It has been a nice trip - across the Mississippi to Iowa and friends in Cedar Falls. Then across the Great Plains to the front range of the Rockies, over the Sangre de Cristo Mountains to Colorado's San Luis Valley, then over the San Juans and the Continental Divide, and down the western slope to Pagosa Springs along the banks of the San Juan River.
It was a pleasant dinner with Elmer Schettler and his mate, Anne, and Norma and Fred Harman Jr., son of rancher and cowboy artist Fred Harman, creator of Red Ryder, cowboy hero of the 1940s. Saturday morning in Pagosa Springs - time to leave Colorado. But first, breakfast of eggs and green chile, and a quick drive out to the Fred Harman Western Art Museum - to pick up a couple of items and say good-bye to the Harmans.
Before leaving town I hit one of the spas to soak in a hot tub on the roof and take in that southern Colorado sunshine. In an adjacent tub I hear some folks mention Milwaukee and Green Bay. Sure enough, some cheeseheads are soaking up the Colorado sun. We chat for a while, mainly about the intercepted pass by Green Bay that was ruled a Seahawks catch.
Mid afternoon - I head south into New Mexico high country and, amidst alternate sunshine and brief rain showers, wind my way south through scenic hills.
Readers may recall previous columns I wrote about the Owl Bar in San Antonio, New Mexico, and its connection with green chile cheeseburgers, hotel magnate Conrad Hilton, and the nuclear scientists preparing the Trinity Site in 1945 for the world's first nuclear explosion. Although I had been to the Owl Bar and had written about it, I had never interviewed the present owners. Since the Owl Bar was on the route to Las Cruces, this might be my chance.
Finding a spot among the hills where I could get a signal, I gave Mrs. Rowena Baca a call. Bingo. I was in luck; she answered. She said she would be able to see me the following Wednesday. Okay, good; we set the date.
I stop at Espanola for the night, a few miles north of Santa Fe. Next morning I drive through Santa Fe - great town, but not designed for its mushrooming population. Through town and onto I-25, I drive the rest of the way to Las Cruces and old Mesilla, autumn temperatures in the 80s with plenty of sunshine. It's dark when I arrive at my adobe guesthouse, but I manage to crank up the water heater, and sweep out the place before hitting the sack.
The next few days I visit friends, do some yard work, get my Friday column off to Mary Jane, and enjoy some great Mexican food. On Wednesday, I drive the 150 miles up to the Owl Bar to interview Mrs. Rowena Baca.
Upon entering the dimly lit room, one sees the wooden bar along the length of the room. I meet Mrs. Baca and we grab a booth, sit down and chat. She confirms that it is the original wooden bar that was rescued from Augustus Halvorsen Hilton's original rooming house when it caught fire. The wooden bar remained unused until 1945 when a mysterious bunch of "prospectors" came to town and stayed at Gus Hilton's rooming house. He had the only telephone and gasoline in town. These "prospectors" tied up his telephone line and seemed uncommonly able to procure his rationed gasoline.
One J.E. Miera, Rowena's grandfather, had been running a general store in town since the 1930s. In 1945 his son-in-law, Frank Chavez (Rowena's father), returned from the Navy and opened a bar in the back of the grocery store, using the abandoned wooden bar that had been rescued from Gus Hilton's establishment. At the request of the "prospectors," he started serving food, and thus was born the now famous Owl Bar green chile cheeseburgers.
These "prospectors" throwing money across Gus Hilton's wooden bar were the nuclear scientists preparing the Trinity Site, some 27 miles distant, for testing the first atomic bomb. Gus Hilton was the father of Conrad Hilton, the future hotel magnate. That's a lot of history crammed into a small corner of New Mexico desert.
Mrs. Baca tells of an occasion during the 1960s when Conrad Hilton returned to nearby Socorro for the "Hilton Golf Tour." Conrad and Rowena's grandfather were at the Owl, dancing with the ladies and enjoying food that had been cooked especially for Conrad. When some dignitaries came to remind Hilton that he was needed over in Socorro for the golf tour, he replied that he would rather "stay here with my people."
On another occasion, Conrad Hilton III returned to visit. Rowena's daughter then was a local schoolteacher. When Hilton asked if there was any way he could help, Rowena's daughter replied that the school could use some computers that were just coming into common usage. Conrad III soon supplied them.
Rowena tells of the time when Barron Hilton, Conrad's son, returned and offered to buy the original wooden bar that graces the Owl. He wanted to bring it to his father's first hotel in Cisco, Texas. Rowena declined the offer and it remains in the Owl, as it has since 1945.
I asked Rowena if she had any recollection of the 1945 atomic blast at the Trinity Site, July 15, 05:29:45 MDT. She recalls being in her bedroom, and the entire room turning bright red. She said her mother was furious that they had not been evacuated from the area.
The Trinity Site is open to the public only twice a year. I had not planned it that way, but it was to be open the following Saturday.
Next Week: Visiting the Trinity Site.
- John Waelti's column appears every Friday in the Times. He can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net.
It was a pleasant dinner with Elmer Schettler and his mate, Anne, and Norma and Fred Harman Jr., son of rancher and cowboy artist Fred Harman, creator of Red Ryder, cowboy hero of the 1940s. Saturday morning in Pagosa Springs - time to leave Colorado. But first, breakfast of eggs and green chile, and a quick drive out to the Fred Harman Western Art Museum - to pick up a couple of items and say good-bye to the Harmans.
Before leaving town I hit one of the spas to soak in a hot tub on the roof and take in that southern Colorado sunshine. In an adjacent tub I hear some folks mention Milwaukee and Green Bay. Sure enough, some cheeseheads are soaking up the Colorado sun. We chat for a while, mainly about the intercepted pass by Green Bay that was ruled a Seahawks catch.
Mid afternoon - I head south into New Mexico high country and, amidst alternate sunshine and brief rain showers, wind my way south through scenic hills.
Readers may recall previous columns I wrote about the Owl Bar in San Antonio, New Mexico, and its connection with green chile cheeseburgers, hotel magnate Conrad Hilton, and the nuclear scientists preparing the Trinity Site in 1945 for the world's first nuclear explosion. Although I had been to the Owl Bar and had written about it, I had never interviewed the present owners. Since the Owl Bar was on the route to Las Cruces, this might be my chance.
Finding a spot among the hills where I could get a signal, I gave Mrs. Rowena Baca a call. Bingo. I was in luck; she answered. She said she would be able to see me the following Wednesday. Okay, good; we set the date.
I stop at Espanola for the night, a few miles north of Santa Fe. Next morning I drive through Santa Fe - great town, but not designed for its mushrooming population. Through town and onto I-25, I drive the rest of the way to Las Cruces and old Mesilla, autumn temperatures in the 80s with plenty of sunshine. It's dark when I arrive at my adobe guesthouse, but I manage to crank up the water heater, and sweep out the place before hitting the sack.
The next few days I visit friends, do some yard work, get my Friday column off to Mary Jane, and enjoy some great Mexican food. On Wednesday, I drive the 150 miles up to the Owl Bar to interview Mrs. Rowena Baca.
Upon entering the dimly lit room, one sees the wooden bar along the length of the room. I meet Mrs. Baca and we grab a booth, sit down and chat. She confirms that it is the original wooden bar that was rescued from Augustus Halvorsen Hilton's original rooming house when it caught fire. The wooden bar remained unused until 1945 when a mysterious bunch of "prospectors" came to town and stayed at Gus Hilton's rooming house. He had the only telephone and gasoline in town. These "prospectors" tied up his telephone line and seemed uncommonly able to procure his rationed gasoline.
One J.E. Miera, Rowena's grandfather, had been running a general store in town since the 1930s. In 1945 his son-in-law, Frank Chavez (Rowena's father), returned from the Navy and opened a bar in the back of the grocery store, using the abandoned wooden bar that had been rescued from Gus Hilton's establishment. At the request of the "prospectors," he started serving food, and thus was born the now famous Owl Bar green chile cheeseburgers.
These "prospectors" throwing money across Gus Hilton's wooden bar were the nuclear scientists preparing the Trinity Site, some 27 miles distant, for testing the first atomic bomb. Gus Hilton was the father of Conrad Hilton, the future hotel magnate. That's a lot of history crammed into a small corner of New Mexico desert.
Mrs. Baca tells of an occasion during the 1960s when Conrad Hilton returned to nearby Socorro for the "Hilton Golf Tour." Conrad and Rowena's grandfather were at the Owl, dancing with the ladies and enjoying food that had been cooked especially for Conrad. When some dignitaries came to remind Hilton that he was needed over in Socorro for the golf tour, he replied that he would rather "stay here with my people."
On another occasion, Conrad Hilton III returned to visit. Rowena's daughter then was a local schoolteacher. When Hilton asked if there was any way he could help, Rowena's daughter replied that the school could use some computers that were just coming into common usage. Conrad III soon supplied them.
Rowena tells of the time when Barron Hilton, Conrad's son, returned and offered to buy the original wooden bar that graces the Owl. He wanted to bring it to his father's first hotel in Cisco, Texas. Rowena declined the offer and it remains in the Owl, as it has since 1945.
I asked Rowena if she had any recollection of the 1945 atomic blast at the Trinity Site, July 15, 05:29:45 MDT. She recalls being in her bedroom, and the entire room turning bright red. She said her mother was furious that they had not been evacuated from the area.
The Trinity Site is open to the public only twice a year. I had not planned it that way, but it was to be open the following Saturday.
Next Week: Visiting the Trinity Site.
- John Waelti's column appears every Friday in the Times. He can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net.
