Random Stories from My Youth – the Valley

We loved exploring the Hondo Valley where my grandparents, Charles & Nina Hughes lived ...

The Valley.  The Hondo Valley was not far from where we lived and we often headed that way to see my Granny & Granddaddy [see the blogs My Grandfather Remembered posted on May 14, 2021 and My Granny posted on June 28, 2021] who moved from Virginia upon my grandfather’s retirement in 1964, and settled near us in the valley at San Patricio, New Mexico.  

Our love affair with the Hondo Valley began when my folks found a lovely little house and orchard for Mom’s parents along the Hondo River.  My Granny and Granddaddy absolutely loved their oasis in the valley which was their last home together.  We visited often, played and swam in the river, and picked apples in the orchard.  We would often bring home apples and pears from Granny & Granddaddy’s orchards, and apple cider and red chili ristras from roadside vendors.

Before Granny & Granddaddy arrived we had never lived near any other family members, and we loved it.  My parents and grandparents got to know a lot of wonderful people in the Hondo valley and it was clear that it was a community that enjoyed and took care of each other.  

More family.  Within a year or two, my mother’s sister and her husband, Nina & John Stevens, arrived from Virginia with their 5 children to be near everyone.  Aunt Teene (Nina) and Uncle John lived on a small alfalfa and cattle farm in Hondo known as the Bible Farm, and we spent plenty of time at that place as well as our grandparents’ home.  Their stay was short-lived though because a year or so later, the Stevens family moved on to California and a new job opportunity for Uncle John. 

The orchard.  Granny & Granddaddy had a small apple orchard and in the fall they would sell apples mostly to individuals or families, or contract a small picker to take most of them to the apple processing house in the valley.  Granddaddy also always had a few sheep who would keep the grass down under the trees so he didn’t have to mow it.  And of course, the sheep loved eating any fallen apples, as well. 

There was also a pear tree in Granny & Granddaddy’s front yard.  We always made pear preserves from those pears, and also apple preserves.  And we brought home baskets or boxes of apples for pies which went in the freezer along with pints of fried apples. 

The apple house.  My grandparents’ property included an apple house and stand across from their front yard and up on the edge of the highway.  I loved spending fall weekends with them and helping to sell baskets of apples to customers. I can distinctly remember how proud I was one Saturday when I sold $20 worth of apples!

 

The river.  The Hondo River ran through their property and was in a dropped area just behind their back porch and yard.  It was a small river, usually only about 15 feet or so across.  There was a deeper area shaded by overhanging trees also behind their house that was delightful for swimming on a hot summer day.  And a rope swing attached to the largest tree allowed us to swing out over the water hole and drop off in the water – lots of fun.  When we came out of the river, we were always a muddy mess, so Granddaddy would rinse us off with the water hose and then we would have some lemonade while we dried off on the back porch. 

The flood.  In June of 1965, only a year after my grandparents settled in their sweet adobe home in the Hondo Valley, the Hondo River flooded and water ended up six feet deep in their home.  There was unusually heavy rain in the mountains and it was more than the river could hold.  I was at summer camp that week so I don’t remember the event, but Granny & Granddaddy got to higher ground which was an apple house at the top of their property, and they were safe. 

Once the water receded everyone helped and we started drying everything out, cleaning, repairing what could be repaired, and working to make their home habitable again.  I think that the fact that it was an adobe home, not built with lots of wood and modern materials, made the repairs and recovery less daunting. 

Granny & Granddaddy lost most of their personal possessions in that flood.  And I think that the loss that hurt my Granny the most was the loss of her papers and family photos.  I remember that my mother wrote to her Aunt Louise and other family members to ask if they would send copies of some of their photos for Granny. 

My grandparents however loved their home and didn’t want to leave after the flood.  So they moved in with us for a short while, and once their house was again habitable, they returned to their much loved home in the Valley. The Hondo River never flooded again during the next decade that they lived there.

The Bible Farm.  At the time of the flood, Mom & Dad also owned the small farm in Hondo called the Bible Farm where the fields of alfalfa were used for cattle grazing.  The flood also swept through those fields and killed 32 of their registered Brangus cattle.

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Key Individuals:

     Robert Gordon Scribner  (1923 – 2006)

     Ann Hart Hughes Scribner  (1921 – 2006)

               Jane Hughes Scribner Simonitsch McCrary (1953 – and more)

               and my four siblings:  Bob, Jeff, David and Mary Ann                     

- Jane Scribner McCrary

Random Stories from My Youth – the Southwest

Please forgive me if I am rambling on too long with my memories, but once I got started, it was difficult to stop!

 

A love of Southwestern Indian culture and art.   While living in Yuma, Arizona for Dad’s last military assignment, my parents became enamored with native American Indian culture and art of the Southwest.  Their interest in Southwestern culture and arts lasted the rest of their life with the accumulation of Indian jewelry, finely woven baskets and textiles, and pottery and art that was prominently displayed in our home. 

Art and artists.  Mom & Dad were both very interested in art and they built a nice art collection over the years.  They very much enjoyed learning about local artists and visiting art galleries during our travels throughout the southwest.  They became good friends with Peter Hurd and his wife Henriette Wyeth who lived in the nearby Hondo Valley.  Peter loved to entertain at their small ranch which included a large sprawling ranch house, painting studios for both Peter and Henriette and also a polo field.  We would sometimes head down to the valley to attend one of their all-day parties that included playing horse polo (we just watched), barbeque and tables of picnic food, both inside the ranch house and outside in the courtyard with outdoor fire pits.  And Peter and others often played the guitar in the evenings. 

I remember that Peter Hurd was commissioned to paint the White House portrait for Lyndon B Johnson, but there was a bru-ha-ha about it because evidently once it was finished, President Johnson didn’t like it; and I don’t think it went in the White House.  I remember that we all got to go into Peter’s studio around that time and look at the painting which was a big deal because both of the Hurd’s rarely would allow anyone in their studios.

Another artistic couple, and good friends of my parents, was Tom & Dorothy Knapp who also lived in the Hondo Valley.  Tom Knapp was a bronze sculpture artist and he decided to build his own foundry.  Dad helped him at times, and they would sometimes have “pouring parties” to pour some of Tom’s bronze sculpture pieces.  And there was one time, a visit to the El Paso home of a well-known artist named Manuel Acosta ended up with my parents buying one of his art pieces that he was using to cover broken glass on a door.

From Arizona to New Mexico.  The decision was made to buy the ranch in Alto, New Mexico [see the blog post Aviator to Rancher posted on September 30, 2023] around 1961, and Mom & Dad began planning to build our home and the stables and fence the fields.  They hired a man, Dick Sellers, to oversee the property and animals and he moved into an old ranch house that was on the property with his wife and two children.  Bob, my older brother, and I moved in with the Sellers family in September of 1963 to start the school year in Ruidoso.  And Mom & Dad and the two younger children stayed in Yuma, Arizona for a few more months for Dad to complete his retirement and because Mom was very pregnant with Mary Ann who was born at the end of September. 

By mid-fall we were all back together in a small rented cabin in the Upper Canyon north of Ruidoso where we stayed while our new home was being built.   Just up the road from our cabin was the border of the Lincoln National Forest.  A small river, more like a creek, ran through the canyon.  Anyway, the cabin was not very solidly built as I remember that in my bedroom the walls were slatted boards with no insulation.  One board had a knot-hole in the wood that was about 2” across – and when looking through it I could see outside with the snow falling down!

Bricks for the house at the ranch.     The bricks that were used to build the ranch house and the stables were oversized, fired adobe bricks that were made in Mexico, and picked up at the border.  My older brother, Bob, shared the story of those bricks with me.  He wrote:

Back when we were building our first home in Ruidoso, Mom and Dad had spent years designing the house and having drawings made up over and over.  The final drawing that their builder in Ruidoso used showed a lot of brick for the outside.  Mom had gone with Dad to Nogales [a border town in Mexico] to pick out what brick they wanted and to buy a bunch of other stuff for the house.

Anyway, when it was time to go down and pick up the brick, Dad and I took the station wagon and trailer down to get it.  That was when we found out we had a problem.  Apparently, Mom and Dad had already bought so much stuff [for the new house] in Mexico that they exceeded the amount that they were allowed to bring into the States from Mexico in one year.

The solution was simple.  The brick manufacturer loaded it all up in a truck they had in Mexico and then drove it out to the boonies in the middle of nowhere on the Mexican side of the border.  Dad and I and a couple of day laborers that he picked up for the day met the manufacturer on the U.S. side of the border.  In those days the border was not patrolled like it is now and only a simple 8-foot fence separated the two countries.  So we spent all day with the manufacturer's men throwing the bricks over the fence and with Dad, me and a couple of guys he hired catching the bricks and stacking them on our trailer... in other words, "running the blockade of the fence." 

*  *  *  *  *

 

Key Individuals:

     Robert Gordon Scribner  (1923 – 2006)

     Ann Hart Hughes Scribner  (1921 – 2006)

               Jane Hughes Scribner Simonitsch McCrary (1953 – and more)

               and my four siblings:  Bob, Jeff, David and Mary Ann                                  

- Jane Scribner McCrary