As tradition demanded, the 1964 Santa Fe Fiesta opened with fire. Zozobra, a giant 40 foot puppet otherwise known as Old Man Gloom, went up in flames before a frenzied crowd, the biggest crowd ever according to the Kiwanis Club, which annually sets up the spectacle. Of course, that’s what the Kiwanis say every year.
Big Z was in good voice that night, groaning as the little glooms danced around him, the sorrowful voice provided by Gus Denninger who, by the way, was my dentist at the time. Jacques Cartier, extravagantly costumed in red and festooned with feathers, danced before the doomed effigy, fireworks were launched and it was, all in all, pretty damned glorious. Of course, that's what I say every year.
After the demise of Zozobra, the crowds streamed from Ft. Marcy Park down Washington Avenue towards the Plaza for the Queen’s coronation and dancing on the Plaza to the music of the Mariachi Chapala and Santa Fe's own Genoveva Chavez.
In those days, the Queen of the Fiesta was chosen by the Fiesta Council early in the year at the Cinco de Mayo baile. In 1964, Yolanda Pacheco won the crown and was queen all summer. Yolanda was the daughter of Andy Pacheco, by the way, the owner of a popular liquor store on Hickox Street. Don Diego de Vargas for the year was Lauriano Apolonio Moya but everybody knew him better as Larry Moya.
The Conquistadores Ball to honor the newly crowned queen took place at La Fonda and featured Don Lesman and his band. The Conquistadores Ball was always produced by El Club Real --The Royal Club -- with membership made up exclusively of past Fiesta royalty – all former Queens and princesses.
The annual Fiesta melodrama for 1964, as usual, ridiculed, mocked and lampooned local politicians and celebrities. In between the acts, oleos or short musical or comedy acts invited audience participation. That year's "mellerdrammer" (as the New Mexican dubbed it), titled “Infamy at Fort Marcy; or the Secret Locked in the Bosom of the Editor or How to Stop Laughing and Learn to Live with New Mexico Politics” poked fun at the opera, the ski run, turistas and the big anti-pornography drive of 1964.
Incidentally, that drive was organized by Christian Brother Godfrey Reggio, who was then a popular civics teacher at St. Michael’s High School, not yet an internationally known filmmaker. (See, in this regard, the award-winning Koyannisqatsi, released in 1982, a stunningly visual film of technology gone berserk.) In 1964, I was one of dozens of St. Michael's High School students recruited to trudge door to door in Casa Alegre handing out leaflets against smut. Yes, it ruined a perfectly good Saturday for me, but it got Playboy off the shelf at Zook’s Pharmacy.
The Melodrama featured players Jimmy McEachron, Pat Bean, Bruce Vaughn, Betty Armstrong, and Bob and Pat Conoway -- all veterans of the Community Theatre.
The Children’s Parade on Saturday morning was reportedly delightful. First prize went to Mrs. Carla Lopez’ nieces costumed as the three pigs, each piggy winning a prize of $1.50. The Cub Scouts of Den 4 won a prize portraying a band of Indians. A crowd favorite was an entry entitled “Desegregated.” It consisted of little Adrian Fry’s black and white rabbit. It was a reminder of the racial unrest in the nation at the time, in a cute furry sort of way,
Other big winners included "Hawaii," consisting of the entire Chuck Wilkerson clan in leis and grass skirts; the "Circus" entry – a decorated wagon pulled by Martina Guest; John and Frank Wheeler as two barefoot Indians and Joe Baca and his twin burros. All in all, there were 26 winners and all participants got a free ice cream cone served on the lawn of City Hall.
The Historical/Hysterical Parade on Monday was spectacular and, as it turned out, quite controversial. The grand prize winner was the 20-30 Club Float featuring the Fiesta Queen, Yolanda Pacheco. The top musical prize went to the Santa Fe High School Band; Pojoaque’s band came in second. The Children’s category prize was won by Den 4 Cub Scouts, best Spanish entry was the Lily Baca Dance Studio, the Best Indian entry was won by the VFW and the Sociedad Folklorica won the Grand Historical prize for a float demonstrating adobe making.
As usual, there were political floats, 1964 being an election year. There was one on Johnson’s War on Poverty, another on Governor Campbell’s attempts to build a road to Farmington, a float on Goldwater with a big sign that said, “Help Stamp Out Peace - Vote for Goldwater,” and the most crowd-pleasing political float simply displayed a banner that said, “Hell with it, don’t vote for anybody.”
In the most comical category, the winning float was by the St. Michael's High School Alumni Association, titled “Viva el Beatle.” It depicted an actual local rock group, the Sprints, wearing Beatle wigs and gigantic sombreros, wiggling like the Fab Four. Right behind was a red convertible with Candy Johnson twisting to the sounds of the fake Beatles. If you don’t know who Candy Johnson is, you’re not alone. She was not a major star, just a featured dancer in the Frankie and Annette movie, “Bikini Beach.” She was in Santa Fe that week to promote the movie then showing at the Lensic Theater.
The float which caused the most comment and controversy was one which depicted a robed figure wearing a gold bishop’s hat and holding a golf club in one hand and a Zozobra figure in the other, with a sign around his neck, saying “I Burn for Ben.” While, I'm certain the turistas were puzzled by it all, Santa Feans knew exactly what the float meant to say. The robed figure was clearly intended to portray the Archbishop of Santa Fe and the reference to "Ben" could only be Ben Martinez.
At the time, the float drew guffaws from the irreverent and shocked gasps from the faithful. No Fiesta float in Santa Fe history had ever dared to mock the Catholic Church or the Archbishop of Santa Fe. The Santa Fe City Council, at the next meeting, went on record to condemn the float as disgraceful and vulgar and vowed to do something about it. But the City of Santa Fe had no say in the matter; it fell within the exclusive jurisdiction of the Santa Fe Fiesta Council. And thereby hangs a tale.
You see, James Peter Davis, fresh from Archbishop duty in Puerto Rico was appointed ninth Archbishop of Santa Fe in February 1964 and the next day, James Peter Davis, the new Archbishop of Santa Fe, permanently moved his residence to Albuquerque. Santa Feans were shocked and offended. After all, they believed, Santa Fe had been the seat of the holy see since the Conquistadors. Actually, it was only since 1875 when then Bishop Lamy became the first Archbishop of Santa Fe but that’s not important. To add insult to injury, the Archbishop then joined the Albuquerque Country Club. Yes, Santa Fe’s panties were in a bunch on this one.
The Fiesta Council, formed in the 1920's, always included a representative of the Catholic Church, appointed by the Archbishop. In early 1964, that representative was Father Pax Shicker but Father Pax had been re-assigned elsewhere and the Church's Council seat became vacant. New Archbishop Davis appointed Monsignor Rodriguez to replace Shicker on the Fiesta Council but there was resistance to seating Rodriguez, resistance rumored to have been incited by Ben Martinez.
Ben Martinez (sometimes A.B. Martinez) was a former State Police captain and Chief of the Santa Fe Police Department. Almost every major criminal case in the city involved the Chief -- the 1945 Eloise Kennedy sex slaying by a rogue prison inmate, the 1949 Edith Moya stabbing, the 1952 prison riot -- all featured the Chief who was particularly adept at extracting confessions from recalcitrant malfeasants. Martinez was active in the life of the community -- Boys Club, Big Brothers, Knights of Columbus -- but his greatest love, by far, was reserved for the Santa Fe Fiesta. Each year, he helped produced the fiesta, acted as master of ceremonies at various Fiesta events and he always appeared in the Fiesta Parade in costume, waving to the crowds from a colorful two-wheeled carreta. Martinez had been head of the Fiesta Council for about a hundred years or so it seemed. And it was said he ruled with an iron hand.
Like many Santa Feans, Ben had been vocal about the Archbishop's abandonment of Santa Fe for the greens and fairways of Albuquerque. Some say, he saw an opportunity to embarrass the Archbishop by holding the Church's seat on the council hostage by delaying and postponing the vote on the replacement representative.
Timing is everything and Ben Martinez chose the wrong time to stage his sullen protest. The fateful meeting began when Ben Martinez' iron hand was caught in the cookie jar. To everyone's surprise, the Council's Treasurer stood up and complained loudly and, in front of the entire council, that she was required by Council President Ben Martinez to sign blank checks on the Council account. But a look at the canceled checks revealed that more than a few were made out to Mrs. Ben Martinez.
Apparently, that revelation triggered a nasty shouting match among Council members but business came first and the Council took up the matter of the Archbishop's appointment. There was some debate on the motion to seat Monsignor Rodriguez and some comment on the Archbishop's flight to Albuquerque but, eventually the Council honored the Archbishop’s choice and Rodriguez was seated.
Next came a motion to take the books away from President Ben Martinez for an independent audit. The debate was not pretty. Ben defended the blank checks because, sometimes, direct action was required and circumstances couldn't wait for the niceties. (This was, by the way, the same method behind his spectacular success in gaining confessions from criminals.) In the end, Ben maintained, all the money could be honestly accounted for.
The Ben Martinez loyalists stood by him but other Council members were stony faced. They recalled that Mrs. A. B. Martinez, at Ben's demand two years earlier, had been appointed the Council's secretary -- the only paid employee of the Council in its forty year history.
The vote was evenly split between Ben's party and his opponents and, interestingly, it fell to Monsignor Rodriguez to cast the deciding vote. The Monsignor voted against Ben. A.B. Martinez was forced to give up the books. Martinez stood up, red-faced, and walked out of the Council Meeting. The next day, Martinez resigned the presidency and for the rest of 1964, the Fiesta Council operated under acting president Joe Clark.
By the way, the Archbishop never left Santa Fe, at least not technically. By decree, the liturgical center and "cathedra" or chair of the Archbishop of the Archdiocese of Santa Fe to this day remain in Santa Fe. Only the administrative offices of the Archdiocese of Santa Fe were relocated to Albuquerque by Archbishop Davis in 1964. The administration of the Archdiocese of Santa Fe is now conducted from offices located at the Catholic Center on the West Mesa in Albuquerque.
There were no winners in the end. Santa Fe lost an Archbishop, the Archbishop lost the respect of the City and Ben Martinez lost the only position he ever really wanted. Let me amend that statement. There was one Fiesta winner in 1964. That’s the guy who managed to get into the safe at the Palace Restaurant during the Fiesta weekend and make a clean getaway with several bottles of whiskey and about $4,000 in cash.
Que Vive la Fiesta!
