The Writing Life with Virgil Mathes
  • Home
  • About Me
  • My Novels
  • Writing
    • Academic Work >
      • Curriculum Vitae
      • Rhetoric and The Duel
    • Fiction
    • Poetry
  • Writin' the River
  • Contact
  • Friends

Writin' The River

My little space on the 'net  to discuss …

Magical Mogollon

12/10/2021

0 Comments

 
PictureThe Main Street of Mogollon is highly reminiscent of Bisbee, Az - complete with arroyo
​One of the singular joys of trekking the back roads in a Jeep is the treasures one finds; some are small, others larger, and sometimes one encounters an entire township of them. Such it was this past summer when my wife and I were visiting relatives in New Mexico. Hwy 159 just north of Glennwood, NM leads to the old ghost town of Mogollon. 
 
The journey is half the adventure, as Mogollon lies a half-dozen vertical miles off of Hwy 180 and it’s a narrow windy bit that can give those of delicate constitutions the vapors, but once there the town itself is a quaint village nestled in a deep valley that reminded me of Bisbee, AZ – another late 19th century mining town.
 
Founded in 1889, Mogollon enjoyed the typical boom of a mining town, followed by the bust that folllows; in the early 20th century the mines were producing wealth for all, but by WW1 they had virtually all been shut down.  The mines reopened during WW2 for a time, and even the Little Fanny Mine hung on the longest, producing until the early 1950s when it too shut down forever.
 
Now a berg of scarcely over 25 souls, Mogollon seems to hang on out of sheer will and memory of its former glory. There is a museum, a few private homes, the Purple Onion Cafe, and not much more.
 
But its remains honor the history of the boomtown mining camps of a hundred plus years ago, and there are historic structures and a cemetery at the top of the canyon that bears witness to the struggles of our forebears.  There are no t-shirts, really, or trinkets to buy, only the experience of visiting, which in a town like Mogollon, is more than enough.

Picture
Restored Pioneer cabin
Picture
The cemetery is a highlight of the trip!
0 Comments

Hidden History

5/28/2016

3 Comments

 
Picture

​My son and I were camping this week up on the Mogollon Rim country, near an unassuming little spot called Potato Lake.  On our way out to the paved road we happened along an isolated marble grave marker just off the side of Forest Service Road 300.  Since such markers are unusual here, I stopped to take a look, and was rewarded with a piece of Arizona history.
 
The marker was made of fine marble, engraved with the restrained description of the interred:  Andres Moreno, b. 1840 d. 1887, of 1st Battalion, Company E, Arizona Infantry.  As my son and I pondered the fate of this man who met his end 25 years before Arizona would become a state, a small herd of elk passed quietly behind the marker.  Who was this man?  What sort of pitched battle must he have been involved in to find his end here, in 1887?
 
Enter Google.  Andres Moreno was a Mexican from Sonora whose family moved north to Tubac when he was in his teens.  The Gadsden Purchase granted him American citizenship, and in 1865 he joined the Arizona Volunteer Infantry, which was being put together hastily to shore up Army duties in the Territory while Army regulars were being sent back East to fight in the Civil War.
 
The Arizona Volunteer Infantry was a hard-riding lot, or should I say hard-marching, as they left Tubac, AZ and marched all the way to Fort Whipple, near Prescott.  They spent a hard year fighting marauding bands of Apache with almost no support or meaningful resupply, and when their enlistment was up in 1865, they were grossly underpaid by a nearly bankrupt Territorial legislature who could only offer them their praise.
 
Moreno left for New Mexico, where he courted and married a Delfina Mazon, with whom he had several children.  He became a freighter, and this trade returned the family to Arizona, where the family once again sought their fortune on our soil from Barth to Globe. 
 
In 1887, Moreno contracted with a doctor and a lawyer, both going to Flagstaff, one to catch a train headed west and the other to assume a teaching position. Knox Lee, the lawyer, and Moreno engaged in a spirited dispute over who was responsible for providing the food for the journey, and this dispute came to a head along Baker’s Butte, on what is now Forest Road 300.  Moreno and Lee were detained to repair a harness, and while Moreno was bent over his work, Lee shot him in the back of the head.  He then re-arranged the crime scene to appear as though he shot Moreno in self defense.
 
Dr. Cook was able to ascertain that Lee’s story held no water, and Lee faced murder charges in Prescott.  Sadly, anti-Mexican sentiments ran high in 1887, and Lee was sentenced to the lighter charge of involuntary manslaughter; he was able to conduct a political letter-writing campaign to turn this into a pardon only a few months into his sentence.
 
Moreno’s grave remained unmarked for 60 years until his great-grandson Frank Moreno was able to locate the site in 1964 and petition the Veteran’s Administration to provide the headstone I saw, which was put into place by Forest Rangers.
 
As we head into Memorial Day weekend, I am struck by the serendipity by which I encountered this headstone and the story that accompanies it.  As we pass through this world, we owe our history, and our memory, to those we leave behind, even generations later.  It is to them that we entrust our stories, and our legacy, and that is the honorable burden each of us bear for the heroes who have passed before us.
 
 
 Works Cited
 
Brown, Stan.  “The Wild West in the Rim Country,” PaysonRoundup. Nov 30, 2011.
            Web. May 27, 2016

3 Comments

Ambivalence of Wilderness

12/22/2015

0 Comments

 
​A few weeks ago I took a short trip up to the Mogollon Rim, and found myself hiking around the West Clear Creek area.  I encountered a line of barbed wire fencing which bore this sign:
Picture
​Quite frankly, I think the point of this post is that I’m not sure how I feel about this sign – or rather, the idea behind this sign, what this sign represents.  On the one hand, I am gladdened to know that the state has set aside tracts of land for wilderness, land that will presumably remain relatively pristine and untouched by logging, logging roads, and the ubiquitous Winnebago RV.
 
Still, I wonder what it means that to be behind this sign, behind this permeable boundary represented by barbed wire (barbed wire, of course, is the quintessential symbol of civilization for every westerner).  What does it mean to the tree in front of this sign versus one of the pines behind it?  Do foraging elk care what this barbed wire represents?  Do the bear?
 
“Wilderness” is defined by an online dictionary as “a wild and uncultivated region, as of forest or desert, uninhabited or inhabited only by wild animals; a tract of wasteland” (dictionary.com).  According the Wilderness Act of 1964, “A wilderness, in contrast with those areas where man and his own works dominate the landscape, is hereby recognized as an area where the earth and its community of life are untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain.”
 
Such definitions fit the legal designation, the denotative meaning of the sign, but there is another meaning of wilderness, a more connotative definition that hinges on the root word “wild.” That which is wild is natural and unrestrained, and how can a state restrain through barbed wire borders that which is properly, by definition, unrestrained?  Doug Peacock, author of Grizzly Years, used a different definition, saying “it ain’t wilderness unless there’s a critter out there that can kill you and eat you.”   I love this definition.
 
This is not to suggest that there is something morally superior about being mauled by a bear, but that there may be something morally superior in choosing to tread where one is not guaranteed of being the apex predator.  Here is the psychological value of wilderness for mankind, especially in the highly complex, technologically driven cultures of first-world nations.
 
It’s good for the state to designate land as “wilderness” in order to protect it from the ravages of civilization, both the rapacious industries of logging and mining as well as the well-intentioned consumption of RV campers.  But don’t be fooled; it’s not really wilderness until you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. 
0 Comments

    Author

    Join me as I postulate about literature, popular culture, martial arts, and who knows what else.

    Archives

    July 2021
    April 2021
    March 2021
    February 2021
    July 2020
    June 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020
    October 2019
    June 2018
    April 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    June 2017
    April 2017
    November 2016
    July 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015

    Categories

    All
    1860 Army
    21 Foot Rule
    45-70
    Adult Choices
    Andres Moreno
    Arizona
    Arizona Rangers
    Bagwell
    Ballad Of The Laurie Swain
    Battle Blade
    Battle Blades
    Battle School
    Ben Foster
    Big Iron
    Bill Jordan
    BLM
    Bone Tomahawk
    Book Review
    Bowie
    Brotherhood
    Cancel Culture
    Case Bowie
    Chopped
    Christian Bale
    Civil Rights
    Clear Creek
    Cold Steel
    Color Guard
    Colt
    Community Service
    Confederate
    COVID
    CustomerService
    Darren Castle
    Defensive
    Democracy
    DiCaprio
    Dinosaur
    Donald Sutherland
    Doug Peacock
    Education
    Expendables Bowie
    Family
    Flu
    Forsaken
    Fortress
    Frank Williams
    Freedom
    Frontier
    Gary Johnson
    Greeting
    Grey Westerns
    Grizzly Years
    Harley Davidson
    Hateful Eight
    Helles Belle
    HEMA
    Heroes
    High School
    Hillary
    Hobgoblins
    Honor
    Hostiles
    Hugh Glass
    Infantry
    James Keating
    Jill Stein
    Jurassic World
    Just Be
    Justified
    Keep Rubber Side Down
    Keifer Sutherland
    Kindle
    Knife
    Learning
    Legacy
    Lever Action
    Lynne Holliday
    Mandated
    Marlin
    Marty Robbins
    Memorial
    Michigan
    Mogollon Rim
    Monuments
    Motorcycle
    Mountain Men
    Movie Review
    Movie Reviews
    Movie Violence
    Musso Bowie
    Natchez Bowie
    Navajo
    Officer Darrin Reed
    Old West
    Phoenix Society
    Plowshare Forge
    Police
    Presidential Race 2016
    Quentin Tarantino
    Ranger
    Ranger Up
    Range War
    Rebirth
    Relax
    Revenant
    River
    River City Sheath
    Roomba
    SAA
    Seminar
    Service
    Short Story Collection
    Show Low
    Skinwalkers
    State Firearm
    Statues
    Student
    Success
    Swordsmanship
    Third Party Candidates
    Thuer
    Tolerance
    Tony Hillerman
    Training
    Trump
    Utopia
    Vacuum
    Volunteer
    Water Closet
    Wattpad
    Welcome
    Wes Studi
    Westerns
    Wilderness
    Winchester
    Writing

    RSS Feed

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.