Morning in Tucumcari - bright, cool and crisp. I have my ritual breakfast of huevos rancheros at the Pow Wow Inn on the main drag. The old motels, restaurants and gas stations are vestiges of Tucumcari's history as a fabled stop on Historic Route 66.
It's a short stretch on I-40 to Santa Rosa, then south on U.S. 54 through hilly range country. Vaughn, Corona, then Carrizozo and a stop at Roy's old-fashioned soda fountain. Then south past the Trinity Site, where the world's first A-bomb was detonated in 1945 - a grim reminder of our capacity to destroy ourselves along with others.
U.S. 54 leads to Tularosa, then Alamogordo (Spanish for big cottonwood) to U.S. 70, past Holloman Air Force Base, White Sands National Monument and across White Sands Missile Range. Then, up the east side of the Organ Mountains, over St. Augustine Pass, and down the west side overlooking Las Cruces and the Mesilla Valley.
It's an impressive scene in the late afternoon sunshine. But the growth - it's overwhelming, even frightening. Growth - all communities ostensibly want it, but this is ridiculous. It's like Tucson a half century ago, and we know how Tucson changed from a jewel in the desert to a smog-laden metropolis.
I stop at the office of old pal, Doc Galles, master of the healing arts. On the way to my motel I run into a traffic jam. Traffic jams in Las Cruces - growth, too much, too fast. Bring back the sleepy college town of yore.
That evening, Doc, his girlfriend Belia, and I hit Fat Eddie's for some Mexican food. At least some things remain constant - Fat Eddie's still a favored haunt on Avenida de Mesilla.
The next morning I have breakfast with another pal and former colleague, Clyde Eastman. After solving the world's problems, I head over to romantic Old Mesilla to check in with Jacque who, in my absence, manages my next-door adobe. It's too early for the apricot trees to bloom, and the irrigation ditches are still dry, but my tenants are content, the mourning doves are cooing, and it feels like spring in the air.
And happily, there still is open space with Pecan trees adjacent to the adobe. The retired MD who owns that space intends to keep it that way, but what about his heirs?
Growth again - can it at least me managed? Old Mesilla, a miniature Santa Fe, has strict zoning and building codes, requiring adherence to Spanish style architecture. And, no ketchup palaces allowed.
The rough lane that used to be filled with puddles when it rains has been replaced with black top. I prefer it the old way. But at least we still have to walk to the post office to pick up the mail. It's a great way to meet and chat with the neighbors.
I take the three-minute stroll over to the plaza, site of signing the Gadsden Purchase that added southern New Mexico and Arizona to these United States. The Plaza is anchored by the church at one end and is surrounded by historic buildings. These include a jail that briefly housed Billy the Kid before his escape. The La Posta Restaurant once was a stop on the old Butterfield Stage Line. The Double Eagle Bar and Restaurant's "Carlotta Room," site of romance, murder and intrigue, is haunted. Hogwash, you say? Well, how come employees refuse to stay late by themselves after dark?
I'm drawn inexorably to that restaurant, order a bowl of posole and a Negra Modelo beer, and study the tourists languishing on the plaza, soaking up the afternoon sun. I once rendered a couple of selections with my accordion on that plaza during a Cinco de Mayo celebration - it's been a long time.
Growth - how does old Mesilla manage it, and retain its charm? It's clear they have retained their history, culture and traditions. That's a good placed to start. Every place has its history, culture and traditions. We natives of Green County are immensely proud of ours. We're fortunate to have the many volunteers who strive to preserve the Turner Hall, put together Cheese Days, the Wilhelm Tell Festival, the Polka Fest, and all the rest of it.
Just as the Plaza is the heart and soul of Old Mesilla, so the Swiss Church and First Street anchors New Glarus, and the Square is the heart and soul of Monroe.
But what else?
As proud as we are of our history and traditions, we need the fresh ideas and talent of new residents to staff our award-winning Monroe Clinic and Hospital, our public school systems, and other public and private enterprises, big and small. We need the talent and energy to start new businesses, examples of which include the Earth Rider bicycle shop in Brodhead, the Dining Room at 209 Main in Monticello, and the Albion Sword Factory in New Glarus.
It's a matter of blending of the old and the new. "Future Forward! Green County" is analyzing the factors that make this region a desirable place for people to live and work. There are many other organizations too numerous to mention working toward making this region more desirable. We need to encourage them, and participate.
I finish my posole and stroll over to Julienne's jewelry store on the plaza where Sherry used to work. It's been a long time, but Julienne recognizes me. I don't stay long, as she is busy with customers - very busy, the upside of growth. Besides, I have other errands and people to visit, before heading back to Wisconsin.
Growth, balanced and sustainable. We can have it here, too.
- Monroe resident John Waelti is former Professor of Applied Economics University of Minnesota; and Professor Emeritus, New Mexico State University. He can be reached at jjwaelti@charter.net.
It's a short stretch on I-40 to Santa Rosa, then south on U.S. 54 through hilly range country. Vaughn, Corona, then Carrizozo and a stop at Roy's old-fashioned soda fountain. Then south past the Trinity Site, where the world's first A-bomb was detonated in 1945 - a grim reminder of our capacity to destroy ourselves along with others.
U.S. 54 leads to Tularosa, then Alamogordo (Spanish for big cottonwood) to U.S. 70, past Holloman Air Force Base, White Sands National Monument and across White Sands Missile Range. Then, up the east side of the Organ Mountains, over St. Augustine Pass, and down the west side overlooking Las Cruces and the Mesilla Valley.
It's an impressive scene in the late afternoon sunshine. But the growth - it's overwhelming, even frightening. Growth - all communities ostensibly want it, but this is ridiculous. It's like Tucson a half century ago, and we know how Tucson changed from a jewel in the desert to a smog-laden metropolis.
I stop at the office of old pal, Doc Galles, master of the healing arts. On the way to my motel I run into a traffic jam. Traffic jams in Las Cruces - growth, too much, too fast. Bring back the sleepy college town of yore.
That evening, Doc, his girlfriend Belia, and I hit Fat Eddie's for some Mexican food. At least some things remain constant - Fat Eddie's still a favored haunt on Avenida de Mesilla.
The next morning I have breakfast with another pal and former colleague, Clyde Eastman. After solving the world's problems, I head over to romantic Old Mesilla to check in with Jacque who, in my absence, manages my next-door adobe. It's too early for the apricot trees to bloom, and the irrigation ditches are still dry, but my tenants are content, the mourning doves are cooing, and it feels like spring in the air.
And happily, there still is open space with Pecan trees adjacent to the adobe. The retired MD who owns that space intends to keep it that way, but what about his heirs?
Growth again - can it at least me managed? Old Mesilla, a miniature Santa Fe, has strict zoning and building codes, requiring adherence to Spanish style architecture. And, no ketchup palaces allowed.
The rough lane that used to be filled with puddles when it rains has been replaced with black top. I prefer it the old way. But at least we still have to walk to the post office to pick up the mail. It's a great way to meet and chat with the neighbors.
I take the three-minute stroll over to the plaza, site of signing the Gadsden Purchase that added southern New Mexico and Arizona to these United States. The Plaza is anchored by the church at one end and is surrounded by historic buildings. These include a jail that briefly housed Billy the Kid before his escape. The La Posta Restaurant once was a stop on the old Butterfield Stage Line. The Double Eagle Bar and Restaurant's "Carlotta Room," site of romance, murder and intrigue, is haunted. Hogwash, you say? Well, how come employees refuse to stay late by themselves after dark?
I'm drawn inexorably to that restaurant, order a bowl of posole and a Negra Modelo beer, and study the tourists languishing on the plaza, soaking up the afternoon sun. I once rendered a couple of selections with my accordion on that plaza during a Cinco de Mayo celebration - it's been a long time.
Growth - how does old Mesilla manage it, and retain its charm? It's clear they have retained their history, culture and traditions. That's a good placed to start. Every place has its history, culture and traditions. We natives of Green County are immensely proud of ours. We're fortunate to have the many volunteers who strive to preserve the Turner Hall, put together Cheese Days, the Wilhelm Tell Festival, the Polka Fest, and all the rest of it.
Just as the Plaza is the heart and soul of Old Mesilla, so the Swiss Church and First Street anchors New Glarus, and the Square is the heart and soul of Monroe.
But what else?
As proud as we are of our history and traditions, we need the fresh ideas and talent of new residents to staff our award-winning Monroe Clinic and Hospital, our public school systems, and other public and private enterprises, big and small. We need the talent and energy to start new businesses, examples of which include the Earth Rider bicycle shop in Brodhead, the Dining Room at 209 Main in Monticello, and the Albion Sword Factory in New Glarus.
It's a matter of blending of the old and the new. "Future Forward! Green County" is analyzing the factors that make this region a desirable place for people to live and work. There are many other organizations too numerous to mention working toward making this region more desirable. We need to encourage them, and participate.
I finish my posole and stroll over to Julienne's jewelry store on the plaza where Sherry used to work. It's been a long time, but Julienne recognizes me. I don't stay long, as she is busy with customers - very busy, the upside of growth. Besides, I have other errands and people to visit, before heading back to Wisconsin.
Growth, balanced and sustainable. We can have it here, too.
- Monroe resident John Waelti is former Professor of Applied Economics University of Minnesota; and Professor Emeritus, New Mexico State University. He can be reached at jjwaelti@charter.net.
