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.

1958 - The Battle of Hart’s Drive In

I think this is the way the story goes. But don't hold me too much to the details. I'm an old man and my memory is going.

Anyway, it all began in 1948. Santa Fe was on the verge of a great building boom in that year. The Sears Roebuck Company announced plans to bring a store to Lincoln Avenue, just off the Plaza. Parker’s Roller Rink opened up close to the American Legion Hut. St. Vincent Hospital was about to start fund-raising for a new hospital to be built just up the street from the old one. And Hart’s Malt Shop debuted at 1370 Cerrillos Road, very close to Monterey Street, the entrance to Casa Linda, the new Stamm subdivision built around Kaune School.

The arrival of Hart's Malt Shop was big news to the kids in Santa Fe since the only other teen hangout at the time was Lee’s Snack Shack at 447 Cerrillos Road, the next block south of Santa Fe Motor Company. Though both offered the usual diner menu -- sandwiches, ice cream, chili and barbecue, Lee's offered his famous Jumbo Hamburgers whereas Hart's specialized in malts, floats, sundaes and banana splits. Lee’s motto, by the way, was “Take Home a Snack from the Snack Shack and You’ll Always be Back.” Hart's didn't have a motto.

In 1954, Everett Hart (who lived in the house behind the malt shop) gave up the space and the restaurant to businessman Leonard R. Bertram. Bertram noticed that more young Santa Feans were cruising Cerrillos road in hot rods and jalopies. So he converted the malt shop to a drive-in where cars were welcome. He called it Bert's Drive-In. Like Mr. Hart, Leonard Bertram and his wife Emma lived in the house behind the drive-in.

Bert's Drive-In proved to be profitable and soon the Bertrams moved into a house nearby on Monterey Street. Bert's was joined by two other Bertram operated drive-ins, Burger Bowl No. 1 at 236 Rosario Street and Burger Bowl No. 2 at 2007 Cerrillos Road. In late 1957, Bertram closed up Bert's Drive-In and began to operate only the two Burger Bowl drive-ins.

That's when Wyatt Hart, better known as Clyde Hart and (I suspect) a relative of the original Malt Shop founder, Everett Hart, moved into the house behind the drive-in and re-opened the drive-in under the name Hart's Drive-In. Unlike 1948, when the old Malt Shop was almost the only place in town for teens to patronize, 1958 offered considerably more competition.

Lee’s Snack Shack had long since disappeared. But Bert's had two Burger Bowl locations, there was Chuck's Drive-In at the Pen Road Shopping Center (changing its name that year to the Neet Teen Drive In), Country Boy Clem's Drive-in at 1311 Cerrillos Road, Blake's LotaBurger Drive Inn at 1915 Cerrillos Road, Ricky's Drive-In at 1713 Second Street and Ingram's Drive In at 1734 Cerrillos Road, serving the most exotic fare of all -- pizzaburgers and chocolate Cokes. But Hart's Drive-In was still struggling to get its fair share of the cokes and fries customers when trouble began.

A group of neighboring residents – mostly from the Kaune addition -- got up a petition against Hart's signed by over 230 people. The irate neighbors presented the petition directly to the City Council and demanded action. The petition asked the City to "abate a public nuisance" and alleged that certain lots in the 1300 block on Cerrillos Road were "being used continually as a hang-out or meeting place for persons unknown who constantly create disturbances at all hours of the night by quarreling, fighting, drinking intoxicants, engaging in drunken brawls, throwing beer cans and other refuse items on the property of the undersigned, racing unmuffled automobiles, engaging in sex practices, and generally conducting themselves in a manner prejudicial to the health, safety, comfort, property, sense of decency and morals of the children who live in the area."

Clyde Hart, the owner of Hart’s Drive-In, declared that he ran a clean and quiet operation. He claimed that the real reason he was being targeted was because of professional jealousy. And he pointed his finger straight at Leonard Bertram.

It turned out that one of the irritated residents who signed the neighborhood petition was one L. R. Bertram, owner of his own string of Burger Bowl drive-ins. Interestingly, until 1957, Bertram had operated Bert's Drive In at the same spot -- even living in the same house behind the restaurant. But, in 1958 he lived on Monterey Street around the corner from Hart's Drive In.

But Mr. Bertram denied any accusation of professional jealousy, saying he didn't consider Hart's to be competition for his drive-ins which were "an entirely different type operation." In his letter of response to the City Council, Bertram said he understood what it was like to operate a drive-in restaurant at that spot. He himself had done it for several years. And he wasn't against the teenagers, most of which were just good, wholesome kids. At days end, Bertram said, he was just one of many in the residential neighborhood who were fed up with the noise and fights at Hart’s Drive In.

The City Council assigned the citizen's petition to the police committee for action. A few weeks later, the committee set forth new "obligations"applicable to all drive-ins within the city." From then on, owners of drive-in properties had to "police" their own premises, call the city police promptly if there was trouble and keep the premises clean. Finally, all drive-ins were barred from playing juke boxes over loud speakers.

And that's what ended the war between Hart's and Bert's.

These days, the building at the center of the battle -- 1370 Cerrillos Road -- is occupied by a florist shop run by a very nice couple named DeVargas. Hart's Drive-in (operated in its last days by old man Everett Hart again) closed around 1967. Ingram's, Neet Teen, Ricky's . .. they're all gone. Bert's Burger Bowl No. 2 is now a parking lot for a vacant Blockbuster store. But Bert's Burger Bowl No. 1 -- now under the stewardship of Fred De Castro -- is still going strong on Rosario Street, advertising itself as the “last of the original drive-ins.”

The only other thing I remember about those days was that Leonard Bertram claimed to be the first to introduce the chili cheeseburger to Santa Fe. No one believed it then, either.

1968 – The Lost Time Capsule

Mr. Paul Hudson, Director

International Time Capsule Society

Oglethorpe University

4484 Peachtree Road NE, Atlanta, GA 30319

Dear Mr. Hudson:

I write to apply for membership in the International Time Capsule Society. I am new to the study of time capsules, but since I heard about the International Time Capsule Society and its dedication to the study of the history of time capsules, I've made it a point to learn more about time capsules.

For example, there's a mention of one in the Epic of Gilgamesh which, I understand, was a best seller among ancient Mesopotamians some 4,000 years ago. I hope to read it someday.

I also learned that during the 1939 World’s Fair, Westinghouse buried a time capsule to be opened 5,000 years in the future. Sealed in a 90' corrosion resistant "cupalloy" metal rocket-shaped cylinder were common everyday artifacts, a newsreel, and microfilm versions of the encyclopedia, a dictionary and the entire 1939 Sears & Roebuck mail-order catalog. That should impress the humans of the year 6939, assuming they haven't already evolved beyond human form to become glowing balls of mental energy.

And I learned that on July 4, 1976, President Gerald Ford was set to seal a bicentennial time capsule in a formal ceremony at Valley Forge, PA when someone stole it out of an unattended van and walked away with it. That's just plain embarrassing.

I know all about the most ambitious time capsule of them all, the Crypt of Civilization, located at Oglethorpe U by Thomas Jacobs, considered the modern father of the time capsule. The Crypt, sealed in 1940, contains a swimming pool sized collection of artifacts, literature and even a set of Lincoln Logs to be opened in 8113. I only wish I could be there to see that.

Since discovering the International Time Capsule Society and its distinguished founders, all prestigious authors of books and magazine articles about time capsules, I want to learn even more about time capsules. If it is at all possible, I want to be a member of the International Time Capsule Society in the missing time capsules department.

I know that the Society keeps a registry of known time capsules and, in 1991, issued a list of the ten most wanted time capsules -- capsules famous for being lost. And through those efforts, the Washington State Territorial Centennial Time Capsule was found in 2002 after being lost since 1953 when the Legislature paid for the burial of the time capsule but failed to fund the marker.

The missing time capsules department is where I think I can be useful because I know of a missing time capsule in my own home town -- the City of Santa Fe. And I hope that, after you hear this story, you will consider adding the 1867 Santa Fe Time Capsule to your ten most wanted list.

It seems that sometime in October 1867, the City of Santa Fe in cooperation with the local Masonic lodge buried a time capsule somewhere under the plaza. The newspapers of the time reported that the capsule contained coins, seals and copies of local newspapers, the territorial laws, and a copy of the United States Constitution. The time capsule was to be opened a hundred years in the future.

But, through some oversight, the 100^th anniversary year – 1967 - went by without anyone noticing. It wasn’t until a year later in 1968 that the Old Santa Fe Association asked for permission to look for the time capsule. With the City’s blessing, the Association hired some scientists from Los Alamos to use state of the art technology to detect the capsule’s location. The scientists set up their gizmos on the plaza and prepared to subject it to magnetic waves, gamma rays, X-rays and other rays they apparently had laying about.

But the scientists already had a good clue exactly where to look. Centuries ago, the Masons developed an elaborate ceremony for the installation of corner stones and a precise protocol for burying their time capsules. The Masons invariably buried their time capsules in the northeast corner of a monument. Since the local Masonic Lodge had collaborated with the city in the sealing of the time capsule, the scientists began their search at the Soldier’s Monument in the center of the Plaza. Their instruments quickly detected a cavity exactly under the northeast corner. But the instruments could not tell what was in it.

The City Council permitted a crew, under the direction of noted architect John Gaw Meem, to excavate in that area. After several days of digging, nothing turned up and Meem prepared to close up the dig and report failure.

But one City Councilor decided to continue the project on his own. In broad daylight, Councilor Lee Rubinstein and his excavation crew (which consisted of two guys from his neighborhood) began shoveling away under the northeast corner of the monument on the Plaza. Apparently, the digging went on quite a while before someone from the City noticed and put a stop to it. While Rubenstein had produced an impressive hole in the Plaza, he had unearthed no time capsule.

Rubenstein told the papers that he thought he was just doing his duty as a councilman by finishing the job left undone by John Gaw Meem. This explanation did not sit well with the public or with his fellow city council members. At a hastily called meeting, an angry City Council learned from the city’s engineers that Rubenstein’s unauthorized excavation posed an imminent danger to the stability of the Soldier’s monument. The prospect of the beloved obelisk toppling over after more than 100 years on the job electrified the Council, which promptly ordered the immediate repair of the monument with a crew directed by John Gaw Meem, all at Rubenstein’s expense. Councilman Rubenstein groused but agreed. A day later, the monument on the Plaza was intact and upright, firmly planted in cement.

In all the excitement over Rubenstein's shenanigans, the time capsule was forgotten and the mystery of the 1867 Santa Fe Time Capsule has never been solved.

Perhaps, if my application for membership in the International Time Capsule Society is favorably considered, I might be invited to the next regular meeting to address the members on this historical curiosity.

I await your decision and until then, I intend to put to good use your valuable "Eight Tips for Organizing a Time Capsule" on my own time capsule project. I'm starting just as soon as I can find some cupalloy.

Hoping to Join You Soon!

1956 - Students in the News

 

Three St. Michael’s High School students were selected as delegates to New Mexico Boys State for 1956. They were Robert Brown, son of Mr. And Mrs. John M. Brown, 413 Salona; Richard Rodriguez, son of Mr. And Mrs. Alex Rodriguez, 927 Roybal; and Louis Bransford, son of Mr. And Mrs. E.W. Bransford of 525 Hillside. Santa Fe High was represented by Buddy Holmes, Bill Van Buskirk, Phillip Santistevan, Richard Contreras and Roy Beacham. Girl’s State delegates from Santa Fe High were Julienne Loomis, Chere Torres, Donna Kinnard, Librada Rodriguez and Peggy Pick.

The Santa Fe New Mexican interviewed high school seniors from St. Michael’s High School and Santa Fe High on their hopes and plans for the future. From St. Michael’s, senior Michael Cunningham, 17, planned to study electrical engineering and move to the east to work. Donald Gonzales, also 17, wanted to study to be a dentist. Eddie Lopez, 17, said he was sure about college but didn’t know what he would take and he was hoping a basketball scholarship would help out. Fernando Gonzales was set on being an engineer of the civil variety. And Dennis Garcia had his eye on a chemical engineering degree and he had the grades for it.

At Santa Fe High, senior Wylie Lucero planned to be a commercial artist, Lucy Rivera was interested in medicine and planned to be a medical technologist. Jimmy Sikes was interested in engineering and had applied at the Air Force Academy. Cornelia Lowndes wanted to be a high school teacher and was looking for a scholarship. Mary Florence Connery wanted to be a nurse and she was already been accepted at the Church Home and Hospital in Baltimore. Fred Maes wanted to major in physics at the School of Mines in Socorro. And Susan Maguire planned to go to UNM and study to become a grade school teacher.

The drama “Jacob Comes Home” was presented by the Santa Fe High School drama players, featuring Archie West, Corrine Mora, Patti Pick, Tommy Trujillo, Mary Jo Seiber and Gaylord Smith. As an added attraction, a one-act play was shown as well, called ‘Minor Miracle,’ starring Jackson Dennis, Charles Boatright, Richard Henderson and Ray Reynolds.

The St. Michael’s High School Honor Roll was announced. There were literally dozens of names listed among the honored scholars, including elementary school students since, in those days, St. Michael’s had classes from the fifth grade to the twelfth grade.

Space permits mention of only a few from each class. Seniors: Ben Castle, Dennis Garcia, Don Gonzales, Mike Durkovich, Carlos Serna, Andy Quintana and Herman Vigil. Juniors: Robert Brown, Hermilio Naranjo, Louis Bransford, Joe Miller, Ted Montoya, Tom Ortiz, Anthony Serna, Andrew Tafoya and Joe Matta. Sophomores: Richard Apodaca, Tony Blea, David Brito, Pat Lujan, Don Mackel, James Sacoman and Don Sandoval.

Pojoaque High School planned its annual Valentine’s Day Dance but had yet to choose a queen at press time. Among the candidates were Mary Valdez, a freshman, Sally Roybal, a sophomore, Stella Lopez, a senior and Diolinda Roybal, a junior. The new Queen would accept the crown from the outgoing Queen, Patsy Jiron.

St Michael’s High School announced the results of the election for Student Council to take office in the upcoming school year. Ted Montoya won the President’s office, defeating John Sena and Hermilio Naranjo. Ben Castle, the outgoing Student Council President handed over the gavel to new President Ted Montoya in a formal ceremony.

Loretta Armijo won the crown as Queen of the B.F. Young Junior High School Winter Formal of 1956. The favorite of the students, Queen Loretta was attended by Patsy Apodaca, Carol Sue Lewis and Lena Belle Valencia. Trainbearers were Belinda Apodaca and Patty Armijo. Loretta was crowned by Filbert Baca, ninth grade Class President in a ceremony at intermission at the ball.

St. Michael’s High School held a Valentine’s Day Dance with the entire program dedicated as a valentine to Loretto Academy. The lucky boys of St. Mike’s had six Loretto seniors to choose from for the honor of Queen of the Valentine’s Day Dance: Angie Ortiz, Imelda Delgado, Marcia Baca, Theresa Montoya, Helen Montoya and Amelia Romero. When the votes were counted, the most popular was Imelda Delgado. The pretty senior was surrounded by her court – a representative from each class: Pat Vigil, a freshman, Adrienne Arias, a sophomore, Corinne Jacques, a junior and senior Theresa Montoya.

The St. Michael’s High School graduation in 1956 was a solemn affair and the largest, too. Sixty-eight graduates, the largest senior class in the ninety-seven year history of the school. Singled out for honors were Dennis Garcia and Ben Castle. Ben Castle earned the highest scholastic average over four years and was named the class valedictorian. Dennis Garcia was a close second and delivered the salutatory speech. Ben was headed to the Catholic University of America on a full scholarship and Dennis won a scholarship to the New Mexico Institute of Mining and Technology in Socorro.

Santa Fe High School announced 237 graduates in 1956, the largest graduating class in its history. Valedictorian Nancy Mann and Salutatorian John Dendahl gave the principal addresses and Dr. Gayle Renfro, President of the New Mexico State Board of Education, handed out the diplomas.

Loretto honored 47 graduates for 1956. Mary Josephine Brady ranked first in the class and gave the valedictory. She also won a full scholarship to Webster College in St. Louis. Marcia Baca was salutatorian and winner of a scholarship to Loretto Heights College in Denver. Rosalie Baca, who came in third in scholastic standings, won a scholarship to St. Joseph’s College in St. Louis. Three other girls won, through competitive examination, scholarships to other schools – Judy Knight, Anna Marie Sandoval and Angie Ortiz.

The engagement of Miss Amelia Elizabeth Romero to Mr. James Hollis was announced after midnight mass early Christmas Day at the home of her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Romero, 316 Houghton. James was the son of Mr. and Mrs. Pat Hollis, 183 Hopi Road. Miss Romero was a member of the 1956 graduating class of Loretto Academy and Mr. Hollis was attending the University of New Mexico. Attending the announcement party were classmates of the bride: Angie Ortiz, Dorothy Vigil, Imelda Delgado and Teresa Montoya -- and classmates of the groom: Larry Delgado, Joe Ortiz, Fernie Gonzales, Alfonso Vigil and Manuel Martinez. A June wedding was planned.

1952 – The Great Fiesta Revolt

 

The Santa Fe Fiesta is more than colorful religious processions, the burning of 40-foot effigies, pet parades, Fiesta Queens, mariachi music and chicharron burritos.There is actual blood and guts history to lend authenticity to the proceedings, almost 400 years of history.

In a way, Fiesta is required for the citizens of Santa Fe. In 1712, then-governor of the Kingdom of New Mexico Paez Hurtado issued a Proclamation requiring an annual re-enactment of DeVargas’ peaceful entry into Santa Fe in 1692, twelve years after the Spanish were driven out by an Indian revolt. So every year since 1712, dutiful Santa Feans obey the Proclamation, even though the Spanish Governors have long since gone.

In the 1920's, Fiesta became more than just a re-enactment of the "bloodless conquest," but a celebration incorporating solemn religious ceremonies and considerably less solemn secular activities. Zozobra, parades and Fiesta Queens became annual events. In the early days, the Fiesta was a loose cooperative effort between the City of Santa Fe, the Catholic Church, the Museum of New Mexico and leading businessmen. In 1927, the Santa Fe Fiesta Council was formally incorporated with stockholders consisting of members representing city government, local businesses, museums, the church and various social organizations.

The Santa Fe Fiesta Council quickly grew into a powerful player in Santa Fe life and holding an office on the Council carried with it considerable prestige. Over the next twenty-five years, a surprisingly small group of powerful men and women routinely planned all Fiesta activities and, by and large, Santa Feans seemed comfortable with the results. There had always been some complaint about the creeping commercialization of Fiesta, but the 1951 Fiesta may have pushed the envelope too far.

The 1951 Fiesta was a "shabby commercial carnival." So pronounced Pulitzer Prize winning writer and longtime Santa Fean Oliver La Farge who, judging from his regular appearance in the papers, had a large number of opinions on a great many things. And his opinion was that the 1951 Fiesta was a shabby commercial carnival and something ought to be done about it.

He was joined in this opinion by by artist Will Shuster, the man who invented Zozobra. LaFarge and Shuster believed the Fiesta Council to be under the influence of the concessionaires, the very concessionaires who had turned Fiesta into what La Farge called a hot dog and popcorn affair, paying hefty fees for the license to do so. The two set out to challenge the establishment and recruited lawyer Tom Catron to help them.

The strategy of the rebels was simple and straight from the Council’s own book - the 1927 Council by-laws - which included a provision for a stockholder’s meeting to elect new members of the Council. As it happened, Will Shuster was a Fiesta Council member in 1952 so he stood up and called for an election meeting as the by-laws permitted. The Council swiftly denied Shuster’s motion because, they said, those stockholders meetings had been amended out of the by-laws years ago. As a matter of long-standing practice, the Council members simply filled a vacancy by a vote among themselves.

Shuster was surprised by the mention of amendments to the by-laws because he had never seen any so he asked for them to be promptly produced. But the Fiesta Council parliamentarian couldn’t immediately find them and the the meeting ended with a promise to locate the missing amendments. A day later, however, the State Corporation Commission confirmed that no amendments to the 1927 by-laws had ever been filed. It didn’t count that the Fiesta Council really and truly thought they had filed them.

This was exceedingly good news for the insurgents, and their lawyer Tom Catron, who immediately grasped that, under the current by-laws without any phantom amendments, several previous Council elections had been illegally conducted. It followed that those purporting to hold office based on those elections were acting without any authority. And that was exactly Shuster’s challenge at the next meeting, when he called for the "illegal" officers to step down and for immediate elections of new officers.

While pondering this surprising turn of events, the Council received another written demand for an election by Oliver LaFarge, acting as spokesman for 35 prominent Santa Fe businessmen who represented the elite of Santa Fe’s business world -- La Fonda, The First National Bank of Santa Fe, Public Service Company of New Mexico, Sanco Ford and Santa Fe Motors, Dendahls, Clossons, Zook’s Pharmacy and many others. LaFarge reminded the Council that these businessmen constituted a formidable number of the Council membership and that these same businessmen had always carried most of the financial load of producing the annual Fiesta but were now hesitant because they felt excluded from the planning process.

This was stunning news to the Fiesta Council of 1952, consisting of President John Valdez, Jr., and council members A.B. Martinez, Helene H. Baca, Marie Sena, J.V. Lanigan, George March, Pat Vigil, Irwin Goodman, Delfina Salazar and Dick Bokum – all of whom were accustomed to wielding power, not yielding it. Bowing to the pressure, however, the Fiesta Council approved a stockholders meeting for late February 1952, time enough for several lively letters to the editor and a few op-ed pieces in the local newspaper.

The February meeting was a disaster. The businessmen’s group, calling itself the Members’ Committee, spoke through lawyer Tom Catron. The businessmen joined Council Member Shuster in challenging the legal authority of the present Council based on eight void past elections. Catron apparently spoke at great length, claiming that several members of the present Council were holding office illegally and that, under the by-laws, there were actually eight vacancies because the elections were invalid under the un-amended by-laws and so forth and so on. But the longer Catron talked, the shorter grew the temper of Council President John Valdez who abruptly adjourned the meeting. The Fiesta Council officers put on their coats and walked out, leaving Catron and the Members Committee in "stunned disbelief." Really. That’s how the New Mexican described it in reporting the story.

A new meeting was set up but this time the Council had devised a new tactic. As a result of a secret meeting, the Council quickly granted membership and voting rights to the concessionaires -- the same villains who had bought rights to set up hot dog and popcorn booths and kiddie rides on the plaza. With the added numbers, the Council was obviously attempting to pack the voting membership with allies. Despite howls of protest, the new majority ruled and the new Fiesta Council faction promptly voted down Shuster’s motion to declare vacancies.

The insurgents then brought out the heavy artillery. The Santa Fe businessmen, acting as a group, vowed to stop all and any contributions until the Fiesta was no longer run by the concessionaires and until the businessmen could have some say in Fiesta planning. Everyone knew, including the Fiesta Council, that without the financial contribution of the business community, there simply would be no Fiesta.

The Council quickly formed a so-called Blue Ribbon Committee to explore compromise but the negotiations didn’t last long. The rebel faction had three basic demands. First, that the concessionaires not be allowed to vote; second, that nobody got paid for rendering service to the Fiesta – that was a shot at one of the Council members who was being regularly paid a nice salary for being the council secretary -- and; third, that eight council members resign and new ones be elected to resolve the legal problem with the by-laws. The principals for the Fiesta Council flatly rejected the proposals and all talks were cut off.

But the battle had only begun.

First, Will Shuster demanded $3,000 to put on Zozobra. Usually, he did it for free, but now he said that as long as the Fiesta was being run as a carnival for profit, he might as well get some, too. His point was not lost on the Council, which had little money to begin with but could not envision a Fiesta without Zozobra.

Then, the Museum of New Mexico announced that it would not loan its buildings or facilities for Fiesta use and the New Mexico Alliance for the Arts pulled out of the Fiesta because the once proud event had degenerated into a honky-tonk carnival.

Then came the final straw: The Catholic Church announced it was not going to participate in Fiesta activities and it would hold typical Fiesta religious activities before or after the Fiesta, but not during Fiesta.

In desperation, the Fiesta Council recruited the respected director of the Museum of Fine Arts, Reginald Fisher, to come up with a plan to try to heal the rift. Fisher spoke with all parties, pondered the matter, then solemnly announced a proposed plan calling for the creation of a “popular” Fiesta and keeping the carnival aspects of this popular Fiesta apart in time and space from the more traditional and religious activities. Fisher also recommended restructuring the Fiesta Council along the lines suggested by the Members Committee. Stripped of fancy talk, this was exactly what the insurgents had requested.

Fiesta Council President John Valdez, Jr. publicly rejected the Fisher plan, promptly resigned as President and stormed out the door. At the next regular meeting, half the Council members failed to appear. The Council was in deep disarray. At long last, the Council caved.

A new president was elected, Del Miera, an affable insurance agent tied to the Santa Fe business community. He acted swiftly to disallow the out-of-town concessionaires from voting and sent emissaries from the various clubs and associations to Santa Fe businessmen to return them to the fold. Miera also ordered the carnival-like booths away from the plaza area to restore some dignity to the more traditional Fiesta events that usually took place on the town square. Miera issued an open invitation to one and all to help plan the 240-year-old annual celebration. Some Council Members stepped down and new ones were elected.

Declaring victory, the Church, the Museum and the businessmen all returned to the Council’s side, eager to set aside old disputes and make the 1952 Santa Fe Fiesta the best ever. Looking back, it is debatable whether the ’52 Fiesta was the best ever but it was easily the most expensive. Records show that the Fiesta Council ended up in debt at the end of the year, despite saving the $3,000 they didn’t have to pay Will Shuster who, as it turned out, happily produced Zozobra for free.

1940-1941 – The Lost Season

Judging from the local newspaper, Santa Fe led an active local sports life in 1941. Sports minded men and women participated in several organized leagues for bowling, softball, baseball and basketball. But high school athletics was the sports fan’s major interest, particularly the games between the cross-town rivals –the Santa Fe High School Demons and the St. Michael’s High School Horsemen -- a deep and abiding rivalry that went back to 1924 when the city’s only two high schools first began competing.

In 1940, St. Michael’s High School assembled the greatest Horseman basketball team in history. The Horsemen squad was anchored by the most excellent Buster Hiller and Sammy Ortiz as forwards, Stanley Gallup and Bobby Rutherford as guards and Tom Irigoyen at center. The Demons were strong as well, boasting Lavon McDonald and Billy Burrus at forward, Chester Clemens and Clyde Faucett at guard and David Livingston at center.

In the first regular season game between the ancient rivals in January 1940, the Horsemen scored fast and often but the Demons held on close behind, chasing the Horsemen 14-11 at the half. The Demons put on a rough defensive game, so rough that the two Demon guards fouled out in the 4^th quarter. But, by the end of the third quarter, Demon defense was simply academic. Horseman star Buster Hiller was on fire, scoring 19 points, with teammate Sammy Ortiz in for 8. The final score was Horsemen 32, Demons 17. By the scoring standards of the day, the Horsemen simply crushed the Demons.

In the second Horsemen-Demon match-up a month later, the Demons deliberately put up a “Stop Hiller” defense but it failed spectacularly. The Horsemen scored at will. Buster Hiller hit again for 19 points, Sammy Ortiz hit 10 and, right off the bench, Bobby Digneo hit 6 points. The Demons demonstrated no discernible offense, were unable to get inside and posted embarrassingly low shooting percentages. Demon high point man was Clyde Faucett with 5 and big David Livingston, the Demons’ highly vaunted scoring star, scored only 2 points. The Demons went down in flames, 42-19.

Notwithstanding their lopsided losses to the Horsemen, the Santa Fe High School Demons were formidable that year and it was inevitable that Santa Fe High and St. Mike’s would meet in the final game of the state championship tournament in 1940, hosted by Raton.

Naturally, the two teams from Santa Fe met each other in the big final game for the 1940 State High School Basketball Championship. It was an intense physical game with neither team giving quarter. The score was tied seven times, always the Horsemen playing catch-up to the Demons. But in the final minutes, the Horsemen shooters started to connect, and the Horsemen suddenly found themselves ahead 25-24. And, with just 25 seconds to go, the Horsemen had possession of the ball. Victory seemed assured.

Then, Demon Myral Delph shocked the Horsemen when he stole the ball, flew down the court all alone, and performed a picture-perfect lay-up. The only problem was that the ball refused to drop. Instead, the ball whirled around the rim 2 or 3 times and came right back out.

The all-important rebound fell to a Horseman who promptly heaved it down-court to a solitary Sammy Ortiz, standing a few feet from the basket, who made the easy shot, sealing the Horsemen win at 27-24.

Santa Fe went wild in celebration. It was, after all, the first time a Santa Fe team had ever won a state championship. Fans escorted the champions in from Raton in an auto caravan reportedly miles long. There were gaudy trophy presentations, city proclamations and banquets honoring the team by everyone from the Alumni to the Civitans. And five Horsemen players made all-state.

For the city’s high school sports fans, 1940 was glorious. But for the St. Michael’s High School Horsemen, it was the beginning of a long strange journey. It began with an invitation to play in the National Catholic High School tournament, an honor for a tiny Catholic boys school and an opportunity for national recognition. But, in order to play, St. Mike’s would have to join the national catholic high school association and, under the rules of both organizations, resign from the state high school association. This the school did, and off the team went.

The Horsemen did very well at the national tournament, winning everything up to the finals and then losing a close championship game to Central Catholic from Fort Wayne, Indiana. Thus, in 1940, the St. Michael’s Horsemen won second place among all catholic high school basketball teams in the nation. Having honorably concluded the 1940 season, St. Michael’s High School prepared for 1941.

A few months after the conclusion of National Catholic tournament, St. Michael’s High School applied to rejoin the state high school athletic association, expecting to be accepted as a matter of routine. The School was shocked when, without any explanation, the state association flatly denied their request. There were talks, there were letters, then tempers flared and, finally, the lawyers were called in. Predictably, there were rounds of meetings, then hearings, then a final appeal to the highest court in the state.

The matter was finally settled by the New Mexico Supreme Court which ordered the association to promptly reinstate St. Michael’s High School. But with all the legal wrangling, that decision had been almost a year in coming. In the meanwhile, St. Mike’s had missed an entire basketball season, not permitted to play other high schools. The school had formed a team anyway and the Horsemen played several independent schools, some of them as far away as Texas, and picked up several wins against City League teams.

And the Horsemen missed several games of the 1941 football season, as well. In fact, when St. Michael’s association membership was formally reinstated in late October 1941, it was just in time for the Capital City Football Tournament. An untested Horsemen team still managed to beat the Demons, 7-6, at Magers Field and take home a gleaming first place trophy.

Interestingly, the Demon football squad had such a good season in 1941 that they were invited to Denver to play against Colorado’s top teams, an opportunity St. Michael’s High School missed, thanks to the uncooperative state athletic association. In a signature display of sportsmanship and generosity, St. Michael’s High donated its share of the concession proceeds from the city tournament to Santa Fe High School to help finance the Demons’ trip to Denver.

The Horsemen Fight Song

Give a cheer for dear St. Michael’s

And forever sing its name

For the team that’s on the gridiron

Is extending on its fame.

Come on, boys, put that ball over

Get it there with plenty of fight.

Three cheers for all the Horsemen,

For the Blue and for the White.

Rah! Rah! Rah!