The Spitz Clock on the Plaza South Side

1966 - Time Flies

If you’re in downtown Santa Fe and you want to know what time it is, just check the Spitz Clock on the northwest corner of the Plaza. It’s a Santa Fe landmark but it wasn't on that corner in the beginning.

In 1881, that tall street clock was first installed in front of the Spitz jewelry Store on the south side of the Plaza by the original owner, Salomon Spitz, a German immigrant merchant. The original clock didn't tell the time; it had no works. But Mr. Spitz replaced it with a working clock around 1900.

In 1916, the clock was knocked down by one of Santa Fe's earliest motorists. The replacement clock, installed the same year, was maintained for years by his son Bernard who took over the jewelry store in 1927.

When he turned 70, Bernard Spitz closed the jewelry store on the Plaza and opened another in the Coronado Shopping Center. But what to do about that tall street clock in front of his old store? Well, in 1966, in a quiet ceremony, Bernard Spitz presented the Clock to the City of Santa Fe and handed Mayor Pat Hollis the winding key.

The clock disappeared while the south side of the plaza was undergoing renovation to add a portal but the clock was reinstalled on the corner of Palace and Lincoln – where it stands today – in 1974.

To keep perfect time, the clock was wound every week by a man who had to climb a ladder to get to the clockworks. In 1964, it was repaired and, in the process, the clockworks were conveniently re-located to the base of the clock. Today, the city parks worker who winds the clock every five days or so no longer needs the ladder.

1950 - Apocalypse City

Have I mentioned Jim Riley? In 1950, James K. Riley was the manager of Santa Fe's Chamber of Commerce, an association of businessmen, bankers and merchants created to promote commerce in the city. This was 1950 and the nation was considerably spooked over the shocking news that the godless communists in Russia had an atomic bomb, which they got incidentally, by stealing our atomic secrets in their sneaky godless communist way.

In the wake of this news, the federal government began to form the Civil Defense Administration which, among other things, was tasked with establishing a wartime national capital, a strategic city from which to operate the government in the event Washington was destroyed by an atomic bomb. In early 1950, a number of cities were being considered as potential wartime capitals, including Salt Lake City and Denver.

The question occurred to James K. Riley, why not Santa Fe as the nerve center for a federal government after a nuclear apocalypse? As manager of the Chamber of Commerce, Jim Riley was apparently convinced of a bright commercial future in the aftermath of an atomic war. So he promptly telegraphed the state's congressional delegation to recommend Santa Fe, the nation's oldest capital as a candidate for the nation's wartime capital, to the Federal Civil Defense Administration.

In his request, Riley shrewdly pointed out that the Sangre De Cristos, a solid granite mountain range, would provide security and shelter for the necessary underground bunkers, and, as an added bonus, it was all on land already owned by the government as a national forest.

Sadly, nothing was heard from Paul J. Larsen, Director of the National Civilian Defense Board, who was charged with selecting the emergency capital. But, later that year, Jim Riley got nice “thank you for your interest” note from Senator Dennis Chavez.

1947 - Fiesta

The Santa Fe Fiesta of 1947. People remember it now for the crowds. The tourists and visitors came early and came by the thousands. Every hotel and tourist court in Santa Fe was full. The Chamber of Commerce pitched in to find rooms for 32 people in private homes. They came to experience the gaudy, glorious event and the Fiesta of 1947 did not disappoint. Let's take it day by day.

FRIDAY

Zozobra went down in spectacular flaming death right on schedule in a program directed by Big Z's creator, Will Shuster. The paper reported that Old Man Gloom moaned and groaned, waving his arms and hands wildly, as the flames licked higher and higher. All witnessed by an estimated 10,000 people. Then the crowd surged back into town to observe the coronation of the Fiesta Queen by the Archbishop on the terrace of St. Francis cathedral.

The Fiesta Queen was Pauline Padilla, a 1941 graduate of Santa Fe High School, nominated by the Sociedad Folklorica, and the daughter of the late Reyes Padilla and Mrs. Clara Padilla. She was attended by princesses Elvira Trujillo, Adelina Ortiz and Grace Montoya. Queen Pauline's gown was fashioned of imported French white lace, embroidered with silver flowers of eggshell satin. Oh, and the princesses were given crowns to wear for some occasions, made of tin with semi-precious stones.

After the coronation the music and the dancing on the Plaza started and would continue for three more days. The music from the Plaza bandstand included, Los Charros de Nuevo Mexico, Pedro Rodriguez, Villeros Allegres with dancers Lupe and Lily Baca; the Montezuma Seminary Choir, Johnny Valdez with the La Fonda Orchestra, Jenny Wells, folksinger, the Kellogg Marimba Orchestra, and Michnovich trio of Los Alamos, one played string bass, one played accordion and one played the clarinet and saxophone. They played folk songs, cowboy songs and Spanish melodies.

SATURDAY MORNING

The Pet Parade returned in 1947. A water famine at Fiesta time in 1946, shortened Fiesta to two days and the Pet Parade had been canceled that year. So there a great many entries in the 1947 parade. Grand prize went to Donna Margaret Clauser for the girls and Jim Calvin for the boys. Donna rode in a carreta drawn by a big white dog, Jim in an old fashioned carriage drawn by a burro. Interestingly, Donna's brother Donald won a blue ribbon and so did Jim Calvin's sister, Jane. The Parade judges handed out dozens of blue, red and white ribbons.

SATURDAY

A Parade, called the Entrada in 1947, wound its way to the Plaza on Saturday afternoon, led by the Kansas City Saddle and Sirloin club. Representing a caravan of Santa Fe Traders, more than 100 Kansas City clubmen rode palomino parade horses and drove stagecoaches and Conestoga wagons. The club was followed by the Santa Fe Sheriff's posse and the Mounted Patrol and pretty much anyone in Santa Fe who had a horse.

Dancers, both Jacques Cartier's dance students and pueblo ceremonial dancers, performed in the afternoon on the band stand and in the Palace courtyard.

At the armory, site of the Gran Baile de los Conquistadores, 12 artificial palm trees, each 14 feet high, were placed around the walls of the armory to make it appear more tropical. For some reason, the Conquistadores Ball had a Cuban theme. The ball, as always, was in honor of the Queen so there was a large platform for her, decorated in New Mexico red and yellow colors, and a bandstand for the Bob Summers Orchestra.

Over 4000 feet of crepe paper, both for the Armory and for the Palomino Club, where the Baile de la Gente was also held that same night. The gente had the Freddie Valdez Orchestra playing Spanish music.

The Women's Club & Library Association held a chuck wagon dinner behind the library, an event chaired by Mrs. W. M. Maraman. Edith Moya sang to the booklovers, along with a barbershop quartet which included Dr. Reginald Fisher, head of the New Mexico Museum at the time.

SUNDAY

Sundays were always the quietest of the Fiesta days. It began with a pontifical procession, led by the Archbishop. Anybody could join in. The procession led back to the Cathedral for the High Mass.

Don Diego De Vargas for 1957 was Juan Alderete. On Sunday afternoon, he led his lieutenants Jim Gabaldon, Carl Thomson, Ignacio Moya and Pete Olivas, cavalry and infantrymen to the exact spot before the Old Palace where DeVargas reclaimed Santa Fe for Spain in 1692. Most of the men are members of the Guadalupe post of the Catholic War Veterans, by the way.

One Sunday Fiesta event is so often overlooked. It's called the Merienda, for the ladies, presented by the Sociedad Folklorica. In 1947, it was held on the patio of Sena Plaza and there the ladies gathered to enjoy chocolate and biscochitos while admiring the fashions of an earlier time. Models included Senora Cleofas Jaramillo, a founder of the Sociedad Folklorica, wearing her wedding dress (which, with some alteration, she wore to President McKinley's second inauguration).

Other Santa Fe royalty participated, like Conchita Ortiz y Pino, Beulah Baca Read, Anita Thomas, Amelia Romero and Reynalda Dinkel who modeled antique shawls, rebosos, mantillas and dresses.

Sunday night, Archbishop Byrne led the solemn candlelight procession through the Plaza and up to the Cross of the Martyrs where he spoke, calling for national unity and a return to religion as antidotes to atheistic communism.

MONDAY

The Hysterical Parade featured floats and stunts with caricatures of prominent individuals and pertinent economic and political issues, paraphrasing Henry Drypolcher of the Santa Fe Junior Chamber of Commerce (the Jaycees) who promised over 50 entries of lampooning and poking fun.

My favorite was the Arroyo Hondo Hamburger and Hackamore Club, tweaking the nose of the city's honored guests from Kansas City. The winner was the Public Service Company lampooning the scarcity of housing for veterans, displaying a dilapidated privy wired for electricity and selling for an outrageous $19,000. The Second place float depicted Los Alamos “mad scientists' scrambling around a laboratory wielding geiger counters. Third place went to a two-float combo both aimed at “straw man” Governor Mabry and the man who really ran state government in 1947, State Revenue Commissioner Victor Salazar.

When last act left the bandstand, around 5 pm, the booths and rides were dismantled and the garbage trucks appeared to carry away the litter and the trash Fiesta always leaves behind.

Fiesta Council President Ben Martinez said, “ Our 235th Fiesta observance should be the greatest Santa Fe has ever seen. Every effort has been made to arrange a program to please everyone and yet include all the pageant and lore for which the festival is so well known.”

The Council President didn't mention the crimes. Yes, city police reported one burglary at the Koffee Kup Kafe, one attempted burglary at Franklin's on the Plaza, the looting of two cars over Fiesta weekend and two thefts, one a ring on display under the Portal. One Albuquerque crime victim recovered a jacket stolen from his car. He came across a boy wearing it while strolling round the Plaza and took it back.

Que Viva La Fiesta 1947.

1961 - The Horsemen - Demon Game

Come the fall in Santa Fe and football fans look forward to the annual clash between the Santa Fe High School Demons and cross-town rivals, the St. Michael’s High School Horsemen. 1961 marked the 40^th clash since the rivalry began in 1924 (the math is off because the teams played each other twice in 1925, 1926 and 1927). In 1960, the Demons handed the Horsemen the worst defeat in half a century – 26 to nothing. For 1961, it was a grudge match.

Head Coach for the Demons was Lavon McDonald and he had a great team – Junie Apodaca and Charlie Bennett, the state's two highest scorers. The Demon defensive line was tough with Sammy Roybal and John Martinez anchoring. Horsemen coach Dick Shelley was relying on fullback John Trujillo, speedy wingback David Fernandez and tailback Mike Miller. The defensive line was tough and, for a change, heavier than the Demon's. Joe Fornelli, a 190 pound tackle, headed the Horsemen defensive wall.

Coach Shelley had witnessed how effective the Demon attack, based on a double wing formation, could be. So, for weeks, he drilled his team in a specialized defense. But all for nothing.

Demon superfan Jamie Koch attended the St. Mike's practice, took notes and reported the defense plans to Lavon McDonald. To his credit, McDonald refused the offer of secret information and called Shelley instead. Shelley was boiling but it was too late to do anything about it.

Gametime. The Demons were heavily favored but in the opening minutes, it looked like the Horsemen might pull off an upset. Horsemen running star Dave Fernandez took the ball deep into Demon territory and crossed the goal line but the TD was called back for an off sides violation. On the very next play, Horseman John Trujillo fumbled and Demon linebacker Tom Hartley quickly scooped up the ball and ran back 80 yards for a Demon touchdown. Then the fat lady began to sing.

It was a Demon dream and a Horseman nightmare after that. Demon quarterback Stan Quintana kept throwing perfect passes and receivers Charlie Bennett, Charlie Hughes and Tommy Maxwell kept catching them. Touchdown after touchdown for the Demons until they piled up 45 points.

The only St. Mike’s bright spot was a big kickoff return by John Trujillo – 85 yards for a touchdown, but the conversion attempt by David Fernandez failed. 6 measly points.

Final score Demons 45, Horsemen 6 – for you record keepers out there, that was the biggest margin of victory between the two teams in the entire history of Horseman-Demon football.

1970 - The Mayor versus The Hippies

Santa Fe city politics in 1970 took an interesting turn, much of it driven by the strong personal popularity of the city's Mayor George Gonzales. In 1970, Gonzales, gifted with a wide smile, a gorgeous radio voice and about a million relatives, was favored for a second term as Mayor.

The chief issue in the mayor's race turned out to be Mayor George Gonzales' brother in law, Johnny Vigil. Vigil, a longtime Santa Fe political wheeler and dealer, operated the infamous Pussy Cat Lounge, Santa Fe's only topless club on the main entry street to the Bellamah subdivision. And questions were raised as to how such a business could come to operate in a residential area.

The Mayor's race wasn't really close and Mayor Gonzales coasted to an easy victory, which he took as a mandate. Within weeks of his re-election, Gonzales fired and replaced the City Manager, the City Treasurer, the City Attorney, the head of the Model Cities program and the Police Chief. Throughout the rest of the year, even more heads rolled – all replaced by the Mayor's cronies.

When the Mayor wasn't hiring and firing, he was hounding hippies. To be sure, hippies were becoming a serious social problem. Our neighbors to the north, the village of Taos, appealed to state officials to help them cope with an invasion of hippies. The hippies were abusing the food stamp and welfare programs in the county and were rumored to be planning a rock music festival. Labeled “delinquent transients” by Taos officials, the hippies indulged in “strange activities, illegal narcotics kicks, violation of human decency, immoral sex behavior and flaunting of the rules of health and sanitation.”

Just as an interesting fact, the 1970 US census counted 3,314 hippies in NM, about 540 living in Santa Fe. Contemporary news articles do not explain how that category was defined.

If you wanted to find a hippie in Santa Fe, there were two good places to look. One was the Mt. Ararat Coffee House on Water Street, run by David Davies and Lisa Gilkyson. Music by the Family Lotus Band, lots of incense and occasional classes in Sufi. The other hippie hot spot was the Free Church Community Center on Old Santa Fe Trail, run by a catholic priest, named George Hurd. The Center offered food and shelter to transients, as many hippies were and so the Center attracted exactly the kind of people the Mayor did not want in the City. Using a variety city agencies, the Mayor targeted the Center for extinction.

In June, for example, the Mayor sent the fire inspector to the Center. Forewarned, the Center's lawyer staged a public refusal of entry so the Mayor went to court to force an inspection. Eventually, enough violations were discovered at the Center to inspire the landlord to end the Center's lease, despite petitions by local social welfare agencies to keep the Center open.

The Mayor counted the closing of the Center as a major success of his administration. The Mayor's zeal in this 1970 drive likely explains why there are no hippies in Santa Fe today.

1959 - The City Grows

Santa Fe was growing by leaps and bounds in 1959. A brand new airport, finished in 1958 at a cost of $884,000, gave the city jet service. The bridges at Camino Alire and DeFouri streets were finished. The Casa Solana subdivision – phase 1 – was completed with more to come. And the City was just raising the money to buy the old Bruns Hospital land to build De Vargas Jr High School, a public library and swimming pool.

Senator Dennis Chavez announced funding for major repairs to the Arroyo Mascaras, almost a $1 million to prevent erosion and to build dam checks. The plant was to proceed from Griffin, crossing near Star Lumber upstream to a point between Ft Marcy Park and Magers Field. And the State of New Mexico began clearing the land on the river side at College and Alameda for the new 50,000 square foot State Land Office Building across from the Desert Inn.

In 1959, the City of Santa Fe began negotiations to acquire property of the Public Service Company and the old U&I Cafe, both fronting on Water Street, to build a large parking garage at corner of Water and Don Gaspar. A second site, the old Nusbaum building on the east side of Washington Avenue, between Palace Avenue and Nusbaum Street, was also being examined for more parking near Plaza. That plan was simple. Buy the building, tear it down, and put up a parking lot.

The first annexation ever in City history occurred in 1959. Expanding from traditional 4 leagues (about 2 ½ miles from plaza in cardinal directions – the boundaries of the original Santa Fe Grant) all the way to Airport Y along Cerrillos Road, enclosing some 2,000 acres.

Who was responsible for all these changes? The City leaders in Santa Fe in 1959. Well, Leo Murphy was the mayor who headed up councilors Ray Arias, Andre Senutovitch, Willie Seligman, Ray Smith, Orlando Fernandez, P.A. Baca, Pat Hollis and George Bernstsen. This was the administration, incidentally, which doubled the parking meter fees in town from a nickel an hour to a dime an hour.

1960 – Building a City

Santa Fe experienced a building boom in 1960, as predicted by the city’s leading home builders, Allen Stamm. He was one of three area builders who were planning to build 1000 new homes in Santa Fe by 1961.

The City of Santa Fe counted the number of street intersections within the city limits. It was 750.  Bids were being taken for installing street signs, white on brown and mounted on poles, on all street intersections. For most streets in Santa Fe, this was a first. The absence of street signs in the city had long been the chief complaint of tourists and newcomers to Santa Fe. The City hoped that marking the streets would improve  mail, fire, police and utility services.

Hyde Park road, 16 miles of rough road from the city to the ski lift, received $225,000 in improvements. And surveyors began plotting the route of the proposed cross-town highway, to be called St. Francis Drive.

Mountain States Telephone Company built an addition to their building on corner of Shelby and Water. And construction started on the New Mexico Education Association Building, on South Capital.

St. Michael's College, after years of working out of old barracks left over from the Bruns Hospital days, announced an ambitious building project, including a new library and gymnasium at a price tag of $500,000.

The New Mexico State Police revealed plans for a completely new administration building, the site as yet unselected. They outgrew the old one – a beautiful Santa Fe pueblo style building on Cerrillos Road, next to the new Highway Department building.

The federal General Services Administration asked congressional approval to build a federal building and post office in Santa Fe adjoining the federal courthouse. the proposed building contract price was right around 3 million dollars.

It took 46 sticks of dynamite to destroy the last vestige of the old state penitentiary on Pen Road -  the old brick chimney. It was the only sign of the original penitentiary remaining after demolition had begun in 1960.  State prisoners had been in residence at the new penitentiary on Highway 14 since 1954.

To build anew, one must first destroy the old, it seemed.  And so it was with the Nusbaum Building on Washington Avenue. In the past, it had been the home of Jesse Nusbaum, photographer, archaeologist and builder. He was superintendent of the renovation of the Palace of the Governors (1909-1913).  Most famous as a photographer, Nusbaum began his career as a builder, a trade he learned from his father, a contractor and brickyard owner in Greeley, Colorado.

By 1960, the aging building had come into the ownership of the City of Santa Fe and the city fathers decided that the property could be better used as a parking lot. The Old Santa Fe Association leapt to the defense of the historic structure and debate was lively for a few months, but in the end, the City Council voted to raze the Nusbaum Building to the ground and build a parking lot.

1950 – The Case of the Glamorous Widow

In 1950, the daily paper regularly reported on the parade of drunks stumbling through Police Judge Joe Berardinelli's courtroom, faithfully naming each one and the fine each earned. Occasional thefts such as the time someone walked off with an expensive fur coat from Hinkel's, as reported by store manager, Dorothy Alexander. But the crime that captured the City's imagination at the beginning of 1950 was the murder trial of Jane Lopez.

A year earlier, the glamorous divorcee Jane Moskin Ortiz, 30, caught the eye of Edward A. “Gee Gee” Lopez, 27, handsome state police officer with a wife and two kids. At the time, Jane was a capitol employee, best known as the attractive secretary for Congressman John Miles. Gee Gee left his wife Dorothy and married Jane in January 1949. From the beginning, their relationship was tumultuous, marked by heavy drinking, profane language and loud arguments.

On the evening of July 22, 1949, the couple were hosting a small party at their home on Carleton Road. Around 10 p.m., an argument broke out between Jane and Gee Gee over some lost car keys. When Gee Gee picked up the phone to make a call, Jane grabbed it and threw it to the floor. Gee Gee began to pack a duffle bag to spend the night at the State Police barracks. Jane was calling him every name in the book. The guests left in a hurry. Last to leave was friend and neighbor, Thelma Baca, with Jane still cursing Gee Gee.

Perhaps 15 minutes later, Thelma – now at home – received a frantic telephone call from Jane, asking Thelma to come right over. Thelma arrived to find the apartment in disarray, Jane in hysterics and Gee Gee's dead body on the bedroom floor, a bullet through the heart. Twenty feet away, Gee Gee's service pistol, a .45 automatic with a pearl handle inset with turquoise, lay on the coffee table in the living room.

With Thelma present, Jane called Preston McGee's funeral home. Paul Walsh, the night attendant, answered Jane's call. She cursed Paul and demanded to speak to Preston McGee. Walsh, listening on the extension, heard Jane tell McGee, “Gee Gee was cleaning his gun and it went off. Will you please come out?”

Jane then called the police. Ivan Head, the on-duty dispatcher for the police, took the call from Jane. Head and Jane were well acquainted. She told Ivan that Gee Gee really did kill himself, referring to Gee Gee twice as an SOB. But she told the attending doctors, W.L. Hamilton and Fred Soldow, that Gee Gee was killed after “we had a fight.”

At a meeting with Loretta Berardinelli McIntyre, an employee of Preston McGee and a lifelong friend of Gee Gee's, Jane said, “He threatened me once too often and the gun went off.” Jane told Loretta that she was in the living room picking up glasses when she heard Gee Gee fall to the floor but heard no shot. “I still didn't think he was hurt,” she told Loretta, “I told him to get off the floor and stop acting like Dodo.” By Dodo she meant Dolores d'Amour, Gee Gee's sister with a reputation for melodrama.

Early the next morning, Jane Lopez, bride of three months, was booked on “suspicion of murder.” Within hours, lawyer A.L. Zinn, a former Supreme Court Justice with a prosperous practice in Santa Fe, appeared before the court to demand a bond to release Jane Jopez, threatening to file a habeas corpus petition. Judge David Carmody approved a $10,000 bond, paid for by Zinn's wife and some of Jane's fellow employees at the State Land Office. That day, Jane went into seclusion at the Little Tesuque home of her attorney.

Meanwhile, DA Bert Prince began quickly interviewing possible witnesses, including 5 year old Linda Ortiz, Jane's daughter by her first husband,long-time Santa Fe mailman Arthur Ortiz. Linda and her two younger brothers were asleep at home at the time of Gee Gee's death but Linda was awakened by the gunshot and came to the living room. All she remembered was her mother in hysterics and, later, Thelma Baca's arrival. Linda was put back to bed before police arrived.

Prince's questioning of the young girl was cut short by her father, Arthur Ortiz, with whom the courts had placed the children while Jane was in custody. He refused the DA any further interviews on the basis that his daughter had been through enough.

The other witness,Thelma Baca, proved elusive as well. Agreeing to give a written statement to the DA, Thelma balked when asked to sign it. Prince immediately arrested her as a material witness and she spent a night in jail until bonded out by family friend Bernabe Romero, popular barber at the DeVargas Hotel.

Thelma's husband, Sgt. Bernard Baca returned home on leave, but was intercepted by police detectives before his train arrived at Lamy where he expected to meet his wife. Although he knew nothing about the case, Sgt. Baca spent the day in police interrogation.

These tactics angered Zinn who threatened lawsuits against the DA and the police. Thereafter Thelma Baca made no further statements to the police or to anyone until the trial.

Zinn moved to disqualify Judge Carmody and maneuvered the trial to take place in Aztec, New Mexico with District Judge Luis Armijo presiding. 60 jurors were called to the courthouse on January 16, 1950 and told that the case involved the death penalty. By then, DA Bert Prince had been joined by Walter Kegel, an assistant attorney general, for the prosecution; A.L. Zinn called upon former Judge H.H. Kiker to assist in Jane's defense. Also in attendance was Santa Fe lawyer Harry Bigbee, hired by Gee Gee's family to help the District attorney prosecute Jane Lopez.

The case was front page news in the Santa Fe New Mexican both at the time of the killing and at the time of the trial. Newsmen faithfully reported Jane Lopez' wardrobe each day of trial (typically modest black or gray). Jane was regularly described as attractive, glamorous, slim and dark eyed and a beauty. The available newspaper photos are too degraded to confirm or refute the descriptions.

The state called more than two dozen witnesses, including Gee Gee's ex-wife, Dorothy. Mother of his two children, Dorothy testified that she and Gee Gee had effected a reconciliation just days before his death and that he was planning to return to her. The state suggested that this was Jane's motive for killing Gee Gee.

State Police Chief Archie White, the first police officer at the scene, testified that it would have been nearly impossible for Gee Gee to have shot himself in the heart with his own weapon. It would have required some hand contortion and would have left abrasions on the hand from the weapon's recoil Gee Gee's hands were unmarked. (Paraffin tests on both Gee Gee and Jane were inconclusive as they were performed more than five days after the shooting.)

Through more than two dozen witnesses, the prosecution painted a picture of a foul-mouthed and quarrelsome woman who had the means, motive and opportunity to kill her husband. The same evidence worked to discount any question of suicide or accidental shooting. After three days, the state rested its case.

On the fourth day, the day that Gee Gee Lopez would have turned 30, Zinn rose for the defense and called only one witness – Jane Lopez. The widow admitted foul language, drinking and quarreling but denied murder. “No, I did not kill him,” a sobbing Jane Lopez told the jury, “I never shot that gun or any gun in my entire life.”

Through tears, Jane described hearing Gee Gee fall in the bedroom, but no gunshot. When she saw his bloody body, she became hysterical and remembered no more. How the pistol got from the bedroom to the coffee table, how bloody T-shirts were found stuffed in a drawer, why she called three people before she called police – Jane could not answer except to say she didn't know.

The jury deliberated less than two hours, then filed back into the courtroom and declared their verdict – not guilty. Jane wept and laughed and embraced her attorneys; the Lopez family was grim, silent and quickly left the courthouse. Court observers claimed that the verdict was predictable. The state's attorneys put on an elaborate case, they said, proving everything except that Jane shot Gee Gee Lopez.

Outside the courthouse, Jane paused for a brief statement to reporters. She planned to leave Santa Fe and live in Washington, D.C. for a time, then move to South America and she hoped to take one or more of her children with her. She vowed never to return to Santa Fe.