My first Zozobra, Sept. 1, 1960. Truly a monstrous front page, from the first-name reference to the governor to the juxtaposition of the “Natives Massacred” headline on a Congo story over a photo of Santa Fe kid in a Native headdress. In other news that day, my mother got hit in the head with an …
This was my delivery route for the Santa Fe New Mexican in 1961. At least it’s what I remember at 2 am, waking in my living room chair in Placitas 64 years later. Acequia Madre from Garcia Street to Camino del Monte Sol, Garcia from Acequia Madre to Canyon Road, Delgado from Acequia Madre to …
Green chile chicken stew for dinner. Using the Range Cafe recipe for the first time, although I’ve often enjoyed it in nearby Bernalillo. Cowboy 2.0 has gone to bed before the polls close but probably will join me on the couch later when he realizes I’m still up. Among other things, I’m wishing my brother …
My father, Bob Robertson, 12/18/28 — 11/12/95. Canyon Road and Hamilton Mesa, Santa Fe and Pecos Wilderness, 1970s. Dad, stepmother Pat and Mus heading down the Rito Valdez to Mora Flats. He got to relax a little after newspapering and the Peace Corps, before family care reeled him back again.
I was doing some casual research on the history of Zozobra and Santa Fe Fiesta when I came across a front-page news story by Old Gloomy himself. In fairness to the newspaper’s current publisher and editor, I note right off the bat that the Zozobra byline appeared in the Aug. 20, 1943, edition of the …
I’m not sure I ever met Javier Gonzales, the former mayor of Santa Fe who died of cancer at age 56 on February 9, but I was acquainted with his father and I followed the son’s career. I always had a sense that he was a solid Santa Fe soul, someone who might have struggled …
After reading about the latest Santa Fe style controversy — “Santa Fe takes battle over green house to court” — I wanted to revisit an old New Yorker cartoon. It helps me keep my head on straight. I have to note, though, that hysterical style debates don’t just happen in Santa Fe. I moved …
I woke up knowing it was a special day. First I thought winter solstice but, no, three days too early. Then I looked up at the first light on the cold mountain and remembered your birthday. I think this had something to do with memories of frigid campsites first thing in the morning. Think Beatty’s …
Conversations with friends about the destruction of the Santa Fe Plaza obelisk this week sent me to the Newspapers.com archives of the Santa Fe New Mexican, where I started working the year the word “savage” was chiseled away. I found the original story from Aug. 8, 1974. I found that it was below-the-fold news on …
dream ranch 