ARMANDO F. VASQUEZ

“MANDO”

Armando, Age 4, on « Borrego »

A BRIEF FAMILY HISTORY

I will now enter all I know of my grandparents Vasquez. Unfortunately on my mother’s side, I didn’t know them, as they passed away before I was born. I know their names, Carlos and Diega Ramos Herrera. They had fourteen children. They lost a set of twins at birth.

The Vasquez grandparents had eight children, four boys and four girls. My grandparents always followed the phases of the moon when ordering a new boy or girl. My father Conrado was the first born, followed by aunt Maria, then Natividad Jr., next Anita, and then came Enrique, followed by Otilia, Gerardo and finally Lucy. The procession from first child to last child was boy and then girl.

“Our Old House”

Mama Concha, Papa Conrado Grandfather Natividad,

Grandmother Lucia, cousin Lilian,

her mother, Aunt Victorina and Uncle Henry

My grandfather, Natividad, was a hard working man and a good provider. He enjoyed reading “the San Antonio weekly”, La Prensa in Spanish.

My grandmother, Lucia Russell Vasquez was educated in Presidio and attended the University at Austin, Texas. Anita her younger sister went with her. Their father, William Russell was a very successful businessman in Presidio and Ojinaga. He came from Kentucky as a young man, always looked for new business ventures. He bought some real estate in Ruidosa, Texas and a ranch, which is now called Capote Falls. He started silver mine, the San Carlos Mine close to Porvenir in Presidio County and traded some land in Presidio for what is now called “la Punta del Agua”. This track of land he later gave to his two daughters. That’s where grandfather and grandmother lived and raised their children. When my grandmother was to marry my grandfather Natividad, her father objected to the wedding being that my grandfather was unable to give her all the luxuries and the higher living standards that she was accustomed to. My grandmother refused to change her mind and consoled her father by telling him that he was the only man in her life that she would ever love, however, she proceeded with the wedding plans. The wedding took place at night and she was to wear a black dress, as this was the custom of an objected marriage -- especially from the bride’s parents.

Punta del Auga House

(Grandparents House)

Natividad worked for William Russell as a secretary and had beautiful penmanship and that’s where the two got to meet each other. She gave up all her luxuries and lived a hard life. They started from the bottom. They had milk cows and goats and she’d make cheese to sell and for their own use. All of this she told me and always would tell me about her past. I’d go often to visit them riding my burro. I also would help her with a few chores. One day she asked me to bring an extra burro so that she could ride it with her side saddle (albardon), that she kept as a young girl. I did bring the extra burro and she rode it back to my parent’s house. My grandfather played the guitar and violin. He taught me a few cords on the guitar and I still play it and my violin. I only entertain myself since my group broke up some years back. Going back to my grandmother’s father, he also got to be Presidio County’s second sheriff. He died young, shortly after reaching the age of 59. He was my great grandfather.

Conrado Vasquez standing next to a laurel at La Punta

Del Agua July 10, 1966J

HOW CASA PIEDRA GOT IT’S NAME

“MY FATHER CONRADO L. VASQUEZ APPLIES

AND GETS A PERMIT TO OPEN A POST OFFICE IN CASA PIEDRA”

Conrado Vasquez Sr. at age of 13

I will start with my father’s early life and how he was eligible to apply for a permit to run a Post Office in Casa Piedra.

He was adopted by his aunt and uncle Anita and Ignacious Kleiman in Presidio, Texas at the age of seven. They had a large general merchandise store in Presidio and his Aunt Anita Kleiman was Presidio’s Post Mistress and he helped her with her work in the Post Office, therefore he learned and was capable of doing all that pertained to Postal Service. His aunt and uncle sent him to the local school and got to finish the fifth grade, enough to read and write but later he learned much more while helping his aunt and uncle with store keeping and as I said before with the Post Office. He always mentioned the good professor he had, one of the early settlers, Mr. Richard Daly, a name that is often mentioned in early settlers’ history of Presidio County.

My father always helped his parents and brothers and sisters often times he’d share his meager earnings with them sending or taking them groceries or anything they

needed. Mr. Kleiman, his uncle passed away and the store was soon closed including his aunt’s Post Office.

He saw that Casa Piedra was in need of a Post Office and store. When he applied for the permit a name had to be included in the forms to be filled. He had to find a name or name the new Post Office. He thought of Mr. Dionicio Mata, the founder of Casa Piedra in the early eighteen hundreds about 1830. Mr. Mata’s living quarters was a two-room rock house built on top of a small hill close to the Russell Headquarters. In my early school days sometimes we’d walk to school, I well remember seeing the rock hut. Now it’s just a pile of rocks close by Mrs. Joy Rawls’ house. So my father out of respect for Mr. Dionicio Mata, the founder, named Casa Piedra in his honor.

The second Post Office and store of Casa Piedra

My father opened the Post Office in 1913 and later sold general merchandise. His first store and Post Office was established close by his parents’ house at Punta Del Agua. Soon after he and mama married he bought land south of his parents’, about a mile; he bought this acreage including the flat roof adobe house from Mariano Quesada in about 1921. In 1933 as I have mentioned before he build a new house including the Post Office and store in the same complex and it still stands. By the way Casa Piedra means Rock House. My father retired in 1957, he was 71 years of age. Lack of patrons hastened his closing of store and Post Office. This Post Office room has been converted to a family museum. This conversion is owed to my sister Mrs. Ernesto C. Mendoza. It has many pictures and past artifacts of interest, all connected to the Vasquez & Russell family history.

When my brother, Conrado Jr. and Carmen, my eldest sister went off to school, my chores increased toward helping around the house and helping dad in the store and post office. Every day after coming from school he had me riding horse back so I could look after the cows, especially when cattle were brought through our herd. I had to check the cows brought in to see if any of our cows got mixed up with the cattle brought in. Several times I’d spot one of our cows in the stock pens and I’d go get them out. All these cattle were to be shipped by rail to different feedlots and it was always a hassle getting ours cows out of the incoming herd’s paths.

THE EARTH QUAKE OF 1930

In the early summer of 1930, we had Aunt Maria Nieto visiting us. She was my father’s eldest sister. She and Uncle Miguel Nieto and family lived in Presidio, Texas. In the early morning hours we were all awakened by the shaking of ground the rattling of empty soda bottles that my father kept in the store room close to where we were all sleeping. I woke up with the commotion and saw Daddy and Mama standing in the doorway of the door going to the porch. I ran towards them and stood between them and as stunned and surprised as I was I wondered why they were standing there. Later they told me that it was the safest place to be during an earthquake. Also that they didn’t have time to wake everybody up, since it happened so suddenly. The doorway would have been the last to cave in; therefore it was the safest place to be. This quake was much talked about and later we found out that the Epic center was close to Valentine, Texas, apparently we didn’t hear of anybody getting hurt so maybe it was low on the Richter Scale.

MANDO’S EARLY CHILDHOOD IN CASA PIEDRA

Armando 2 years old fixing the cash carrier wagon

I am Armando F. Vasquez, the youngest son of Conrado L. And Concha H. Vasquez. My older brother was Conrado Vasquez Jr., my older sister is Carmen and my youngest sister is Conchita. I was born in Marfa, Texas on February 4, 1925. I lived with my parents Conrado Loretto Vasquez and Concha Herrera Vasquez in Casa Piedra, Texas until the age of sixteen years. I attended elementary school at Casa Piedra until I finished the eighth grade. I went to Marfa High School and finished two years of high school.

The following story is about how we lived before and after we moved to the present house that my parents built in 1933. I was born February 4, l925. At that time, my parents lived in a flat roof adobe house. I was eight years of age when we moved to the present house, with all the comforts and indoor plumbing. Being that my brother was six years older than I, he got to do most of the hard chores. He hauled water to drink, cook and bathe with. The well was hand dug. It was about twenty-five feet deep on the bank of the Alamito creek. We had to haul the water up hill to the house. The well was about one hundred yards from the house. This was very hard on me, being so young.

The first rain came mostly in spring and summer, the roof of the house was flat and it always leaked. When it rained, dad and mom hardly slept because they had to check that our beds did not get wet. They would use cans, pots and pans to place under the leaks. Sometimes we would stay awake and listen to all the different sounds that different containers would make. After two or three rains most of the leaks would stop. The mud roof would harden and this eliminated most of the leaks. After it stopped raining more mud was poured on top of the roof, so that for sure the rafters and connecting pieces of wood would be covered again with the required thickness. The old house had a long screen porch with a few warped boards on the floor; it was situated with its longest sides facing east and west. The kitchen was on the west end. The bedroom to the north of the porch with a door to its entrance near the kitchen, but connecting it to the porch. At the west end of the bedroom was dad’s store and post office. I well remember it not being a large room, but he kept it well filled with grocery merchandise and a counter that separated the mailing merchandise from everything else. He sold various merchandise including shoes and dry goods. To the north, attached to the store, he had a small storage room. In this room he had an icebox loaded with sodas and the best brands of candy. The candy or sodas sold for a nickel each. On payday the railroad workers came by and almost emptied daddy’s store. He even sold them many pairs of engineer’s high-laced boots. These people were building the present railroad that was then called the Santa Fe & Topica, Acheson railroad line. It was in 1930 and in the middle of the prohibition. No liquor was sold, but he did manage to sell some Budweiser beer that contained hardly any alcohol.

The same drillers that drilled two wells for the railroad were the ones that daddy hired to drill the present well used in our household. The drillers were the McSpadden brothers, who became well known for their expert drilling. The first well they drilled was at Plata and the second one at Casa Piedra, near the depot. All those wells produced 100% pure artesian well water, flowing naturally from the ground . . . as is our well. These wells are still flowing and several more have been drilled in what we call the Casa Piedra basin.

Going back to the screen porch, every time the wind blew, it made a weird noise being that it had so much screening material. The sounds made me feel sad and melancholiac for some reason. In front of the porch there were two 12 ft. posts where mama hung her laundry for drying. To the north of the house, by about twenty-five feet, were the garage and an extra room. Sometimes passers-by would sleep there. The cow and horse pen was situated about 50 yards south west of the main house. Opposite the west side of the store was a small room with a gasoline pump close by. This room was for kerosene and oil storage. A road divided the space between the house and the oil storage room. I well remember the door dividing the store and bed room. It was very low and the average person had to watch their head to keep from hitting the low doorframe.

1939-1940 CASA PIEDRA SCHOOL

Lto R Teacher Burton Weatherford, Mike Lara, Jose Mata, Juan Herrera, Mariano Lujan, Armando Vasquez, Carlos “Maco” Russell, Antonio Herrera, Narcisa Chavez,

Delia Russell, and Herlinda Valerio

My brother and sister rode a burro to school. I got to go with them only one year, as I was just seven years old then. Daddy got us another burro. In the years that followed I was going alone since my brother and sister soon were sent to higher grade schools or the high school. My brother went to Alpine and Carmen to Stanton, Texas. It was a Catholic sister’s convent, very well noted for its excellence. Carmen went to that school for three years and later she and my brother went to Austin. My brother went to Saint Edward’s University while Carmen went to Saint Mary’s.

Josephine Mata, Conchita and

Carmen Vasquez 1936

Before it slips my mind. Going back to the old house that we lived in, one thing I want to mention was the outhouse. It was situated east of the house and down to the base of a small hill that house was situated on. Back in those days the most common medication for us was the dreaded castor oil. Any time mama felt that I needed a laxative to cure a sneeze, cold, constipation or any other ailment, she would get my brother to hold me and she’d pour a tablespoon full. Many times I could not relieve myself before making it to the outhouse. So many times I’d have an accident and get all messed up. Another thing that should be mentioned is that after the Castor Oil treatment it would leave my stomach empty and would also worry mama, so she would apply a much milder laxative. The name was Castoria that would regulate the bowel movement. One day I wanted to prove to mama that I truly loved her but I didn’t have anything to give to her except that I told her that I would gladly take Castor Oil without resisting. I wanted to put it clear across to her, and that’s all I could offer and surely she complied and gave me the big tablespoon full of Castor Oil. The outhouse was a fancy one because it was a three hole. One was a large hole for a bigger than average size and the middle one was for the average size and the small one, of course for kids like me. I don’t recall seeing sanitary tissue, but a past season Sears & Roebuck or Montgomery’s catalog was always present. The hog pen was down the house hill about 100 yards from the out house or privy.

Again, going back to the screen porch, mama always served her meals in the porch especially on warm and hot days. I well remember when she made hot cakes for breakfast and it being summer that she made a large screen cover out of rags. It had all kinds of fabrics and colors and it was used to keep the early sunshine from us while we ate breakfast. The beautiful sound of swallows singing away on those laundry posts always impressed me. They nested on the eves and mama and dad never bothered their nests, because as old timers use to say, having swallows’ nesting around the houses was a good omen. It must have rained in those days because there were so many birds around, always chirping away everywhere, especially in spring and summer.

At back of old house showing part of garage

Papa Conrado, Armando, pet lamb and railroad

friend Leo. Part of garage seen. 1930

My father always kept three teams of mules for plowing and farming. He supplied the land, seed, mules and equipment for his sharecroppers. It usually consisted of two or three families. They always depended on rain and the Alamito creek to rise before they could start planting their crops. They usually sowed corn, beans, milo, cotton, pumpkins or anything that would grow to sell or feed their families. I don’t remember if they ever failed to raise what they planted. Again it must been the rainy cycle or the atmosphere less affected than today. These families would also depend on the surrounding ranches for hired work during the cattle-working season. They’d come and pay dad on their accounts and for receipt of the balance, dad had to wait until they sold their farm products. I don’t recall my father ever losing an account.

My father had a few extra incomes besides what he made with the store business. I well remember what his salary was with the post office. His salary was the fee he’d charge on money orders. Often times I remember helping him posting the money orders and listings every quarter or every three months. He’d deduct the fees and usually average between twenty to twenty-five dollars. He never complained. He wasn’t greedy. He was never eluded by money. He also drew a small amount, maybe fifteen dollars monthly for his job as depot agent. Every time the ranchers shipped cattle he’d go and verify the amount of cattle shipped and on every car he’d seal it with a metal strap, which had numbers; he later would go to the depot and call in the number of cattle and cars loaded. Many times this was done in the late hours of the night. Often, I’d go along for the ride and to play around the depot grounds. One thing that always fascinated me about the depot was that it had one waiting room designated for Afro Americans; it said for colored, yet there were no blacks in this part of the country.

As years went by the railroad did away with the stock pens and depot on account of lack of business. This happened after daddy had put in his time as agent, therefore he always drew a small pension. At the present time the rail line is at a stand still. It has a different owner and they are still undecided with what to do with it: scrap it or open it for business.

Most of my father’s time was spent in his store and post office room. At night he’d use a kerosene lamp to do his paper work. At the old flat roof house his small window had wooden pegs like steel bars, they still use in some office buildings. We as kids use to play outside his office and we’d watch him busy writing by his kerosene lamp.

Every year dad would fatten a hog and had it butchered. It was always a very fat one. On the last days of the process he’d feed the hog corn and water, soaked it over night to ease the digestion and better benefit the fattening process. The hog was fattened until he could no longer stand. That was the sign of the coming slaughter. The butcher would come before sunrise and start a fire and get the water boiling. He’d walk the hog close to some planks by the fire. He’d kill him and start the process of scraping the hair from the hide. He’d cover the hog on one side with tow sacks and then pour the boiling water on top, scrape that side and then turn him over and do the same thing on the bottom side. This was a whole day’s ordeal.

Big Dutch ovens were used to boil the outer layers of skin and fat. Later all the lard was extracted and put in five-gallon cans and later sold in the store. The boiled skins and some meat were eaten in place of bacon in the morning. These are called crackling and tasted good. Mama would make sausage with the hog meat. The hog’s head was carefully cooked and tamales were made from it. This hog usually meant a family get together and us kids looked forward to it, since the mamas always made delicious plates that we always enjoyed, especially the red chili meat that we call asado, to be eaten with corn tortillas and then they’d make a corn punch (atole) to go with the meal. At a later time they’d have another get-together and make tamales. Aunts and uncles would come from Presidio, Arizona and Tennessee, along with the local relatives like our Vasquez grandparents and their unmarried son and daughter. It was a lot of fun and everyone had good times. Our Vasquez grandparents also butchered a hog every year and the same process was done all over.

At a very small age, maybe three, I liked to ride. Daddy bought me a small saddle from Sears & Roebuck. I’d ride a burro all around the house. I was too small to saddle it so dad had that chore. I remember we had a white horse everyone rode, but the moment I’d get on him, he’d act up and refuse to move and would rear up. I’d holler and dad would get a rawhide whip used for the mule teams. He’d whack it once or twice on the white horse’s rump and the horse would act all right for about a week and then the process had to be repeated. Of course I was on him when daddy applied the whip. I had to hold on tight because the horse bolted very fast as he felt the whip. The name of the horse was Borrego (lamb). I kept on riding every chance, although I lacked much experience when it came to riding horses. Once a rancher came to the store and while making purchases, left his horse tied to a mesquite. I untied him and fitted myself with two large spurs that dad sold at the store. They were very simple spurs, light with a rowel like the cookie cutter that is used in some kitchens. I climbed on the horse and a kid that came by suggested that I spur the horse, I did and he stampeded as fast as he could go down the road. I panicked and started crying for help but wouldn’t let loose. Luckily, one of our neighbor ladies heard the commotion and got her son that was chopping wood by the road to stop the horse. He stood on the middle of the road and hollered, the horse obeyed and came to a stand still. He got me of and walked the horse and me back to the store. I don’t remember being reprimanded or scolded for my endeavor. So I guess the owner was too busy buying and daddy selling . . . even mama didn’t notice, as there was a small window in the kitchen facing the store activities.

This thing bothered me for some time. I always wondered what would have happened to me if the horse hadn’t been stopped by that God sent man chopping wood right by the road. I continued with my burro riding around the house and close by surroundings. One day my grandmother’s brother, uncle Willie went by our place while I was riding my burro. He must have had about twenty horses and a couple of cowboys herding them on by. I greeted uncle Willie and soon asked him to give me one of those horses, so that I could ride. Uncle Willie always liked me and soon ordered one of his cowboys to catch me “Chango”, one of the horses. I was delighted to own him. It was late so I didn’t ride him that day, but turned him loose on our small horse trap. Soon he found himself lonely and ran back and forth, whining and snorting, as he was looking for the rest of the horses. I was worried that he’d get out and I’d lose him, but I found him the next day. I caught him and daddy saddled him for me. I was riding him around the usual places I rode the burro. Edward Russell came to get their mail and invited me to go with him and I could return with my brother, Conrado and sister Carmen when they’d come home for lunch. I had on the same spurs. We started riding our horses at a slow pace until Edward suggested that we race the horses to see which one was faster.

No sooner had I spurred, that Chango left the other horse behind and I could not control him. I saw the saddle blanket fly back, but I hung on for dear life. It ran all the way to his old stable at full speed. Edward’s daddy, Robert Russell heard the commotion and ran to make the horse stop before hitting the barbwire gate. He made a hazy stop and I got off. Robert immediately got on to me for riding a horse at such a small age. I told him that it was my horse and that I intended to keep him and ride him. He said that his dad Willie should have known better than to give me the horse. He was right but I was too eager to own Chango. He tied the horse immediately and I went to the schoolhouse while it was still in session. It had a cement floor and I spotted my brother as he was sitting in one of those old double school desks. I made a lot of noise with my two large spurs and everybody threw a roar of laughter. It scared me and I sat on the edge of my brother’s desk, waiting for a whipping from Miss Ora Mathews as I had herd she was very strict and highly disciplinarian. Nothing happened and soon she rang the bell for the lunch break. My brother changed saddles for me, the one on the burro went to the horse and the smaller one (mine) went to the burro. Carmen got on the burro and my brother got on Chango. I doubled and grabbed the two saddle strings behind the saddle. As soon as my brother tried to get the horse to move he wouldn’t and started bucking, on the first few jumps he threw my brother off, but I remained holding on until I got scared and jumped off. I landed on a mesquite bush and got a few stickers on my body. I quickly got taken care of, but I did some crying. The crying came, as I knew I’d have to leave my horse back at his old stall and forever loose him. I just had to accept the fact that I was too small to be able to control him.

My brother, Conrado standing near the main house 1980

My parents always had a problem with me. I always liked to gather and raise small or baby animals regardless of what they were. I raised baby chicks, cats, dogs, coyotes, hawks, crows, eagles, new born orphan calves, lambs and goats to name a few. It was a nuisance to dad and mom and they usually had to dispose of any unwelcome critter that annoyed them. I was sure they gave them away or disposed of them some way except for calves, goats, and lambs. I remember raising a baby calf and bottle-feeding her. It survived on diluted corn meal, since at the time there was not enough milk left from our milk cow. That calf grew to be a nice cow producing about twelve off spring. I soon had a herd but as always the money proceeds went to help my father’s finances.

As a child, mama always kept what coins I was given by my grand parents on every Christmas or birthdays or those friends of mama’s and dad’s that often would be invited guests at our house. As years went by mama had collected thirty-five dollars that comprised of my kiddy bank. My parents decided that it was time to buy a cow with that money so I could start saving and owning something. So the cow was a jersey owned by Mr. Ware Hord, a close by neighbor. The thirty-five dollars was a bit short of the amount priced, so dad put in the balance, which was not much. I was very proud of my milk cow and soon I learned to milk her being that she was so gentle. I later got to buy one more cow and as years went by I got to own more cows than my father and brother. After my father bought my grandparents property, the dry season started. It was about 1950 when he had a hard time making the payments on the mortgage note. He had a large expense, feeding all our cattle and forever hoping for a better year. This never came for it was to last seven years. I gave him my cows to help pay the debt but soon he had to sell them all, except for two that wouldn’t fit in the big semi-trailer. With these cows he started a new herd to number about eight.

Since it was a general drought all the ranchers were having a rough time, some going under. My father was given a break and allowed to pay only the interest on the note and that he could do with his small amount of pension money. He did this until 1960 and at that time, he and mama willed all the property to their children. My brother and I took over the ranch and the note. First we needed to buy more cows. Daddy gave us his eight cows to use as collateral on the note and mortgage for buying cows. It went well and in eleven years we paid off the ranch loan that daddy had borrowed in 1948. The cows were all paid for so the whole operation was clear of debt. My brother would come and help on his days off and on weekends. He worked as a post office clerk in Marfa and stayed until retirement. He took over all the ranch operation until he became ill and passed it over to me in 1991. He soon got worse and passed away in November of the same year. I had been self-employed since 1954 so provided; I didn’t have a job unfinished. My time was more flexible and I’d go do ranch work at anytime that my brother couldn’t go. We built up the herd to about eighty mama cows and sold about 40 or 50 calves every year. As the years went by all went well until again we had a drought situation that started in 1992 and has been with us since. We have sold what cows we have accumulated building up the herd twice and started with under a dozen cows every time. We now have thirteen mama cows, three bulls and four yearling heifers and 1 steer calf. We just shipped 4 steers for sale and are hoping we get a good price.

MY ENCOUNTER WITH FATHER ELIAS

A late entry of my early life, as a three and a half year old. As usual I always got in the middle of activities that were not meant for a little boy my age. I will go back and try to explain how my mind went back seventy-five years ago. Loretto, my son and I had to look up a couple of his friends in Redford, Texas on August 8, 2004, Sunday. We found his friends and we parked our ranch truck at one of his friend’s house. I noticed an old abandoned church building just across an old road a few yards from his friend’s house. Immediately what came to my mind was when I accompanied my parents for a morning mass in that church service.

Back in those days Catholics fasted to receive the Holy Communion; no doubt everyone attending was hungry—during the procedure of the mass service the time came to receive communion and those to receive it walked in front of the priest. There were a number of people kneeling, mama and I included. Mama opened her mouth and so did I. The priest, Father Elias served mama the host, but skipped me as if he hadn’t seen me. So I go up from kneeling and again kneeled ahead of the priest hoping this time he wouldn’t miss me for I too was hungry. Not the knowing the reason people following the procedure of the Catholic Church and that kids were excluded until they’d receive their first Holy Communion at an older age.

Poor mama, she was very embarrassed and attempted to pull me or guide me to her and daddy’s pew. By then the priest, Father Elias spoke and told mama to leave me kneeling that he’d give me an unsanctified host. He did give me a large one that priests use when it comes the time to break the bread in reference to Jesus serving the Last Supper.

When kids my age saw what was taking place they all came around me, so what I did was share my host and gave each one a piece for a taste. Father Elias saw my good intentions and gave me a beautiful crucifix that is still in my possession. Mama had it in her bed backrest for many years. When Josie and I married in February 20, 1946, Mama made sure we’d keep it forever, which we still do.

Upon showing Olga and Loretto the crucifix and relating all the history and story behind it, they both asked me to write it as a very important past history of my childhood. Olga has asked me to give her the crucifix when Jesus calls me, and I gladly told her it would be hers anytime she wishes to have it as I feel so honored by her wish and interest to have such a priceless relic.

By the way going back to Father Elias, he served in the Presidio Catholic Church and surrounding area for over forty years. He was highly respected and very much of a disciplinarian. Ladies attending had to wear long sleeves and long skirts or he would not have them attend church service. He will be long remembered for his strict rule.

WONDERING ALL OVER WITHOUT WATER OR EATS

In my early years as a teenager I did a lot of wondering with other boys my age. We’d go hiking usually south of Casa Piedra in Mr. Tom Rawls’ pasture. He had many acres of ranch land and very broken country. Some had abandoned houses where people used to live like Holguin Ranch. Most of these places had water for cattle to drink but many times they’d be dry. We never took water with us or eats. Nobody seemed to worry about us. Once I came down sick, no doubt it was heat stroke, but nobody knew what it was or how to cure this illness. I went without eating or getting hungry for three days. I just laid in a cot very weak and unable to get up. Mama shed many tears begging me to get up. The only thing that I could drink was rice soup and she begged me to drink it. With her prayers and encouragement I was up and going again in three days. I don’t remember any recurrence of my sickness in later years. Also many times the only water we could find was in small poodles with algae and many bugs in it. We’d lay our handkerchiefs as sifters or strainers and drink from it. This worked, as I don’t recall any side affects like coming down sick from this water. Also I remember eating cactus fruit called “pitallas”, an apple size fruit that eaten hot in the middle of the day causes a terrible headache. I came down sick but soon was over it and able to talk about it.

MANDO, THE DEER HUNTER

I will now recall my early years as a teenager deer hunter. To begin with I didn’t have much experience handling my father’s 30-30 caliber rifle. One day as I was getting ready for a deer hunt I was emptying the rifle of shells in one of the closets where it was kept. A shot went off and scared mama and my little sister when they heard it. Nothing happened as it went into the 18-inch adobe wall, but nothing deterred me from going deer hunting. For several years, my dad would ask our good friend and neighbor Mr. Tom Rawls, for permission for me to go hunt deer at his place. He owned over a hundred sections of land and hired local men for his ranch operation. Every year I went hunting and took my burro . . . the same one I rode to school. The burro had a bad habit; if you let him loose and unattended he’d run home and leave you a foot. As I was riding him south, in Mr. Rawls pasture, I heard a loud scary noise coming from the ground close by. The noise sounded like an earth eruption, it was awful. As I investigated the exact place this noise came from, low and behold, I saw a large black snake with a few large strands of hair on it’s back. When I saw that the noise came from the snake I was no longer scared, so I got off the burro and held the reins in one hand and picked up a large stone to kill the snake. The burro lifted its head at the same time hitting him smack in the middle of his forehead. My hand was caught between his forehead and the stone. The snake got away and my story is not believed by anyone. I could have killed it with my deer gun but I hated to disturb what deer would be close by. Up to now, only one man had seen such a snake, but he passed away about eight years ago. He had seen such a snake in the Pinto Canyon. Mr. Tom Rawls, many years before, had a goat herder by the name of Jesus Rivas. In an area near that same place where I saw the snake, he had heard a noise and fled leaving the goats unattended. He had his family living in one of my grandfather’s houses at Punta del Agua.

The saying was that he had fled upon hearing a volcanic noise coming from the ground on that hilly and broken country. My guess is that he probably heard that snake, and to finish this ordeal about the goat herder I’ll add what jack Rawls (Junie) said about this herder. This took place at the stag party Bill Webb and George Lowery had at the Webb ranch about nine years ago. Everyone was circled around after a good treat of fresh oyster fry and beer. I first told the goat herder story and about the hairy snake. Naturally they didn’t believe the snake part but Junie took up the story and recalled his grandfather having a hard time gathering the goats again. He said that three years later they found seven goats along with the herd dog. They wondered with amazement about what kept the dog alive for so long.

LIFE IN CASA PIEDRA

Dad always kept one or two milk cows, as we all drank lots of milk. Mama made cheese asaderos and cottage cheese. Sometimes she’d leave the milk in a large container to turn into clabber and we’d eat it as a dessert. The neighbors would come and get a quart of milk every morning.

In those days Presidio County was a dry county but lots of liquor was brought in by out-law smugglers, usually from Mexico. They were called bootleggers and the law was always after them. The unlawful bringing in of Mexican liquor to sell here is compared to the narcotics traffickers of today. The lawmen were always looking for and arresting bootleggers. A lot of times they’d wake daddy at night to buy something to eat at the store. A few times when it got very cold, they’d ask daddy for staying quarters and he’d let them sleep in the extra room in the back. They’d leave early the next day and later the lawmen would come also to buy eats at the store. It was always a cat and mouse game. One day my brother and uncle Jerry were riding in the pasture about two miles from our house. They came upon some bootleggers that were resting with their load of liquor on the backs of burros. They mistook my brother and uncle Jerry for lawmen and came near firing their rifles upon them until uncle Jerry hollered at them in Spanish and that they meant no harm. They rested their rifles and were more than happy to have them come by. They had Waterfil, a popular liquor that was sold in those days. My brother had never drunk before, but he took a few drinks that he was offered. He got sick and uncle Jerry took him back home where he was put in bed until he completely sobered up.

I remember a group of rangers coming by and buying eats at the store. They all ate on the long screen porch. Of all, I just remember one, and his name was Bugger Barnett. He was a small man not much over 5 feet tall and rode a pinto horse. Many years later when I had my garage I saw him going by and asked who that man was. Someone said it was Bugger Barnett. He was a pitiful sight, unshaven and soiled, wore ragged worn clothes. He seemed to be more like a tramp or maybe he was somewhat senile. I really felt sorry for him. What a sad ending. I never saw him again. No doubt he didn’t get to live much longer.

Going back to my young life as a teenager. I always helped daddy in the store especially marking the incoming merchandise and placing the rest in the basement for later sale. At times I’d suggest to daddy to mark up the canned food just a couple of pennies to realize a little more profit, as we didn’t have any local competition. I now realize what a great person my dad was for every time he’d tell me not to take advantage of our patrons, as he was satisfied making or realizing a small profit on every item he sold. His merchandise would sell at the same price as in Marfa even with freight included.

THE CONSTRUCTION OF THE RAILROAD THROUGH CASA PIEDRA

Going back to the building of the railroad through casa Piedra. I went to Casa Piedra March 3, 2001 and met Marian Briley, the daughter of one of the two brother engineers that directed the whole operation. She and I well remembered the dynamiting of the railroad passage; the narrow gap at Canyon ranch; and 3 miles south of Casa Piedra. They dynamited a big portion of the canyon. A big crowd gathered from all over, us included. I was just five and Marian was four years of age, but we both remember well. Big boulders and rocks came rumbling down right after the explosion. Marian said that she was always taken inside the tent before the dynamiting by her mother to keep her from injury. The engineers later built a bridge there crossing

the Alamito creek.

The Casa Piedra Depot built in 1930

Back in 1930 and going back to the time the railroad was being built, there was a crew of Negros and their families working at the railroad-building site. These blacks had living quarters in railroad cars no doubt adapted with living conditions. One day, I well remember, a couple came by to shop at daddy’s old store.

All of a sudden the black man had his wife running around him dodging rocks that he was throwing at her. One rock hit her in the head and blood was running down her face. Low and behold, I must have been the only one to see this action and I can’t remember anybody mentioning this terrible event. Mr. Tom Rawls happened to come by as this man was trying to kill his wife, stoning her to death. Mr. Rawls immediately got off his car hollering at this man to stop this action. I was surprised that the madman responded and after some talk Mr. Rawls had the couple holding hands and went their way as if nothing had happened. Being that I was just 5 years old, I now regret not giving my friend, Mr. Tom Rawls, a thank you for his very human endeavor.

MANDO MOVES INTO NEW HOUSE

New house built in 1933

The day of moving came after daddy built the new house with all the comforts. A nice bathroom, kitchen, dining room, living room and two bedrooms. The store was connected to the dining room to the north and it was twice as large as the rest of the rooms and it had a basement about 15 feet by 18 feet for the extra storage space. We all hated to leave the old house; it had given us much comfort. We felt so cozy there and that was the only home we knew. We didn’t seem to be lacking any other comfort. We were mistaken because no sooner after we moved we found a great difference and so much improvement to our life style. That same day we moved, I plainly remember my baby sister Conchita took her first steps. She walked her first steps on the old screen porch and we were all thrilled. She was exactly a year old.

Shortly after we moved, daddy bought a kerosene refrigerator. My chore was to fill up the three burners with kerosene and fire it up every evening. We soon enjoyed eating ice cream and Jell-O. It was a treat. Mama would put milk and other perishable food in it and of course, the sodas and candy for sale in the store. A few months later, dad bought a Delco light plant. It cost him a little more that $500.00 and I well remember mama’s objection because she thought it was too big an investment and was afraid he’d run out of money.

It worked well and soon all the rooms had electricity, including the two porches, one being at the store entrance. Our neighbor’s kids used to come and play with us at night being that the store porch light was a big attraction. I remember the voltage being just 32 volts, so appliances from regular town voltage could not be used, being that they were 110 amp average. The Delco plant had about twelve glass batteries and it would automatically start running as soon ‘as the lights were turned on. It was a big improvement and soon mama was pleased, having electric lights at all times. Every time that the motor failed to start dad would get Jimmy Walker, an electrician and plant mechanic from Marfa. His fee, I well remember, was $15.00 or $25.00 on every trip.

Going back to the building of our house. It was built in 1933 and my father hired the best of carpenters and masons from Marfa. It was in the middle of the depression and most of these builders were out of work. The head carpenter was Mr. Catarino Gonzales Sr. and helper David Dutchover. Catarino was the head overseer. He was such a good and honest man and so intelligent and everything he did was done with such perfection and excellence. The masons or adobe layers and plasterers were the Roman brothers, Jose and Cosme. They were also experts and excellent in their profession. Jose Roman did the finish work, plastering the outside of the house. His work is still admired by many and up to this day his work has not been replaced by anyone. Aunt Anita’s husband, Robert Beck, did the painting inside the house. He did a fine job of fixing and making different colors with only a few colors on hand. He also did the plumbing. My father’s other brother- in- law, Robert Carter, also worked as a carpenter but just worked a few days as most of the work was already done. Uncle Henry Vasquez, one of my father’s brothers, also helped hauling sand from the Alamito creek on a mule wagon. Several local laborers were also hired. Most of these locals were like Ramón Tapia and the Catano brothers. They started first by making the adobes close by the site.

DADDY BUYS A NEW CAR

Dad’s new Ford Model A

L to R Mama Concha, Bob Beck, Aunt Anita, Unknown

Delfina Torres and Conrado Jr.

When it came to buying cars, dad did better than me. He only bought two used ones, the rest were all brand new. The first one, he bought before my time. It was an Overland and later he bought a Dodge with a tarp top and it could be folded back, kind of like a convertible. He paid George Clothier, a horse trader a few mules for it. He then traded it in and got a tan, four door Ford model A and it turned out to be a good family car. He kept the family car for five years and then bought a 1936 tan-colored Chevrolet. He traded in the model A, still running and in good condition. The war came and the Chevrolet dealer in Marfa, Casner Motor Co. had their last new Chevy in the show room. They were unable to get any more new cars on account of the war. So daddy went there at the right time and bought the car. It was a pretty maroon four door and he paid $800.00 for it. This car lasted him until 1951 when he bought a green Chevy pickup truck that’s still in the family waiting to be restored and forever kept. The 41 Chevy was given to my brother and he kept it many years going to work in it and for family use. He finally traded it in for another car.

Next to the 1930 Chevrolet is Carmen, Armando, Fidel and Margarita . On the far right is the 1926 Dodge convertible belonging to Conrado Sr.

FAMILIES THAT LIVED IN CASA PIEDRA

I will now try and recall all the families that lived and made a living at Casa Piedra. They were the Russell’s, our relatives, Lara, Orona, Catano, Lujan, Valverde, Licon, Mata, Polanco, Munoz, and many others that came and soon left, but also the Herrera, Chavez, Alvarado and Tapia families.

Conrado Vasquez, Casa Piedra, 1970, watching the artisian water flow

House built in 1933

I will never forget the Mata couple. They didn’t have any children, but they adopted one of the Chavez boys. His family was related to the Mata family. Mr. Feliciano Mata and his wife Maria had many relatives and they all lived on his property. They all farmed and worked in surrounding ranches when they were needed. The Mata couple was very religious. Every year on the 15^th of May, being Saint Isidro’s day was celebrated. They had eats, drink and prayer at their house all day. They made (tesquino) made by fermenting corn and no doubt, it contained some alcohol, but on a very low key because we kids all drank and no one was seen under the influence. Most of Casa Piedra residents attended, we always went. They had the patron’s saint’s picture and before the eats and drink it was walked in a procession through their farm with a group of musicians playing religious hymns. It usually rained that day as if God and the saints were answering our prayers. Tesquino is still brewed by the Tarahumara Indians, so no doubt the Casa Piedra tesquino came from the same recipe. The Mata house was nice with trees like a little paradise.

I will now recall a tragic, sad thing that happened at Casa Piedra in the year of 1937. It was during the summertime, when a dance was held at the schoolhouse. My brother, Luis Herrera, a cousin that was staying with us and I attended the dance. The musicians were Severo Mata and his older son Kuco; Severo played the violin and his son the guitar. The dance came to a conclusion, but a small group of men and the three of us followed the musicians to their home. Severo Mata farmed with my dad as a sharecropper. He and his family lived in dad’s old flat roof house. Before parting, Severo and his son played a few tunes before everybody went to their houses. It was already late at night and Severo had a feud with Kiki’s dad, Chon. For no apparent reason, he stopped playing and grappled Chon by the collar as if to choke him. Everybody intervened and peacefully separated the two, but nothing else was spoken.

Soon everybody dispersed. All three of us got to our house and went to sleep. Before sunrise Severo told his wife that he needed to buy a drink of sotol, so he walked about a mile and a half to buy some sotol from one of the neighbors. A group of the same men were enjoying a small fire just below the house where the sotol was achieved. Among this group of men was Kiki’s daddy, Chon and when he saw Severo coming he got away from the rest and tried to hide in the shade of the liquor man’s house. Little did he know that Severo was after a drink so he also went to the liquor man’s house. Chon found himself cornered and thought Severo was after him. As it was common, almost every house chopped wood and always left the axes outside. The ax was leaning against a wall and Chon, in desperation grabbed it and hit Severo twice killing him instantly. That was a sad situation for all of Casa Piedra.

It was the beginning of the end, as families started moving out. As time went by, World War II started and more families went away looking for good jobs and better living. Severo had a family, the youngest a four-year-old daughter died shortly after the death of her daddy. The cause of her death was grief and it was very sad. Severo was a good hard-working man and could do many kinds of jobs. He was a good carpenter, mason or adobe and bricklayer and a good farmer. During round-ups, he used to cook for and feed the cowboys. He could also work cattle. His only fault was not being able to control his liquor and often got in different feuds.

All the Casa Piedra residents were Catholic and a priest from Marfa would go about three times a year to serve Mass. These services were held either at our house, the Russell residence or more often at the Feleciano Mata residence. Feliciano Mata was on of the Casa Piedra founder’s sons. His father was Dionicio Mata, the first man to settle and own most of the Casa Piedra and Punta del Agua properties. He traded with William Russell. William Russell was my great grandfather who owned land in the outskirts of Presidio, so he traded it to Dionicio Mata for Punta del Agua and also the present Russell Ranch headquarters.

New house built in 1933, front of Daddy

Conrado’s store and Post Office entrance

Conchita enjoys spending time in the museum she started

Conchita has spent numerous hours collecting antiques,

pictures and old items of interest and converting

the Casa Piedra Store/Post Office into a museum

At the start of school from our new home, corrals had not been built yet. A small 12 feet by 12 feet corral was erected close to the east side of the house. This pen was erected of barbwire; it just had three strands so that I could pen up the burro on which to go to school on. One day we were feeding him green corn stalks and I got inside the pen to chop the stalks in small pieces to feed the burro. While I was busy chopping, the burro reared on me and kicked me several times. He kicked me out of the pen. Mama saw the action and hollered for dad to go for my aid. I was put in a canvas cot in the living room. I had several kicks plainly marked in my legs.

A doctor was visiting Mr. Tom Rawls, who were good friends and often came to stay at the San Jacinto ranch. The doctor happened to come by to buy things at the store. Daddy had him check me to see if I needed to be taken to Marfa for further check ups. The doctor, upon checking me, found out that I didn’t have any broken bones and advised dad and mom to keep me in the cot for three days and that I should be all right. I was soon up and around and this ordeal was soon forgotten. I soon was riding the burro and going to school. He was so good at running to school and back that in less than ten minutes I’d get there and I’d tie him to a mesquite bush close to school. Sometimes, I’d ride him bare back for not having enough time to saddle him up. I rode him until I graduated and had to go to Marfa to school. On the last year of school at Casa Piedra, my little sister Conchita had to start school. I took her on the burro. At first she was very scared when the burro was running. She often cried but I don’t remember of her ever falling off. I had a way to make the burro lay down and Conchita would get off or on the burro as he was lying down. He stayed fat and was the admiration of a lot of people. He always stood out from all the other neighbors’ burros. As the years went by and while I was serving in the U.S. Army overseas, daddy sold him for $10.00, but I heard that he soon died of old age and starvation. It saddened me to hear the end of our faithful and such dependable transportation animal.

I need to mention the one animal that I got so attached to in my Casa Piedra boyhood days. When my brother and my sister went to Austin to school, daddy and mama and Conchita went with them taking them to school and to see where they were to stay, etc. I stayed at home taking care of things. A man, Francisco Alvarado from Redford came to help me out with the post office business and to see that everything concerning the postal business was properly done, because dad, mom and Conchita were gone for about a week or ten days.

Before leaving daddy told me that if I stayed he’d buy me a filly owned by one of our neighbors. It was a beauty and I quickly accepted. I was thrilled to own such a pretty animal. She had just been weaned and was not over one year old. A registered sorrel stallion named “Tony” owned by our aunt Lucia H. Russell had sired her. This filly looked just like the best of the quarter horses looks and conformation. I soon started training her and being just as gentle to her as I could. In about a year, I broke her to ride and she turned out to be gentle and real good. I soon found out that she was fast to run. One day a neighbor and rodeo man approached me for a bet between his horse and my filly or mare; she was already four years old. I soon accepted and the bet was $100.00. One day in August was established for the race. It rained a lot before the race and I didn’t have a dry place to ready her for the race. Being a young horse at the start of the race she was spooked by the signalman being on her side and waving his hat as a sign to start. With this handicap the other horse won, but a second race was immediately had on which she plainly won. People all around got heated up especially the poor losers. Daddy upon seeing the commotion had me call off any future races and soon forced me to sell my mare against my will. After I sold my mare, my love for horses started fading away. I got to own and train two or three other horses, but they never had the speed and rein flexibility that my mare had.

My unforgotten mare (SEDA) SEDA before the race

Seda and daddy’s horse (8-17-40)

For many years later, I used to dream about still owning my mare. She was the talk of the town and I wish I could have had her until she died of old age. My father never realized what pain he had caused me. Every time I’d see the movie “Black Beauty” I’d always think of my mare. Once I saw a movie about a little boy riding a

horse without headgear and saddle at full speed. I repeated this stunt on my mare and sure–n-off, I did it without any accident or regrets. Sometimes I was very daring. I once chased a deer on her at full speed and soon caught up with it, I felt that nothing could beat her at running. I used to rope calves on her, especially that this was a common thing with wormy calves that we had to doctor every year.

One day, not long after the race, a rancher came, upon hearing about my mare. He came with one of our ranch neighbors, Mr. Engram Mills. He asked me what I’d take for my mare. I told him nothing less than $500.00. I really didn’t have her for sale. He offered $200.00. Daddy heard the offer and immediately had me close the deal not realizing that selling her was the last thing on my mind. As I mentioned before, my entire calves, cows and horses sale always went to help on other expenses and obligations that daddy had. He kept my account of earnings in his ledger, as he was excellent with his bookkeeping. I never asked him for money but some how I always seemed to have some spending money with other small endeavors. As an example I’d raise a few gourds for sale, planted a small plot of beans and than sold what I harvested. I was always on the look out for making profit. My mother once had a small gourd she used for knitting socks. It broke one day and she gave me the seeds. I planted these seeds and soon, I was in the gourd selling business. People would buy them for decorating different home beautifying arrangements. This endeavor worked real well as I made a few dollars.

Once, a railroad worker living in Plata was being transferred. He had about twenty-five fryer hens that he could not take with him. He gave me a good price for them and I bought them. I took a big cage to put them in. I got a ride to Plata with the cage. Upon returning I took a chance to flag a ride back and got lucky and I was soon on my way back with the loaded cage. I soon turned them loose and they began disturbing daddy’s fertilized trees. They were spreading fertilized soil away from the tree pods. This offended my father and he got a broom to beat my chickens and chased them out and away from the peach trees. I soon gathered all my fryers and sold them, not realizing much profit. I had learned my lesson.

Going back to my mare, I did have an accident. One day she threw me off bucking right down the hill from the house to the corral. I always wore spurs but I really never needed to use them on her and should’ve never worn them while riding her. I had ridden her a few hours and came back, got off to open the gate going to the corral. I accidentally spurred her as I was getting back on her. She bucked me off and hurt me as the horn of the saddle hit me on my seat and I had to stay in bed for three days. Daddy objected to me riding her again, but I knew it was my fault that she had bucked. I recovered and was soon riding her again.

I will now tell about an ordeal that happened one day that daddy went to Marfa and left mama, Conchita and myself to look after things. This reminded me of the gun days of the past. It was deer hunting season and Henry Licon went out hunting on the Canyon Ranch. He was wearing a big straw sombrero and looked much like one of Pancho Villa’s soldiers. He was coming back to Casa Piedra as he saw a truck coming on the same road. Carlos Valverde was the man driving the truck. Henry pulled a stunt on him and jokingly hollers for him to stop. Carlos had had a feud with a Mexican man from across Redford on the Mexican side at one time. This man had told Carlos that some day he was going to come to kill him. Of course when Carlos saw Henry Licon he immediately thought it was the Mexican man. He never looked back and sped up his truck and soon caught up with my uncle Jerry that also was coming from Presidio. Carlos stopped him and told him to be aware and to spread the word of this mad man coming armed and with bad intentions. Of course, uncle Jerry did what was right; he came to warn mama and me to be aware. We, at the time had about three neighbors buying at the store. We were almost in panic as we saw a man riding a black horse like he was coming toward our house and store.

We soon armed everyone at the store and placed a man by each window and got everyone ready for the outcome. The man on the black horse turned back like he was looking for an exit, back away from our house. Things then relaxed and nerves eased as soon as the man on the black horse decided to turn again, but headed back towards where he had come from. It so happened that we were not told that Henry was riding a mule, so the man in the black horse was just a neighbor looking and tracking his burro. His name was Antonio Ybarra, an old man. Carlos Valverde was at the time working for Mr. Tom Rawls and had gone by our place not stopping so we didn’t have any details about the armed Mexican. Carlos summoned Mr. Rawls and next day they came to Casa Piedra, armed and looking and asking about the whereabouts of the armed bandit. It all turned out to be the biggest joke talked about for a long time. What really happened, we later learned, was that Carlos Valverde owed this man from Mexico some sotol that he had promised to pay for and hadn’t, so this man tried to scare Carlos and get him to pay him so the mind does funny things sometimes.

MANDO GOES TO MARFA HIGH SCHOOL

I graduated from the Casa Piedra elementary school in May of 1941. I had finished the eighth grade. There was just one place and one town for high school, that was nearest home and that was Marfa. We always had our cousins Danny and Lucas Herrera coming over to stay during the summer, so it seemed natural for me to ask uncle Lucas and his wife Chelo if I could stay with them during the school season. They accepted and I helped them with their grocery store after school hours. For some reason I regret imposing on my relatives in such a manner. Daddy gave them $25.00 a month for my room and board. This kept up till the end of school in May.

Uncle Lucas had a curfew and plainly told me that if I stayed out later than 10:00 p.m., not to expect him to open the door to let me in. As a young boy, I often visited with some of my schoolmates and got out later than 10:00 p.m. about twice. I knew I had to stay outside but luckily the car doors were open, so I weathered the freezing night in the car. It was obvious that my uncle had all the reason for the 10:00 p.m. curfew as he tried to keep me from straying and forgetting to come home and maybe not do my homework. This school that I went to was the Blackwell school. All Hispanics kids were to go there until graduating to junior high. It was a pretty segregated situation and new to me as I was used to having a few Anglos students in the Casa Piedra school. On my second year or 10^th grade, I imposed on my other relatives, the Natividad Vasquez family. They were very kind to me, as my cousin Fidel, their oldest son, and I grew up almost together from the time we were kids to our teenage years. We always enjoyed each other’s company until he left for the army in early spring of 1943.

Going back to my school days, I always liked all sports. At Casa Piedra school we only had softball and that’s all we played all the time. When I came to Marfa, the kids played football, basketball and softball. First, at the beginning of school, they played football. In the middle of winter they played indoor basketball and in spring it was softball. My second year at Marfa School, I played football. Being that I was new at it, I was not in varsity but I never missed practice. My team got to be coached by the best coach and this was his first year in Marfa. He was coach Bodie Hunter. That year, 1942, was wartime and everything was rationed, so the band never traveled when we played out of town. That year we never lost a game and came out winning bi-district, a big plus for the Marfa school sportsmanship record. I well remember the last game we played. It was in the daytime with Iraan. Iraan had never lost to Marfa and they took it very hard. They were a little ahead until by a freak of nature, Hector Acre caught a lost pass intended for one of the pass catchers and scored a touchdown. That ended the game and the Short Horns won by just a slight margin.

MANDO JOINS THE ARMY 1943

Mando at age of 18

In September of 1943, I joined the army. Little did I know that I could have volunteered and signed up with the 77 field artillery unit that was stationed in Marfa. It was a good outfit. A few of the local boys had joined it. This would have solved my going to the relatives and imposing situations that I was to regret all my life.

The place of my induction was Fort Bliss in El Paso. I only stayed there about four weeks and soon wound up in Fort Knox, Kentucky: a big replacement center. I got there on Halloween night of 1943. They put us on the train at El Paso and it took us four days to get to Fort Knox. We had a long lay over at Memphis, Tenn. The army had a lot of tarpaper rooms for layovers until we were assigned to different companies with better living conditions for our six-month basic training, which ended in March the following year. The training was composed of all army combat activities. This consisted of tank warfare, artillery, demolition and infantry and getting acquainted with all kinds of weapons and self-defense tactics. It was a good training but soon it was over. They sent us home on a week’s leave. We went to Fort Meade, Maryland and kept us getting closer to the port of embarkation, which was Camp Shanks, New York. We'd stayed there about a month before, being loaded on barges down the Hudson River toward the New York harbor.

Going back to my leave, mama, of course, always worried about my brother and I. He had already been sent to Australia at New Guinea, a combat zone. Josie, whom I later married, and my godmother, aunt Tomasa Herrera Rodriguez, took me to the departing train and to my farewell. It was a sad situation, as many of our boys never came back.

Returning now to my army career . . .

We shipped out from the New York harbor and loaded up on may 10^th. Going up the gangway, our names were called and a doughnut and coffee was given to us by a group of Red Cross nurses on our way to different holds in the ship. In each compartment there were canvas beds stacked six or eight on top of each other. Each soldier carried a full load and a rifle. The backpack was a horseshoe shaped roll and a duffle bag besides, all carried by hand. As soon as we got assigned to a bed, we unloaded our pack and rifle and felt much better, relieved. It soon got to be nighttime and we halfway slept, but sometime before sunrise we could hear the ocean water hitting the side of the ship and that meant we were moving. In the morning we lined up for breakfast on the deck and this took up two or three hours. Next came dinnertime and again it took two or three hours, only two meals were served all day. We soon started getting seasick and sometimes didn’t feel like eating anything. We were allowed to walk on the upper deck and as we did, we could see what a convoy this was, ships and destroyers, all around and as far as our eyes could see. We couldn’t help but feel more secure. We noticed that all our sea ferrying was done in a zigzag formation to prevent the German submarines from zeroing in on us.

Before I go further I forgot that after our leave we were to report at Fort Meade, Maryland and we stayed there about a month before going to Camp Shanks, New York. It was right by the Hudson River, as I mentioned before.

We loaded up on about the middle of May of 1944, as I mentioned before, and got to England on May 22. It took us eleven days to get there on a liberty ship by the name of USS Timothy Dwight. After unloading in Liverpool harbor we were railroaded to a small town called Frome and then to our tent city close by. It was close to D-day so we were restricted from leaving our staying quarters. They had us exercising regularly while at the same time we kept writing letters back home. D-day was still kept a secret from us but we knew something big was taking place, as a large formation of airplanes kept flying over us all day. As days went by we suddenly got orders to get ready to move and the orders came on June 28, 1944. We were loaded up on small ships and got in rough choppy waters soon after.

Most of us got seasick again, but shortly caught sight of Omaha beach. By the way, our loading harbor in England was Southampton. And as soon as we unloaded we were assigned to different combat divisions and battalions. I got assigned to the third army, 35^th division, and 737-tank battalion. We were tankers, supporting the infantry on attack missions. We stayed assigned to the thirty-fifth infantry division until after suffering heavy casualties and had to regroup. The thirty-fifth infantry stayed with us all the way through France when we were ordered to dig in our tanks to be used as artillery until more forces were available. The whole 3^rd army was stopped. The break through came after the battle of Saint Lo in France. The going was very slow on account of so many hedgerows that were in all of Normandy. The Germans were well dug in and caused many casualties on our side. I got to be among the first replacements in my unit. I well remember that there were fourteen of us and only two were left unscathed till the end of the war on May 8, 1945. There were many casualties in my tank outfit; it was company B 737-tank battalion.

1945 In Germany Walker, Meyer, Romano, & Vasquez

Back in Normandy my first assignment was to clean the inside of a tank that had been knocked out by a German bazooka killing the gunner inside the turret, much blood and human bone debris was splashed everywhere. I cleaned everything inside with hot soapy water and soon this tank was back in action again with the small hole welded and filled in. My first action was to come before the taking of Saint Lo, a well-held German stronghold that later got flattened out by excessive bombing. Before the battle of Saint Lo, my company got called to probe and destroy enemy positions. I had not been assigned to a tank as yet, but one of the tankers got hurt and I was ordered to stand by and replace him if need be, but the hurt tanker refused to be relieved. All these tanks got in a narrow sunken road that had been zeroed in by German 88 guns. They waited until most of the tanks got in the road and knocking out the rear tank first had all the rest bottled in and it turned out to be a turkey shoot for the Germans.

On this sunken road, our tanks could not fire back and most were knocked out with many casualties. The man I was to replace never came back so it was my first narrow escape. After that, things began moving and soon many German prisoners were taken and soon we were moving across France. Before the break through the biggest air bombardment took place a short distance ahead of us. I had never seen so many airplanes, the sky was full and a thundering noise was constant. We later learned that many of our bombs had landed in our lines causing many casualties. While we stayed in Normandy we were impressed by the French as to how they were excellent wine, cider and cognac makers. They drank cider instead of water and their houses all had a winery smell. A small semi-sweet, almost bitter apple grew all over the countryside and so no doubt their supply of apples for their beverages never ended.

The next small fight came next to Normandy called Mortain. Company A lost a few tanks there and I lost a friend I had just met the day before. His name was Pasqual Acosta from Pecos, Texas. Soon we found out that our tanks were no match for the German 88 guns, whether on tanks or artillery anywhere they’d hit us our tanks would get penetrated and burn up every time. The only place our tanks could knock them out was hitting their tracks, which was not so easy to do. To our favor, there was always the quantity of fighter planes that so many times came to our rescue. When the war ended we heard that the Germans had a nickname for our tanks, they called them Ronson lighters because anywhere they’d hit them they’d light up and burn.

I almost forgot to mention all the places that I got to see beginning in Fort Knox, Kentucky. The countryside was beautiful always green and beautiful homes built as a ranch or farm surroundings with big barns and livestock. Louisville was the city nearest Fort Knox and we used to go there on weekend passes. I noticed that they made their own whisky and it had many different trade brands. Some called it bourbon, and every bar served it and seemed more popular than beer.

After our training ended, we got a week’s pass home, as I mentioned before. We got transferred to Fort Meade, Maryland. It was also very green and beautiful countryside. Fort Meade is situated close to Washington D.C. and Baltimore. I got to visit the capitol but from the outside only, as we needed special passes to go inside. I was satisfied with what I saw, but needed more time to see so many points of interest. Baltimore, as I remember, was situated north of Fort Meade and Washington D.C. to the south. Baltimore is just a big city and I can’t remember anything special. We got transferred to Camp Shanks, N.Y. after being in Fort Meade, Maryland for about a month. Camp shanks is a few miles from the Hudson River that goes all the way to New York City. There is a small town on one side of the Hudson. The name of this town is Nyack and across on the other side is Terry town.

On weekends we used to visit these towns. We’d pay a ferryboat to take us across to Terrytown, as it was bigger and neater than Nyack. The countryside of New York State is beautiful. Lots of vegetation and beautiful rolling hills and good paved roads to enjoy the scenery. I went to New York City once. We went by train both ways. I think it was twenty-two miles from Camp Shanks. I did not enjoy going there as much, being that it was very expensive, especially the better places. One interesting thing I remember about New York City was the crossing by the ferry going to Manhattan Island. It carried many people and it was huge. We did our sightseeing by taxi, but soon we found our way back to Camp Shanks. Our money was limited so we could not stay longer and soon we got orders to get ready for our long journey across the Atlantic Ocean from New York Harbor to Liverpool Harbor in England, as I mentioned before.

I remember a few cities in France that we passed by after the break through in Normandy. These bigger cities were Le Mans and Orleans. By-passing Paris, this was sometime in the month of August.

I can’t remember just what date it was that the orders finally came for my tank unit to pull out and start covering territory. It seemed that a big lighting and thundering storm had started, because of such a large front and large guns went firing at the same time. We did not fight right away but as we were moving we met a lot of our army trucks full of German prisoners of war. We drove by a large French city, it was Nancy but we kept going until we were close to the Siegfried barrier. After some time there, we used to take our tanks for repairs on the out skirts of Nancy. We called it the ordnance depot. When we took our tanks we got to see General George S. Patton in person. They picked my tank for an experiment by placing a flamethrower in place of the machine gun in the assistant driver’s side. General Patton came to see if it would work better, but he soon rejected it as he saw that the machine gun was a lot more efficient. That was the reason he had come to the ordnance depot.

Going back with the tank already fixed, we got back to our company and day after day we went slowly through some woods and did some firing towards the Siegfried line but didn’t try to cross it. Maybe the higher command was waiting for a large break through. It was December right after the Battle of the Bulge had started, that we got our orders to go to Luxemburg and help hold the front as the Germans were trying to break through our lines there. I well remember that we drove from eastern France all the way, days and nights, until we got to Luxemburg. Soon we were fighting, but luckily met very little resistance. We kept closing the bulge from the south and soon it was December 24^th, Christmas Eve. Two days later they gave us Christmas dinner and all the trimmings. For each tank they gave us a bright colored panel to fasten for identification, since the Germans had captured some of our own tanks. The panels kept our own troops from firing on us.

Going back to our traveling through France. Every town and village welcomed us as we went through their towns with smiles and flowers to make us feel we were on the road to victory. This happened just before we slowed down on account of fuel shortage. The Germans that were fleeing from the Italian front were using the same roads we had used a few hours before and the French people were puzzled thinking the Germans were chasing us. A large battle would have taken place except that the German convoy took another route where the roads exited. It might have been that they saw us and tried to avoid us. They were just going back to regroup in their own country.

When the Battle of the Bulge ended, or I should say campaign, we started moving toward the Rhine River. The Rhine River crossing was our biggest obstacle before going to the German heartland and Berlin. We encountered small resistance mostly to slow us down. The Germans would ambush us or set mines on the roads that they knew we’d use. Whenever the terrain permitted they’d fire at us and our tanks with their famous 88 cannons, which were very effective, as I have mentioned before. On our way to the Rhine River I well remember our company commander Capt. McCue getting hit by a mine as he was riding a jeep ahead of our column. We later heard that he had died.

On March 3, l945, I remember the loss of life and tank that day. We were moping up an area that had mostly flat land but on the west side was a canyon and a rock quarry. We drove our tanks to the edge of this canyon when all hell broke loose.

Gun emplacements were well concealed in this quarry and every tank was knocked out as they were all lined up. My tank was the last one hit. My tank got hit in the engine compartment as we were trying to get away from such accurate fire. It was the last tank hit, but we all got out and lived to talk about it. There was dead and injured tankers on our side, I’d say that at least eleven had been knocked out and they burned for hours, even during the night. Every tank carried five crewmembers. It was the tank commander, the gunner, the loader, the driver and assistant driver or bog gunner and that is where I was. I plainly remember our tank commander, he was Corporal Woods, gunner, Robert Patino, Patino is from El Paso and I plan to visit him this year, the loader was Swenson, but I can’t remember who the driver was. Anyway we ran and ran on plowed fields until we came to a ditch with running water.

Robert Patino and Mando (2-21-02)

Bullets were flying all around us. All five of us found a dug out where somebody had done some dirt hauling. It served well as cover. Our tank commander Woods and one of our other companions decided to take a chance and run back to our lines. Patino, Swanson and I decided to stay until about mid-night, to get back to our lines. At that time our side of the front used big reflectors for night patrolling, we guided our way back by the reflectors and luckily made it back safely. Later we learned that we had gone over a minefield that had been placed in front of a small town where the rest of my company was staying. After we got back we found a small house with a basement but it was already loaded with our buddies and civilians and no more room was available. I was too exhausted to go any further, so I slept in the kitchen. The Germans fired their canons into this town all night, but luckily none ever hit us.

Going back after we were refueled in September, I remember we had a close encounter with German artillery and counter attacks. We were ordered to take a hill that had changed hands three times. Some tanks were called from the whole battalion. My tank was one of those called to action. We re-took what we called Purple Heart hill and were ordered to stay there all night and pull guard duty on each of the tanks. At early morning sunrise we were counter attacked by a large German force. We were ordered to get to the edge of a hill where they were attacking and open fire and keep our tanks in motion back and forth. One of these movements caused our tank to loose a track, so we could not catch up moving and firing, so we were a sitting duck. All five of us got out and the Germans were firing at us with mortar fire. Their fire was so close to us as we were lying down under the other tanks so their shells never did hit us. When the firing stopped we got in the other tanks and were brought back to our starting point.

The company and battalion commanders were well pleased and the hill was forever secured. The Germans had lost heavily. This action happened before the Battle of the Bulge, but I cannot remember the exact date. I only remember we still had Captain Vaughn but he soon was relieved after suffering a nervous break down. He had been with us from day one in Normandy and France. After the Battle of the Bulge, we started moving again. I well remember another close call. We had traveled towards the River Rhine, but we stopped on top of a small hill on which there was a big barn on it with a lot of horse hay inside; this made good bedding. Robert Patino, Mike Carbin and I were fixing our bedrolls for a good night rest when all hell broke loose. The Germans had earlier lined up their guns on this barn. We all three started praying, as pieces of clay roofing began falling on us after each hit by the German artillery. There was a basement but it was already loaded with civilians and our own soldiers. I decided to sleep in our tank that was stationed right by the barn. I don’t recall where my buddies slept, but we all came out unhurt that night, except that Mike Carbin got killed later on March 3, 1945 at that big ambush I already mentioned at the rock quarry. Sometime before March 3, 1945, we were in a moving and moping mission and as we were climbing a hill our tank got hit in the rear, but no harm was done to our tank or us. It was the only tank in my company with a 76-millimeter cannon and the only Ford. I should say that it was a newer type. The neat hole was later filled and welded and luckily no other parts were needed. After the big tank battle and lives lost on the March 3^rd, ambush, there were no more tank replacements, so we rode on back of supply trucks toward the heart of Germany.

The Rhine River crossing was done at Worms Bridge. I cannot remember if it was an army built bridge or one already there. While traveling on the back of the supply trucks we saw our first jet airplane. It was a German jet and the first one seen in my life. It flew very low and fast. We, thinking that it was going to strike us, got off the trucks real fast. My automatic gun hit the ground fast and went off automatically, but luckily no body got hurt. This type of gun lacked a safety button. It was all steel and very crudely made. It looked like a grease gun, so we renamed it the grease gun. The German jet never struck us so it was probably just an observation plane. We rode on the supply trucks all the way to Frankfort, a big German city. The trucks stopped there and we four got off and stayed awhile visiting a zoo close by. The trucks pulled off and left us stranded. We started looking for a place to spend the night when late in the evening we were picked up by one of our scouts, so we incorporated back to our unit. Our unit was stationed on the south side of Frankfort, so we stayed there a few days. We kept moving toward the center of Germany, not much resistance was encountered, and we just had a few tanks left since the March 3^rd ambush that I mentioned before.

May 10-18, 1945 on a 7 day furlough

at the French Riviera, Mando & buddy

THE ONLY TIME I SAW GENERAL GEORGE S. PATTON

Soon after I was assigned to the 737^th Tank Battalion “B” Company supporting the 35^th Infantry Division, General George S. Patton was assigned to command and take full charge of the third Army of which was part of my unit. This occurred during the break through at Normandy.

Our soldiers had a nickname for the General. They called him “Blood and Guts”, referring to his guts and their blood. He forever loved combat and at times he would spear head an assault to show the troops that he could face danger just like the rest of the combat troops. We could not help but admire his valor and leadership that even gained respect from the enemy as they knew that whatever the objective, Patton’s troops always achieved it.

As most Generals, Patton would at times over do his authority and cost our soldiers much blood shed. I will make note of one instance when he ordered a small detail of troops to go behind the enemy lines to a German Prison Compound to free his son-in-law and the rest of our soldiers held there as war prisoners. The whole detail got killed or captured and only two returned to tell about it. This action was unnecessary since it was pretty near the end of the war and soon they all would have been freed without the sacrifice of so many. I always admired his leadership and valor that was so outstanding even among our other Generals.

Sometime in August of 1944, after the breakthrough at Normandy we by passed Paris and proceeded beyond Nancy, a city on the eastern border of France and next to the Sigfried Barrier between France and Germany. Our tank was due for repair and maintenance so we took it to the Army Ordinance Depot on the out skirts of Nancy. General Patton came by to inspect a changeover from the tank thirty caliber machine gun to a flame thrower mounted on the assistant driver’s side and operated by the assistant driver, and that was my position in our tank. Of all the tanks there at Ordinance, mine was chosen for the test. General Patton walked in front of my tank and went all the way to the Mess Hall. He was wearing an Ivory Handled Revolver, and that I could plainly see. I am sure he had the other one, but from that side I just saw one. He was tall in stature, well over six feet tall, a good size body but not obese. General Patton also had big bushy eyebrows that plainly stood out and were very noticeable. His stride was plainly seen as one of a full experienced soldier. His uniform was well fitted along with a nice leather belt and fancy captured buckle to hold his famous pistols. They drove my tank a short distance from the Ordinance Depot to try out the Flame Thrower aiming the flame at some old wood and boards. The General was very dissatisfied and ordered it removed and to resume with the thirty caliber machine gun. He was highly profane and jokingly said that he could piss a hotter and further stream, everybody laughed and forever talked about it.

A few months after the war had ended in Europe, General Patton and his driver had a terrible accident in their jeep apparently going on a pheasant hunt. The General got badly hurt and passed away a few days later. That ended the legend of our famous and unforgotten leader.

WORLD WAR II COMES TO AN END

The day the war ended on May 8^th, 1945, we were ordered to go on a mopping exercise. I rode on the back of one of our tanks as infantry with an M-1 rifle but no shots were fired as soon the order came to go back to the starting point and cease firing that the war had come to an end. I took part in many objectives from the start in Normandy till the end of the war and what I mentioned were those of most importance that have remained in my mind forever because they were close calls.

As the war ended we were stationed in Wittenberg, the place where Martin Luther wrote his religious scripts. Every day and night we were there, many German soldiers came to surrender leaving with us many vehicles of all kinds. One of our soldiers got past his limit drinking and he couldn’t find his way back to our camp and two German soldiers found him and brought him back before surrendering themselves. It seemed that most of us wanted to travel and see the country all around us. Three of us got a German jeep and took off. We wound up in Czechoslovakia. Every town was celebrating victory in Europe. These Czeck people were very friendly and invited us to a big dance hall. We went around a table with a large egg basket on the center. They brought us each a large glass mug with beer and they cracked a raw egg in each glass. Knowing that we might offend them by refusing to drink we drank beer, egg and all and found out that it was not so bad tasting. Just before the music started a girl for each of us came to invite us to dance. We did and soon a big circle was formed around us and we were privileged to dance the first piece of music. They were truly good to us but after the dance we could not find our way back to our camp. We told them where we wanted to go and soon they had a guide with us. This guide took us to one town, got off and another would take his place and finally we were back to our headquarters.

Soon after we moved to a town by the name of Aldenback and there we stayed until the end of July 1945. This town also had a lot of history. Many hundreds of years back, Hannibal came across the Swiss alps with elephants and camped in this old town of Aldenback, it’s in what is called Bavaria, a state in Germany. We enjoyed our stay here, made friends with the locals. We’d buy their freshly brewed beer everyday and for pass time we played softball. Soon we played against the rest of the companies; there were many teams. While we were staying at Aldenback, the company gave me a trip to the French Riviera and at least one other of my buddies went also. They flew us in a P-47 airplane. This type of an airplane was very much used during the war as troop carrier and cargo plane. We flew over the Alps and it seemed to barely clear those snow covered mountains. We landed in Nice, a tourist center in the French Riviera. Before landing we could see the beauty of the landscape and the beautiful blue ocean water. We vacationed there about four days and everything was paid for us and there was much to see and enjoy. At times we’d rent a paddleboat and it was fun to paddle it by the seashore. Time went by fast and soon we had to fly back to our unit.

June 13, 1945

Before leaving the airport to Riviera

Coming back we flew by Marseille, a big seaport city on the French shore. This time they flew us around the Alps and straight back to Bavaria in Germany. Soon after getting back, orders came to get ready to ship out to the states. We traveled a long way by land and in a couple of days we got to Le Harve Harbor where we soon got on a ship bound for the good old U.S.A. They soon told us that we were no longer tankers and that our unit would be an amphibious battalion. They told us that we’d be going home on a leave and soon we’d be training on these landing barges called alligators. Low and behold the war with Japan ended two days before landing in Boston harbor. They sent us home and gave us a three-month furlough. Later they gave us an option to either get a discharge or reenlist in the army. I chose to get my discharge and on November11^th, 1945 I was discharged from the U.S. army.

MANDO COMES HOME FROM THE SERVICE

Coming home was a great joy to see all my loved ones again. Josephine and I again met in Marfa after so many months away and facing danger for so long. We wrote to each other many letters and that helped me much, especially on so many close encounters. Our love letters were always encouragement and a will to keep on going and praying to God that I’d make it back safely. Later I was home at Casa Piedra with mom and dad and my sisters Carmen and Conchita. Mama cried of joy and we all thanked God I was home at last. I enjoyed my furlough and from August to November 1945, time went by fast. I’d come often to Marfa from Casa Piedra and take Josephine for a ride and it seemed we always wanted to be together, a proof that our love for each other was stronger than ever. In November of 1945, I went to Fort Bliss and got my discharge. I was very much confused and didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have a trade or profession. I should have gone back to finish high school and then college, but I didn’t do it. Another three months slipped by and still I was undecided. Josephine finally made my mind up for me. She plainly told me that she could not wait for me any longer. My guess was that she was afraid she’d loose me. So I soon replied that I didn’t want to loose her, and a wedding date was set.

We married on Feb. 20, 1946 and I will remember that we were the first ones to celebrate our wedding dance at the U.S.O. building in what’s now the VFW building. By first, I mean of the returning veterans to celebrate the wedding dance there. Jobs were scarce in Marfa as usual but I kept looking for a job. We were staying at Josie’s mothers, rented little house but soon we saw we were imposing. In the mean time I finally found a job at the air base in Marfa. The air base closed so our job was to crate everything the government wanted to salvage. I worked there about three months. At this time I had rented an apartment and we both felt like we were finally living independently, but I should add that after we got married I made an application at New Mexico State University to learn aircraft work or to be an airplane mechanic. This field was mostly for veterans and was paid by our government. It sounded good, so I signed up and went there leaving Josie to stay with her mother. I soon found out that the university was not equipped to teach us about airplane mechanic. I felt that I was losing time and soon I left and came back to Marfa. Being out of transportation my brother went and got me back as he was the one to take me there in my father’s 1941 model Chevy. Car. When I got back is when I got that temporary job as packer at the Marfa Air Force Base that had closed.

I still wanted to learn mechanics so daddy came in one day and I asked him to go with me to Casner Motor Co., Marfa’s Chevrolet dealer. He knew the manager and shop foreman there being that he had bought cars there in past years. He introduced me and I asked for a job as a mechanic’s helper. The government would pay me and no doubt pay them also for my training. Thank God they accepted, so I started working there in 1947. The training was to last two years or as long as my stay in the army. All this time I did not only do mechanics help but any thing else that they needed me to do including cleaning restrooms and working on any kind of endeavor.

During this time I bought a 1939 Chevy pickup from uncle Miguel Nieto from Presidio. It needed many repairs; so it served me well to practice my trade fixing it. It took me six months to get it up in shape and I even had it painted. I felt real proud of my work and having transportation for my family and me. Josie and I had our first child, Olga. We paid rent, but felt that we finally were self supporting. Upon ending my term on the job training, I decided that I wanted to go to El Paso and apply for a mechanics job there. I got a job with a big Chevrolet dealer, Lone Star Motor Co. I worked there about one year and did fairly good, but I could not save any money as I worked on commission basis and sometimes the work slacked off so I wasn’t gaining anything. I had Josie and baby Olga with me and it was always a hardship for all of us. One day a friend came to visit us. He was from Presidio but was working in the interior of Mexico as a livestock inspector with the U.S. government. His name was Ismael Spencer and a good friend of mine. Back then, they needed livestock inspectors to control and eradicate the dreaded hoof and mouth disease on livestock. He talked me into applying for the job and that he’d recommend me. I accepted and soon I applied and they accepted me. I took an airplane from El Paso and soon was in Mexico City in their main office. I waited a couple of days for my assignment and it finally came.

I was taken to Queretaro, a state and capital named city in the central of the republic. From Queretaro I was assigned to a sector further south to a village by the name of Coroneo, Guanajuato. I worked there about a year inspecting and vaccinating livestock. After my year was up I was able to take my family to Mexico, as I said before we just had our first child Olga. I found a good apartment for them in the city of Queretaro, but I could only see them on weekends, as I had to stay out in my assigned sector. Everything went well. Another year went by but I came down sick with stomach trouble and came near having to leave my job. They sent me to a good doctor in Mexico City and in a few days I was well again and able to carry on with my job. I was given another sector further south from where I was before and could not see my family, even on weekends, so Josephine and Olga came back to Marfa to wait for me until my tour of duty was over. After coming on a leave and two years of working in Mexico I decided to quit my job and come to Marfa again. I figured that my health came first after going through my sickness. It was a very good experience and a good paying job. I saved enough money to make a good start on buying a home and a new 1951 model Chevy Pickup and money left over to open my own garage business.

I went to Van Horn, Texas and got a job with a Chevrolet dealer as parts man. My interest in Van Horn was to buy property by the highway and build a garage there. I knew that there was more business there than in Marfa, but soon I found out that land was expensive there and having limited funds I could not do what I wanted to do. I worked there six months and I came back to Marfa. I found a job with the Plymouth and Chrysler dealer but I still wanted to open my own business. Having worked their six months I quit and in August of 1954 I opened my business on Highway 90 in West Heights. It was a very humble tin shack with space for only one car and only half of the floor was cemented. It was a hard ship but I weathered it for about a year and a half until a good man came by and offered me his garage for rent and it was much better. It could only accommodate one car but it was roomier and better walls and roof with two extra rooms for all my tools. I stayed there about a year and in December of 1958; Mr. Mack Humphrey came by and suggested to me that I rent the big garage down town that used to be the W. B. Johnson Ford dealer garage. The Chevron Oil Company owned it. I was thrilled to rent from them. I had a lot of room and could sell gasoline, batteries, tires, oil filters, oil and accessories of all kinds. My business improved and I soon hired a helper and everything for the better took place. In less than a year I was out of debt and from there on I never had to borrow any more money again. I had to borrow about two thousand dollars from the bank to pay for their 500-gallon tanks of gasoline, tires, batteries etc. For this business, it was Mr. Mack Humphreys, a good and honest friend that I could not thank enough for my good success in business. I paid rent for eleven years and in 1970, Chevron Oil Company offered me the building for sale. I soon bought it and in a short time I partitioned a small space on the front for rent. It soon was rented for a hamburger and restaurant café. It rented as a restaurant for about three years. Being unable to insure my building on account of selling gasoline and having a restaurant in the same building. I soon closed it and instead rented it to Carlos Spencer for about sixteen years. My sister in law ran the clothing store for him and always took good care of the building, especially the room where she worked.

Mando’s first garage in Marfa, Texas

Going back to 1951 the year I quit working in Mexico. I came back in December of that year and found our second child to add to our family. Emilia was born October 23, 1951, so she was just two months old. Our third child, a boy was born Feb. 15, 1953, so now we were blessed with two girls and a boy. When Loretto was born we already had a home, we felt a lot more secure and as I mentioned before, a year later in 1954 I started my own garage business and things started getting better as the years went by.

April 24, 1992 at Kenedy Nursing Home

Mando, Carmen and Sister

MY CHILDREN

Our children all finished high school and college except Emilia since she chose to go to a beautician school in El Paso. She did good and later got promoted to a beautician instructor.

Olga, the oldest, became a schoolteacher and taught for many years and retired in May of2001, but now she teaches on part time only.

Our son Loretto joined the U.S. Border Patrol after he graduated from college. Prior to joining the Border Patrol he was hired with U.S. Customs at Presidio, Texas as a Warehouse Officer from December 26, 1975 through March 13, 1976. He has been with the Border Patrol since 1976 and is in charge of the investigation unit. He has done an excellent and outstanding job for which he has received many achievement awards and citations. Whenever there is any kind of a problem between Mexico and the U.S. Immigration, he is always sent to confer and come to an agreement in Ojinaga. Any problems are soon solved, in admiration of other Border Patrol Sectors. He was stationed in Presidio as a Border Patrolman and later as an Immigration Inspector at the Port of Entry. In all this time, his good work, friendliness and kindness were noted in both border towns of Presidio and Ojinaga. Local papers regretted Loretto’s transfer and moving out to Dallas. In my whole life I can’t recall the Mexican side regretting the transfer of any of the U.S. Immigration Officer’s transfer.

After serving in Presidio, Dallas, New Orleans, Louisiana, Cotulla and Alpine, Texas he was transferred to Marfa where he is still serving and is always dedicated to his job and trying to do his best. I also admire his closeness to his family, attending every game they compete in school events in and out of town. He is always concerned with his family’s health and is always taking them for doctor’s check ups and sees they get the best of attention. My biggest admiration of him is that he never shows any regrets for the many hours he takes with his family and then keeping up with the many requirements that his job calls for.

Mando and Josie at the AMVETS Building for the Blackwell Reunion (1995)

Mama Concha outside her apartment in Marfa

MY CAREER AS A MECHANIC

I will now mention all the help that I hired since 1959 in the big garage building that I later bought. At West Heights one car garage, Mr. Santos Gonzales Sr. helped me. He was a retired and elderly man and always enjoyed watching me doing car repairs. He said he felt better staying busy so I’m very grateful for his help and kindness. By coincidence, he was also a self-employed mechanic and he built that one car garage which he operated many years and later sold. He lived close by and coming to help me was no problem. When I moved further down town it got hard for him to walk that far and soon could no longer come to help me, but he stayed long enough for me to get settled in my new place of business. My brother, Conrado Vasquez would also come and help on his days off as he was already working at the post office part time. I well remember the first week I opened my new place of business and I came down with a real bad cold and was unable to work for a whole week. Santos Gonzales and my brother kept the place open for which I was very grateful.

Mando working in his garage

I later hired a young boy, fresh out of high school, his name was Daniel Garcia, but he didn’t stay long and later was replaced by another young kid, he was Jimmy Conners, but he soon left and joined the army. Jesse Santisteban. another high school graduate came to work for me to learn about mechanics. He stayed with me about six years but he had to quit on account job being allergic to grease and oil. His hands got blistered and swollen. Luckily I got to hire a good man and a good mechanic that stayed with me twelve years until he retired at the age of sixty-two. His name was Esteban Aguilar. Soon after he retired he had a sad ending, as he was found mortally wounded under the Alamito Bridge near our house. His assailant was sent to prison for seven years.

After Esteban Aguilar retired I hired a young man who took interest in learning to repair automobiles and trucks and helped me very well in my whole garage operation. He worked with me three years and went down sick with a hard case of hepatitis, which cost him his life. I want to mention that during the years that Esteban Aguilar worked for me, I also hired Arturo Pena for three years and my son Loretto also helped me after he graduated from Sul Ross college in 1974. He stayed until he went to work for the U.S. government at the Presidio Port of Entry as Warehouse Officer in December of 1975. Also another helper that I hired was my neighbor when he was a young man, Willie Hernandez. He was always interested in learning mechanics and did well. After about two years he found a better job, so he quit and I was glad he had a good offer for a better future. In 1980 during the summer, when my young helper died, his name was Osvaldo Gonzales.

I quit hiring help and did all on my own until I sold my shop building in June of 1997. I was already past retirement age, so selling was a big relief for me. Doing house chores and taking care of the Casa Piedra estate has always been a pleasure that I still do.

January, 2002 Mando working cattle at Casa Piedra

CONCEPCION, KIKI AGUIRRE VISIT MANDO

Kiki came over to Casa Piedra to visit with me and told me about what happened to a bull he found dead at Nopal ranch back in 1982 where he worked. It was a mystery because the only thing found missing or cause of death was that it’s genitals were missing and cut out with the most precision. He immediately brought the veterinarian and the sheriff to investigate the dead bull, thinking that it had been foul play by some local neighbor. Once the vet saw the genitals missing and the clean and precise cut, he decided it was the works of the devil or devil worshipers and no further investigation was done. Mysteriously, the coyotes or buzzards did not eat the dead animal.

It was all a mystery. Kiki took a couple of pictures of the dead animal, but the film was not able to be developed, the mystery continued being that it apparently was a bright day when the photographs were taken and the developed film came out real dark like they were taken at night. Back in those days several ranchers complained about finding dead cows with their genitals and utters removed. Villains never left any evidence or any signs of human or animal footprints around the dead cows. Incidentally Kiki Aguirre’s grandfather also ranched in the Casa Piedra area. All his children came to school at Casa Piedra. I think he had three boys and six girls; one of the sons was Kiki’s daddy. Ramon Aguirre was Kiki’s grandfather.

MANDO AND THE MARFA LIGHTS

It was in the summer of 1971 while Loretto was going to college, that he took some of his band classmates to go see the Marfa mystery lights. His classmates were amazed at what they saw. For several nights they would come and observe the lights. I had heard about the lights some years back but nobody seemed to take interest and to me it seemed more like a fairy tale until Loretto took me to the Nopal ranch road. It was just on the first rise passing the Nopal ranch house. It was getting dusk in late evening and soon the lights started shinning, blinking and going off. I was amazed and soon, what came to my mind was to start advertising and showing the fascination to locals and tourists. Business had been slow and I could see the business potential these lights could bring to our town. I soon volunteered my services to both of our local motels. I was often called to take people to see the lights. These went on for years, at least over twenty years before the lights became popular.

I became a Chamber of Commerce board member and would often bring up the subject of the Marfa mystery lights for promotion and advertisement. It seemed that I always got a negative response, if not a laugh. I stayed in the chamber as a board member three years and nothing happened concerning the promotion of the Marfa mystery lights. Of course my services were always available and forever the Marfa motels kept looking me up to take viewers. The word of mouth spread and the El Paso history club wanted to come see the lights. They needed three drivers to drive three small buses to the viewing sight still at Nopal road. One of the drivers was a friend of mine, Robert Humphries. Funny part was that I had to make a believer out of him, as he did not believe the Marfa mystery lights were a mystery. I took him three times to see them before he was satisfied that they were not car lights from the Presidio highway.

The night came and the El Paso history club members all loaded up and it turned out to be a big success. The lights made a good showing and everybody was amazed and satisfied that they were a mystery. On another occasion, I was asked to take a group of ladies and their husbands to see the lights. They were the Alpine Evening Stars. I only asked them to come meet me at my shop on 131 East San Antonio Street on highway 90. My purpose was for everybody to see the long line of cars, coming by way of Alpine, just to see the now famous Marfa Mystery Lights. We counted thirty-two cars, so it was good advertisement for Marfa. Some of these Alpine men were making jokes and poking fun of our mystery lights but as soon as the lights appeared you could hear a pin drop, as they were truly astonished and surprised to see such a display of mystery. No more jokes were heard of our mystery lights and everybody was a believer. As time went by, I got to be referred to as the authority on the Marfa Mystery Lights.

I took several television station crews from Dallas, San Antonio and other Texas cities and they all took good pictures of our lights and were satisfied they were a mystery. After I left the Chamber of Commerce, the new board decided that it was about time to promote the Marfa lights.

Some years later, they decided to have a Marfa Lights Festival. It had brought lots of people from all over and it is celebrated every Labor Day weekend. This celebration starts on a Friday night with a parade that is composed of decorated floats and parade cars all lighted up with different color lights, etc. On Saturday, about midday, there is a big parade and at night a dance, the main event at the Vizcaino Park. I must also mention that on Friday night the court house street dance attracts many people because the court house is all surrounded by many vendors who sell eats, drinks and all kinds of trinkets in small sales stands and tents. On Sunday, the last of the festival, people gather around the courthouse visiting and enjoying the good food.

About twelve years ago the Texas department of transportation decided that it was about time to select a viewing site by the highway. The department investigated the Marfa Mystery Lights to be sure they were no hoax. Their investigators stayed a few days in Marfa until they were fully satisfied that the lights were a mystery. I was later chosen to pick the best site from the highway. The site I founded exists today and the state is about to enlarge it and set up a rest area with rest rooms and more space for parking. I am fully satisfied that my purpose of promoting the Marfa Mystery Lights has been achieved and my mission has been accomplished to the fullest.

My purpose, as I said before, was not for personal gain, but only for the good of Marfa businesses and I cannot take all the credit myself as there have been many good Marfa people making this happen, especially the group of students and their teachers that wrote a letter to our state representative Pete Gallego about building a rest area at the viewing site. This was done two years ago and ground breaking was done August 10, 2001. Gabriel, my grandson, took part, as he was a member of this class.

Serving in the chamber as board of director between 1975 and 1980, I also served as Marfa independent school trustee from 1970 to 1973; it was a good adventure as I learned many of the school finances. I served as board member of the S.W.T. Municipal Gas Corp. From March 3, 1987 until some of the gas line was sold and the gas company was cleared of debt in 1996, so I served over 9 years on the gas board. In 1986 I served in the appraisal district review board for three years.

In February 1999 I became a member of the Marfa and Presidio County Museum and soon was selected to be a board member of which I still am. In January of 2001, this year I was appointed as one of the members of the historical commission. This group was very active in the courthouse renovation project that was completed towards the end of 2002.

As I get ready to conclude my life story and important events that took place I must mention the struggle with my health. In 1989 I had a small operation performed on my prostate gland. I was unable to work for about a month because of a small amount of cancerous tissue that was found. I could not completely be released from check ups for a whole year. After a year, the doctor decided that for my own good it was best to have my prostate glands completely removed to keep the cancer from spreading. I fully accepted and on March of 1990 the operation took place. It was painful and very uncomfortable. After the operation it continued to be painful. The doctor ordered a series of check ups. All the follow check ups came out good and ten years have gone past. The doctor still checks me up every six months.

I developed a pain on my right ankle in 1993 and it kept on getting worse. After a check up with Dr. Dean in Midland, he said I needed an operation, so he fused my ankle in 1998. After about two months, I was over it and able to work. I felt like I was the luckiest man alive not to be bothered by pain.

My luck was short lived, as soon my right hip began to bother me. After walking or standing for long periods, it was unbearable, but I put up with it for about three years. I was always very active and never let my hip pain keep me from doing everything that needed to be done.

MANDO RETIRES 1997

I sold my shop building in July of 1997 and retired doing mechanical work. I was 72 years of age already, much past retirement age for the average hard worker. It was hard on me working at the auto shop and taking care of the ranch, especially fixing water gaps, feeding, hauling and selling when cattle had to be sold. My sister and brother-in-law were still working when I took over and so they couldn’t stay very long and help. Now they are retired and able to help me out about two weeks average every month. They have been a big help to me. They relieve me so that I can do my Marfa home chores and keep everything in shape that needs attending to.

This year, 2001, on June 4^th, Dr. John Dean operated on my hip. All the encouragement I got from everybody came down to be so discouraging. We later found out that my operation was the type that takes the longest to heal. The doctor did not explain before hand so we were all confused. When it’s a full hip replacement, as in my case, it takes the longest to heal. To be painless it takes even longer also. Today, August 21, 2001, I am still limping and using my cane. The only thing I can do is to be patient and accept what will be in store for me. There are so many people in worse shape, so I have to count my many blessings.

Rito Rivera, Polo Sotelo and Mando had a conjunto and

would practice once a week at the shop

For my closing I will also include my encounter with politics. In the year 2000, month of March, my votes were counted and came down losing by two votes. I wanted to replace our Precinct 1 Commissioner, because he’d been in that post for 16 years and many of his duties had been neglected. I felt it was time to replace him. His expertise as a politician was to my disadvantage and little that I knew that people were still fond of him. I learned my lesson and will leave politics to those that make a career of it and can stay in an elective position for many years.

Also I want to mention that I’m very grateful of my family especially my wife Josie for going all out of her way during my recovery in all my operations. Loretto, our son, always concerned about our needs, especially while I had been incapacitated. In every one of my operations, Emilia, our youngest daughter, went out of her way always to help us. She drives us to Midland or Odessa for our doctor’s visits. Olga, our oldest daughter, is always concerned and often visited me while I was convalescing in Midland. She always brought me some delicious food of all kinds. Other patients soon saw her kindness. For all their kindness, concerns and help I got from my wife and my children I am grateful. May God bless each and every one of you.

MANDO RECEIVES A HIGH SCHOOL DIPLOMA

Being that Loretto, my son is a Marfa School trustee, he has access to many laws and changes that always take place in the school activities. He found out from Mr. Gary Hamilton, the superintendent, that the State of Texas passed a law authorizing the school to hand out high school diplomas to all those veterans that went to serve our country before finishing high school. In order to qualify for this diploma the veteran must have been attending high school and must have been in good standing while leaving high school to join the military. After going through many past files and records they found my school record. Being that World War II was going on, I volunteered after finishing the Sophomore year and after the war was unable to return and finish High School. Of course an Honorable Discharge was required to be fully eligible to receive my diploma and that I had and gladly handed it to the school office of the superintendent.

Graduation Day (5-31-02) Olga, Queenie

Mando, Conchita and Ernesto Mendoza

The diploma was handed to me together with the graduating class of May 2002. After a short briefing of my past service in the Army by Mr. Gary Hamilton and much applause, together with my two daughters, I walked to the graduating stand and my son, handed the diploma to me. I cannot fully explain how proud I was with happiness and blessings I felt. Besides my diploma, I was surprised to receive a beautiful citation from our President and his beautiful wife, Mrs. Laura Bush.

Gabriel, Mando, Loretto & Conchita (5-31-02)

I want to mention on every one of my operations that I’ve gone through the concern of my relatives and so many friends wishing me a successful and quick recovery. All of them showing me so much gratitude with flower arrangements and all sorts of good and tasty sweets, etc. For all my relatives and dear friends I will forever hold them close to my heart.

OLGA’S LETTER TO HER LOVING FATHER

MILLIE’S LETTER TO HER BELOVED DAD

Millie at age 23 with Brian 7 mos.old

Millie in our kitchen (Nov., 2001)

ON AUGUST 26, 2003 MILLIE PASSED AWAY AND SHE IS DEEPLY MISSED

BY ALL HER FAMILY AND FRIENDS

GOD BLESS,

ARMANDO F. VASQUEZ

(MANDO)

A TRIBUTE TO OUR DADDY MANDO

THE UNSUNG HERO

Daddy, you’ll always be our hero for you have taught us how to appreciate life to the fullest.

You’re the native son of West Texas, blue skies and a rugged landscape.

You foster a pioneer spirit with a love for the simple things the land has to offer – peace, tranquility, the splendid sunsets, the fragrance of rain, the crisp fresh air as well as the untamed winds, the joy of seeing another sunrise and as evening descends, the glow of the moon over the horizon.

Your mind has never been idle but always inventing, learning and seeing how things tick.

You’ve never complained about your work but you’ve embraced it as a challenge going from project to project.

Your work has not always been easy but in those times of not knowing how to finish a job you asked God for the assistance that carried you through. You used your God-given talents to the fullest and God gave the increase to support a family.

If we could have one trait passed on to our children from you, it would be the love of reading and the quest for education.

Your dreams of a better tomorrow are affecting future generations in West Texas. You are making that investment of time and energy for people to benefit from medical care in the clinic that you want for Marfa. In the past you promoted the Marfa Lights to put Marfa on the map and later the rest area was built there to view those lights. You’ve also got dreams of a future nursing home for citizens there.

You’ve dared to dream big dreams and pursue them until they manifest where most of us only dream and never put feet to our dreams.

The music and harmony in your soul has enriched your life as well as those that hear those lively, toe-tapping notes coming from the violin, guitar or the keyboard.

Your legacy is a simple one of love of God, family and your heritage, Casa Piedra. Your love of Casa Piedra embraces a rich heritage of colorful ancestors that tamed the wilderness and birthed in you the love of the land and the work ethic that is the foundation for this great nation.

Few people master the art of living a purpose driven life but you have found that plan that God had for you before you were born. It involves touching other lives, not counting the cost – working towards a better tomorrow.

We are sure you will continue serving your community and your family making these dreams a reality. And as you go about your chores with that cheerful whistle you’re planning your next project until that glorious day that the Master will say, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.”