Papa when the family would get together at dinners for the holi- days, but to be able to have his life story in one spot was such a blessing. Not to mention, my Papa had a 10th grade education, and here he had hand-written over two hundred pages of stories. I looked through them and asked what he wanted me to do. He aksed me if I would proof it and type it all out so they could read by everyone, and this is the work of over five years I was still in school at the time at Texas Tech and soon after that I started working. I would work on the book when I had free time. At first, I thought it would be simple to just re-type what was written. There was care put into each story, but it needed some work. I struggled to find the right voice, whether it should be written in past or present tense. I toyed with leaving all the little sayings and fragments that he wrote, or if it should be changed into a formal text. After countless edits, re-edits, sending copies back and forth for correctness, tracking down old photos and restoring them to add, I think the book is ready. Such an amazing story and just reading it reminds me that when I think life gets tough, it could be a lot tougher. Thank you Papa for giving me the opportunity to write this book. I hope you like what I have done and that everyone who reads this will appreciate your life and work.

- Mike Devlin Johnny Tafoya, age 8 Johnny, The Barber of Taos

I am writing this to my children and grandchildren, so they will know more about my life; so they will know what it was like growing up before indoor plumbing and the Internet. Sometimes I want to tell them all about my life, but kids don’t listen. They always tell me, “Those were the old days.”

Nowadays, kids have so many material things that they fail to realize what people went through in the early 1900’s just to survive: two world wars, the Great Depres- sion, unemployment, and poverty. Although it all sounds pretty bad, when I stop think about it, I have lived an exciting life.

I was born October 23, 1936 in Billings, Montana. My parents had three kids be- fore me, Leroy, then Evan, and then Rachel. Leroy had passed away when he was five months old. Rachel was only 1½ years old when my mother was pregnant with me.

My parents were originally from New Mexico, but there was no work there. Be- fore I was born, my father heard about plenty of farm work in Montana, so he and my mother, and my sister Rachel left to Montana. Evan was left with my mother’s parents at their ranch in Sofia, New Mexico. It was a big ranch with a lot of cattle. My father found work at a farm working from sunrise to sunset, seven days a week. Although he worked more than 80 hours a week, he still did not make much money. My mother stayed home with my sister, waiting for me to be born.

My father came home in the evening from work October 23, 1936 to find my mother already in labor. He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the back seat of his car and drove three miles to a midwife’s house. I was already born by the time he arrived and opened the car door. He picked up my mother and me and took us into the midwife’s house. He asked the lady, “Is it a boy or a girl?” The lady opened the blanket and responded, “It’s a boy!” Dad ran out to the car, grabbed Rachel, and told her she had a little brother.

There wasn’t much farming work in the winter, especially in Montana, so we re- turned to New Mexico in the middle of December. My mother was anxious to see my sister Evan and my father was excited to show everyone his new son. They called me “Montana” rightfully so.

My father bought an acre of land in Taos, New Mexico. There he built his own two-bedroom adobe house. By that time, I was 2 years old and had a little brother of my own, Arthur.

My father worked construction. There was not a lot of work to be done, but we were okay. We ended up moving to Colorado in 1938 because Taos had little work for us to do. There my father worked on a sugarcane farm. Soon after that my sister Irene was born. We stayed for two years, but before moving back to Taos, one more child was born, Gill.

We stayed in Taos for a year and a half then moved to Superior, Wyoming where my father went to work in the coalmines. There were already a few people from Taos that moved to Wyoming, all with kids of their own. We headed north in a four door Model-A, loaded with a couple of mattresses, extra tires, a few dishes, pans, six kids, and my father and mother. This was how people traveled and moved around during The Depression. To move a family of six nowadays would require a full-size trailer and two vehicles. Chapter 1 Going to School

I was enrolled in the 1st grade at B-Hill Elementary in Wyoming. The children didn’t know much English when we got to Wyoming. My mother would teach us when she had time, but she was always busy cooking, cleaning, and taking care of babies. My father had no time to help us with our English because he would come home tired from being in the coal mine all day, so we spoke only Spanish. The other families from Taos lived on the other side of Superior and their kids went to a different school.

The first day of school came and all the gringos called us names. My sisters, Evan and Rachel, took me to the 1st grade room and all the kids looked at me strangely. We would go out for recess and they would say, “Mexicans eat tortillas and beans.” Well, okay, we did, so I didn’t say anything. I would come home and tell my father what the gringos said and he would say, “Tell them we eat tortillas and beans, you eat slop.” They finally quit calling me names.

I was the only Spanish boy in 1st grade. There was one freckled-faced, red-hair boy who always picked on me. He would accuse me of carrying a machete under my coat, and I was only in the 1st grade! I was going home after school one day and walked down a pretty steep hill. We lived about a half-mile away from the school. I was at the top of the hill and there was the red haired freckled boy wait- ing for me.

I walked by and he pushed me. Well, I was pretty good at fighting because I fought with my brother Arthur all the time. He pushed me again, so, I started punching him. He fell on the ground and I got on top of him and punched him till he started crying. The ground was covered in snow so his face was full of snow and tears. The next day I had a few new friends and people didn’t call me names anymore. Half the year passed and a new little boy had come to school. A quiet Negro boy named Albert. The same thing happened to him as did to me; all the gringos called him names like, Little Black Samboo. I told him not to pay any attention to them because they did the same thing to me, and from that point on we sat next to each other and carried our lunches to school together everyday.

One of the best days in 1st grade was when we went to the gym and the P.E. teach- er told us we were going to box so we could learn to defend ourselves. He picked out Albert and I to demonstrate. I guess he picked us because we were both dark or because he had heard about the beating I gave the freckled-faced kid.

Albert and I put on the boxing gloves and went at it. I punched Albert square in the nose and his eyes got watery and blood started coming out of his nose. He didn’t cry, but the P.E. teacher stopped the fight. I looked at Albert and felt sorry. He came over to me and told me it was a good punch. All the gringos stopped picking on us once they could see we knew how to fight. Eventually, we all played together and I chased the girls.

But fighting and roughing around did have its drawbacks. My first class picture wasn’t the best one. My brother Arthur and I had got into a fight the night before. He picked up a Coca-Cola bottle and threw it, hitting me right between the eyes. The next day was our class picture and there I sat looking like a raccoon. Chapter 2 My First Fish

My father decided to leave Wyoming. He didn’t like the mines because they were too dangerous and very dirty. Once school got out, we packed up and left. An- other son, Louis Robert, was born while we were in Wyoming.

We stopped in Colorado on the way back to Taos. I can’t remember the name of the town we stopped in, but there was nice river Dad wanted to fish. He rented a cabin and we stayed for a couple of days. He got a fishing rod and took Arthur and I with him.

He cut us a willow and put a line and a hook on it and showed us how to hook our worm. He told me, “Stay right here on this bridge and catch some fish Jr. Take care of your brother.” Dad went further up the stream and left me sitting there. It wasn’t long before I felt a jerk on my line. I felt the jerk again, so I pulled it up hard, and there was my fish, about four inches big. I grabbed it and ran upstream to show my Dad. Arthur was running behind me screaming “I dropped my hat in the river.” I yelled back, “Forget the stupid hat, come on we have to show Dad the fish.”

We reached Dad and he saw the fish. “Atta boy, you got one. Good, put it here in the creel.” We tagged along while Dad got a bunch of fish. We walked back to the bridge to clean the fish. It was exciting to clean the fish.

We got back to the cabin and mom and the kids were setting up the beds for the night. Dad got out the big skillet and cooked some fresh fish. He told everyone about the fish I caught and how I jerked on my little pole. Mom said I was now a fisherman. Arthur was upset and said “That little fish you caught, it was a baby.” So, I reminded him about the hat he lost in the river. He didn’t say a word after that. The fish was great so we loaded the remaining fish in the car the following morn- ing. The smell was so bad it exceeded the smell of Louis’ dirty diapers. We headed back to Taos after being away for two years. The weeds were four feet high and the house was cold and empty.

We went outside to clean the weeds as soon as we got home. Evan and Rachel were busy throwing the little ones in the weeds. Mom would run out to make sure Louis okay, and there he would be without a diaper on, running around like a little monkey.

The next morning I was out to find work, but before I left, the neighbors came over to greet mom and ask how things were in Wyoming. They brought us some bread and other food to help us get started. That’s how thing were back in the days, ev- eryone helped everyone else any way they could. Chapter 3 Canon School

By the time we got settled in our home, mom was about to have another baby. One night Dad woke me up about 2:00 in the morning. He told me to go to my aunt’s house and tell them mom was due. I ran about half a mile and knocked on the door. Aunt Cristina looked at me and didn’t say a word. She went back into the house and grabbed a suitcase. “Lets go,” she said. We walked fast and she asked me, “You were the one born in the car?” I replied, yes. Once we got home, I was told to go back to bed.

In the morning we all woke up early to see what happened. Dad came into the kitchen while we were waiting for our oatmeal. Evan was cooking and Rachel was tending to Louis. All Dad could say was, “We have another mouth to feed.” It was a girl and they named her Margaret. Irene was less than happy; she was the one that had to wash the diapers.

Evan, Rachel, Arthur, and I were already enrolled in school. Arthur was in the first grade, I was in the second, Rachel the third, and Evan the fourth. I remember the kids in the fifth grade looking really old. If you didn’t pass the grade, you would have to repeat it until you could pass. Some of those kids had stayed in the same grade for three years.

Being that we came from Wyoming, we spoke only English. This upset the Span- ish kids and they all threatened us to speak Spanish. So little by little we were back to speaking Spanish. Then one day the teacher told all the kids, “No more speaking Spanish, only English.” Come to think of it, that’s probably why kids weren’t passing grades. They couldn’t speak English.

School violence was a lot different in those days and rough-housing was really rough-housing. The big kids were always getting the smaller kids to fight each other every evening after school. There would always find someone to fight each other; boys, girls, it didn’t matter. And the important thing to mention is that it was always one on one and with your fists. Never weapons.

We also played marbles. We played when we got to school or during our recess. One afternoon we returned to class and Mrs. Kirkcey was standing by the door waiting for us. She was mean; come to think of it, all the teachers back then were mean. As she stood there, she made all the kids put their hands out as they walked by. They were dirty, really dirty. So she lined us up and sent Eugene, who was teacher’s pet, to get a pale of water and soap. She scrubbed all of our hands till they were red and sore and told us she never wanted to see dirty hands again. Af- ter that, we all carried a rag in out pockets to wipe our hands on after we played marbles. It would have been considered abuse today, but back then it was called effective teaching.

One day I was late to school because I had to feed the pigs, chickens, and rabbits, and milk two goats. Arthur was sick with a tonsil infection and couldn’t help me. Usually he took care of the rabbits and pigs and I milked the goats and tended to the chickens. When I got to school the principal, Mrs. Freeberg, was standing by the door. “Go get me a stick from the willows by the ditch,” she told me. I ran down to the ditch and looked for a nice straight stick. I thought she needed it for a black board pointer. I was trying to be helpful so I got a real nice one and brought it to her. “Bend over,” she told me. Wham, wham, wham; right on my butt. “Don’t be late anymore.”

School was over in the middle of May. We stayed home during the summer and always had chores to do. Dad did a good job of keeping us busy. He told us it kept us out of trouble and taught us how to work. We planted a garden, chopped wood, cut weeds, and hauled water from the river for the animals. Sometimes we had to walk a mile away to get water.

The year was 1944 and Dad was drafted into the Army. I told mom he would do great because he could shoot good. “He’ll kill a lot of Japs,” I said, and of course I got smacked. Dad left and was gone for about four days and before coming home. I saw him walking up the road and asked what happened. He said they didn’t want him because he had kids to feed. Mom was really happy. What would she have done with all those kids by herself. There was no such thing as welfare or food stamps back then either and my father was the only one that provided income.

The middle of August came up and mom was expecting again. On August 17, I had to go out and get Aunt Christine again. Now we had another little brother named, Mike. Dad said it again, “Another mouth to feed,” and Irene knew there would be more diapers to wash.

On September 1st we went back in school. I was in the third grade that year, Evan in fifth, Rachel in fourth, and Arthur was in second. Irene started the first grade. It was hard for mom and Dad to send five kids to school. Gill, Louie, Margaret, and Mike were at home.

There were a lot of big families all around Canon. There was no such thing as birth control. Fathers were always saying, “If you have a daughter, I’ll match her with my son.” So we were all matched, but none of us kids actually went out.

The years passed on, summers working at home, fall and winter were filled with school. School was getting harder every year. The old principle, Mrs. Freeberg left and we got a new principle, Mr. Noeding, who also taught the sixth grade. He was a real big man with real big feet. His wife taught the third grade and was re- ally pretty.

My mother was expecting again and there I went again, 3:00 a.m. to get my Aunt Cristina. I went back to bed for a couple of hours, and had to get up again early to milk the goats, bring in wood, go for water. My sisters were tending to the smaller kids and Arthur was taking care of the animals. 10:00 came around and Dad came out. Another mouth to feed and more diapers to wash.

I was in the fourth grade that year. My teacher that year, Mrs. Dowling was a big lady, but very nice. We were learning drama, so we had to put on a play and I was the main actor. It was a big play and I had to do a lot of memorization. The play was called Mr. Booth, and I was Mr. Booth. The play was a hit opening night. The school was packed. The people were standing on the side of the room and in the hallway. The end of the year there was another play, a musical, and I was the main actor again. I was a pretty descent actor.

I was nine years old that summer and because I was the oldest son, I had much more to do. One evening Dad said he wanted to see Mr. Trujillo to borrow his work horses. We were going to plow the back of the field and make a garden. We went all the way to black lake to get the horses. It was about 25 miles away by road and I would have to ride the horses back. We drove out there early one morn- ing. The horses were out in the field. We went out and put the reigns on one. We walked them down a trail and I mounted one. My Dad told me to stay on the trail and always take the trail that went right. He told me I would come up to a fork in the road about five or six miles up the trail. He gave me a flower sack for my lunch and a canteen with water. I was on that horse for about 10 hours. The other horses just followed along. I went through the mountains for about 20 miles. I ate my food and drank my water while on top of the horse so I wouldn’t get off coarse. I don’t know many nine-year-olds today that could go down the street by themselves without something bad happening, but back then, 25 miles was okay.

Around 2:00 that afternoon I really had to use the restroom. To be honest, I had to take a crap. I saw some boulders up ahead, so I turned the horse towards them and stopped right next to the boulder. It was high enough so I could climb back onto the horse when I was done. I held the horse by the reigns and did my business. My butt was pretty sore. Not from doing my business, but from riding so long. I didn’t have a saddle either so I had to ride bareback. I remember the horse was so big and my little legs hung out like wings.

I finally got to Mr. Trujillo’s farm. I made real good timing. Just as I got there, my Dad came up in the Model-A. Gill and Louie were with him. I was still on top of the horse and everything was okay. Dad pulled me down off the horse.

I couldn’t walk, because I was sore as hell, so he carried me to the car. Gill asked if I rode the horse all the way and I told him I had. “I wish I could do that,” he told me. “Good,” I thought to myself. You can do it next time. We got home and mom was really happy to see us back so soon and safe. I was sore for about three days.

In the sixth grade, I decided I was going to play basketball. I was really short, but Mr. Noeding picked me to be on the team. He was a good coach and we were a pretty good team. There was some pretty big guys on the team, well, they were the biggest ones in school. We were finally ready to start playing other schools; Rancho, Arroyo Seco, Taos, Pilar, and Pueblo. Mr. Noeding gave us a talk one day about what we needed to get. We need a support cup, white socks, and black tennis shoes. Our uniforms were blue with white.

I went to town with mom. She told me to go in the store and buy what I needed while she went to get groceries. I went into a store called Federate. A lady came up and asked if I needed help. I told her I needed some shoes and socks and a sup- porter. She asked what size shoe and I told her 6. She asked what size of supporter I needed. I could only tell her I didn’t know. I never had one before. She looked me up and down and handed me one and said, “I guess this will do.” I paid her and picked up my bag and left.

The next day we played Taos Pueblo. I took out my new outfit, opened the box my supporter was in, and took it out. I had never seen anything like that before. I watched the other boys on the team to see what they did with their supporter. Man, they were some awful things, they were really uncomfortable. I didn’t wear it after trying it on.

The next year I went to school in Taos because the school in Canon only went up to the sixth grade. I was excited to go to school in Taos. I knew there would be a lot of pretty girls from all over coming to school there. I went early so I could see the pick. 7th grade, boy was it great. I hoped I could find work that summer so I could buy some nice clothes for that fall. Chapter 4 Sheephearding

I was eleven years old. Dad got a postcard from his Dad, my grandpa, Miguel Ta- foya. He told him he was doing fine and wanted me to go to the ranch that summer to help. I was told I was going to Tafoya. That was the name of the ranch where my grandpa lived. I left with a family named Fernandez to help my grandpa on the ranch.

My mom got a box and started packing it with whatever clothes I had. I figured I would work all summer and then I could buy some nice clothes with the money I earned. The Fernandez family stopped by to pick me up a few days after Dad re- ceived the postcard. We were about a days ride from the ranch. We left in an old truck that didn’t go very fast. They loaded me in the back with a few things they were taking with them. Boy, was it a long ride. We arrived late at the Fernandez’s ranch. It was very big and they had a very big house. Mr. Fernandez told me I would be spending the night there and my grandpa would pick me up the next morning.

My grandpa came to pick me up early the next morning. He stayed for breakfast. He and Mr. Fernandez talked about sheep, weather, and what ever else ranchers talk about. “Sonny, get your stuff,” he told me and we headed out.

We reached his ranch after being on the road for an hour. We got out of the truck and walked around the front and stood there for a moment. “You see those moun- tains over there?” he asked as he pointed. “If you decide to go home, that is what you’ll have to go through. There are over a hundred miles, full of bears and lions and wolfs, so if you think about it…”

He showed me a little room where I would sleep. The next day I was going to learn how to heard sheep. Early the next morning we headed out with nine hun- dred sheep. My grandpa had packed lunch and explained everything I would need to do. He told me one thing I must never do was fall asleep because there were lizards out there that would pull your eyes out and to always be alert for rattle- snakes. I didn’t think the lizards were real, but they were. They were long and green. Grandpa threw a rock at one and it came at us. They were mean if you teased them.

That afternoon, after we had our lunch, we moved the sheep to a lake for some wa- ter. We were walking along the water and we spotted a rattle snake. Grandpa told me to stay back. “I’ll show you how to take care of this devil,” he said. The rattle coiled up. My grandpa had his cane with him. He teased the rattlesnake with the end of the cane then whacked it right on the head. He picked it up with the cane, tossed it on a dry cactus, and lit it on fire. “That’s how you have to handle them.” So from then on, I carried a long stick with me, and to this day when I go walking in the mountains, I carry one with me.

It was my first day alone with the sheep. I was told to take them to the water at noon. The way you could tell it was noon was when your shadow was right under your feet. Well, the shadow was close enough, so I took them to the water and headed for the house to go eat. My grandpa pulled me in the house and pulled out his watch. “It eleven o’ clock. Get back out there and learn how to read your shadow,” he told me.

I headed back to the lake, and boy was that hour long. I thought he should have let me have the watch. I saw the shadow moving west so I knew it was twelve. I went home and ate. I went back out and was told not to drive the sheep home until the sun went down. That was a long day. All I could think about was what I would buy with all the money I was going to make that summer.

By the middle of the summer, I was becoming a pretty good sheepherder. It was hard work. You didn’t move around much when the sheep were out in the valley and lambs were being born. Then in the evenings, on they way home, you have to carry the new lambs under your arms and hope the mama sheep followed.

The new lambs were about six weeks old and we were going to castrate the males and cut off all the lamb tails. It was a mess. The lambs were bleeding everywhere and the males were walking really stiff. Mama sheep were crying like hell looking for their babies. A few days later, all was well and the sheep were jumping all over the rocks. Then came the shearing. Grandpa got everything ready and about six or seven men showed up with little suit cases full of shearing tools. We got the sheep in the coral and got busy. My job was to pick up the wool that didn’t get bundled up, and then get on top of the sacks and squash the wool so it would be good and tight. The shearing lasted about three or four days. We had to make good meals for the work- ers. Finally it was all over and we had big sacks of wool. The price was going to be good because the government would buy it to make the soldier’s uniforms out of it.

I was back out all day with the sheep again after the shearing was over. One eve- ning I was turning the flock back home when I saw these three little pretty things running towards some rocks. Grandpa was on his way to meet me. I was running after the little critters. I didn’t know what they were, but thought they were little kittens. He yelled at me to leave them alone, but I thought he was saying “get them, get them.” Well, a bigger “kitten” came right at me then I was hit with the most awful smell. Turns out it was not a kitten; it was a skunk and I got it pretty good. We went home and fortunately it was raining. I stood under the gutter to rinse the smell off.

I was under the gutter when grandpa came out and told me to take off my clothes, put them in a barrel, and get in the tub. The smell stayed with me for a few days but now I know what a skunk is.

One day I was moving the sheep up a mesa and crossing some tall grass. All of sudden Brown, my sheep dog, pushed me over. We became really good friends after being in the field every day. There was a rattler coiled up and ready to strike me. Brown ran circles around it while the rattle was rattling a full speed, meaner then all hell. I got my cane and teased it a bit and whacked it right on the head. I threw it on a dry cactus and lit it on fire. I patted Brown and hugged him and he was really happy. That evening when I got home I told grandpa I killed a rattler, a really big one. I may have exaggerated a little, but not much.

We ate some supper and grandpa read some old magazines. I had some comic books that I read, over and over again. Grandpa said the next day he was going out for “provisions.” That’s what he called groceries. “I’ll be gone for a few days. Put the sheep in the corral but don’t close the gate.” Morning came and grandpa took off and I started to move the sheep to the mesa. By noon, I got the sheep to the lake for water and headed home for lunch. I looked around for something to eat. I didn’t know what to make, so I made some brown gravy and some warmed up tortillas. I ate then fed Brown some leftover cornmeal with bacon.

I got home late in the evening and the sheep went into the corral and laid down. I went into the house and it was really quiet. I ate some left over gravy and read my comics. I got up early and the sheep were already starting to move. I warmed up some more gravy and fed Brown and myself before heading out. I came back for lunch and warmed up a new skillet of brown gravy. I ate gravy and tortillas for three days straight.

Grandpa arrived late in the afternoon on the third day. The first thing he asked me was if I lost any lambs. I told him, no. He asked if I ate okay. I told him I had, so he looked in the pantry. “Why didn’t you eat some canned food?” I didn’t say anything. “What did you eat?”

“I ate gravy.”

“For three days?” He paused and starred at me. “Well, you’re alive.” he laughed. “Here, I bought you some candy.”

I continued taking care of sheep while Grandpa worked on fixing his old truck. He called it “La Channa”. “Sonny, I’m going to Kiowa. There is a little general store and post office. I’m going to check the mail.” It would take him two hours or more if he found other ranchers to talk to. He left and I went back to work.

I saw a cloud of dust coming up the road from a truck that wasn’t grandpa’s. The truck drove right up to the sheep and me. First thing that came to mind was some- thing happened to grandpa. The man got out and asked for Miguel, my grandpa.

“He went to Kiowa for mail.”

“Will you tell him the man for spraying was here? We’re asking 5 cents an ear and 10 cents a head.” I kept thinking to myself, “that’s going to cost 20 cents to spray just the head. What will it cost to spray the rest of the sheep?” I got home with the sheep later that day and grandpa was cooking supper. “Well sonny, how’s the lambs looking?”

“Good.”

“You’re a good sheep herder.”

“Oh grandpa, Mr. Jones came by. He is the one that will spray the sheep for ticks.”

“Oh yeah. What did he say?”

I looked up at a grandpa. “It’s gonna cost plenty. He said 5 cents an ear and 10 cents a head. That’s 20 cents just for the head. What’s it gonna cost you for the rest of the sheep?” Grandpa looked at me and started laughing so hard he was on the floor.

“Sonny,” he tells me, “a sheep is called an ear and a cow is called a head.” I learned something that would stay with me for the rest of my life.

A few days later the trucks came to spray the sheep and lambs. One man asked if I was the sheepherder. I told him yes. “Maybe we should spray you too then.” He laughed.

One morning, grandpa got up really early when it was still dark. “I’ll be back around noon,” he said. “Make yourself breakfast and feed Brown.” I came back for lunch, right at twelve o’ clock. By now I could tell time really good by the shadows under my feet. Grandpa returned with two horses. I asked what they were for and he told me it was to plow the fields to plant a garden.

We started to plow early the next morning and planned on finishing late that eve- ning. We had a good breakfast and grandpa went to hitch up the horses. Grandpa put me on top of one of the horses and we started plowing. Around noon grandpa said he was going to let me finish the last couple of turns.

I got a hold of the plow and put the reigns around my neck. Grandpa had left to another ranch to get a scrapper. “Giddy up, giddy up!” I told the horses. The horses started moving and I could barely hold the plow. I pulled on the horse too hard and it turned around in the opposite direction. The plow was right under him and I started yelling, “Whoa, whoa.” The more I tried to stop him, the worse the situation got. Grandpa came out right away and asked what happened. “It’s this stupid horse.” He laughed and straightened out the horse and finished plowing.

The next day Grandpa retuned the horses and we began to plant. We planted corn, beans, sweat peas, and lima beans. I got back to the sheep and grandpa was work- ing on his truck. He finally got it working and drove it around the ranch to show me. “Get on!” We drove up the road about a mile. He stopped the truck. “Okay, you drive now.” He gave me a few quick lessons. At first it was jerking, then I finally got it going really good. I got to drive it up the road for a good while.

He made a few more adjustments to the truck to get it in perfect form. A week later he told me to drive west of the ranch to a water hole. It was dry, but I was supposed to get dirt for the roof of the garage.

The next day I headed out to get dirt. It felt good to be driving the old la Channa. I got to the water hole and started shoveling dirt into the box of the truck. Then came along two sheepherders. They were my cousins, Tito and Amarante Tafoya. “Miguel got the old truck running again, huh.” They helped me finish loading up the back of the truck. Again, that’s how your family neighbors were, they would help you with anything, anytime.

I drove back and grandpa and I started unloading the dirt and putting it on the roof. I would fill the bucket and he would pull it up on a rope. We needed about four more loads to finish the job. I didn’t mind, in fact I enjoyed driving the old truck. The next day I drove out to the water hole and Tito and Amarante came down to help. We talked for a while. “C’mon, lets go to the top of the hill so grandpa can’t see us talking,” I said.

After a while we drove back down and shoveled really hard to load the dirt. We talked longer than expected and I didn’t want grandpa thinking the truck broke down or anything. After a few good loads we finally finished the roof. That was my first driving job, and I really liked it.

Grandpa’s friend Antonio came to visit and stayed for a few days to help put up a new fence. He was also good to have around to help tend the sheep when both grandpa and I had to be gone. Antonio tended to the sheep while grandpa and I were gone. Man, tending sheep was a lot easier than putting up fences. We got to town and believe me, it was a small town. Grandpa pulled in front of the store to buy some grain.

“Here you go, go inside and buy yourself a soda pop. I’m going to go get some medicine.” But medicine wasn’t found in a pharmacy, it was found in a bar. Yep, he went to get some medicine alright. I went into the drugstore and bought my- self some ice cream while grandpa was curing his illness. He had only given me twenty-five cents. Back then that was a lot though. The ice cream only cost me a nickel. I went outside and saw a rock wall and decided it was a nice place to sit.

Two boys started coming up the street. I just sat there, minding my business and enjoying my ice cream. The two boys came up to me and the bigger one asked, “Where you from?”

“Taos, New Mexico,” I told him.

The bigger one looked to the smaller one. “He’s from Taos, New Mexico.” He then looked back to me. “This is Springer, New Mexico.”

“I know,” I replied.

“Give me that ice cream!”

“You go get your own ice cream,” I said. He stood there for a second and then hit the ice cream out of my hand. I did the only logical thing at that point. I grabbed him by the collar and punched him in the face a few times. He backed off and started running away. His friend, the smaller one, had already taken off while I was punching the bigger one.

I went back inside the store and bought another ice cream and a soda pop. I still had a dime left, so I bought a comic book too. The other ones had already been read so many times, I needed a new one. I went back out to the rock wall where I was and ate my ice cream. Grandpa came out and saw the ice cream on the floor. “What happened, you dropped you ice cream and had to buy another one.” I re- plied no and told him about the boy and what I did. “Good. Tafoya no naja,” he told me, which means, “Tafoyas are not afraid”. “Let’s go,” he said. He had a bottle of whiskey in his hand. “I’ll have to give Antonio a drink,” he laughed. “So tell me about the boy you hit. Did you give him a bloody nose or a fat lip?”

“I just punched him in the face,” I said.

“Your Dad was always fighting. He was pretty good too. He didn’t take shit from nobody.”

August came quickly and I would be going home soon. School started on the first of September. One evening, grandpa told me he was sending me home with the Trujillo’s. A little blue truck came one day to pick me up. The Trujillo’s and grandpa talked for a while I got my stuff.

“This is my grandson,” he said. “You get him home okay, he’s Juan’s boy.” He told me goodbye and gave me two dollars. I sat on the back of the truck and we headed out. I could only sit there and look at the two dollars thinking, “I wont be able to buy those nice clothes I wanted. Shit.”

Mr. Trujillo drove really slowly. We got home really late, close to midnight. We stopped at a little place called, Four Corners. It was a little store with a gas station. I got off the truck and went inside and looked around. A lady came up and asked if she could help me. I looked at the candy and the bubble gum.

“I want some bubble gum,” I said. “How many can I buy?”

”As many as you want,” she replied. I took out my two dollars and handed it to her.

“I’ll take two dollars worth.”

She looked at me funny for a minute. “Two dollars? Your teeth will rot out.”

The gum wasn’t for me though. Before I went to stay with grandpa, we could only buy one piece of gum at the store by our house because of the war. So I figured I would sell the gum for double and make myself four dollars. Well, when we got home all the kids could buy all the bubble gum they wanted. So there I was with a bag full of bubble gum. I ended up giving most of the bubble gum away and didn’t make much of a profit. Sheephearding Chapter 5 My Pal, Sam

I started 7th grade. The new school was really close, only one and half miles to the school from our bus stop. I waited for the bus every morning. All the kids were dressed up really nice. The kids were all the way from the 7th grade to the 12th grade. The older kids didn’t pay too much attention to the younger ones. Instead they just talked about going on dates and what not. Some already had cars and would drive to school.

It was about the middle of September when Sam and I, along with some other kids were playing in the ditch by the bus stop. Sam saw a little water snake in the ditch.

“Look,” he told me as he pointed into the ditch. He grinned at me and said, “We’re gonna have some fun.” I didn’t know what he meant, but he caught that water snake and put it in his pocket. It measured about 8 inches long. The bus came by and picked us up. Our little group, Sam, Joe, and I walk to the back and take our seats.

About half way to school and Sam pulled out the snake. I then knew what he meant when he said we would have some fun. Sam threw the snake to the middle of the bus where a large group of girls sat. The snake fell on Rosabella’s shoul- der and went down her shirt; she was a really busty girl too. She jumped up and started screaming bloody murder as the rest of the girls screamed and jumped from seat to seat.

Rosabella started tearing her blouse off to get the snake out. “Get out, get out.” She scrammed over and over. Naturally, Sam yelled from the back, “Take it off, take it off.” Mr. Malacios Martinez, our bus driver, stopped the bus. “What the hell is going on?” he yelled. The snake laid on the floor while all the girls stood on their seats and screamed. Mr. Martinez opened the door and kicked the harmless snake out.

He looked to the back of the bus where we sat, real cool and natural like. Some little kiss-ass boy told Mr. Martinez we were the ones responsible for all the com- motion. All Sam, Jose, and myself could do was sit there like nothing happened.

“You three,” Mr. Martinez said as he pointed directly at us. “Get off my bus!”

From then on we walked everyday to school and back. I had to get up even earlier every morning to do my chores, feed the pigs, milk the goats, and help Arthur feed the chickens and bring in the wood. Then I would head on my way to school.

One evening Sam came by the house to tell me about a plan he had. By that time, Jose stopped hanging around with us because he was mad he had to walk to school. He would always walk a few steps ahead of us. Sam would pick up rocks and throw them at him along the way, while calling him, “Cool Aid.”

That next morning, Sam took me to a pile of rocks and told me, “When the front wheels of the bus line up even with the rocks, you whistle, O.K. Then get in that ditch over there and stay down and hide.”

He climbed up a tree that had a sturdy branch sticking over the road. I wasn’t sure what he was up to, but I was pretty sure it was a bad idea. I kept thinking he was going to jump onto the top of the bus like one of those cowboys who would jump on top of a train in an old western movie.

The bus started to come. It was moving slow because it had just stopped to pick up some kids down the road. The front tires got even with the rocks, so I let out a whistle. I expected to see Sam jumping down, but instead I saw something brown like water falling down from the tree branch. SPLASH! It landed all over the front windshield.

Sam came falling down the tree holding up his pants. “Stay down,” he yelled. Instead, I started running like a bat out of hell down the ditch. Sam finally caught up to me and pulled me down just as the bus stopped ahead. The doors flew open and Mr. Martinez got off the bus and looked around. Finally he got back on the bus in order to keep his schedule. I turned to Sam and asked, “What did you do?”

Sam smiled. “I shit on the bus!” He laughed and laughed. He laughed so hard, he could barely make out the rest of his words. “I took laxatives this morning just for this. How did you like that timing?”

Later we caught up to Jose while walking to school. “Hey, Jose, come here,” Sam yelled, but Jose kept on walking. “Oh the hell with you. Maybe I’ll shit on you too.” Jose learned a lesson and lived with it, but Sam was always thinking of ways to get even with the bus.

We walked to school everyday until November. It snowed really hard that year and by the time we made it to school, we looked like snowmen. One day Mr. Martinez drove by and must have felt really sorry for us because he stopped and opened the doors. “Get over here Mavericks,” he said. “Get in.”

He told some kids to move to the back of the bus so could keep an eye on the two “Mavericks.” Sam couldn’t help himself and turned around to Rosabella and blew her a kiss. Right away Mr. Martinez told him to look straight ahead.

We got off the bus and Sam grabbed me. “Hey,” he tells me. “Lets do that thing again tomorrow, but this time you sit on the tree.” Sam must have been kind of retarded.

“Hell no.” I told him. We were lucky to be riding the bus again instead of walk- ing.

Later that year I joined the basketball team, so I only saw Sam in the mornings. Sam decided not to go out for the team because he would have rather chased girls.

I made the team my 7th grade year. I wasn’t the best player on the team, but I could hold my own. I started hanging out with O.V. Lucero. He was a really good player. We knew each other from grade school, but never hung out because I had chores do. He was the baby of his family, so he never had to do many chores.

Mr. Jaramillo, the coach, worked us pretty hard. Other schools called us the Taos Midgets because none of us were tall. We were all just short Mexicans. I didn’t play much. Only when we were really ahead.

One day Mr. Jaramillo came up to me and, “Johnny, how would you like to be the team manager?” I thought it would be cool to be the manager. I never knew that meant being in charge of chasing balls, giving other players towels and water, and then chasing more balls. The other players stopped hanging out with me because I was just a gofer. You know, “Go for this, go for that.”

One day I was running a little late to practice. Then I thought, “Hell, I’m just go- fer. Piss on them, they can chase their own balls.” Mr. Jaramillo called me and asked if I still wanted to be the manager. I decided that I wasn’t anybodies gofer anymore. Besides, I enjoyed walking home with Sam more. My Mom and Dad Chapter 6 Mesa Larga

One day Dad got a post card from his sister, Lucilla. She finally married to a gen- tleman named Filimore Martinez. Together the two of them lived in Mesa Larga, somewhere close to Raton. They had just got some sheep and cattle and needed some help in the summer.

I knew I would be going that summer to help my Aunt and Uncle. They had no children of their own yet. I guess my Grandpa had told them I was a good sheep- herder. I would get paid $40 a month. “Not bad,” I thought. I figured I would stay up there for three months and walk away with $120.

Summer rolled along and Dad sent me up there with a man named Arturo Gonza- les. He had a big coal truck and would make a trip to Raton in the summer to pick up coal. He would drop me off in Raton where my Aunt and Uncle could pick me up. We then traveled twenty-five miles from Raton to Mesa Larga.

My uncle showed me the boundaries of the land and where he took the sheep for water. It would be just like at Grandpa’s, only a lot bigger with a few more rocks.

The man that worked for them, Don Benito, would be leaving soon to TrieDad, Colorado. He planned on staying there for about a month or more. It would really depended on how long it took him to spend all of his money drinking.

That summer was rainy. I had to carry a raincoat everyday, which was difficult be- cause I already had to carry a cane and my lunch. I couldn’t come home for lunch because the land was too spread out.

My uncle told me that if I saw dark clouds and heard thunder to take the sheep to a cliff and hide under a boulder with Poppyito, the dog. Well, it rained everyday. Eventually it became a good thing though because it kept the grass growing so we wouldn’t always have to travel as far.

I would do my job and protect the sheep. By late in the summer I had already killed about ten rattle snakes. There were a lot more here because of all the rocks. Pop- pyito was a good sheep dog. Uncle Filimore had trained him well. I would sit and watch the sheep all day. Sometimes there was nothing to do, so I would build rock houses.

One afternoon I saw a dark cloud and I heard a roaring sound. I told the dog to get the sheep and push them to the cliffs. All of sudden, hail, the size of golf balls, started to storm down on us. I climbed into a cave. The golf balls grew to rocks. The ground was covered with so much hail that it looked like it had snowed.

The storm passed and I climbed out of my cave. I looked around to see sheep; some of them were bleeding on their backs from the hail. It didn’t kill them, but they sure did look sad.

My uncle came driving up in his red Dodge. I walked up to the truck and told him about some of the bleeding sheep. He looked at them and reassured me the dam- age wasn’t too bad. I felt bad, but he told me I did a good job of getting them to the cliff. I was told to take them home, and then he took off in his truck.

Some time later, Don Benito sent my Uncle a card asking him to pick him up in Raton. TrieDad, Colorado was only about ten miles from Raton. Don returned home. The house he lived in was only about half a mile from the main house.

He spent his first days back fixing the spring so we could get water to the house. This way we could plant a really good garden. That was one nice thing about be- ing there. I didn’t have to do any cooking. My aunt and uncle did it all and it was really good too. My Aunt was always making cookies and packing me really good lunches. She would even pack really good lunches for Poppyito too.

One day I was sheep herding at “El Rincon” and I jumped from one rock to an- other, but I slipped and cut my leg real bad. I could see the bone. I tore my shirt and wrapped it up and limped home to my Uncle Filimon’s house. I showed it to my Aunt Lucilla. “Geez, that’s real bad. You can see the bone.” She came back with a bottle of turpentine, cleaned it and wrapped it up. It healed in a couple of days and they found someone else to watch the sheep for a while.

The second year I went sheepherding with my Uncle Filimon, he brought a guitar and wanted me to learn how to play. I tried but I couldn’t hit a note, and boy did he get mad. He grabbed the guitar and told me I would never be a musician, and he was right, I never did.

Aunt Lucilla also made me bathe three times a week and brush my teeth with backing soda and salt. It tasted real bad. When I got back home to Taos, I still used backing soda and salt until I saw a bottle of Colgate toothpaste for 15 cents. I bought it and it was so much better. I had to hide it from my family so they wouldn’t use it all. I would sell bottles of coke or beer and use that money to buy my toothpaste. To this day, I have all my teeth and I am in good shape.

My uncle told me to take the sheep up the mesa one day through “El Puerto”, which means Rock Pass. I needed to get them up to the top and let them spread out. I saw two hawks flying round and round the edge of the cliff. I looked down and saw there was a nest. A little baby hawk sat in the nest. The hawks started at- tacking me. I moved away, quickly. I got disoriented and near the cliff, and I was afraid they were going to knock me off.

I told my Aunt about the hawks. She warned me to stay away because they would land on my head and try to poke my eyes out. I would still look up at the mesa sometimes and see the hawks flying free over the land.

Finally the time came for me to go back to Taos. Dad had written my uncle and aunt and told them he was coming to pick me up. I saw the Model A coming up the road and Dad had Gill and Louie with him. Standing on the running board was the dog Rex, a cocker spaniel Dad raised with the goats. When he got the dog, the dog still had his eyes shut. He would suck on the goats just like all the other baby goats. He was a really smart dog.

Dad looked at me and told me I looked really good. I told him I was ready to go home. Without wasting a minute, Gill and Louie began asking me a million ques- tions. “How many rattlers did you kill?”, “Did they bite you?”, “Did you see any spaceships?” I answered their question with, “Well, I’m still alive, aren’t I.”

We stayed the night and then left early the next morning. My Aunt gave me $20. I looked up at her and told her I thought I would be getting $40 and month. She told me they were a little short and would pay me the rest later.

“Shit,” I thought to myself. “There goes my school clothes, again.” I was really quiet on the way home and a little disappointed. My Dad said they might give me a couple of lambs instead. Well, to this day I still haven’t got any money, or lambs.

I used the money I had and bought a few new things for school. I started 8th grade. I liked all my teachers and I still hung around with Sam, and Sam was still doing crazy things. One Saturday, I was de-weeding the garden when all of a sudden Sam came up asking me to go fishing with him.

“I can’t,” I told him.

“Oh come on. I’ll help you when we get back.” That sounded like a pretty good idea so I went with him. We walked to the river which was about five miles away, up the canyon. We had a good day fishing. The limit was twenty one fish and we went just a little bit over the limit.

We got back to the house. Sam told me he was going to go home and clean the fish and be right back to help in the garden. Well, as you could guess, he never did come back. I got to work as fast as I could. I heard Dad’s car coming and I knew I was going to get it. Lately he had gotten kind of mean. Maybe it was because he had so many mouths to feed.

He came outside where I moved the hoe as fast as I could. “That’s a nice bunch of fish you got there. Where did you go?”

“Up past the 4th camping ground.” He grabbed the hoe I set aside for Sam to use and helped me finish till it got dark outside. All the kids were watching, waiting for me to get a whipping for not having my chores done before I went fishing. We got up to the house where mom had already fried a whole bunch of fish. Dad told me to get up early in the morning, finish the garden, and then go back to the fishing hole. I was told to go in the evening too, after school.

The next morning I woke up when it was still dark. I had done about four or five rows. Dad yelled for me to come in for breakfast and told me, “You sure can work when you want to go fishing.”

Well I didn’t invite Sam because he let me down before. I invited Juanito Sam- tistevan, a kid a little younger than I, but he was okay. We dug up a can of worms and headed up the canyon. A nice car drove by and I stuck out my thumb. The car stopped. It was a shiny convertible with two pretty ladies inside.

“Get in. Where are you going?” they asked.

“We’re going fishing,” I said.

“Well, where’s your fishing pole?”

“We cut a willow and attach our own string and hooks. We have our worms right here in this bag.” I held up a large water bag, like the ones people used during the depression.

We told them where to stop and we got out. Juanito never said a word the whole time. We stayed and fished the whole day, and of course caught a whole bunch of fish. I had to help Juanito out a little bit and give him the good holes so he could catch a few too.

The next day I saw Sam while we were waiting for the bus. He was really mad that I didn’t invite him to go fishing with me. “Why didn’t you invite me?” he asked.

“Well,” I told him, “you didn’t come to help me with the garden, like you prom- ised.”

“Then fine, I won’t go anywhere with you anymore,” he told me. I nodded okay and went on my way. Soon enough, Sam came running back with another idea. He didn’t like to not have friends, but sometimes it was hard to be his friend because he was so greedy. He would have a huge bag of peanuts and if you asked him to share, he would only give you a handful while he ate the whole bag right there.

You always had to watch Sam because he was up to no good. The next day we were at “El Tanke”. He had to go to the back and do his chores like cutting the weeds. Shortly after Sam “finished”, he came running out. “Shit,” he said. “Look, look. I think I saw a snake and look, I just shit a Baby Ruth.” He held up a “baby ruth”, but after looking at it, it was nothing but some shit with all the peanuts from the day before.

We finished 8th grade and the summer meant more work. Mom was pregnant again and now the total count was up to 10. Dad was always mad and so mean, but he kept putting food on the table and kept us all busy with chores.

Uncle Filimore and Aunt Lucille came by one weekend. I was thinking they were coming by to pay me, but nope; no money. They told my Dad that they needed my help again that summer to build a house. My Dad figured it would be one less mouth to feed. “By the way, take Gill with you too,” he told them. They promised they would pay me $20.00 a month and Gill $10.00 since I was five years older than him. Regardless of how I felt, I was going. I had no say and off we went to work for the summer.

One day my Uncle and Aunt had to go to Raton for some material for the house and Benito, another helper, needed a couple of days off. It was just Gill and I at the ranch. Gill’s job was to tend to the chickens and oh boy, were there a lot of chickens. I decided to build chicken houses out of rock. We worked all day on the rock chicken houses. It was around 3 o’clock and it started to get real cloudy. I knew hard rain would be coming down soon and that we needed to get the sheep close to the house. Half way out there it started to pour.

We were able to get the sheep over the last hill of the house, but by that time the rainwater started to cause the arroyos to flood like crazy, separating us from the house. The water started to rise like a rapid lake and Gill began to cry. “The chickens, they’re gonna drown.”

“Take my hand, we’ll make it across.” Gill grabbed my wrist and we started to push across the roaring channel. The wa- ter was up to my waist. The current was strong and it started to take Gill. I pulled, refusing to let him go, and we eventually made it across. We ran up to the house to look for drowned chickens. There they were, all of the animals, the sheep and chickens safe in the barn. I told Gill he could have died for those stupid chick- ens.

The summer was over and I got home and quickly told my mom and Dad that all I got paid was $20.00, although I was supposed to get $60.00. I told my aunt and she replied that the house cost more than expected. I couldn’t buy clothes for school with a lousy $20 and decided I wouldn’t be a shepherd anymore, for nobody. My Dad agreed with me and told me that next summer I would learn to build adobes and make more money.

I also came home to find out mom had a baby boy and named him Phillip. Irene had graduated from diaper washing and that became Margaret’s job. Despite the girl’s diaper washing, they still found time to date. The girls would sneak out and talk to the local boys and get home only to get lectured by Dad. I still spent my time working though.

My Dad got a job in Eagle Nest that summer, which is about 30 miles away from Taos, and there a new school with a gym was being built. My Dad got me a job with the contractor from Clayton, New Mexico, named Dan Garcia. He paid me 75 cents an hour, but there wasn’t that much work to do so I only worked a couple days out of the week.

I decided to use my days off to fish and sell worms. I dug up whole tubs worth of worms and headed down to the lake in Eagle Nest early in the morning with two buckets full of worms. I took a stick, a hook, and some fishing line. I would get there and catch huge fish and wait till travelers and even the locals asked what I used for bait to catch such good fish. I would tell them about my worms and sell them for 25 cents a dozen. One day I got real lucky and caught a couple of fish about 27 inches long. I was able to sell all of my worms.

On the way home a man at the gas station saw me carrying back my fish. “Hey, nice fish,” he yelled. “Are they for sell?” I looked at him and didn’t say anything. “I’ll give you $5.00 a piece.” All I could say was okay with a smile. Not a bad day.

I got home and Dad and Melton, his labor, were eating supper. My Dad asked how I did that day at the lake. I poured out all the money from my pockets onto the table and told him about selling the fish and worms. Milton looked at and said, “He’s making more money selling worms and fish. Maybe I should go sell some worms!”

“Not from my tub,” I said and we all laughed. My Dad bet me that it was a Texan who bought the fish and would go back to Texas and brag about the 27-inch fish he caught. No wonder he wanted that fish. I only worked for about 2 more weeks at the school and sold out of the worms, so I headed back home never to return to Eagle Nest for work. I spent the rest of the summer building adobes.

We always got a kill on a hunt Chapter 7 Making Adobes and High School

I started the 9th grade the next year and school was getting harder and harder. My friends and I were more interested in girls than school, which made school that much more difficult. Sometimes the girls from St. Francis would come visit us boys in Taos. St. Francis was an all-girls school in Ranchos, New Mexico, but it only went up through the 8th grade.

I would hang out with my friend O.V., a nice fellow who always wore nice clothes, had money, and didn’t care much for basketball. We would always eat in town in- stead of the lunchroom, even though meals only cost 15 cents. We were too macho for the lunchroom. Each morning, mom would give all the kids, Evan, Rachel, Arthur, and myself 15 cents for lunch. Sixty cents a day was a lot. We probably could have made our own lunches, but we were too rushed to catch the school bus in the morning. We had to feed the chickens and pigs, milk the goats, go for fresh water, and fill the wood box. Evan and Rachel helped with the little ones that went to school and spent a little more time on themselves since they were in high school now.

O.V. would get himself a cup of chili or a basket of fries and a hamburger. I only had 15 cents, so I would usually eat a bag of Fritos and a coke. Sometimes a whole bunch of us guys would get together, pitch in our money and buy a loaf of bread, cheese, and baloney and eat at the park.

One day, my Dad told me I was going to start cutting my brother’s hair because he didn’t have the time or the money to send all of us to the barber shop. He bought me my first set of hand clippers, a comb, and a razor. Dad gave me my first les- sons and taught me what he learned from cutting our hair with nothing more than a comb and scissors. Dad told Arthur that he was going to use him to teach me. Arthur sat up on an old high chair and Dad told me to watch him operate the hand clippers. “Don’t stop half way through the hair other wise you’ll just pull the hair out. Smooth cuts all the way to the top,” he said. “Gill, you’re next. Sit up here.” Gill kept moving around a lot, even after Dad told him to stay still. He kept moving so much that Dad just hit him upside the head with the clippers and down fell Gill onto the floor. Dad just bent down and finished the haircut while Gill lay lifeless on the floor. Af- ter witnessing that, us kids never moved when getting a haircut ever again. It’s a trick I learned to do with my own kids and grandsons and it only takes once.

So, I became the barber and continued to get lessons from Lloyd, the barber who cut my Dad’s hair. I would go to the barbershop every two weeks with O.V. when he would get haircut and watch how the barber worked, and then I would go give someone else a haircut.

Whenever none of my brothers ever needed a haircut, I would call the neighbor’s kids to get some practice. “Hey, let me give you a haircut,” I would tell them and they would say, no. “C’mon, I’ll give you a nickel,” and they would say okay. I would cut their hair and it was real good.

Where’s my nickel?” they would ask.

“Go show your mom the haircut, and if she likes it, tell her to give you the nickel.” I got pretty good at it and started doing all the kids’ hair in the neighborhood and then eventually the grown-ups too, all free of course. Eventually, all the kids from school started coming to me.

“I heard you were becoming a pretty good barber and have a lot of customers,” Albert, the other town barber told me.

“Well, I hope to become as good as you someday,” I would tell him. One day, on the way out of the barbershop Albert gave me a pair of sheers and told me to try them out. “Thanks!” I told him. Pretty soon I was cutting more hair than I ever ex- pected. I would stay busy all day Saturday. Even the policeman from town would come to me for haircut and give me a dollar. Finally, I started charging for my services. I started to charge 50 cents and would make up to $10 on Saturdays and about two or three dollars on the weekdays. I was finally making enough money to buy nice clothes and more money than ranching.

The school year ended and I knew I would spend the summer making adobe bricks. Arthur and I would start making the mud in the evenings and then get up early in the mornings when the temperature was still cool, and start laying the bricks out to dry.

We started making about 250 adobe bricks a day and selling them for 4 cents a piece. That was $40 for every thousand! After the first four days, we made our thousand bricks and sold them for $40, which Arthur and I split. It was another job that was better than ranching.

My friend Joe’s Dad would make a thousand a day by himself then wouldn’t work for a week or two. Everyday I made my bricks, about 250 or so, and then go to “The Tongue” with the guys. “The Tongue” was a water reservoir that was as big as a city block and deep as any pool I had ever seen. I started going with the gang that summer. One day Sam came and got me to go the river early, that there was something I needed to see.

We got to “The Tongue” and met the other guys there. “Guess who’s here,” they told me. They took me to the bank of the river and Sam told me to be real quit. I could hear girls laughing and screaming. We get to the top of the bank and saw all the girl’s clothes hanging from the trees and laying on the ground. Sam was quick to see them and picked up a pair of bloomers.

He held them high and yelled, “Who do these belong to? Oh, and these ones too.” There were four girls swimming naked in the water, Victoria, Rosabella, Julia, and Lucinda.

“You son-of-a-bitch,” Victoria yelled out. “Leave our clothes alone.”

Sam shook his head and grinned. “We’re gonna sit right here till you come out!”

“I’m gonna tear you eyes out, you,” Victoria yelled back. We stayed there for a while and I didn’t say a word until it started getting late and cold. I told Sam we should get going and Sam started hanging their bloomers back on the tree. We started home, but Sam kept saying he wanted to stay there so he could see their boobs. It was getting dark and I had to be home for supper, or else I wouldn’t eat, so we left.

“You better watch out,” I told him. “They’re gonna come get you.” Just like Sam, always up to no good.

Some evenings we would go to the skating ring instead of going to the river. It was there in Canon. It had a bar and a huge dance hall they would fix up to be a skating ring. Kids from all over the place would come out. We would pick up on girls and walk them home, or if we were lucky, take them behind the building and neck. We didn’t have cars so we always walked.

One Friday, Dad and I jumped into his old 1939 Ford truck and went to Federade Clothing Store. He gave me $5 to buy a shirt and some underwear for school. The rest of the money he earned went to mom; except for the few he kept to buy himself beer.

The next day a man came by the house and asked my Dad if he had any adobe bricks for sale. He was a real tall Anglo man with a nice car. Dad called Arthur and I out and introduced us as the adobe makers. We took the Anglo out to see the neatly stacked bricks. “Not bad, not bad at all,” he says. “What are you asking for them?” he asked. We had about two thousand stacked and about another 250 on the ground.

“Four cents a piece,” I tell him. He said he would take them all, but then he stopped and looked at me for a second.

“But I’ll pay you-,” aww, I thought to myself; he’s only going pay 3 cents a piece. “Five cents a piece,” he says. “I’ll have a truck here tomorrow to pick them up.” He shook my Dad’s hand and told him we were good boys. He gave us the money and left. We were in such a hurry to rush in and tell mom. She had been saving all the money we earned from the other adobes.

That was the last of the adobe bricks we would sell that summer. I turned to selling garden seeds, even though it was late in the season, because I really wanted to buy a set of boxing gloves. I had to sell so many seeds for the gloves, but I did it and I got the boxing gloves. They were bright red, but not to big. They were called “Knock-Out” Gloves. The kind that were hard, but they eventually softened up after I started punching people. I told my Dad we should build a boxing ring by a big tree in our back yard.

“How are you gonna do it?” he asked.

“Simple,” I told him. “We’ll dig a big hole in the ground. We’ll make it twelve inches deep and the ring twelve by twelve feet, and put posts in the corners with ropes around it.”

Dad said okay and that he would get the rope the next day. Dad thought the boxing ring was a good idea because he loved boxing and because it would be good for us. We would learn how to protect ourselves and get some exercise.

We dug the ring with the help of the kids around the neighborhood. They all want- ed to box too. We filled the ring with 6-inches of sawdust and Dad put two ropes around the ring. Word spread quickly about the ring and kids from all over started showing up to box and watch others.

We started matching kids according to age and size. Man, there was a lot of bloody noses and crying. We had everything the pros had like buckets of water and stools for the corner. Even the girls would box. Evan was real good; she was even better than some of the guys.

One day I was working around the house cutting weeds. Joe, whom I had not boxed yet, came by and asked, “Where’s the gloves?”

“Inside.”

“I’ll box you,” he said.

We went inside, got the gloves, put them on, and started boxing. BOOM, I got him square in the jaw and he almost fell down. He was a bit dizzy and his eyes started to water. He took the gloves off, threw them on the ground, and left. I just put the gloves up and went back to my work.

About a half-hour later Joe returned again. “Get the gloves. Let’s go a few rounds,” he told me. I shrugged okay and went and got the gloves back out. My mom saw me getting the gloves and asked what I was doing with the gloves again. I told her Joe wanted another fight and all the kids started to run outside to watch.

We put the gloves on and started to move around and punch one another. He was doing a little better this time and then all of a sudden, BOOM! I got him on the nose causing him to start gushing blood. He threw the gloves on the floor again and stormed off crying. I was sure to remind him that he could come back again if he wanted to go another round.

The boxing ring had to be torn down once school started. I was starting the 10th grade and that year I had a new haircut and some real nice pants to wear that I bought with all the money I made from selling adobes and giving haircuts. My shirts and shoes were nice too. I never had a wrinkle and my shoes were always shined.

One night Sam came over to get me to go see a movie in town. I didn’t really want to, but he said he would treat me to a movie. Movies cost 15 cents back then. So, I said okay, went inside, and got ready. I came out and boy did Sam look sharp. His khaki pants were pressed and as stiff as a board. He told me that he had a date with Vangie.

We walk about a mile and Sam told me how this was going to work. He told me to hang back so he could pay for our tickets and that he’d probably have to buy her a coke too. I asked if he was buying me a coke, but he told me I was lucky he was buying my movie ticket.

We got by the Captain O’Hay Motel and Sam stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at me real sad and I asked what was wrong. He told me in Spanish, “Se me salyo I caldito!” meaning, “The grave just came out.” He had shit in his nicely pressed pants. “Come on, let’s go back and change,” he said eagerly.

I told him no and that someone should stay to see Vangie; otherwise she would think Sam stood her up. I told him to give me the money and he told me to tell her he had to help fix his Dad’s roof. He turned and walked home like he had a corn-cob stuck in his ass. I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m going to tell her you shit your pants, okay.” I laughed all the way to town. I got to town and decided not to see the movie be- cause it would be dark when it got out and I would be by myself. I didn’t see Vangie anyways and assumed she was already inside the movie, so I bought a coke and headed home.

The next day I saw Sam and the first thing he asked was if I saw Vangie. I had to joke with him and said, “Yeah. I told her you shit yourself. But don’t worry. She didn’t have to watch it alone, she sat with some other guy. Oh, and they kissed.” I let him sweat it out a bit. I also made him help me chop the wood if he wanted to hear the whole story. He grabbed and axe and started helping.

“So tell me the truth,” he said.

“I did. That’s what happened.” I finally felt sorry for him and told him that I never saw her and came home. “But you better treat me right Sam otherwise I will tell her that you shit your nice pressed pants and it ran down your leg into your nice shined shoes.” I got a good laugh out of it.

Eventually he said he was in love, and as you could guess, I never saw too much of him again. He was always at Vangie’s house. He was a year older than us, but that was because he was held back in the 4th grade for two years. One day I saw him in town and he asked if I wanted to make 50 cents. I knew he was up to no good. “It depends,” I told him.

He pulled out $2.00 and asked me to go inside the Walgreens and buy a pack of Trojans. I looked at him confused and asked what the heck those were. I told him the only Trojans I ever heard of were the ones in a history book that were warriors, and I was pretty sure they weren’t for sell in Walgreens.

“Just go in and asked the man at the counter. Here is your 50 cents. Trojans, okay.” I walked into the store, which was family owned back in the day; father, mother, son, and the son’s wife. They were always there just standing around. I walked in and approached Mr. Morris, the son. He was a real big man and had a real pretty wife who was always smiling. I told him I needed a pack of Trojans. He looked me up and down and asked what size I wanted. He told me they came in small, medium, and large. Me, not knowing what they were, asked for large. He laughed and turned to his wife who was laughing too. I assumed it was something to eat or drink and thought it would be better to get the large one.

I walked around the counter and he handed me a small packet. “One seventy-five,” he told me. I handed him the $2.00 bill. He jokingly smiled and said, “Hope they fit.” I went out the store and found Sam on the corner of the street in the dark. He was excited that I was able to get them. I told him about the sizes and that I got him a large.

“No!” he yelled. “I didn’t want to large.” Then he mumbled something like, “They’d probably fall off.” I finally asked what they were and he told me he was going to use them so he wouldn’t get Vangie pregnant. I wanted to see one out of the package but he wouldn’t let me and told me to stop asking questions.

About two weeks later I went back into the store and saw Mr. Morris. “Did they fit?” he asked. I finally found out what they were so I told him they were too small. His eyes got real big and he looked at his wife. “Too small?” I shrugged and or- dered a cherry coke.

Hunting with Dad Chapter 8 My First Car and The Fighter

I started working for a doctor by the name of Dr. Brehl who lived down the road from us. l would do small chores like pulling weeds, cleaning ditches, and raking leaves. He was a German man who specialized in herbal medicine. We called him the weed doctor. After several weeks of working, I noticed something large covered by this tarp and finally asked what it was.

He told me it was a car, but he never used it because he thought they were for lazy people and that he preferred to ride his bike or walk. Naturally I asked if he wanted to sell it and for how much. He looked at me and told me, $50.00. That was a lot of money and figured I would have to ask Dad.

I went home and asked if I could buy the car. It was real nice. A 1934 Ford Coupe for only $50.00. Dad and I went to go look at it and took the tarp off. It was like- new and just like, we decided to buy it. We shook hands and that was our agree- ment. I told Dr. Brehl I had $25 in savings and asked if I could work off the other $25. My Dad offered to pay the other $25 because it would take forever to pay that amount off at 50 cents an hour. My Dad gave me the money and told me I didn’t have to pay him back.

The next day we went to pick up the car. I was so excited that I didn’t even eat all day. We put air in the tires and lowered it off the blocks. The doctor put a gallon of gas in it for me. Dad got in, started it up, got out, and told me to drive it home. He stayed behind to pay Dr. Brehl and get the papers.

I got home and everyone ran out to see my new car. It was nearly brand new and real clean. The kids started climbing all over it and in it and I had to yell at them to get off because I didn’t want them scratching up the paint and tearing the seats. Dad got home and told me that I could take mom into town when he wasn’t around.

I had to go into town the next day to get a driver’s license. I had a car but no driver license. I already knew how to drive because dad and grandpa had already taught me when I was working on the ranch, and I would always drive when we went hunting and fishing in his truck.

I passed my driving test and was ready to drive my first car into town. I was al- ways driving it around till one day my Dad told me, “Just because you were born in a car doesn’t mean you have to live in it.” He wanted me to take the bus every once in a while to save gas money. Mom would give me a little gas money when I drove her to the store, but not much though.

School started that fall and it was nice to drive to school and not have to take the bus. All the guys would run out of class and ask where I got it. I told them, “I found it right in my backyard.” I also joined the boxing team that school year. Mr. Parr, our coach, sure was tough. We worked really hard. We learned if you weren’t in shape, you lost, so we trained everyday after school. We had a tourna- ment coming up and I had a real good shot of winning my three fights. I knew more-or-less whom I would be boxing.

The day came and there I was, in my corner as ready as I would ever be. But that’s the funny thing about life. I was ready, when all of a sudden I heard a voice call my name. I turned around and there was Ida May Dickenson, the prettiest girl I had seen up to that point in my life. We went to school together up until the 5th grade before she moved to Raton. I remembered how I used to walk her home and we would play together in the summer evenings. She had bright blues eyes and shiny blond hair. All the boys liked her, but I was the lucky one, because she liked me.

She was even prettier than I remembered and my legs and knees started shaking. The bell rang and I couldn’t even throw a punch. I moved back and fell down. The bell finally rang after the first round and my corner man asked what they hell was wrong. It looked like I had never even boxed before. I lost all three rounds and didn’t get to advance. I walked back to dressing room, changed, and walked home. I never saw Ida May again. Back at school on Monday, her friend told me that Ida May had stuck around to see me but I thought it would have been better if I never saw her.

The next day at practice, Mr. Parr told me I had to work harder, and I did. After that, I never lost another fight. I won them all that season, and like that, the season was over. I didn’t play any other sports. I was too short for basketball, to thin for football, and my legs were too short for track. I decided the sport for me would be chasing girls. I had a few girlfriends, mostly the girls from Ranchos, who were all really pretty. O.V. and I started dating two of them. I dated Cleo and O.V. starting dating a pretty girl named Gloria.

One day, Arthur drove mom into town. She went inside the store and Arthur wait- ed inside the car. A man came up to the car and told Arthur to turn down the music then he asked, “Is this Johnny’s car?”

“Yeah. I’m his brother,” Arthur answered.

The guy leaned in and said, “Tell him this for me,” and punched him right in the face. Arthur got home and told me what happened and I knew exactly who did it. You see, there was this gang that ran around from Talpa that called themselves the Jokers. The kid who punched Arthur was someone who thought he was pretty bad, named Juan.

One night we were in town and a few of the Jokers saw O.V., Luciano, and I. Juan wanted to fight us, so we went behind this a SafeWay store to fight. Juan pulled out a chain and I told Luciano to run. Arturo, one of Juan’s friends, picked up a rock and started to chase Luciano. I was standing close to him and when he ran by, I punched him right in the face. He was about to fall and I was going to give him a good uppercut when out of nowhere someone grabbed me from the back.

I was about to throw another punch but found out real quick it was the sheriff, Sheriff Uvaldo. The Jokers ran off and the sheriff took me and Arturo to his office. Arturo had a big shiner under his eye and sheriff asked who hit him. He wouldn’t say a word so the sheriff looked at me. “What happened?” he asked.

“I dunno, I came up and he was on the ground. I was just trying to help him up.” Uvaldo grinned and told us to get out of his office and go home. He told us not to be in town past 9 anymore or he would lock us up. We got out to the street. Arturo went one way and I went the other. Luciano and O.V. never got caught.

About a month went by and a gang around Taos called, the Spider Gang started becoming more prominent. O.V. and I knew all the guys but we weren’t part of their gang. Everyone else thought we were because we would hang out with them sometimes and stick with them when they got in fights with the gangs from other towns. We would even date some of the girls that hung out with them, but we were never part of their gang.

One night we went to this dance at “El Pavon”. It was a nightclub and was real popular. O.V. was driving that night. He had his brother in-law’s 1948 Ford. He let me and my date out in front of the club while he went to find a parking place. The girl and I walked in arm in arm and saw a couple of guys I knew from school standing on the wall.

Then I spotted no one other than Juan and his gang walking across the dance floor towards the guys on the wall. I told my date to let go of my arm because trouble was about to start. Juan walked right up and punched one of the guys right in the face. I ran over, grabbed Juan and punched him right in the lip causing blood to come out all over his face. The owner and bouncers ran over and told us to take the fight outside.

We got outside and a bunch of the Jokers were waiting. But lucky for me O.V. and his brother Abram just showed up and saw that Juan and I were about to go at it. Abram told everyone else to stay out of it, or they would have to fight him. He had just gotten out of the Army and had a reputation for being pretty tough guy. Nobody jumped in and I beat the hell out of Juan. I remembered how he punched my brother in the face and how he kept bullying all the kids from Taos. He had it coming to him. By the end of the fight, I had a torn jacket and his blood on my shirt. We took off with the girls and let the Jokers clean him up.

Come Monday, the talk was all around school but I didn’t pay much attention to it. To me, I did it just because of what he did to my brother. Family always has to stick together, no matter what. I just kept going to school in my nice car and get- ting the pretty girls. No one else gave any of us a hard time the rest of the year.

Chapter 9 California Bound

School was over and there wasn’t much work going on in Taos. Dad told me if I didn’t find work that I was going to have to pack my stuff up and look for work on the road. My uncle Aliencio and his family moved to Los Angeles, California ear- lier that summer, he came to town to visit the rest of the family in Taos. Actually, he wasn’t my real uncle, but he and my Dad were compadres, just like brothers, and I called him my uncle. His sons, Joe Ben and Clarence told me all about L.A. and all the available work that easy to come by. My uncle and father talked about me going to California and staying with my uncle for the summer. My Dad said he would think about it.

A couple days later I ran into Amado Mores, a good friend of Joe Ben’s from when they lived in Las Cruses. He was a year-and-half older than I was. We talked about the work in California and how we could stay with Aliencio.

“Well, let’s go Amado, off to California to work,” I said. We decided we could hitch hike. We mad a plan and talked to our parents. I put my car on blocks and hid the keys so that Arthur wouldn’t drive my car while I was away. I didn’t want any of the kids playing around the car. I packed a small box worth of stuff in a cloth.

I met my mom in the hallway. She handed me $25.00 to get me on my way. “Be careful,” she told me.

“You don’t have to worry, mom. I’ve been out of the house when I was sheep herding and that was when I was a lot younger.” I met Amado in town and off we went. The trip started out real good our first day. We got a ride to Santa Fe first then to Albuquerque, and then to Gallup, but then things slowed down after Gallup. We were on the outskirts trying to find a ride for about two hours and we hadn’t eaten much except for what we brought with us when we started the trip. Neither of us wanted to spend our money to buy food. A few cars drove by, but didn’t pay any attention to us.

“These megas won’t give us rides,” I told him.

“Megas? These are Indians.”

“Ya, megas,” I said and he got a real good laugh out of that.

“Okay, megas. I like that.”

A car finally stopped outside of a service station and we thought that it was as good as a time as any to ask for a ride from a stranger. We knew we had to get away from the outskirts and hopefully into a town with more people where we could find a ride quicker. Inside the car were two men and a woman.

“Can we get a ride?” I asked.

“Where are you going?”

“Los Angeles.”

“Well hey, that’s where we are going too. Jump in the back.” There was a man in the backseat and woman at the wheel. They looked like crooks, but we headed out with them anyway. About ten miles down the road they asked for some money for gas. Amado told them we didn’t have any and that’s why we were hitchhiking and looking for work in L.A. Amado and I talked quietly under our breaths and agreed we would take turns sleeping. This way one of us could keep our eyes on them and the other could get some rest.

We drove until dark and Amado was asleep while I sat quietly in the back when all of a sudden the man in the front seat opened the glove compartment and pulled out a knife. I slowly poked Amado in the side to wake him up. I looked over at the man in the back seat to my left who was sleeping. I whispered to Amado, “if he tries anything, I’ll hit the man on my left and you get the guy up front.” The man in the front turned around at us yielding the knife. “How much do you think I could get for this knife?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” He stared at us for a minute and looked around the car. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but we were ready. The girl in the front didn’t look alarmed or nervous. She just smoked a cigarette and drove. The man turned back around and put the knife back in the glove box. Neither of us could sleep for a while after that, but once the nerves wore off, I got some shuteye while Amado kept watch.

We finally got to Flagstaff, Arizona and parked at a gas station. We got out to stretch our legs. The lady up front told somebody else to drive. We told them thanks for the ride, but we were going to stay there for a day or two. I didn’t have a good feeling about those people. Amado looked at me like I was crazy for saying we were staying for a couple of days. We walked up the street and I told Amado we were going to take a bus the rest of the way. We were halfway, so it shouldn’t be that expensive.

We found the bus station and asked the teller how much for a ticket to L.A. “Ten dollars,” she said. We got two tickets and waited for an hour and a half. We de- cided to get a hamburger while we waited and caught the bus shortly thereafter.

The bus pulled into a very large and busy L.A. station around 3 a.m. People were everywhere, even at three in the morning, unlike the station in Taos. We decided not to call Amado’s uncle until 6 a.m. Amado called his uncle after 6 as planed and thirty minutes later he arrived. We talked for a bit before leaving the station. I informed him that I would be staying with my Uncle Abenico at 405 Isabel Street. “Oh, ok. I know where that is. It’s pretty close to us,” he said and agreed to take me there.

We pulled into where I was staying and I thanked them for the ride and got out of the truck. I walked around to the back door and knocked. Clarence opened the door, and man was he surprised to see me. “Come in, come in! Mom, Jr. is here!” My Aunt walked in along with the rest of the young boys. My Uncle Abenico and Joe Ben had already left to work.

“How did you get here? All the way from Taos! My goodness, that is some trip you made. How is everyone?” she asked. I told her everyone was fine, but there were no jobs in New Mexico so I came looking for work here. “Don’t worry, you’ll surely find a job here,” she said confidently. I looked over at the young boys who were sitting quietly on the kitchen counter waiting to go fishing. My aunt was getting ready to go to work so Clarence invited me to go fishing with them.

We ate a small breakfast and went out to fish. We arrived at a small lake in Lincoln Park. I thought we would be fishing for fish we could eat, but to my surprise they were fishing for goldfish. They would go and sell the biggest fish and make some decent money. I just stood by and watched.

We got home to find uncle and Joe Ben already there. We greeted each other and caught up on the past. The family was really nice to me. Joe Ben told me to get some rest that day and that he would take me out to find a job the next day. He worked at a grocery store called Buy-Rite. That was the first place we looked, but unfortunately there wasn’t any openings. My uncle worked at a steel plant, but I was too young too work there.

For three days I looked and was starting to get worried that I traveled all the way to California for nothing. I finally found an opening at a factory, but I was a year too young. I called Amad who still hadn’t found a job. I told him about the factory position and he was able to get the it. I started searching the want ads and found a posting for a clean-up boy at a bakery. I applied and got my first job in California. I talked to Bob, the owner of the store. He told me I would come in at 11:00 p.m. and stay until 7 a.m. and would get paid 75 cents an hour. I had to walk a mile to and from work to my Uncle’s house and other than that, everything was great. At least I had a job.

I got to the bakery at 10:30 p.m. and sat on the steps in front waiting for my shift to begin. I didn’t think anything of it, but people from two or three different build- ings started poking their heads out of windows watching me. All of a sudden, two police cars pulled up, one from each side of the street. One policeman jumped out of his car and started yelling at me, “Get on you feet, put your hands on the wall!” I did as I was told and he came up to me from behind. “Get spread eagle!” he shouted. I didn’t know what that meant, so I just stood there and he kicked my legs apart. “What are you doing here?” the cop asked.

“I work here,” I said. Fortunately, Bob came just in time. The cop asked him if I worked for him and Bob told him I did.

“I guess it’s better he works here than getting into trouble,” the cop said before let- ting me go. Bob took me inside and started telling me what I had to do. Clean the trays, scrub the floors, and keep the whole place neat. I got to work and I worked real hard and by 7 a.m., I was pooped. The day-baker came in that morning. He was a great big Negro man named Prince. He asked who I was and where I was from. I told him I was from Taos, New Mexico to which he replied, “Never heard of it. I’ve never been to Mexico.” That was pretty much our whole conversa- tion.

I was coming along real good. Each day I went to work and kept the place real clean and made Bob happy. Bob would get the dough ready at night after I came in and then would go to a bar down the street. I was cleaning one night after he left and found a couple of five gallon cans full of rotten eggs. I thought Bob would be real happy if I threw them out and I figured they were there because nobody else wanted to touch them. So, I took them out and threw them in the trashcan out back.

Bob came in that morning and asked where the eggs were. I told him I finally took them out back because they were rotten and were smelling up the bakery. I thought I had done a real good job by taking initiative and doing something else nobody wanted to! “Oh no!” he cried, “I buy those like that for some of the bread.” He rushed out and started bringing them in. “Boy, I’m sure glad you didn’t dump them. These are real expensive.”

The bakers started letting me help make some baked goods after some time passed. One night Bob told me to make some dough for the cake donuts. I got a bag of flour and dumped it in a huge mixing bowl, but noticed a bunch of little bugs in the mix. I went and told Bob that I was going to throw out the flour because of all the little bugs. “No, it’s okay. You can leave them in there. People can’t see them once they are fried,” he said. I used to like cake donuts, but haven’t eaten one since. I started learning how to do a lot of the baking and as a result I worked longer hours and Bob spent more time at the bar. I just kept hoping that if I spent more time baking that I would get a raise. I never did get that raise but baking helped keep me busy and made the time go by faster. The nice thing about the bakery was I got all the fresh bread and pastries I wanted. We would keep cold cuts in the fridge and make sandwiches and wash them down with coke or milk. Bob would always let me take the day old pastries and bread home with me. I would take two bags full to my uncle and aunt every so often. You should have seen their faces light up when I would bring them home. The kids were usually the first ones to jump in a grab all the sweet pastries out.

I continued to work nights and the family was off to school and work by the time I got home in the morning. Rarely did I see Joe Ben or my uncle Abenico except for on the weekends. I called Amando to see how he was doing one day and much to my surprise, I found out he had gone back to Taos the week prior. I stayed working for the rest of the summer. I asked my Aunt if I could pay her for room and board. She said I never ate more than my share or took up too much room, so she asked for about $1 a day. Not too bad considering I made about $35 a week.

I would wake up in the afternoon and wait around board till I had to work that night at 10:30 pm. One day I asked my Uncle if I could dig in the basement and make it a little bigger. He thought it was too big a project for me and that I should sleep and rest before work, but boredom took hold and I just started digging one day. Before I knew it the rest of the boys were helping and before too long, we had a large room dug out. We put cement down on the floor and I plastered the walls. My uncle helped me insert some partitions and a whole room was com- pleted where the kids and I ended up sleeping on the floors. I saved my money and I started the new school year by buying some nice clothes. I even bought my brothers some shirts and socks. As a matter of fact, I even needed a suitcase to pack all my new clothes in. I would go out with Joe Ben when I had some extra spending money. He knew a lot of girls and we would occasionally go drag his 1939 Ford. I went out with a few girls, but because I worked nights, I never had too much time to go out with them. Sometimes I would go see a movie at the cinema on the nights that I didn’t have to be at work until 11:00 pm. One night I saw this girl walking home on the street that I had seen at the movies a few times. I caught up with her and asked her if she liked the movie.

“Yeah,” she said.

“You live around here?” I asked. She told me she lived just up the street, which happened to be close to me. I walked her home but not before I asked her name.

“Dolores,” she said.

“Johnny. I’m from New Mexico.” I found out she lived alone with her mother. Her mother worked nights, which is why she went to the movies at night. I told her I worked nights too. The next day I brought her a big bag of breads and pastries and asked her if she wanted to go to a movie. We agreed on a Friday night and it was nice to have a friend. She was real nice to be with.

The time came to leave Los Angeles. I told my Uncle and Aunt thank you very much for allowing me stay with them and they thanked me for all the work I had done in the basement. They boys were all real sad that I had to leave because we had such a good time together. To this day, they have been like little brothers to me and I have the most respect for my Uncle Abenico and Aunt Covina. I learned a lot at the bakery and although I never got a raise, I did get some great bread and pastries.

I went home with some nice clothes and eventually caught up with Amado in town. He asked how L.A. was. I told him the first thing that came to my mind. “You chicken shit, you left and didn’t even tell me. My job wasn’t exactly ideal, but I stuck through it.” I was irritated because people need to not think about just themselves. I learned that growing up from my Dad and growing up in a large family teaches you sacrifice. If people thought of others more often today, then this world would be a better place.

Dad was good at teaching us things like that, for example, we were having sup- per one night and my mom had made some apple pies and set one on the table for dinner. My brother Gill noticed that one of the slices were a little bigger than and grabbed it before the beans and potatoes were even served. My Dad looked at Gill. “You like apple pie?” he asked. Gill knew he was in trouble immediately. “Well then, here, you eat the whole thing.” Poor Gill had to eat the whole pie, but too bad that didn’t teach him.

There was another time that we were sitting at the breakfast table and Rachel had made some pancakes. Again it was Gill who took a big chunk of butter, almost about half the cube, and again my Dad looked at him and said, “you don’t think that’s enough you got there. Here, eat the whole thing.” So there we were eating pancakes without butter and there was Gill, eating butter, but not so much pan- cake. There were twelve of us eating around a table and although my Dad was a good provider, mom had to cook a lot and we all had to be considerate to make sure there was enough food for everyone.

One evening Arthur and I had gone for water at the river. It was late and real cold. We just came up the hill with two 20-gallon cans of water in a wagon. Arthur and I pushed and pulled each other around when came up this big bully, Abe Archul- eta.

“I see you two guys hauling around water from my river,” he said.

“It’s not your river,” I told him. He pushed the cans off the wagon and walked away laughing. It took us longer to get home and when we arrive, my Dad asked what took us so long. I told him what happened.

“Come on, get in the truck. We’ll see about this bastard,” my Dad said. We drove up to Abe’s house and my Dad got out of the truck and told me to come with him and told Arthur to stay in the truck. Dad knocked on the door and Abe opened the door. My Dad slapped him right in the face. “You little bastard. You ever do that to my kids again I’ll put you away, you hear.” About that time, Abe’s Dad came to the door and my Dad told him why he slapped his son. His dad said he would handle it from there. We start walking to the car and right away we could hear what sounded like somebody getting hit with a belt followed by Abe screaming.

Times were easier back then and that is because adults were in charge, not kids. They took care of business.

Dad would take us hunting and fishing a lot, as you already know. He taught us real well and we always had meat and fish to eat. We would go to Rio Chicito or Pot Creek to fish. We would walk about three miles to get to Rio Chicito or five miles to Pot Creek from our house. There was so much fish though and we would always come home with our bags full. Although Pot Creek was further away, it was worth it because the fish were also so much bigger.

One day Lloyd Juanito and I got up real early to go fish at Pot Creek. Before we left, my Dad told us that if anyone asked who let us in, tell them “Big Red”. The creek was part of a lumber mills property so it was marked as private. We got there and started fishing. We were doing real well. Shortly after we started, two men on horses started coming and we didn’t have a chance to hide. Before we knew it, they were right on top of us. One man asked how the fishing was. I told him it was good, but I was waiting for the real question.

“Who gave you permission to fish here?”

“Big Red,” I said.

“Oh, I see.” The two men started to laugh and I was hoping it was a good enough answer. “Don’t catch them all, okay,” and like that they galloped off. The man on the back horse turned around and came back to us.

“That was Big Red,” he said with a smile. “Good luck out here today.”

We started to head back because it was getting late. We met my Dad at a pick-up spot and he asked how we did. He looked down at our bags and by the size of them he hinted that we must have done pretty good.

When I wasn’t fishing I was rabbit hunting and would always bring back a few, and we started eating rabbit all the time at home. When we got tired of that, I would hunt for grouse. We sure did eat good in the fall with all the stuff there was to hunt.

I would go big game hunting with my Dad. I couldn’t buy a hunting license yet, but in the meantime he taught me good techniques like how to walk and what to look for. There were a few private places we could hunt at with permission. I re- member one big hunt we went on at a private place called Soddin Ranch. It was my Dad, Carlos, Tiger, Uncle Abenico, Sabino, Ted, Juan, Aunt Cora, Corina, and myself. They even brought a cook with them named Zake Peralta. I was just the wood hauler and it was my job to haul wood all day. The hunt was for ten days, November 10th through the 20th. It was cold and there was about six inches of snow on the ground.

On the first day, Juan and Dad killed two big bucks, ten pointers to be exact. Sa- bino and Ted got one the next day, but they shot the deer so many darn times they ruined half the meat. Dad told them not to hang theirs next to his because it looked so bad and he didn’t want people getting confused. Everyone in the camp started laughing. The hunt continued but nobody else got anything. Every night the talk was about what everyone saw and, “ooh, how they missed a big one,” but nobody had any deer, just stories. At the end of the hunt, the meat was divided evenly so everyone got to take some meat back to his family, even the cook.

I got my license the following year and we went to Cimarron Canyon. It’s a rough place but there was a lot of deer. Dad, Uncle Abenico, Joe Ben, and I all went. We set up a real nice camp. There was about four inches of snow. First day out, the hunters told Joe Ben and I the deer had to have antlers in order for us to shoot it, and to make sure it was a good clean shot. I went with Dad and Joe Ben went with his Dad and we made a plan. We had to go up this canyon and then split up. They would post Joe Ben in a draw and me on the ridge.

There I was looking across this canyon when I saw some deer running. I thought that maybe Dad or Uncle Abenico had spooked them. I saw big antlers so I laid down on my stomach and aimed at the biggest one in the pack. I looked down the scope on my 30-30 Winchester rifle. It was real old, but I shot real good and steady with it. BANG! One shot and I saw him roll down the canyon.

I saw that he wasn’t moving, so I started walking down the canyon real slow and ready in case he got up, but sure enough, he was dead. I had never seen a deer that big before. Dad had killed a lot of deer, but none ever this big.

I knew how to dress it because I had been doing it for so many years with rabbits, sheep, pigs, and helping Dad with his deer. I couldn’t turn this deer over because he was so big, so I had to do it with him on his side. I cut his stomach and his guts feel out. By the time I got the guts out, I was covered in blood, head to toe. I took the liver and the heart out and made sure to save it. We always took that back to the camp because it made a good supper. I started to drag it back, having to stop and take breaks again and again because my arms would get tired. I got to camp. Dad, Uncle, and Joe Ben were standing by the fire they had just built. They saw me covered blood and carrying liver and heart. “What did you kill?” Joe Ben asked.

I smiled at my Dad, “I know you have killed a lot of deer in you days, but none as big as this one.”

“Sure you didn’t kill a cow?”

“No,” I said. “It’s got big antlers.” We got the horse and went to finish dragging it out of the canyon before it got dark. I told my Dad the horse wouldn’t carry it because it was bigger than the horse.

“Let’s go see what you killed,” Dad said. We followed the tracks I made coming to the camp. Joe Ben was up front and spotted the antlers, looked back at us and yelled it was a big one. When Dad and my Uncle saw it, their eyes were open wide and real surprised. “It’s an elk,” Dad yelled. “Where the heck did those come from? We’ve been hunting this canyon for years and never saw one.”

I didn’t think it mattered because it had antlers but my Dad told me that we didn’t have a license for elk. “Well, you just said to make sure it had antlers,” I said. He nodded.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Uncle Abenico said. “We can’t take it with us and can’t be seen around here.” I felt real bad. I thought I had killed the biggest deer in the world and Joe Ben told me he would have killed it too; it did have antlers. But Dad wasn’t about to waste it. He told Joe Ben and I that when Uncle Abenico fell asleep in the tent, we’d go get some meat out of it.

So once Uncle Abenico fell asleep, off we went. When we got there, we grabbed the hind legs and the front legs and dragged it out of the canyon to where my Dad could get it with the truck. Dad came back shortly with the truck and told us to load it up and then head back to camp and that he would be back in the morning.

The morning came and as we were getting ready to go to out when Dad pulled up in the truck. “Where’ve you been?” asked Uncle. “I had to get Jr. some clean clothes. He couldn’t go hunting with all the blood on his clothes,” Dad told him. Dad winked at me and I knew that we weren’t sup- posed to tell what we really did and why he really went back home. By the end of the hunt, Dad had gotten an eight-pointer, Joe Ben a four-pointer, and me, I got a real big one; an elk. Uncle didn’t score any.

We got home and Dad called Uncle to the shed to get his share of the meat and there was the elk hanging in the shed along with the bucks. “What did you do?” exclaimed Uncle Abenico.

“I couldn’t let it go to waste. Besides, it had antlers,” he laughed.

I did get some big bucks later in the years though. One evening in October, Dad told me that we had gotten a bear license and that we were going to Black Lake, about 30 miles from Taos, the next day. Dad said there had been a lot of bear sight- ings there the last couple of days. The plan was to leave after Dad got home from work the next day.

We left for the Lake as planned and got to our camp. We gathered wood, built a fire, and started setting up the tent and making supper when a man on horseback approached.

“Howdy. Ya’ll hunting bear?” he asked. Dad nodded. “Go down the canyon about a mile from here. That’s where all the bear sightings have been. Dad thanked him and invited him for supper but the man said he had a far way to go still. Dad told him to hold on for one minute and took a tortilla and potatoes and meat we were cooking and wrapped them up.

“Here, take this for the road,” Dad told him.

“Oh, the name of the canyon is Feffres Canyon,” and off he went. He finished sup- per and broke down camp so we could move closer to the canyon with the bear. We got there, set up the pop-tent and crawled into our sleeping bags and went to sleep.

We woke up early in the morning when it was still dark outside. He grabbed a tor- tilla and some potatoes and made a sandwich and took some potted meat for lunch and took off. We walked down a canyon for about half an hour. Dad stopped, kneeled down and took aim. I stood behind him real still and wait. BANG! He shot and he knew he got it. He asked if I could see it, but I could not.

The bear had rolled down the hill. We got to the spot were the bear was shot, but we did not see it. We did find blood though. Dad said it was best to wait a while and let it bleed out because a wounded bear was dangerous. We decided to go and wait down the canyon and come back later, follow the blood and get him then.

We got the bottom of the canyon and split up. I was supposed to take one side of the canyon and Dad was going to walk on the other side and meet up at the end of the canyon. I walked real carefully keeping my eye out for the bear. I was even looking up in the trees. I didn’t want it to jump down on me! I could see where the bears had turned logs and rolled rocks and I knew they were in the area.

Sure enough, I saw the oak brush moving as if the wind was moving it, but there was no wind. Then I saw something emerge about fifty feet from me. Once it moved out of the brush I could tell it was a big brown bear that was looking on the ground for some food. I raised the rifle to ready position, steady, aim, BANG! Right in the head. He fell down growling and smacked his head on a large boulder. I could later see the mark he left. I put the rifle down and watched for a minute as the bear got up and started walking towards where I was, behind a large pine tree. I put another bullet in the rifle and shot it right on the neck. Again he fell down growling. I put one more bullet in the rifle to be sure, but he finally stopped moving. Every once in awhile he would shake and growl a little.

I was standing on a large boulder witnessing this and my feet wouldn’t stop shak- ing, like I was tap dancing. I could hear my Dad hollering, but I couldn’t holler anything back. I opened my mouth, but nothing would come out. I pulled out a .22 pistol and fired it three times in the air. I could hear my Dad coming to where I was still hiding behind the pine tree.

“What did you shoot at?” he asked. I pointed and told him I got a big one. He looked down the canyon where the bear was laying and told me to get my rifle ready. He picked up a large rock and threw it at the bear. “He’s dead.” Boy it was a big one. Dad hugged me and told me it was a good shot. We drug it over to the shade, but couldn’t drag it very far. We decided to skin it right there. He asked if I wanted to skin it or if I wanted to go to the truck and get the sacks. I was so shook up that I wouldn’t know where the truck would have been, so I de- cided I would stay and skin it. He started to show me how to do it and told me to leave the skin on the feet, hands, and head.

He left me his dagger but took my rifle so it wouldn’t be in the way. He walked off as I was skinning and then it hit me. What if another bear came and I didn’t have a rifle. All I would have is a dagger. I started looking at the trees to spot one that I could climb in case I had to escape.

Dad came back about an hour and half later and boy was I glad. I had almost fin- ished skinning the bear, but was still a little rattled. Dad pulled out a small bottle of whiskey and told me take a swig to calm my nerves. I took a pretty big swallow. Then Dad pulled out a can of peaches to eat so we could have some energy to pull that great big bear out.

We took the skin off and when we finished, it looked like a fat man. It was a male bear and because of the color, and I’m pretty sure it was a grizzly bear. It took us about six hours to get it to the truck. We laid the skin on top of my Dad’s 1948 Ford truck. The skin covered the whole hood. Dad offered me another drink for the work we had done but I told him no. Dad was so excited I got such a big bear that he forgot all about the bear he shot earlier and never went to go look for it.

“You drive. I’m going to get drunk,” Dad said. We got home and word got out about the bear. The kids and neighbors all came out to see it. Dad got a fire going outside and pulled out a big skillet and started frying the bear meat. He had to fry it outside because mom wouldn’t let him use the kitchen or stove. He did tell mom to make some tortillas up. A bunch of people started showing up and everybody wanted a bear sandwich. We kept frying meat and Mom kept the tortillas com- ing.

Dad’s friends wanted to go back and get what was left of the bear, but Dad told them about the heck of time we had pulling out what did. We hung the skin up in the shed and measured it; eight feet and two inches tall. By now I was in the tenth grade and I was going to dances and dating more girls, but I was having a hard time in school. I just couldn’t get with it and money started getting tight. I couldn’t go out much or even take a girl to the drug store for a coke. I had to make excuses why I couldn’t go. One evening after school I was taking this girl to the drug store for a coke. I had been saving my lunch money all week, about fifty-cents worth. We were walking in the door and these two guys came walking out. I knew who they were, but never had anything to do with them. They were a lot taller than me. As we passed by, one of them elbowed me. I stopped and looked up at him.

“What, you don’t like that?” he smirked.

“No, it’s fine. It was an accident,” I said.

“No accident,” he smirked. I told the girl to go inside and looked back at him. “You Mexicans think you’re so tough. We’re tired of you trying to take over,” he told me.

I told him that wasn’t the case, and then I told him, “Look, you want to go blows, then let’s go out back behind the store.”

“What’s wrong right here, Mexican?”

I responded by saying there was too much glass and didn’t want anything to get broken. I could see him clinching his fist and decided not to wait. He was big- ger than me and had already started it by throwing an elbow at me. So quickly, I punched him right under the chin sending him flying right into the glass door and he ended up falling right through it. I climbed in right after him, through the broken door, glass and all. He was lying down on the ground, so I got on top and punched him a couple of times in the face and walked out.

His friend grabbed me and I could see his reflection through the window. I turned around and punched him right in the face too. He fell over the hood of a car, got up, and started running. O.V. and some other guys started coming to the drug store with their girlfriends. They asked what happened and I explained it to them. They told me it would be a good idea to get out of there before the police came. I stated walking home. I hadn’t been using my car because I had no gas money. The next day O.V. came over to the house. He asked if I wanted to go to Santa Fe with him to buy some Easter clothes. I asked Mom if I could go and if I could bor- row some money for a pair of pants and a shirt. We got into town where we could hopefully hitchhike into Santa Fe. As we were waiting, I spotted Sheriff Uvaldo. He stopped his car and rolled down his window.

“Hey, Chamisito, where are you going?” he asked.

“Santa Fe,” I told him. He shook his head no.

“No you are not. Sorry. Come get in the car.” I got in the car and he drove to the courthouse where his office and jail were. He asked me about what had happened the day before. I explained how I put a guy through a window because he shoved me and called me a dirty Mexican. He informed me that they put out a complaint on me and that he had to lock me up until the judge could see me. He wouldn’t be there until 3:00 that afternoon, so I sat in jail for five hours.

The Sheriff sent a deputy to tell my Dad I was in jail and he said he already heard about it. When the deputy asked my Dad what he was going to do he replied, “He got in jail, he’ll get out of jail.”

They took me to court to face the judge. I stood in front of him and he asked, “How do you plea?” I had never been to anything like this before. So, I just told him what happened, how he called me a dirty Mexican and we went to blows. “Well, it’s gonna cost you seventy-eight dollars,” the judge said. He said it was for the cost of the window, the doctor, and the court costs.

I asked if I could pay in payments because I only had $22 on me. So I gave him the money Mom had given to me to buy new clothes. I could never win, I was broke again. The guy I had hit was named John Randell and he was in the eleventh grade at the time. School finished in May and I never saw much of John Randell. He hung out with a group of gringos. Funny thing was is they thought we were dirty Mexicans, but we were a lot sharper than them. We were clean and always had shiny shoes; they had dirty cowboy clothes. Everything eventually changed and we became friends one day. Chapter 10 The Army

I started working a lot, especially with Dad, the summer after tenth grade. I even started learning how to plaster by myself. I was always tired and rarely went out. Every once in awhile I would go to a dance. I loved dancing and was pretty good at it too.

The summer passed and I started the eleventh grade. I started out real good, but I had been dating a girl for over a year. She wanted to get married, but I couldn’t even support myself, yet alone a family. I started missing class and not making grades.

One day I heard about a lot of guys joining the service and decided that is what I should do. I talked to a friend of mine named David Vigil who was also doing pretty poorly in school too. I talked him into joining the Army with me. “Okay,” he said, “Where do we go to sign up.” I told him we would go to Santa Fe and take my car. We would talk to an Army recruiter. I told him that we would make sure that we didn’t go to Korea or Japan or any place where people had belly-but- ton eyes.

We heard there was an outfit getting set-up to go to Germany, but you have to sign up for three years. It’s called GI-Ro. We had to travel up to Colorado to sign up. We went back to Taos and I told my girlfriend that I was going up to Denver to look for work. David and I packed together some stuff and we hitchhiked to Ala- mosa, Colorado.

We found a recruiter and he signed us up and told us we had to go to Denver the next day. We had nowhere to stay, so the recruiter took us to the sheriff’s office and asked if he could put us up for the night. “They’re going to the Army and catching a bus tomorrow,” the recruiter said. He let us sleep in a jail cell that night. The sheriff woke us in the morning and bought us some breakfast. After breakfast we waited at the bus station with only our bus ticket and meal ticket for lunch.

We didn’t get into Denver until late so we were unable to see the recruiter. I had an Uncle living in Denver, so I called up my cousin, explained the situation, and asked if we could stay the night. It was no problem and he came and picked us up at the bus station. We got to my Uncle Larry’s house. Actually, he and my Dad were first cousins. We talked to the family when we got there and told them all about Taos. They had lived in Taos for a long time and used to rent a house from Dad. We slept there that night and boarded the bus the next day to downtown Denver.

I told David I wanted to go into the Air Bourne Infantry. We went to the Army office in Denver with our papers from Alamosa, Colorado. I told the recruiter, “I want to go into the Air Bourne.”

“Well, let’s see how much you weigh,” he said. I stood on the scale, 118 lbs. “Sorry, you have to weigh 126 pounds to go Air Bourne,” he told me. “But don’t worry, the Army will still take you.” We had to take a written test and if we passed, we would have to come back at 1:00 for a physical.

We both passed the written portion and then took the physical. I passed, no prob- lem, but David didn’t weigh enough so I told him to go eat some bananas and drink some water. We went out to the park and ate a whole bunch of bananas and drank a bunch of water. I stuffed so many bananas down David’s throat he looked like he was seven months pregnant. We went back to the recruiter and they put him back on the scale.

Even after all that, he was still not heavy enough. They bought him a one-way bus ticket back to Taos and they sent me to Fort Lenardwood, Missouri. The recruiter took me to the station with a train ticket and meal ticket. I boarded the train and was off to start my stint in the Army.

The train stopped in a small town in Missouri and we would be changing trains after an hour delay. I walked around the station but I didn’t want to miss my train so I stayed close and eventually sat on a bench. As I was sitting there another man came up to me and asked if I was going to Fort Riley. I told him eventually I would go, but first I had to go to Fort Lenardwood. He introduced himself as Bruce William.

Bruce was from Detroit, Michigan. He had a haircut very similar to mine; flattop with long sides and a ducktail. We talked about why we were joining the Army and about what we did back home. He was a real cool guy and we kicked it off right away. He quit school because he said he was having problems at home. Turns out he dropped out of school in January and enlisted on March 31st, 1955.

We arrived at Fort Lenardwood and there were a bunch of guys arriving in busses from other trains. A sergeant boarded the bus and immediately started yelling at us to get off the bus and line up outside. We lined up right away, about fifty or sixty of us. There was a big building and we were told that was where we would be sleeping for the night till they boarded us off to Fort Riley, Kansas. They fed us supper and we went to sleep. The next day the sergeants woke us up and marched us to breakfast and handed us our papers.

“Hang on to your papers. These are so you will know what company you will be in,” the sergeant told us. We were all loaded onto the train and headed to Fort Ri- ley. William and I were still together.

We arrived at Fort Riley, and that was were all the yelling started. The drill ser- geants started calling out names and yelling at us where to stand. William and I were in the same group. We marched to our destination and huge man came out and talked to our group. He told us we were assigned to Medical Company, 85th Infantry Regiment, 10th Division. I didn’t want to be a doctor, I told William.

They told us what barracks to go to and to put our belongings in the foot trunk that we were assigned to. We marched inside and started putting our stuff away when a sergeant told us to “fall out” onto the street. Yell, yell, yell, that’s all they did. “Let’s go, move, move, move!” they yelled.

Next we marched to the barbershop. William told me to go first. I sat in the chair and the barber asked how I like my hair cut. I told him a little long on the sides and to leave the side burns. “O.K.,” he says. “Catch them.” He peeled me clean in one minute. William was next and he looked like a peeled onion. All we could do was laugh at each other. At least we all looked the same. We were marched to another building where we received our clothing. A whole bag full, called a duffel bag. I was excited because I had never had so many clothes before. And shoes! I even had my own socks and underwear. I thought, “Man, this is o.k!”

I was assigned to 3rd Platoon and William was assigned to 4th Platoon. I had the top bunk and the guy on the bottom bunk was from Clio, Michigan. His name was Hugh Wildfong. Later in the day I started talking to this Negro fellow who was in the Army before, left, and then came back. He was a Corporal named Philippe. Turns out he came back because it was easier than trying to make a living on the outside. He taught me one thing; that if they ask for volunteers, to volunteer a couple of times and then they leave you alone.

We started our basic training. It was rough but I was doing real well. I liked the Army. All some guys did was complain but I was happy to have my own clothes, three hot meals a day, my own bed, clean sheets every week, and I got paid once a month. Not bad, not bad at all. Once evening I was shining my boots and across from me sat this guy named Moe, a mulatto. A real nice guy who was shinning his shoes too. “Tafoya, where you from?” he asked. I told him New Mexico and he told me he was from Chicago.

A man by the name of Grandstuf was walking down the aisle during mine and Moe’s conversation. He had been drinking down at the E.M. club and was a little drunk. “You said you were from New Mexico,” he asked me. “I didn’t know they let Mexicans in the United States Army.”

“I’m not Mexican. I’m from New Mexico,” I told him.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re all the same. Mexicans.” So, I stood up, and punched him right in the face. We started fighting and were throwing each other around. I bruised him up pretty good. The platoon sergeant, Sergeant Dayton, came running across the room and broke us apart. He asked what happened and nobody said a word. Moe ended up telling Dayton that Grandstuf started the whole thing.

In the morning after breakfast, the Company Commander, Captain Smith, a Negro, called a company meeting. “In this Army, there is no discrimination. If you’re white, black, brown, yellow, or green, it doesn’t matter. You are all the same, Americans,” he told us. The sergeant must have told him about our conflict the previous day. I started looking around the company and noticed I was the only Spanish soldier in 3rd platoon. There was one other Spanish guy, Vigil, from Pueblo, Colorado in 2nd Platoon. There was also Hector Molina from Lordsburg, New Mexico in 1st Platoon.

I didn’t see William very much since training started. We were so busy training all day. I stayed real sharp all the time and in no time I made Squad Leader and had nine men under me. I’m short, so I was the leader for 1st Squad. Wildfong was 2nd, Devan was 3rd, and the Hornbustal was the 4th Squad leader.

Our training eventually took us to the rifle range to shoot the M-1 rifles. We had to qualify with a rifle, carbine, .45 pistols, and the B.A.R. I did really well and earned the title of sharp shooter. I missed expert by very little, but sharp shooter was still good. I knew I was the sharpest soldier in the company.

I got picked for all the good details. I never went drinking at the E.M. Club or down in town. I was making money all the time and I would shine shoes for 50 cents and iron pants and shirts for $1.00. I would pull K.P. for $10.00 and pull guard for $10.00 and I would even make up this rich guy’s bed for 50 cents every morning. I was making an extra $78.00 a month and I was able to send my mom and Dad $100.00 a month to help them out. My fellow soldiers were surprised I told them I had eleven brothers and sisters. They would ask how Dad would feed us all and I would tell them, “Beans, tortillas, potatoes, deer meat, and fish.” It was no wonder why I never complained.

We were all finished with infantry training and now we were going to train for medics. I didn’t want to be a medic. I reported to the 1st Sergeant. “Sergeant, Pri- vate Tafoya to speak with 1st Sergeant Bumpus,” I said. 1st Sergeant Bumpus was so big and mean. He asked what the problem was. I told him I wanted a transfer to a rifle company and that I didn’t think I would be a good medic.

“You’ll be good when you finish with the training,” Bumpus said. “You’re a real sharp soldier and we want to keep you. No, you will not get a transfer. End of story, Private.” I went through the whole medical training and it wasn’t that bad. I just wanted to carry a rifle and run up hills, but instead I was a member of the Medical Company 85th Infantry Regiment 10th Division.

One morning I was on K.P. I went early so I could get on pots and pans. I really didn’t want to do trays or grease traps. I was the second soldier there and the first one got to do the dinning room. I finished cleaning the pots and pans from the morning breakfast while the cooks started making lunch. I heard one cook tell the other that they were running late and they still had to make brown gravy.

“I’ll do it,” I said. They looked at me surprised and asked if I was sure that I knew how to do it. They told me I needed to make enough for 250 men. They pointed to a large pan and told me to use it. I made some really good brown gravy. I mean, I made enough of it as a kid with my grandpa. I ate gravy for three days straight, so it had better been good.

The next day we were in the chow line when I was told that the 1st Sergeant want- ed to see me. The first that came to mind was that I was going to get my transfer to the rifle company. I reported to his office and knocked on the door. “Enter,” yelled the 1st Sergeant.

“Private Tafoya reporting as ordered.”

“I hear you want to be a cook. I am surprised,” he said. I just stood there shocked. I didn’t even answer. “Go to the supply room and tell Sergeant Gardner to give you a set of whites.”

“That’s all?” I asked.

“That’s all,” he said and so I reported the supply room as ordered.

“So you’re the one who is going to cook now, huh? Go get some breakfast and come back.” I didn’t even get a chance to say no to the 1st Sergeant. But in the Army you do what you are told. Damn, I thought, I shouldn’t have made the gravy.

It turned out to be all right. I was off every other weekend and I didn’t have to go to the medical classes. After a couple of weeks I was getting passes to go into town. The town was called Grand Junction, about four or fives miles form camp. Vigil, Walter, and I enjoyed going on pass together. Walter was a Negro and was a real funny guy who was always making jokes.

On one pass we decided we wanted a hamburger and fries and so we walked into a café and sat down at a booth. I sure was hungry for a good burger. We sat and waited for the waitress to come over. She finally came over to us and told us she would only serve two of us, but not Walter.

“Why not?” I asked. “He’s an American soldier. We all have the Army uniform on.”

“Sorry,” she said, “but we can’t serve him.”

“Well then, you won’t be serving any of us.” We got up and left and decided to go 9th street where all the Negros worked and owned businesses. Walter took us into this one café, we sat down, and got the best burger and fries I have ever eaten. We actually had two a piece. We walked around town for a while and spotted a small bar.

“Let’s go in there,” Vigil said.

“No,” I said, “They won’t serve us. We’re too brown,” and we all laughed. We ended up walking to the bus stop and all I kept thinking was how dirty this part of town was. It was strange because during that time in America, Walter could fight for his country and for the rights of white people, but couldn’t even get a burger and fries. I had never seen anything like that before. We were Americans; we were all the same I thought. Captain Smith said we were.

Eventually I started doing the baking, mostly the sweet stuff. My background in the bakery paid off. The soldiers liked what I baked. When I wasn’t baking, I was marching in the competition drill team. I was real sharp and got selected to rep- resent the company. We competed and took second in the whole company. After the competition I asked the platoon sergeant, Sgt. Dayton, if I could get out of the mess hall and that I didn’t like being a cook. He said he would do his best to get me out and that he needed me in the platoon.

A new cook arrived to the mess hall and they let me out and I was back to a squad leader spot and wearing Corporal stripes and going on three-day field exercises, carrying full field pack and a rifle, and marching over 20 miles a day. One night we were setting up pop-tents and right where Pvt. Walter was putting his tent up was a small snake. He sure was scared of it. To make him feel better I told him that there was probably a nest of baby snakes nearby and that the momma snake would probably be back later tonight to keep them warm.

About 1:00 a.m. I was walking around the camp checking on the guards. I remem- bered the little snake and decided to get Pvt. Walter. I went to his tent and stuck my hand under the tent and brushed his leg. He let out a huge yell and ran out of the pop-tent, bringing the mosquito net and all with him. He ran right to the Com- pany Post yelling, “Someone get the sergeant. A huge, huge snake just crawled up my leg. I’m not sleeping there!” The sergeant told him to go and sleep in the ¾ truck and Walter’s battle buddy happily wrapped himself up in the messed up disaster Pvt. Walter left.

In the morning I saw Walter and asked him what happened. “Corporal,” he told me, “you were right about that big stinking mother snake. She came looking for her babies and she was all over my legs. I’m not sleeping there tonight.” He talked about that snake forever.

We got back to the campus and got our weekend passes. I finally got together with some cousins that were in the service with me. I asked them to go into town with me. Fernando couldn’t go because he had guard duty, so Earnest, a red faced, freckled Spanish guy and I decided to go. We went and had a few beers and caught the bus back to camp. On the ride back, four soldiers from another company were sitting a few rows up from us making remarks at us. I stood up and asked them if they wanted to get off the bus at the next stop and go to blows.

I noticed two other Spanish guys a few rows back that were watching what was going on. One of them came up to us and asked what was going on. I explained that the white guys were making remarks and we were getting off at the next stop to throw blows. “Well, I’ll go with you, and we’ll make it four on four,” he said. The bus stopped and we got off. Too bad, but the assholes didn’t get off the bus. We were standing there and the guy who was talking with us asked where we were from. “New Mexico,” I told him, “and Earnest here is from New Mexico origi- nally, but now he lives in Denver.”

“We’re from Albuquerque , New Mexico. I’m Joe Rocco he’s Tony Mondragon.” We shook hands and agreed it was a shame that those asses didn’t get off the bus. We would have knocked the piss right out of them. “Let’s get together at the E.M. Club one of these nights and have a few beers,” Rocco said. Joe Rocco and I be- came good friends for a long time after that.

We finished with the stateside training and then we were getting a fifteen-day furlough, and then shipped over-seas to Germany. We had been training for six months. I went home on furlough and everyone was happy to see me and had all sorts of questions. “I still don’t know why you went into the Army,” Dad said. “You’ll probably come out like all those bums that go in and come out with noth- ing.”

“No I won’t Dad. I will be somebody. I’ll do my best and show you,” I said.

Mom was expecting again and that would make number twelve. I went and hung out the guys who were still in Taos. Some had gone into the Air Force and Navy and few others into the Army. Others had moved off to Denver, California, and Utah.

Dad bought me a new 1948 Ford car because Arthur had rolled my 1934 over. I don’t even know what happened to it, but it didn’t really matter because I would be gone for a few years. Those two weeks home passed by fast and I had to leave on the 14th of October back to Fort Riley. Mom had the baby on the 17th and they named him Edwin, but I wouldn’t see him for three years. When I got back to camp a few weeks later I told all my buddies about my new little brother.

Eight boys and four girls and a lot of mouths to feed.

Chapter 11 Going Over Seas

We loaded in trains to go over seas. The 85th, 86th, and 87th Infantry were report- ing overseas to replace the 1st Division, or “The Big Red One.” We arrived in New York three days after departing only to board on big ships. The U.S.S. Barker was my vessel. Man, it was big. It was loaded with officers, NCO, and civilians too, plus all kinds of Army equipment.

We were loaded in like sardines, four bunks high in a small room. we were told it was going to be a rough trip. The Atlantic Ocean was always rough in November. I found that out the hard way three days into the trip. Too bad it was a nine-day trip to Germany. I was still a squad leader and took good care of them. We each had a full field pack, a duffle bag, and a rifle. It’s not easy for a small guy, but I had to set the example and wouldn’t let anybody out do me.

I did get seasick though and a whole bunch of other soldiers did too. Guys were throwing up all over the place. The food was already awful and watching guys throw up all over the place made it even worse. I just stayed laying down the whole time and didn’t eat. One day a sergeant from another company told me to get a bucket and a mop and clean up all the puke around the ship or that he would send me to the brick. The brick was the front of the ship and made seasickness even worse. I looked at the puke and told him I would take my chances with the brick.

Just then our Platoon Lieutenant came up and asked what the problem was. “Sir, I ordered this Private to clean the puke but he disobeyed an order.”

“Sergeant, there is men that work on the ship that can do that.” The Sergeant, who was seemingly upset, walked away. I thanked the Lt. and laid back down. As if the sea-sickness wasn’t bad enough, we all got lice. They Army gave us some powder to put on ourselves to get rid of the lice. This has not been a party at all. I can’t walk around or even see the on-ship movies. I had to stay laying down the whole time. That was the longest nine days of my life.

We finally arrived to Germany, unloaded, then marched to the train station, and then loaded onto the trains headed for Bamberg, where we would be stationed for three years. The 86th and 87th regiments would be in other towns. We pulled into Bamberg real early in the morning. It was still dark outside and from the distance I could see tons of little lights moving around, but I couldn’t figure out what they were. I asked the Sergeant from the 2nd Platoon. He told me they were people going to work on their bikes. They didn’t have a lot of cars there.

We got to our barracks, and man, were they nice. I got a squad room all to myself. We settled in as we saw the 1st Division moving out. They had already been there for a long time and they were ready to go home.

We had a lot of classes on what we had to do there in another country. We had to wear our sharp Class A uniform when we went into town and whenever we wore civilian clothes, we had to wear a tie. Most importantly, we had to respect the people, and God help us if we didn’t, the Commanding Officer said.

We trained everyday and had a lot of classroom stuff on top of that. I still hadn’t seen Rocco, Mondragon, or my cousins yet. Rocco and Mondragon were in the Able Company and I was still in the Medical Company.

One day the 1st Sergeant called me into the office. “Tafoya,” he said. “They need a cook and I want you to report to the mess Sergeant. It will only be for a month, until the other cook gets here.”

“Just for a month?” The 1SG and I got along pretty well now. We had known each other for over 6 months and I had always been pretty straight with him. And he was pretty straight with me, and just like he said, one month later I was out of the kitchen. The new cook that came in was a Negro by the name of Sgt. Smith. In Germany, we had a German K.P., a tailor, and a German Barber. They took out $5.00 a month from our pay, but it was worth it. We had been in Bamberg for about two months before we could get a pass to go into town. We paid in scrip money, which was the same value as American money, but only it was different. We didn’t know much about German money. All I knew was our money was worth a lot more and their money was called marks.

One evening Private Defay asked me to go into town with him. He said that he had met a girl the weekend before and they had agreed to meet again, but this time she wanted to bring a girlfriend with her. I said okay, and we agreed to meet them at a guesthouse, which is like a bar, but they served food too, like a restaurant. We went in and got a table and ordered a cognac and coke. The girls never showed but we continued to stay and drink.

Defay got up and said he would be right back, and I’m not sure where he went, but I stayed there and had one more drink. Then another and another. Defay still hadn’t come back so I decided to go back to camp. I put some German money on the table. I’m not sure how much it was, I just set it on the table. I stood up and my world was spinning. I was drunk. I could barely make it to the door. I waved down a taxicab and asked him to take me back to camp. I paid him too, and again, not sure how much I gave him, but I’m sure it was enough. He smiled happily as I got out of the cab.

The guard could tell I was drunk. “The beer is a little stronger here, isn’t it?” I couldn’t answer him. I just stood stone still. The next day I felt like hell. Good thing it was Sunday and I could relax. I went over to the restroom and man, I couldn’t believe what came out of me. I never had a shit that stinky before in my life. I found out later that’s what the cognac does to you. I never have had a drink of cognac again. The German beer was pretty strong too, a lot stronger than the 3.2 beer we drank back in the states.

Two bottles here in Germany would get us drunk. We finally got used to it. We would go to this place called LaPaloma Bar. I ran into Rocco and Mondragon there all the time. We would have a couple of beers and usually end up getting in a fight with the other G.I.s.

We started to meet German girls and we would dance to the American music. I sent for my civilian clothes and it sure did feel nice to get out of the uniform. I bought some nice suits and the Japanese tailor at the camp made sure the suits we got fit us real nice. I eventually bought a topcoat and ordered about three new suits. I loved to dress sharp. One thing I found strange was the Negros had their own section of town. They couldn’t go where we went; instead they went to a place called Nuemberg Strussa. I thought because we were all soldiers we would hang out together.

I finally made Private First Class, PFC, which means I made a little more money. I still hustled a lot. I would lend money for double repayment and I didn’t smoke so I could sell my stamps for double at the end of the month. We were only allowed one carton per soldier a month and they would sell for $2.50 a carton. I still shined shoes for 50 cents and sent extra money home.

I started hanging around with this other PFC named Sam Hall. We got along real well and mostly hung out around the camp. He was in 1st Platoon and I was still in 3rd Platoon. One night he asked me to come over to Charlie Company with him because they were having a big Craps game over there. I only had $5.00 till I col- lected what the other guys owed me, but decided I would go anyway.

Sure enough, there was a big circle of guys playing. We found an opening and got in. The dice made its way around and it was Hall’s turn. He threw a few good rolls and the guy next to me says, “I bet he doesn’t hit.” I said okay, and I put my $5.00 down that he would. And he did! I let my ten dollars ride Hall hit again. Twenty dollars now. I pulled my money, and then Hall crapped out. The dice came to me and I was going to pass, but Hall told me to throw them. I decided I would give it a shot. I laid down $10 and shot. Man, I was hot. I couldn’t lose. I rolled over and over and kept on hitting. I finally crapped out when I had $20 on the table. We stuffed our pockets with our winnings and left. Hall had ended up betting on me so much that he had a whole bundle of money. We counted our winnings and I had $380 and Hall had about $560. Man was I lucky. I saved my money and Hall went to go buy a German car.

I had been in Bamberg for about a year and a half. One night I ran into Rocco and he told me there was a place called Stulluman. There were some real young chics there I heard. We went there and sure enough, a lot of young German chics and German music. These people couldn’t go to the bar in town until they were 18, so we went to them. My Mom and Dad, dacing

Anita, my wife Chapter 12 I Met Anita

It was wintertime and I was wearing my civilian clothes with my topcoat on. I spotted this really pretty and real innocent looking girl sitting there with some other girls at a table. Rocco walked into the room and ordered a beer. Rocco was eyeing this real nice looking girl. “Let’s go ask them to dance,” he said. I went up to the table where the pretty girl was sitting and asked her to dance.

“No,” she said. So, I asked the girl next to her and she stood up. We bought them a coke and I danced with that girl until the song was over. I asked her if I could walk her home when the song was over. We didn’t understand each other too well, but we managed. Her name was Erika, bright, long blond hair. She was pretty, but the one that didn’t want to dance with was prettier.

We started walking home and the “no-dancer” asked if she could walk home with us because she didn’t live too far from here friend, Erika. I call her the “no-danc- er” because I didn’t know her name yet. Erika and the other girl lived close to each other, so it was okay for her to walk home with us. Rocco had gone a different way with the girl he met.

I was walking home with the girls, one on each arm. It was cold and I told them to put their hands in my pocket. The “no-dancer” lived a couple of blocks from Erika, so we dropped her off first, and then I dropped of Erika. It was a long way back to camp so I decided I would start walking back and grab a taxi when I saw one.

When I came down the street, “no-dancer” was standing on the second floor of her building, looking out the window of her house. I looked up and she saw me. She waved and said goodnight in German. I yelled back and smiled. The next weekend, Rocco, Mondragon, and I went back to LaPaloma and met some other buddies there. Rocco had met a girl named Crista and was supposed to meet her there that night. The rest of the guys and I sat there until about 9:00 look- ing and watching the place fill up. Rocco spotted Crista. Mondragon was joking with Rocco and said, “Who, that funny red-cheeked girl?” Her and her friend’s looked too young to me. I was looking for Erika, but I then I remembered she told me she had to work that weekend. I spotted the “no-dancer” though, but this time she was dancing with a German guy. I waited till after the song was over and went over to her table and decided I would ask her to dance, again.

She understood me and stood up. “What’s your name?” I asked.

“Anita. You, Johnny?”

“Yeah,” I told her and smiled. I guessed Erika had told her my name. I noticed Crista was sitting with Rocco and our friends. Turned out that Anita knew Crista. I invited her to come sit with us and she agreed. We talked and danced until the dance was over at about midnight. I asked her if I could walk her home and she agreed to let me.

We were walking and she told me that Erika had to work that night. I didn’t care though because I was happy to be walking next to this pretty little girl. We stopped and I asked her if she would like to go see a movie with me next weekend. She asked about Erika, but I told her Erika and I were just friends and that I wanted to take her.

We were having a hard time communicating this whole time, but we somehow managed. She said she couldn’t go next weekend because she had to work, the weekend after that would be okay though. We decided we would meet in town by the movie theater. I couldn’t wait for that weekend to come and just kept hoping that nothing would come up that kept me from going.

Luck was on my side because I made Corporal and got extended privileges and a pass to go downtown. We meet each other at the theater and went in to see the movie. It was a French movie and every time a naked girl would come out, Anita would cover my eyes. I told her it was okay and that I had seen a naked girl before, but I don’t think she understood. I walked her home after the movie and we stopped at a little park by her house. We sat there and kissed for a while before she had to get home. I walked her home and thought about her all week. She had a real nice body, pretty face, and sure was nice to be with.

We kept talking and eventually a friend of hers was coming home from California. Her friend had lived there with her grandparents and learned English. It was a good thing, because she went to all the places with us and became our interpreter. I didn’t mind because she was real nice, and at least this way I could communicate with Anita.

I ran into Rocco and Mondragon and proposed that we take a fifteen-day furlough to Madrid, Spain. They agreed and we put in for it. It wasn’t easy to get a pass to go to Spain. On our papers, we said we had relatives that lived in Madrid so the Army would agree to let us go.

The time came for us to go and I gathered the money I saved from the craps game I won and my paycheck. I went over to Able Company and Rocco and Mondragon were lying there on the bunks. “Let’s go,” I told them.

“We can’t. We lost all our money in a craps game last night,” Rocco told me.

“You assholes.” I told them I was going to go without them. I had put in a second choice of going to Copenhagen, Denmark. Two other guys for the company were going so I traveled with them. It was nice and I had never seen so many blonde girls in my life and every girl was beautiful. We also went to Sweden right across the lake. Again, really beautiful people. I didn’t have that much fun though. The guys I was with were squares and I couldn’t wait to get back to Bamberg so I could be with Anita.

I got back to Germany and still had three days left on my furlough. Anita was free that weekend and it worked out perfect that I arrived early. We got to spend a lot of time together. Her friend was still with us, but Anita and I started to communicate a little better. She still to be home at eleven every night. I met her mother after a month of dating her. I thought she was an Italian when I first met her. She had dark eyes and curly hair. I met her brother, Manfred, her two-half brothers, Diter Anita’s house in Germany. I used to walk up this hill just to see her. and Herbert, who were 10 and 8, and her half-sister, Monica, who was two years old.

I hadn’t met her stepfather at that time. We had hid from him and we didn’t really tell anyone about us except her mother. It wasn’t until after eight months of dating that we told her stepfather that Anita had been dating a G.I., and a Spanish one at that. The day finally came when I was going to meet him and Anita’s mom was more excited that she was. I was invited over for dinner and I made sure I was dressed really sharp. Her step-dad and I got along real well and he was a real nice man. I got along with the family really well too. Her family would greet me when I would come and get Anita. I would let her brother Manfred my leather coat when he would go out and he sure liked it.

The medical company was going to give the rifle company their vaccine shots. We were now the HQ+HQ Medical Company, 2nd Battle Group, 10th Infantry Divi- sion. They would march the soldiers in like cattle. One day I was sitting in the corner when Lieutenant Pitrantonio, 2nd Platoon leader in our company, called me over to give his some men their shots.

One Private sat down to get his shot but he was so thin that I couldn’t do it. I would hit bone. I told the LT, but he said to do it anyways. The Private looked up at me with real sad eyes. I said no, that I wouldn’t do it. He grabbed the syringe from me and told me to wait outside. I knew I was going to get busted, but it wasn’t a big deal because it was my first time.

When all was said and done, I was called into his office and told I was traveling to the rifle company and that I would receive my orders the following day. After two years I was finally getting my chance to go into the rifle company. I used to always travel with Baker Company as a medic. Sometimes I would leave my first aid pack with my cousin Fernando and run the hills with his rifle. He always asked what he should do if someone got hurt and I told him just to call me.

The company commander from Baker Company would see me training periodical- ly and asked if I liked doing that kind of stuff. I told him I did, but they wouldn’t let me transfer over. The platoon sergeant of 2nd Platoon in Baker Company, Ser- geant First Class Gray, liked me and let me train with his soldiers. “You would make a real good squad leader,” he told me. So, as I was told, the following day after the vaccine shot incident, I was called into the 1SG’s office. “So you finally got your wish. I hate to see you leave, but I guess you weren’t meant to be a medic. You will be going to Baker Company, you have already been with that company as a medic. I’ve already called the CO and he is glad to have you. Good luck out there, do your best.”

I got some of the guys to help me move my stuff over to Baker Company. I report- ed to the 1SG. I was told I was being assigned to 2nd Platoon because SFC Gray wanted me in his platoon. I reported to SFC Gray. “Corporal Tafoya, you will be the squad leader for 2nd squad. Maybe you can handle the red-head Tafoya.”

So I ended up being my cousin’s squad leader. I was in the company for about 6 months and SFC Gray had put me up for Sergeant. We started going on maneu- vers for about a month in Wild-Flican. It was the whole division. It was Janu- ary and cold. We slept in pop-tents and were always wet. We wore some cheap Mickey-mouse boots and were always having to change socks as soon as we got wet, which was all the time. I would carry at least five pairs of socks on my body to keep my socks and me warm and would change out my socks all the time. A lot of guys were getting frostbite.

On one training exercise, they chose my squad to demonstrate. We had to charge a hill and at a certain spot, a silhouette target would pop out of a cave. We had to take it out and make it to the top of the hill. My cousin Ernest was the machine gunner and PVT Curry had the flame torch and the rest of the men and M-1 rifles. I told Curry that when we got close to the cave to blast it with the flame torch and burn the enemy out.

We started marching up the hill and were knocking down targets like fish in a bar- rel. All of sudden a dog appeared in the middle of the hill. Ernest let out a burst with the machine gun and killed it. Turns out it was Charlie Company’s mascot. I could hear all kinds of yelling coming from where Charlie Company was. Over the speaker the Battle Group Commander told everyone to knock it off.

We made it to the top of the hill and had done a great job. We got a lot of cheering and yelling. On the way back I prepared the squad for the ass chewing we were going to get for killing that dog. Sure enough, the Battalion commander called us over. “Very well. Had that been an actual enemy, that is how you would have handled it.” I could see the CO standing behind him smiling. Sgt. Gray came over and congratulated us.

There was another time we were out on a field maneuver in Wilflicon. It looked like that place from that movie with Audrey Murphy, “To Hell and Back”. It was winter and cold and there was rain and snow. We had to dig foxholes during the night, and it was raining so hard. My cousin Fernando was with me and he was worried that our hole would get full of water. I decided we would dig a little deep then put rocks on the bottom and then tree branches on top of that and that’s where we would sleep and all the water would be on the bottom and run between the rocks. We got in our sleeping bags, clothes and all, and put our ponchos on top of us. When we got up the next morning, everyone was soaking wet and Fernando and I were bone dry. The Sergeant came up to us and asked if we stayed in a ho- tel.

At the break I found out the papers had come down from HQ and I was denied my promotion to Sergeant. SFC Gray was real mad and marched over to the CO and asked what the hell had happened. He even offered to give up one of his stripes and give it to me. The CO informed us that the paperwork was just turned in too late and that I would be getting it next month. “He better,” Sgt. Gray told him.

I saw Joe Rocco driving the jeep around and stopped him. “You’re the CO’s driv- er?” He nodded and smiled. “You kiss ass.” He smiled and took off.

“Why walk when you can ride.” Rocco was still in Able Company and told me he heard about me killing Charlie Company’s mascot and the whole company wanted to go to blows with me and my guys.

“That’s okay. I know you’ll be there to help out. I gotta go. You take good care of the CO, kiss ass.” We laughed and I headed back to our post.

We were finally back and had a lot of cleaning to do. They wouldn’t let us have any passes until everything was cleaned up. I couldn’t wait to get to Anita’s house. I sure did miss her. We passed inspection and got our passes for the next week- end. I went to the PX and bought Anita a shirt, sweater, and some bloomers. I also picked up her step-Dad a cartoon of cigarettes. I now called him Papa and her mom Mutti. I gave Dieter, Herbert, and Monica some German money and left some for Manfred, who I never saw because he was always running around with his girlfriend, Maria.

I finally got my strips and headed down to LaPaloma to see the guys. It was pay day and I knew they would all be there having some beers. They were impressed to see my new stripes but I had to tell them, “Guys, don’t be expecting me to get into any more fights for you guys and sticking my head out. I’m not loosing my stripes for you ugly mutts.” I worked hard for them and wasn’t going to lose them for anybody. Rocco called me a kiss ass and I bought my friends a round and left after sharing a beer with them.

I headed over to La Palomar where Anita was waiting on me. “Let’s go get some- thing to eat,” I told her. I wanted to eat a schnitzel. We went over to the real nice place where they had American food too. Her friend was with us too. The girls ordered a hamburger and coke and I ordered a schnitzel.

I asked the girls if they wanted some dessert. The waitress came over and Anita ordered “ice.”

“No, you can’t just eat a bowl of ice for dessert,” I exclaimed. The waitress just left and came back with two bowls of ice cream. Our interpreter laughed and told me they just call it ice in Germany. “Oh, okay. I thought the two of you were just going to eat a bowl of ice.”

Later that year, Anita’s friend went back to California, so now we had to do our best to communicate. We had been dating for about a year and she was now six- teen years old. I would write home and tell my family I met a real nice German girl. I sent them pictures and when Rachel and the rest of the family saw them, they wrote back saying she was beautiful. They informed me that most of the other girls there were married now. I didn’t care because I had an even prettier one here that I loved.

It wouldn’t be too long before I had to head back to the states. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to take Anita with me to the states. I finally told her mother that I wanted to marry Anita. Her mom said she liked me and if Anita wanted to be with me, she could go to the states with me. I asked Anita to marry me and come to the states with me. She said yes!

We planned the wedding date for May 3rd. I had to ask the company commander for permission. It was a lot of paper work. I asked him and he granted permission. I told him, “Sir, I would like to marry a German girl.”

“She’s a nice girl, but kind of young, isn’t she?” He still granted it and got me started on the paperwork that had to be done. I had a friend from Taos who was now working in HQ that could help me out. He was in the Air Borne, but got hurt, so he transferred to Bamberg. He and Earnest were first cousins and would all hang out together. I went and asked for his help and he got the papers going for me.

He met Anita and told me I was a lucky guy. She was real nice and real pretty. We had to go see the Chaplain and he gave Anita and I the marriage talk. When then had to talk to the Mayor of Bamberg, who also gave us the marriage talk. We had to fill out some papers with the names of our family. I wrote my mother and father’s name and all the names of my brothers and sisters. His eyes got real big when he saw all those names.

It was 1958 and our tour was up in Germany. We had been there since November 1955. They informed us that if we were an NCO, a non-commissioned officer, that we could stay in Bamberg for 10 more months if we wanted to. I figured since I was getting married it would be good to stay for some more time, so I extended my time.

Our wedding day, May 3rd, 1958, finally came. I invited a few friends, Eli, Ear- nest, and Ernie were there, and Fernando was my best man. We were getting mar- ried in the Catholic Church and Mutti and Anita had made all the arrangements. The church was a huge cathedral and was very beautiful. Anita looked so beautiful in her wedding dress. The ceremony was almost finished. Before we left the alter, the priest said, “In the name of the father,” so I quickly replied.

“John Tafoya Sr.”. He looked strangely at me and continued.

“And in the name of the son,” so again, I replied.

“Johnny Tafoya, Jr.” The priest looked at me real wide eyed and continued.

“And the Holy Spirit.” Then it hit me. He was just blessing us and I was supposed to just repeat after him then do the sign of the cross. Man, did he give me a look. We had been kneeling the whole time and when we stood up my knees were wob- bling.

I looked over at Anita and whispered, “Did you hear what I said?” She said no and that she was too excited to hear anything. We walked to the back of the church, which seemed like a long way. I guess it was because I messed up.

We had a real nice wedding. Anita’s family and my friends were all there and all we did afterwards was eat and drink beer. I sure liked it. I could stay at Anita’s house now that we were married. I would come home in the evening and leave real early for camp. I was getting used to it and liking coming home to my wife.

But three weeks later they pulled all the NCOs in and told us our orders had been changed. We were going to report to Fort Benning, Georgia. They needed drill instructors and we would be getting recruits ready for Vietnam. Anita didn’t have her passport yet to leave the country so I told her to hurry and get one so she could meet me. I had only been married for 20 days and had to leave my wife.

I loaded the ship on the 23rd of May, 1958. The way home wasn’t that bad and the Atlantic Ocean wasn’t as rough on the return trip home. It took us nine days. All of the sergeants that extended their stay weren’t happy. “They pulled a good one on us,” they all echoed.

I’ll never forget the day I left Bamberg. Anita went to see me at the train depot re- ally early in the morning. I kissed her and told her I would write to her once I got back to the states and for her to get all her papers together. She told me, “Ich leibe dich,” which mean, “I love you,” in German.

We arrived at Ft. Benning, Georgia. We were now part of the 2nd Infantry Divi- sion. We got our first bunch of troops. I was now an assistant Platoon Sergeant. We trained those poor troops from three in the morning till midnight. The first batch we trained were being sent over to work as advisors to the South Vietnam- ese.

Before we started training, Fernando, Earnest and I came home on a fifteen-day leave to Taos. I saw my youngest little brother, Edwin who was now three. The rest of the brothers and sisters were in school, and Rachel and Evan were living in Santa Fe and were married. Arthur was in Los Angeles working at a steel mill. He also wrecked my 1948 Ford. I stayed home for a week then headed to Denver by bus to buy a car. I grabbed Fernando and Earnest to come with me. I bought a 1951 Mercury for $350. We drove it back to Taos so we could grab our clothes and head back to Fort Benning. They had signed up for four years and still had ten months left. They were both Private First Classes. They were in different units and we didn’t see each other much once we got back to camp. When we got back to camp, I was informed that our platoon sergeant had to leave and as a result I was the new platoon sergeant.

It was the end of August when Anita got her papers. She was able to get them so soon because she was so young. Had she been over eighteen, it would have taken a lot longer. She came by airplane and was pregnant, so she got real sick. She ar- rived in New Jersey. She couldn’t fly anymore because she was getting too sick. The Red Cross called me and told me they were sending her by train to Columbus, Georgia.

When she finally arrived to Columbus, Georgia, I couldn’t go pick her up. I was in N.C.O. School and they wouldn’t let me out. I had to ask a friend’s wife to pick her up at the train station. His name was Sgt. Espino and his wife, Rose Marie, was real nice. He had worked in the Medical Company with me. He was from California. They picked up Anita and I got off duty around 7:30 that night. I drove my car to Espino’s apartment.

I saw Anita, who looked wore out from a combination of the trip and the hot tem- perature in Georgia. It was so hot and humid and she had never been in a place like that before. She was a little round, but still so beautiful. We ate supper at Espino’s then headed to our apartment.

I found a real nice apartment for her to come home to. I bought furniture and pots and pans and all the other things we would need. I even bought a whole living room set, bedroom set, and dinning room set for $399. I had everything ready for her when she got there, except for food because I had been staying at the camp till she got there.

I was off the next day and that was a good thing because we needed to go and get groceries. I took her the commissary where she saw things that she had never seen before and bought things she never ate before. I let her put whatever she wanted in the basket. We had a trunk load of groceries. I had to be at camp at 3:00 a.m. and wouldn’t be back until 12:30 a.m. everyday. It was hard on Anita at first, just sitting around the apartment all day by herself. I asked her if she was homesick and sad, but she just looked at me and said, “No. I have you.” We loved each other and were just so happy.

The day had come to take her to the hospital. She had to stay for 3 weeks because she was so small and had to put on a few pounds before the baby was born. On October 6, 1958, our daughter was born. I was now in C.B.R. School for a week and I couldn’t go to the hospital. Our baby was three days old before I could make it to the hospital to see her. At the time, I didn’t even know if it was a boy or a girl. I talked to the nurse in charge. “I’m Sgt. Tafoya, and I believe I have a new son or daughter that was born here.”

“Let’s see here,” she said, “There were seven girls and one boy.”

“I bet that boy is mine,” I said.

“No. You have a new daughter.” She took me to see Anita. She looked good and real happy. I walked in and she told me we had a new daughter and I said I knew, happily. The nurse left to get the baby from the nursery. They brought her in with a red ribbon in her hair. She was all Spanish. Whoo, did she have hair and it was dark black. She was beautiful.

I took them home. We had bought baby stuff already. Anita was so happy with her baby. We had picked out names for a boy and a girl. We decided to name her Loretta Angela. We asked Eli and his wife Dolores to baptize her. Eli and Dolores have three little boys, Benito, David, and Eli Jr.

We had a nice time together. We prepared a good lunch and drank a bottle of wine. The day was over and we had a baptized little girl. At one point Anita thought it would be a good idea to take the baby and herself and stay with my mother and family so she could learn to cook the way I liked. Well, also, so she could have some company and have help with the baby. It made sense since I was only home for three hours a day and on the weekends we had inspections.

The men in my platoon gave me money so that I could buy Angela some things and I took the baby to see the men at camp one day. It was December, and Angela was 3 months old. I had a fifteen-day furlough for Christmas and went home to Taos. I rented a U-Haul so I could put all the baby furniture in it and pulled it with the Mercury.

We got as ready as we could and Anita made a bunch of milk bottles. We left Columbus and drove straight through to Taos. I didn’t want to stop because I was afraid the weather would change. It was winter and I was afraid to pull the U-Haul if snow started to fall with a little baby in the car. The only time I would stop was to warm the baby bottles. I would put the baby bottles in the radiator to warm. I would stop and take the radiator cap off and put a bottle in the radiator and drive a few miles. Then I would stop and get out the warm bottle and continue on driv- ing.

After driving for a day and a half, Anita told me we had to stop and bathe the baby because she was getting a rash. We stopped at a motel and I slept for about three hours, cleaned up, and we were on the road again. Thank God we were still having good weather. We hit a little snow in Oklahoma, but it wasn’t bad.

We kept stopping to warm up Angela’s baby bottles in the radiator. We got to Springer, New Mexico. I told Anita we were about four hours from Taos, but I couldn’t drive that fast pulling the U-Haul. It was dark by the time we got to Springer. I saw a sign that said Cimarron. I knew I was only 65 miles to Taos. It was a dirt road at the time. After a while I realized we were going the wrong way and needed to find a place to turn around. The road was really narrow and I couldn’t find one. I finally found a gate and turned around in a field and drove back to Springer. We found a different road and drove to Taos. We made it in about eleven o’clock at night.

Everybody was asleep. Mom opened the door and everybody got up and came out. They wanted to see what a German girl looked like and the new baby too. Mom held the baby and told us she looked cute. Dad looked at her and said, “She’s all Tafoya.”

Mom liked Anita right away. The whole family just looked at Anita. She was so pretty with her bright blue eyes. Dad asked me if I drove straight through and thought I was crazy for it. The time went by fast and I had to go back to camp. I left the car there and took the bus back. I told Anita not to let anybody use the car. Arthur had already wrecked two of my cars, but good thing he wasn’t in Taos right then. But Gill had started driving, and didn’t want a third car to be wrecked.

I had three months to go and I would be discharged March 31, 1959. I returned back to Fort Benning, Georgia. In two weeks, the first set of recruits would be ship- ping out to Vietnam and we would be getting another bunch real soon. I was once again the assistant platoon sergeant and SFC Gray was our Platoon sergeant.

One evening Sgt. Gray invited Sgt. Jones and myself for a few beers. We mostly went to the N.C.O. Club but that night we headed into town wearing our Class A. We went to a club called Victory Club, which was real dead so we headed across the street to a place called Horseshoe Diamond. As we were crossing the street, two police officers standing next to their squad car called us over.

Sgt. Gray told us not to say a word. The cops asked what we were doing there and told us to spread eagle. They frisked us and told us they were taking us into protective custody. They loaded the three of us into the back of the cop and took us to the station.

They called the Provost Marshall and two M.P.s came to pick us up. They took us back to the Provost Marshall Office back on the base and called our 1SG. He came in a looked at us. “You’re not even drunk. What the heck did you get picked up for?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Sgt. Gray said. The city cops had it in for us soldiers. A lot of good sergeants had gotten picked up for no reason. The next day we had to go see the Company Commander. First he talked to Sgt. Gray, then Sgt. Jones, then me.

“Sgt. Tafoya, reporting as ordered, sir.” “Sgt. Jones and Gray told me that nothing had happened. I have been looking at your filling record and you have done great. I see you only have one more month in your enlistment. I don’t want you going into town for the rest of your enlist- ment. You have worked hard for those stripes and I don’t want you to lose them for something that’s not worth it.”

I thanked him and turned to walk out the door. “Oh, sergeant. I owe you twenty bucks. You scored the highest on the B.A.R. and I promised the highest shooter twenty dollars.” I thanked him and left.

The day came to leave the Army and I returned all my Army stuff. I got all my paper work done. The recruits I had the past three months all pitched in and got me a nice radio. It was the second bunch that I trained that was being shipped off to Vietnam.

Before I left, the 1SG called me in to see if I would re-enlist. He said they would make me a SFC and I would be going to Vietnam as an advisor. I told the 1SG that if I were not married I would go, but I had a young wife that didn’t speak or understand much English and a five-month-old baby. I loved the Army, but I just couldn’t re-enlist. I finished saying my good-byes and took the bus home.

I think if I hadn’t gotten married I would have stayed in the Army for thirty years. That was the best thing that ever happened to me. I loved every bit of it. For one thing I would have never met the German woman that I made my wife. I thank God for sending me to the Army and to Germany.

The Cathedral where Anita and I were married photo taken 2007 Chapter 13 Civilian Life

I arrived home on April 2nd, 1959. I thought that the bus was never going to make it. I couldn’t wait to get home and see Anita and Angela. I got home about nine o’clock. Anita flew out the door when she heard me come up. Angela had grown up and she looked so pretty.

The next week I would be going to Pueblo, Colorado to go to Barber school. I took Anita, Angela, and Mom with me. Mom’s youngest brother, Uncle Joe and his wife, Roslie, and their five kids all lived there.

We arrived at Uncle Joe’s house. I left the women there and went to go and check on the barber college. I talked to the instructor and he told me that I wouldn’t be able to enroll for five or six months because they were a small college and full. I went across the street to get a beer and saw a guy from Taos who almost ended up being my brother-in-law, Gus Garcia. He was going to marry my sister Evan, but id didn’t happen.

He saw me and waved me over and said hello. I sat with him and his friend and they ordered me a beer. He asked what I was doing and I told him that I had just gotten out of the Army and came to Pueblo to attend Barber College. Turns out he worked at the Army Ordinance Depot, a steel mill, but they weren’t hiring. He told me I should go down and put in an application anyway.

I went down to the personal office and did just that. They told me to wait a while and a man came out and called me into his office. “I see you just got out of the Army,” he said.

I told him I had just gotten out a week before and needed a job to take care of my wife and new baby. He told me to come in the following Monday and take a physical. He told me that if I passed I would come to work on Tuesday. I came out and Gus was waiting outside for me. He asked how it went so I told him. We went and celebrated by having another beer then went home.

I went home and told the family what happened. Roslie told me that C.F.&I., the mill where I applied to, paid real well. Uncle Joe told me that if I got hired that I could stay with them until I found my own place. I took Anita and Angela back to Taos the next day and drove back to Pueblo on Sunday for my physical on Monday morning.

I arrived at the physical office at eight-thirty in the morning. Naturally, I passed with flying colors and was to report for work on Tuesday the 14th of April in the Grader Blade department. It was part of the bolt mill and the spike mill. I had to buy a pair of steal toe shoes and work gloves. They would at least provide the safety helmet and safety glasses.

I went to Uncle Joes house and told them I got hired. They were really happy and told me to stay with them until I found my own place. The first day on the job, the foreman told me to grab a push broom, wheel-burrow, and a shovel and start cleaning the floors. It was real noisy and dirty and the pay was $1.80 an hour. In Taos, the best pay would only have been $1.35 and hour, and those jobs were rare and hard to come by.

Anyways, I was sweeping and this guy came up to me and said, “Hey, shadow, where you from?” I told him I was from Taos and he told me he was from Las Trampas, New Mexico. “Here, everyone has a nickname. They call me Caballo.” I could see why, he had a face like a horse. He then proceeded to tell me all the nicknames of all the other workers.

I worked for two weeks until I found I an apartment for my family. It was a small apartment on the north side of Pueblo. I drove up to it for the first time and knocked on the door. A lady opened the door and I introduced myself. She told me to hold on so she could talk to her husband. He had heard me introduce myself to his wife and that was enough for him. He told her to let me have it.

“You want to take a look at it?” he asked. “Yes, sir. My name is Johnny Tafoya and I just got a job at C.F.&I.”

“I’m Aaron Speakman. I work for the railroad.” He was real tall and skinny man who reminded me of Gary Cooper.

She showed me the small apartment. He told me it was a garage at one point and perfect for a single person. I explained that I had a wife and child, but I liked it so I took it. We both said okay, and that was that. The rent was thirty-seven dollars a month. I went back to my Aunt and Uncle’s and told them that I found an apart- ment. She told me that the north side was a real safe and nice neighborhood and a lot of rich people lived up there.

That following weekend I went to Taos to get my wife and daughter. We packed only what we could fit in the car, left Taos Sunday afternoon, and arrived in Pueblo late that night. The Speakmans were awake so I introduced them to Anita and Angela. They all liked each other right away. They sure did like Angela, perhaps because they never had children of their own.

I went to work everyday. One week I worked days and the next week I worked the graveyard shift. One day the old timers told me to save my money because they were going on strike July 1st. I had only been there three months and didn’t even know what a strike was, but I just did what they said and saved what I could. Anita was really careful and really good with the money I earned for us.

July 1st came and we walked out on strike. I told that landlords that I had to go back to Taos because of the strike and they said they would hold the apartment for me until I got back. I thanked them because we didn’t know how long the strike would last. It could be a day, a week, or even a month. Turns out it lasted five months.

I came to Taos and worked for Dad sometimes and hauled wood to sell. Dad had an old truck and that’s what I used to haul wood. Mom and Dad saved all the money I sent them while I was in the Army and totaled $2,200. Dad handed it to me and I only looked at him for a minute. “This was supposed to be for you to help you out.”

“We didn’t need it. I was working real steady. It was yours and I knew you would need it someday.” I thanked him and used the money to fix up an old house he had given me. It was a four-room house. Dad gave me two rooms and Arthur the other two, but Arthur gave it all to me. It needed a lot of work. I told Arthur I wanted to pay him for his half but he said no.

“Let me give you at least a hundred for it,” I told him and handed him $100 in front of Mom and Dad. The next day Dad went to make the papers. We lived in the two rooms and I got real busy fixing it up. I put in a bathroom, electricity, windows, and cabinets that I made myself.

Well, I made the cabinets too small and the plates wouldn’t fit and the door wouldn’t close all the way. I had to make some new ones so I took Anita with me to get more wood in Carson and left Angela with Mom. We got up to the mountains, took a saw and cut some wood and made a few piles. I got everything loaded up, but the truck wouldn’t start. I tried everything to make it, but it just wouldn’t turn. It was getting late and I knew we had to start walking before it got too dark. At first, Anita thought it was funny, but three miles down the road she wasn’t laugh- ing anymore.

We came along a sheepherder’s camp. It was someone I knew and he gave us some water. We kept going until we hit the main dirt road. I saw a truck and flagged them down. I knew them too and told them what happened, so they offered to give us a ride all the way home.

The next day I asked my neighbor, Vito Anglada, if he could take me back to my truck to see if I could get it to start. I told him he could have a load of wood. He took me back to my truck. I put the key in the ignition and I couldn’t believe it, but it started. We loaded the wood. About half way through the load I started feeling really dizzy and weak. I told Vito to drive behind me on the way back just in case I passed out.

We made it home and I walked straight to bed, sweaty, dirty and all. Anita took good care of me. I was in bed for three days. I guess I had some kind of flu or something. Once I finally got out of bed, I went and sold the wood for twenty dol- lars.

The five months since the strike passed and they called us back to work. I called the Speakman’s and asked if the apartment was still available, and it was. It was November and real cold. I did find out though that we got a raise. Yep. We were now getting paid $1.90 an hour. Five months on strike for a ten cent raise. We did get some better benefits though. I worked real steady after that for about ten months before I got laid off.

We went back to Taos and were eligible to draw unemployment and got $40 a week. One afternoon I went to the unemployment office and saw a man there named Eddie Martinez. He had found a job for me.

I went to work doing roofing on a car sales building. It was December and it sure was cold. We finished the job and I was earning $1.50 an hour. It was just a little more than what I was making receiving unemployment. Anita was saving our money from whatever job I got. We never knew from one day to the next if and when I would be making and how much I would get paid. She wouldn’t even buy herself a pair of shoes. She would walk around in a pair of shower shoes that were held together by strings.

We saved enough money to buy a T.V. that we bought at western autos. It was an old black and white T.V., but now Anita had something to entertain her while I was away working. We only had one chair in the house, so whenever I got home, I got to sit in the chair.

On the weekends we would go to the park and sometimes go and visit Uncle Joe and Aunt Roslie. Jasmine, their daughter, had recently been married and were going to leave Pueblo. Her husband, David Sanchez, was a barber and lived in Florence, Colorado, about twenty miles away from Pueblo. Anita and Jasmine got along real well and David and I got along really good too. I told him that I wanted to be a barber and that I used to cut everyone’s hair in the neighborhood, but ended up in the still mill. “One day, one day,” I told him. I was hoping that one day I would get a chance to go to barber college.

David and Jasmine eventually had a baby girl and asked us to baptize her. We were really happy to be their compadres. We named the baby Reneda and she was real cute.

I was making it really good at the mill and was able to start running the crane, which paid more than $1.90 an hour. When the grader blade department slowed down, they would send us to the bolt mill or the spike mill. Work was work and there were no layoffs.

My Aunt Roslie told me there was a small house for rent nearby where they lived and it was only a few blocks from work. We looked at it and it was forty dollars a month. We decided to take it and I told the Speakmans who were real happy for us because it would save the driving time. They even came to look at it with us to make sure it was a good place. He told me I better take it and that he was going to miss us. They were crazy about Angela.

We moved to the new house and were there for about a year before I got laid off. We got laid off again and I went back to Taos. I wanted to do some more work on the house. I went back to the unemployment office to open a new claim. Eddie Martinez sent me on another job.

This time it was for an outfit that was going to work on a road in Tres Piedras. I worked with a man and I would carry a steal plate sixteen inches by sixteen inches and two inches thick, a hundred foot cord, and a sledge hammer. I walked around and beat on the plate with the hammer all day long. I worked there for about two months. The man I worked with was real nice. He told me that the next job that came around he would set me up real good. He would get me a job driving trucks, delivering paperwork, and running errands.

They never did get the bid for the other job he was talking about though. I was called back to work in Pueblo in December where it was real cold and the steel mill was even colder, but I needed the job and the pay was okay. Unfortunately, I worked for two weeks before there was yet another layoff. The steel mill lost an- other contract and there were no openings in any other departments. It got to the point I never even unloaded the car anymore.

I told Anita what they did was the shits. They called us back for two weeks, then laid us off again, and right before Christmas. We were broke. I went to the First State Bank to borrow $100. We had money in the Credit Union in Pueblo, but we couldn’t pull it out and I needed the money at that moment. I talked to the loan officer, Ben Tenorio, and he told me they could not loan me the hundred dollars. “Why the heck not. I saved over two thousand dollars in this bank while I was in the Army.”

“Sorry. You need a co-signer.” Well, we didn’t buy presents that year for Christ- mas. Anita made some cookies and we took them to the family for Christmas.

I couldn’t do much to the house now. There wasn’t enough money, but I would be getting $40 a week soon. There were no jobs in Taos in the winter and we had to be real careful with our money. We used a kerosene stove for heat, which didn’t cost much, but it smelled awful. I would go hunt deer for meat to feed the family and would sell a load of wood every once in awhile for extra money.

We were now entering a New Year, January 1963. Angela was five-years-old and we were all crazy about each other.

Mom and Anita. December 1955 Me and Angela (above); my two favorite girls (below) Chapter 14 Heading To California

It was January and the weather was pretty good. There wasn’t a lot of snow, but it was cold. Aunt Corina came to visit Dad and Mom. We went over to talk to her and I introduced Anita and Angela to her.

“So this is the pretty German girl you brought over. I’ve heard a lot about her. Boy, she is pretty. And Angela, she is all Tafoya.” She told us she was leaving to Los Angeles in the morning by train. I decided that we should take her so she wouldn’t have to ride the train. It had been almost three years since I had seen Arthur and there wasn’t any work to do in Taos.

Aunt Corina told us to take some stuff to get started with, like bedding and dishes. She said that I could find a job there. So I packed three cups, three plates, three sets of silverware, two skillets, and Anita packed us some bedding and towels. We didn’t take many clothes and we really didn’t have that much anyways. We couldn’t take much; I only had a 1953 Oldsmobile.

We took off the next morning. Aunt Corina told us she would help pay for the gas. We drove straight through except for the few times when we stopped to eat. Angela was always hungry and she loved french fries.

We got to Los Angeles around eleven o’clock and we stayed at Aunt Corinia’s. The next day we went to Arthur’s and saw all the boys. Everyone was real happy to see me and meet Anita and Angela. We joked with them all and told them to go to Germany and get themselves a girl like Anita.

Uncle Abenico was real happy to see me and told me I shouldn’t have a hard time finding a job. I told him I didn’t want to work in a bakery like I did the last time I was in California ten years ago. He didn’t even want that anymore. He told me they were stuffed with all the pastries I would bring them. I saw Gilbert and met his wife, Elma, whom I had never met. Arthur had a boy and two girls, Lloyd, Lora, and Leanne.

The following Monday, Arthur took me to a place where they were hiring. I filled out an application and since I had experience working in a steel mill, I was hired. The place was called Baron Industries. They made all sorts of detergents for clean- ing motors, everything from big trucks to airplanes. I started working the next day making $1.80 an hour, just like in Pueblo, Colorado.

There was also a friend from Taos named Coy Trujillo working there. He was the one that I defended from a fight back in Taos in 1954. He was real happy to see me and we talked about Taos and what we had done the past years. He got married to a girl named Margaret from Taos and had two boys, Richard Jr. and Paul.

We found a place to rent. It was a nice house and rent was $70 a month. It wasn’t too far from Arthur’s house so we were able to visit each other all the time. I had been working for Baran Industries for about three months. One day Arthur came over to the house, because we didn’t have a phone and if you wanted to talk to someone you had to visit them. He told me that there was a position at Cal. Steel, a union shop that paid $2.45 an hour. I went there the next morning, filled out and application and got hired. He asked when I wanted to start and I told him that day. I just needed time to go home and get my work clothes.

First, I went over to Baron Industries and talked to the foreman, Frank. “Frank,” I said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you guys a two weeks notice, but I got a new job that will pay me $2.45 an hour.”

“That’s good. But we were going to give you a 10 cent raise next week.” I told him good-bye and went back to Cal. Steel. That evening I went home and told Anita I got a higher paying job. She was happy. The job was dirty, but the pay was good.

One evening Arthur came over and told me to go and get shrimp with him from this place called Johnny’s Shrimp Boat. They had the best shrimp you have ever eaten. It was downtown on 5th street. We couldn’t find parking close so we had to park on 1st street. As we were passing 2nd Street, I noticed a Barber College open at nights and I went to check it out.

I went in and asked who the instructor was and said I needed to talk to him. Some- one took me to his office. His name was Lewis and he was a little man and gave me all the information I needed. The next week I went back to enroll.

We continued walking to the Shrimp Boat and on 3rd Street was another portion of the Barber College and there I noticed an old friend from the Army. Joe Rocco. I walked pass the window backed up. He spotted me and waved me in. Turns out he had been in the college for almost a year and was going to finish in two weeks.

He was so excited to see me. In fact he was cutting a little boy’s hair and told him, “Okay, you’re done. Get outta here.” I pointed out that he had only cut half the kid’s hair. He told the instructor that he was taking a break and we went to the bar next door. I introduced him to Arthur and we shared stories with him about our time in the service.

Chapter 15 Barber College

I gave Joe our address and he came over after school around 10:30 that night. I didn’t tell Anita anything. I wanted it to be a big surprise for her. She knew some- thing was wrong because I kept looking out the window. She finally asked what was wrong because I couldn’t sit still. “Oh, I ate too much shrimp I guess.”

The doorbell rang and I told Anita to answer the door because I had to use the re- stroom. Anita opened the door and there on the other side of the screen door were two big eyes looking at her. Joe told her something about being a salesperson. Anita came running down the hall, “Johnny, Johnny, it’s Joe Rocco. Look who’s here. It’s Joe Rocco!” We all cracked up laughing. “No wonder you were so ner- vous,” she told me.

We talked for about two hours. He had to go home and see his wife. He married his high school sweetheart, Mary Anne and had a daughter named Terry. We made plans for us all to get together one day. He worked at the service station during the day and went to barber college at night.

I enrolled at the barber college the following week and by then Joe had finished up everything but about 40 hours. He had quit coming to school though. I stopped by the service station to find out what was up. “I’m on my way to school. So how come you’re not coming anymore.”

“I got into with that kool-aid instructor. I’m not going back,” he told me.

“But Joe, one more week. That’s all you need. Don’t give up.” But he refused even after I told him what a blast we would have together. But Joe Rocco never went back to finish. He got a better job at the tile factory. We still hung out all the time though. We would get together for barbeques, dances, and days at the beach. It was real nice because Anita and MaryAnn got along real good.

I worked all day at the Cal. Steel. I started work at 7:30 a.m. and got off at 5:00 p.m. I would get home and Anita would have the tub ready, a lunch packed, and clean clothes waiting. I would wash and change and rush down to the barber col- lege. It was six miles from the house.

I started Barber College on March 11, 1964. I had to earn 1,250 hours. I had to split that time between practical work and classroom time. We learned how to do haircuts, shaves, shampoos, face massages, and then the class lecture.

You started in the beginning department, and then advanced to the junior depart- ment, and then when you got good, they moved you to the senior department. It was our second night of practical work and an instructor put a customer in my chair. “Well, let’s see what you can do,” he told me. “Don’t worry if you make a mistake, it’s free.”

I looked around at what all the other students were doing with their students. Man, what a mess. The ones that got a shave were full of blood and nicks and the hair- cuts looked like a chicken had plucked their heads. We would practice on winos on skid row, and there were many. I felt sorry for them. They were always asking for money and I would help with what I could, but sometimes I didn’t even have a dime left for a coke.

Well, I finished the haircut and the instructor checked it out. “Who helped you with this haircut?” he asked me.

“No one.”

“Man, that’s good. Pick up your tools and go to the junior department.” He told the boss and the other instructors about the haircut I had given and they came over to watch me cut the next person’s hair. They asked if I cut hair before and I told him that growing up I cut my seven brother’s hair, and the other kids in the neigh- borhood.

“I used hand held clippers though. These electric clippers are nice,” I told them.

“You’re a real natural.”

I had been putting out more haircuts than any other student. One night I had to do a shave, but I had never shaven anyone with a straight razor before. I got this wino to work on and man did he smell bad. I started cutting and the wino kept wincing and “oohing and ouching.” I called the instructor over and told him there was something wrong with the blade. He tried it out and said it was fine. The wino was even saying, “Man, that’s better.” The instructor told me I was supposed to slide the razor and not cut straight down. I was cutting straight through. I asked if I could go back to the free department and get the class on shaving. He told me that was okay and that my haircutting was fine; it was just my shave that needed work. I went back to the free department for about two weeks and boy, did I learn to shave those winos.

After that, I was sent to the senior department where we charged 60 cents a haircut and 40 cents a shave. The money went to the college for supplies. I had to pay $500 for my tuition, which I paid in payments. I had missed the G.I. Bill by three months.

Six months had passed and I had a lot of customers that would wait on me. I would cut the instructor’s hair and even the bosses’, Mr. Lewis. I studied really good and kept all my notes from everything. The class was hard. There were some words I couldn’t even pronounce, but every chance and every Sunday I would hit the books. I never missed a class. It was every Saturday for eight hours.

I started cutting this detectives hair for over four months. I liked cutting his hair and asked if he would be my model when I had to take my final test. He said sure and from then on, I would give him free haircuts and shaves. He was a perfect model.

The time had come. I had all my hours and I would be taking my final tests at the end of October. I had already talked to Sgt. Bean, the detective and my model. He said he would come with a three-day beard just so he would look scruffy.

I took my written exam and my oral exam. I was a little worried about my oral exam because nobody knew what they were going to ask, but I did real good. I felt great about the whole process. All that was left was the practical exam that I knew I would pass with a perfect score. The instructors told us to be ready with our model when our number was called. There were about two hundred students taking the exams from all over California.

It was getting close for my number to be called but my model hadn’t shown up yet. I kept watching to see if Sgt. Bean came in, but nope, he never did show. They called my number. I told them my model was a police detective and that he would be in shortly. The instructor was mad and just told me to send in the next person. I waited about thirty minutes and in came Sgt. Bean. “Sorry, I’m late,” he said. “We got caught up in a robbery.”

I didn’t waste anytime. I took my model to the examiner. “My model is here!”

He looked at him and frowned. “You can’t use him,” he said, “there isn’t enough hair on the back of his head.” I knew there was enough hair on his head. He was just pissed off at me. “Go get yourself another model and come back tomorrow.”

Sgt. Bean felt real bad. We walked out to the street together and he wished me luck. I looked over and saw this wino walking towards me. “Hey, you want a free haircut and shave?”

“No, I don’t have time,” he said. I couldn’t imagine what else he had to do, but I offered him five dollars. “Okay, I got time.”

I walked back into the exam room and told the examiner I found a model. He looked at him and I knew that he couldn’t say there wasn’t enough hair on his head. “Okay, that’ll do. Get the first chair right under the platform.” There were two examiners walking around and watching me real close. But it didn’t bother me none. I just went right to work on that wino and hoping he had a good head for a haircut and wouldn’t pass out. I gave him a nice haircut, shave, face massage, and shampoo, and finished in good time.

I raised my hand and the three examiners came to check my work. Two of them didn’t say anything. The third one, the one who was already mad at me, checked really good and managed to find a small whisker above his lip. The wino looked real good. I packed up my tools and we headed out together. I gave the model the five bucks I promised and we thanked each other. Did I already mention that he looked real nice? “Say, why don’t we go inside that bar over the street and get a beer.”

“You buying?” he asked.

“Sure. You were a good model.”

I got home and Anita asked how I did. I told her the whole story and that I was going to barely make it or barely miss it. I had to wait ten days before I would get my results. I went back to working and I was pretty worried about how I was go- ing to do. The day came and I was waiting at home. I saw the mailman coming and I waited for him on the porch.

He came up and told me the President had been shot in Dallas. I asked how bad he was and he told me that he was dead and that he had gotten shot in the head. He handed me the mail, but I was pretty shook up. I wanted to run up and down the street and let everyone know that President Kennedy had been killed.

Anita wasn’t home. She was at work. I put the mail down on the table and I didn’t even check if my results were there. I just kept thinking about the President be- ing killed. I finally checked my mail and my results were there. I opened it and looked inside. I had passed and with a real high score. I should have been a lot more excited, but I just kept thinking about the President being killed and trying to figure out why someone would want to do that.

We didn’t have a television so I didn’t know what was going on. Anita got home from work and was crying. I hugged her and she told me she heard President Ken- nedy had been killed. I told her the mailman told me. We stayed there hugging for a good while.

Then she looked up at me. “Did you get your results?” I shook my head. “Well, how did you do?”

“I got a real high score,” and just like that she started crying again.

“Let’s go get Angela from school.” The next day I was called to the barber college. I didn’t know what for. I went in and saw Mr. Lewis and another instructor. They congratulated me and informed me that I had almost broken the record. I missed it by two points. Had I gotten those points I would have had the highest score in California. I told them about what happened with my model and they figured that is what did me in.

Mr. Lewis offered me a job if I wanted it. He knew this real nice guy that had a real good shop in Alhambra by the name of Tony Venti. I told him that would be fine. I lived in El Sereno, not too far from Alhambra. Mr. Lewis told me he would call him and let him know I was going to go and work for him.

I went to see Tony Venti. “So you’re the best barber they had in school, huh?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m just learning.” I started work that week and went dressed real sharp everyday. It was an Italian section of town, so you had to look good. I gave my two weeks notice at Cal. Steel and they told me that it was a better job than steel work. I told them where I would be cutting hair and a bunch of workers came to get haircuts from me and kept me informed on what was going on at the mill.

I worked for Tony for about a year. Tony started doing real estate and was taking a lot of time up for the barbershop. As a result, he had to hire another man because a master barber had to always be at the shop. I was only an apprentice and had to work under a master barber for eighteen months before I could go for my Master License. The old barber he hired was named Bill Davis and he was the meanest old man I had ever seen. How he became a barber was beyond me. I built my cliental and stayed busy all day. Haircuts cost two dollars and I got seventy percent.

One day I was sitting in my barber chair and Bill was standing looking out the win- dow. In came a new customer. I had just finished a customer and it was Bill’s turn. The guy came in the shop and stood in the middle of the shop and Bill didn’t even turn around. The guy asked if I would cut his hair and I said sure and he sat down in my chair. I finished his haircut, the guy paid me and gave me a tip and left.

Bill turned around. “That was my customer,” he said.

“He waited for you and you never even turned around. So he asked me to cut his hair.”

“Well, I’m tired of baby-sitting you.”

“You don’t have to baby sit me. I’ll just leave.” So, I packed my tools and left. That night Tony called me. By that time, we had gotten a phone. I told him what happened. He said he would find another master barber and fire Bill so I could come back to the shop. I said okay, but it would have to happen soon because I needed a job.

The next day I went to a barbershop in El Sereno. It was called Mike’s Barber Shop. I talked to Mike and he said he could use a barber. He asked when I wanted to start and I told him right now. It was a busy shop. We stayed busy all day. It was a cut-rate shop. Haircuts only cost $1.80 and I still got seventy percent of that. I had to cut a lot of hair to make enough money.

Anita was working too. She had a hard time with names and spelling. I had to teach her every night how to spell and pronounce people’s names. She was doing real good. She made $1.25 an hour. We didn’t spend much and were able to save a little each week.

My brother Gill moved out to L.A. and moved in with us. I charged him ten dol- lars a week for room and board. But he never paid for toilet articles and Anita would wash and iron his clothes. I figured that I was loosing out. One evening I told him that I would have to charge him more than ten dollars a week. He got mad and moved out and moved in with Joe Ben. Later he admitted that it sure was expensive to live.

My brother Louie has finished school and of course he came to L.A. too. He found a job at a camera shop and he and some guys from Taos moved in with one another.

I continued to work for Mike and stayed there for about a year. He wanted to start opening the barbershop on Mondays. We were already working ten to twelve hours a day. I told him I wouldn’t work on Mondays because I had to spend time with my wife and daughter. One day Arthur came over and told us about a new job opportunity that was hap- pening. A steel factory was being opened in Pomona, which was about thirty-five miles north of L.A. They were building pontoons for Vietnam and steel for build- ings for service stations. They would pay $2.75 an hour plus a lot of over time.

I told Mike about it and he said he didn’t blame me for wanting to take that job. He didn’t understand why I would want to drive the extra miles everyday when currently I was only three blocks from work. I had to make money though and that was the bottom line.

I got hired at Pasco Steel right away. There were a lot of other guys there that I had worked with at Cal Steel. We worked ten to fourteen hours everyday. It was hard, but the check sure was nice. I worked there for about a year and half. I quit so I could go back to barbering. I got a job in Highland Park at a place called Jake’s Barber Shop. The reason I decided to go back to barbering was so that I could get my Masters License, go back to Taos, and open my own shop.

I had my eighteen months working for a master barber as an apprentice and I was ready to take my exam for my Masters. I took Curry as my model and I passed with flying colors. I worked for about three more months at Jake’s. He didn’t even offer to give me a raise or more commission now that I was a master barber. He was paying us one Saturday. He looked at me and said, “You know you sure have brought a lot of cliental.”

“I have my masters now, so how about a raise to seventy-five percent. “ He said no, and that the only person he gave seventy-five percent to was Joe. By that time Curry had left and another barber was brought on, Charlie. He tired to open his own four-chair shop, but it failed.

Charlie knew of my situation and asked if I wanted to buy the equipment. He said it was costing him just to keep it in storage. I told him that I wanted to go and see it that evening. We went and saw it and I liked it all. I asked him how much he wanted for it all. “Give me $1,250 for it,” he said. It sounded like a lot but it was worth it and I took it. I told Anita about it and she said it was good and that we had the money saved up for it. So, that weekend I picked up my barbershop equipment and stored it in my garage at home. I told Jake that since he didn’t want to give me a raise that I would leave him that weekend coming. When the weekend came, Jack approached me and said that he thought it over and decided he was going to give me a raise. I told him it was too late and that I was going back to New Mexico.

I rented a U-Haul trailer and Anita packed up all the house stuff. I bought a 1966 G.M.C. truck when I was working in Pomona. It was the first new thing I have ever bought and it cost us $2,100.

Arthur, Gill, and Louie came over to help us load up and we left L.A. that evening. I got on the freeway and could only go forty-five miles and hour. The load was too much on the trailer and I would start swinging when I went faster than that. It was an okay trip, but we weren’t in any hurry. We would stop and rest then go for a few more miles.

Me and Joe Rocco Me and Anita Chapter 16 Back To Taos

We arrived in Taos without any trouble. We unloaded the barbershop equipment in one of the bedrooms and the rest of the furniture throughout the rest of the house. Dad was working real steady and needed a helper. I went back to work right away mixing plaster. I started looking for a barber job at the local shops. The La Fonda had three barbers, so there was no chance. The Plaza barbershop had two chairs and two barbers, so no chance. The M&M Barber shop had three chairs and two barbers, but not enough customers.

I went home to Anita after not having success finding a barber job and told her I was thinking about taking a mining job in Questa. “No,” she told me. “Find a place and open your own barbershop. You have the license and all the equipment. Try it and if it doesn’t work out, then go to the mine.”

She was right. I went out and started looking for a good place but couldn’t find anything I liked. One day I walked into Randall’s lumber store and ran into John Randall. He asked what I had been doing since I left town. I told him how I had been working for Dad but I was trying to find a place so I could open my own shop. He happened to have one across the street he said and took me to look at it.

We walked over real slow because he was on crutches. He had gotten polio, but still worked all the time and was real strong. He showed me this spot and ex- plained that it was a big foundation they were planning on building a small build- ing like the old flourmill. It was right on the corner. It was full of trees and brush and looked pretty small. He told me that once he cleaned it up that it would look a lot better so I told him if he did we would have a deal and shook hands. I wanted to put three chairs in there. I had four, but three would be good enough. He wanted to come see the equipment to see how big it was so that he would have a better idea how to build the place. He came over to the house and measured the chairs and said he would go draw up the plans. A couple of days later I went by the spot and it was all cleaned up. It did look bigger and nice. I went over to talk to him and he had the plans all drawn up. I liked what he had. Then he told me that he wanted Dad to build it, so he and I got right on it.

One day Albert, from M&M Barber Shop called me at home and asked if I could help him for a couple of days because his partner had left for a gall stone operation. I said I would be there the next day, which was a Saturday and the biggest day for barbers.

Two weeks later Albert’s partner, Lino, came over to the shop. I asked how he was filling and he said he was doing a lot better and thanked me for filling in for him. I was glad to help because they had the busiest shop in town and I made some good money. I offered to get them a beer and when I came back, Albert told me that he and Lino talked and decided they wanted me to come work for them.

“Thanks,” I told him, “but I’m having a shop built right now.” I told them where it was being built.

“You’ll do alright. You cut good hair and you have a good personality,” Albert said.

I opened the business on April 14th, 1968. I went to talk to all the barbers before I opened and told them I would have the same prices and same hours and I would work with them on anything to keep a good relationship. They were all real happy I went to talk to them before hand.

I advertised in the local paper the day before I opened and had an open house. I bought donuts and coffee and cokes. I couldn’t believe it; I had a full shop on the first day. I had people waiting outside for me when I got there to open the shop. I told them the first customer would get a free haircut and a certificate signed by the Mayor of Taos, Mayor Garcia. The first customer was Candido “Candy” Mon- dragon. I charged $2.10 a haircut and was doing better than I was in California.

I was busy the whole time the first day. I didn’t even have a chance to eat. I came home and told Anita that it was happening just right and I thanked her for not let- ting me go to the mine to work.

After three weeks it became too much for just me. I had to call Louie who was barbering in Albuquerque, New Mexico. He said he would come up. He was a good barber and always had a good line with people. We were still too busy, just the two of us, so we called Gill down there too. He came by and said it was the busiest shop he had ever seen. He felt bad for the other barbers in town because I took all their customers.

So Gill was on board with us too and we stayed busy all day. Louie and Gill were doing real good. After three years, Louie told me that he didn’t want to do this his whole life and that he was afraid of getting varicose veins from standing all day. He likes to move around a lot. After seven years of barbering, he quit.

Gill stayed for eight years before he got burned out and wanted an outdoors job. He got a job with the forest service. He didn’t like to work Saturdays because that was the opening day for hunting and fishing, but it was the busiest day for barbers, so he too quit.

I stayed alone for about two weeks. It was hard, but I did it. I had to hire some- body. I hired a friend of Louie’s named Tommy. He had cut hair in Albuquerque at the Army base. He stayed with me for eight years before he left to open his own barbershop. A lot of the other barbers in town quit. Two went to the mines and 1 became a plumber. I guess I had taken too many of their customers.

Gill eventually opened his own barbershop. I couldn’t hire him back because I already had Tommy and another girl working for me named Elaine. Just after Gill opened his shop, Tommy left and Elaine left and I was alone again and very busy.

July 20, 1971, Jeffery was born. Boy, I was so happy that I had a daughter and a son. Angela and Jeffery were thirteen years apart and Angela was like a second mother to him. I had Jeffery with me all the time. I would take him working and fishing and hunting. He loved being out in the woods. We would go camping just to sleep in the tent. Life was good.

Three years after Jeffery was born, a new grocery store came to Taos. It was called Jeffery, born July 21 1971 Foodway and they bought out the Plaza Food Store from the local owner, Mr. Packerd. Before they opened, the manager from Foodway, Isaac Atencio, came into the shop. As I was cutting his hair he asked if Anita would want to come to the store and help during the grand opening.

Anita wasn’t too sure if she could because of Jeffery, but I told her we could use the money for bills. It was January 1974. Angela could watch Jeffery when she came home from school and Mom would watch him during the day. So, Anita went to work for Foodway. She was only supposed to help out for two weeks, but she retired from there after it was named Smith’s Grocery Store. She ended up staying for 30 years and 3 months.

I would love coming home and playing with Angela and Jeffery. Angela was six- teen years old and raised Jeffery. She also worked part time in an orthodontist’s office in town and for the Kachina Lounge as a hostess. She graduated in 1976. Dr. Jory, the orthodontist, was moving to Albuquerque and wanted Angela to come with him and work for him there. We wanted her to go to college, but she said she would later because she had a good job right now. She liked it and we were happy for her.

Then came the time where Angela had a boyfriend, his name was Gary Devlin, from Georgia. I figured that because Angela was from Georgia of course she was going to have to have a boyfriend from there too. The first time I met him, he came to Taos with long hair and a beard. When I first saw him, I just kept thinking how I wanted to sit him in the barber’s chair and give him the works. Eventually he did come see me to get a trim.

A year after they started dating, Angela called me and told me that her and Gary were coming up to Taos and wanted me to meet them somewhere after I closed the barbershop. I told her I would and we met at Olgoris, a lounge and restaurant. I walked in and saw them sitting at a table together waiting.

“Hi Dad,” Angela says. Gary stood up and shook my hand, bought me a beer and we sat and talked for a while. Then Angela got up and said that she was going to leave us so that she could help mom with something. I knew something was going to happen. Gary and I sat there and talked for a while, and then he dropped the bomb! “Angela and I have been going for a while and we get along real good. I would like your permission to marry her,” Gary said. I looked at him straight in the eye.

“For how long. I don’t want you to come back later and say ‘here she is, I don’t want her anymore.’ So, for how long?” His face got real red.

“For as long as forever.”

“Okay, we’ll have a beer on that!”

I came home and saw Anita and Angela sitting at the table. I told them that Gary had asked for my permission and that I gave him a green pumpkin. When a father gives the man who wants to marry his daughter a pumpkin, it means no permission. Angela’s eyes got wide open and she was about to tear up. Then Gary walked in and told Angela they were getting married.

The day came for Angela’s wedding. She didn’t want a big one, just family. I told Gary he didn’t have to call me Dad and that Johnny was fine, and to this day he still calls me Johnny, but he call’s Anita mom.

A year after that Anita and I were hit with a big surprise. We were going to be grandparents. On July 9th1983, Angela and Gary had a little boy, Michael Bran- don Devlin. I told them he was a Devlin, but he looked all Tafoya too. He was a good-looking boy with jet-black hair. We baptized him in Ranchos Church.

Then four years later, another surprise came. Angela was expecting again and on December 2, 1987 she gave birth to a little girl, Amanda Leigh Devlin. She was real pretty, and again, all Tafoya. So Angela and Gary had their son and daughter and we were Nana and Papa.

By then the barbershop was still as popular and I hired a new girl named Susie Ap- odea. I gave her a full time position. She was a good employee and good barber and she stayed with me for five years. She got married and her husband wanted her home. That left me to find a new barber so I hired Fred Martinez and Ruben Graham. Ruben had been barbering in Questa for 18 years. He and my brother Louie went to barber school together in Los Angeles. Ruben was great. Fred was okay. He would come and go. He never worked a full week though.

Ruben and I stayed real busy and occasionally Susie would come in and help us. She worked two days a week, but then she had to move to Israel, where her hus- band was from.

About that time, Jeffery had started school in Roswell. He went to New Mexico Military Institute in the 10th grade. He told me one day on the way home from rabbit hunting that he didn’t want to go to high school in Taos and that he wanted to go to military school. I asked him if he was sure and he said he was. We had stopped by there a few years prior on our way to Carlsbad Caverns. He saw all those cadets marching and looking sharp and said that he wanted to go there some day. It was good, being that I liked the Army so much too.

We got home and I told Anita that Jeff didn’t want to go to school in Taos next year. “What?” she said. “He’s not going to school anymore?”

“No,” I told her, “he wants to go to school in Roswell to the military institute.” She asked what I thought and naturally I thought it was a good idea. And so like that, off he went. He did real good and graduated from high school and then went one year to college. After that he transferred to New Mexico State in Las Cruses.

Around that time, we were grandparents again. He was a funny looking boy. This one was all Devlin and looked like his Dad. They named him Joshua Kyle and he was born June 13, 1989. We just love these grandkids. They grew so fast. Mike and Anita

Me and my Mandy Anita, Josh and Me at Josh’s graduation. Just like me, always looking sharp

Me and my Mandy

Jeffery and Mike when Jeff was a cadet at NMMI Amanda, Joshua and Mike with Dad. They grew up so fast, but they keep me young

(Back Row, Left to Right) Arthur, Issac, Louis, Johnny, Phillip, Edwin (Front Row, Left to Right) Gill, Grandpa Miquel, Chamiso (Dad) Epilogue October 23, 2008

Today is my 72nd birthday. We have been traveling to Roswell for 22 years. We started with Jeffery, then with Michael, then Amanda, and now Joshua. They all did great and I am proud of all of them. Jeffery has his Master’s Degree and works for the Bureau of Land Management.

He didn’t have much luck with his first marriage, but I’m very proud of him. He didn’t give up. In fact, he did even better. He has brought different girls home for us to meet and they have all been very nice and treat the family with respect, and we do the same.

I have to say I have really enjoyed hunting and fishing with him. I taught him when he was young and growing up. Now he tells me what to do. I have the best memories a father could have of going hunting and getting our own game.

I have the greatest daughter in the world. She is a good wife and mother to her family and has a good husband. He is from Georgia. He’s great, but should stop smoking! That way he can live for a long time, like me! Haha.

Angela has done so much for her kids. She is a mother-hen all the way. Not only has she been a great mother, which is a lot of work, but she has done good profes- sionally as well. How she did it all with all the kids, especially when they were small, is above me. I know in my heart she will be a great Grandma someday. Angela, now that your kids are all out of the house, take it easy and enjoy your life, okay. You don’t have to worry about them. You gave them the best start at life, they will do great.

Every year on your birthday, I still see you as a baby with a lot of hair. Your mom is so proud of you. She always gives you a lot of credit for what you have done and for the wonderful grandchildren you gave us.

Michael is one hell of a grandson. He also has a Master’s Degree and did great at NMMI. He graduated from there with High Honors and as a Squadron Com- mander. He has a real good job now and is doing great. I have many memories of him. He was something else when he was small. He would talk and talk, but was always a smart kid. I couldn’t have asked for a better first grandson.

My Mandy, she is the princess of the bunch, and she knows it. She did great at NMMI and I will give her a lot of credit for being there as a girl. She had some challenges, but made it through them and now she works and goes to school in Texas. Hopefully she will get her degree soon. I love her deeply and happy to have such a beautiful granddaughter.

Joshua, he’s a great partner. He showed me a lot as a small boy and doesn’t give up when it comes to working. I enjoyed taking him fishing and hunting with me. He also has done great at NMMI. He too is way up there in ranks. He is on Regimental. He knows what he wants and I know he’ll do great with whatever he decides to do. I’m very proud to have a grandson like him.

It has been 10 years since I retired, but I still keep busy. I can’t seem to stay still. I helped Jeffery build his house in Farmington. That helped keep me from missing barbering after I retired. I sure did miss all the gossip I would get from my cliental. I still go help Ruben once in a while. Everybody gets real excited when they see me behind the chair. They always ask if I am back for good, but I make sure they know I am just a substitute.

It was good that I retired when I did. Dad needed a lot of help in his old age. He was in prefect health up until he was 97 years old. He drove his truck to town and to the grocery store and wherever else he wanted to go. He broke his hip and that was real hard on him. He felt bad because he couldn’t do much anymore, but he didn’t give up.

We had to take care of him and just stay with him so he wouldn’t fall down and hurt his hip again. He would still take good care of himself and was no problem. I know it was a good thing that I was able to spend more time with him. The whole family took turns helping. Anita and I, Gill and Brenda, Louie and Edwin, and Isaac and Phillip all helped, and Art would help as a substitute. That helped when Gill had knee surgery and couldn’t help. We all helped for two years.

Eva, the oldest, couldn’t come. She had her own health problems. Rachel also had some health problems. Irene came all the time. She was real good about helping out. Margret lived in California and came when she could. Se did a lot for Dad when she came, so we could take a break for a couple of weeks in between. Dad was no trouble though and it wasn’t hard at all.

We were lucky that he qualified for medical help. We got help from the Moun- tain Health Care. He qualified for a person to come and stay with him during the daytime. From 9 a.m. till 4 p.m. Benito Romero was the person from Mountain Health Care that would stay with him. He was great and he and Dad got along real well. Dad would tease him and call him Pueblo because he was an Indian from the Pueblo, but he sure did take good care of Dad.

Dad passed away when he hit 98 years old. We lost him on August 25th, 2007. He was 35 days from being 99 years old. I have a lot of good memories from him and I think of him all the time. He was the greatest man and I give a lot of credit to him for what I am today and what I have done. He had the most beautiful fu- neral I have ever seen. I know he is in Heaven and giving everyone up there a hard time.

My sister Rachel passed away right after Dad passed away. It was on October 23rd, my birthday. I will never forget the day she left us. When things hit, they hit hard. On August 7th, 2008, 10 months later, Rachel’s daughter Reneeay, passed away.

I see how life starts to come closer to ending when you get older. I lost my brother Mike when he was only 54 years old and my nephew Phillip Jr. when he was only 25 years old due to an accident.

The one death that I still think about and dream about was my mother’s. She passed away August 8, 1989. She would have been 80 years old September 1, 1989. She raised 12 kids, and how she did it, I don’t know. And on top of that, she had to put up with Chamiso, which was Dad’s nickname. Mom is in Heaven with Dad now. It took her 19 years to call him up to her, but they are together again and finally getting some much deserved rest.

I want to end this about the woman whom I have shared most of my life with and has been there for me the whole time; my wife, your mother and grandmother, Anita, or the “non-dancer” as I called her when I first met her. Her real name is Betti Wilhelmine Masching, but now I call her “Hun.”

Her parents were the best and so were her brothers, Manfred, Dieter, Herbert, and her sister Monica. Mutti, Anita’s mother, was a second mother to me. I wish I could have been able to see them more often. It took me 36 years to go back to Bamberg after I left. I never did get to see her stepfather again. He passed away a couple of years before I came back. When I did visit the family, they treated me like a King. I went back 2 years later and it was great. I’m glad I was able to see Mutti before she passed away.

This was my life, this was old days and someday you will have the old days too. So many trails, so little time. I have the best wife, the best son and daughter, and best grandchildren.

Thank you Lord, always give thanks,

Johnny Jeffery, Angela, Gary Me and Anita