Morgan Freight Company?

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Cousin Lydia found this photo in the Historical Society Archives.  She wonders if it might be an early picture of the Morgan Freight Company, the early Mudgap business that used to run the only store in town back in the wild west days.  She thinks one of the drivers is probably St. George Goodspeed, who was apparently a local character.  She says she doubts it because Goodspeed evidently favored mules and these look like horses.

Anyone Recognize this Picture?

Anyone have an opinion?  Lydia thinks it was taken at the bottom of what is now called Hobo Hill, heading out of town.  But what are they carrying?  Not gold, certainly.

The Panic of 1837-Willie Porter

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Hi Everyone.  Me again.  The Historical Society just announced an exhibition of Mudgap’s own local storyteller, Willie Porter.  We don’t have recordings of Willie himself but several old timers from Camp Rockman remember Willie’s tales about his Uncle Nap and bring them alive for our microphones.  To publicize the exhibit we’re posting one of Willie’s shorter performances, first published by the Lodestone Chronicle on President Martin Van Buren’s birthday in 1966.  Herewith, “The Panic of ’37,” by Willie Porter.

            The Baldwin Mogul locomotive rattled over Hobo Hill and shrilled to a stop beside a red lettered sign: “Excursion Train Owned by Lownde Salvage Yard.”  From within the Independence Day crowd a fanfare of flamboyant whiskers spotted the engineer dismounting the cab.  “William Cody Porter?”

             Swirling vapors billowed away.  “I’m Willie Porter.”

            “I’m President Martin Van Buren and I have a bone to pick with you.”

            Willie’s gesture was interrogative.

            “ You Porters are named for famous people, right?  George Washington Porter, Andrew Jackson Porter, Napoleon Bonaparte Porter, your son, Teddy Roosevelt Porter, and your grandfather, Martin Van Buren Porter.  Don’t deny it.”

            Willie wobbled his feet as if standing uncertain ground. He was certain of the year, 1965. “Are you a ghost?”

            “ A ghost?  Here’s what I am.”  Van Buren moved closer.  “You tell frontier stories about your Uncle Nap, right? “

            “From my Grandpa Marty,” Willie nodded.

            “One about the Grand Canyon?”

            Willie flapped his elbows up and down like a pumping bumbershoot.  “Where Uncle Nap rides down on his old mule, Gracie, and hollers, ‘Here we come!’ and hears the echo four days later, coming back up? “

             Presidential muttonchops fluttered.  “That’s me, Porter, an echo.”

            Willie knew that didn’t make sense.  “Echoes repeat what’s already been.  You never rode a train to Mudgap, New Mexico nor talked to me before.”

            “Ah!  Words!” Van Buren shivered his sideburns in the dry mountain air.  “It’s the spirit that echoes, not your paltry creature snatchings.”

            Willie shifted one steel-toed shoe a few inches. 

            “Your Grandpa Marty was named after me.  Right? And you joke about it.  Right?”

            “Well.”

            “You say, ‘Not the best Porter naming because Van Buren was called Martin Van Ruin after the panic of ‘37.’ “

            Willie rose onto his toes and scrunched his shoulders.  “That’s the way Grandpa Marty told it.”

            “Are you sure it was him?”

            Willie shrugged his guilt.  “Maybe it was Grandma Harriet.”

            “I knew it.  An educated woman,” Van Buren accused, expanding with supernatural pliability.  “And did she mention me organizing the Democratic Party to counterweight the slavery question?”

            “LBJ’s party?  Claims to be the most hopeful sign since Christ?”

            “Well, he’s a Texan.  I never wanted them in the Union anyway.  And this New Mexico, Polk’s work.”

            “She said you were against Lincoln.”

            “Did she tell you I formed the Free Soil Party to settle slavery without a war?”

            Willie flared his right elbow out to get perspective on this idea and sidled his feet a little.  “Sounds like someone’s shining up his history.”

            Van Buren’s muttonchops disheveled as he grabbed Porter’s shoulder.  “Porter!  I’m trying to help you!  Truth only matters to the living.  We exanimate can’t escape it.”

            “Well, I…” The moment swerved.

            Willie’s son Teddy rushed onto the platform with the whole family. “Dad!  How was the run from Las Cruces?”  The Salvage Yard’s clamoring tribe blundered behind him, a manifold of peculiarities including Willie’s old boss, Ruel Lownde, plus relatives and workers.

            “Dad, who were you talking to?” Teddy asked.

             “President Van Buren,” Willie asserted.

            “That’s who I thought it was!” cried Ruel’s eccentric cousin.

            Teddy laughed.  “I don’t think we have time for one of your stories today, Dad.”  He led the crowd to the Fourth of July celebrations at Arrieros Park.

            Ruel Lownde whispered to his old friend. “What’d Van Buren want?”

            “Something about truth.”

            “Truth,” Ruel nodded.  “It’s fragile but enduring.”

            Willie sneaked a glance visioning splendid side-whiskers in a sun-glared coach.  Teddy was right. There wasn’t time for one of his stories today.

     As long as I'm in the mood to catch up on things I just got an email from the Bear Hill Players asking me to mention the upcoming, annual production of their operatic adaptation of Lewis Carroll's Hunting of the Snark.  It will be indoors this year, at the Montana Opera House, where else.  Judging by the poster it contains some new twists this year but will be substantially the same as always.

Several people have pointed out to me that our own little team's inspirational icon is headed for the world series this year if they can get past the Giants.  Wouldn't that be a perfect complement to our own two victories this year, albeit at great cost as two of our players were fined for unsportsmanlike conduct.  Anyway, no need to dwell on that.  Good luck to the Cardinals and hooraw for the Miners.  Next year, with our catcher no longer under house arrest, we may do even better. 

And, let's hope Hal can get the election debate stuff restored before election day.

      Uh oh dudes.  Sorry about that.  Just found out no one got posted since updates to the server last spring.  Working on it.  Hot discussion on the election.  Got most of it recovered.  Be getting it up to date soon.  Patience!!  We'll get the wheels back on :(-)

Shell House

Just a quick note under news of the odd.  Came across this posting of a shell house.
Can anyone tell me where it's located?Shell House.

Mudgap 2011 Outlook and 2011 Recap

Hello Mudgap aficionados, those resident and those afield. My nephew, Hal, asked me to post something about community affairs and I've been intending to but things get kind of strained for me at this time of year. It's a little late but maybe you'll enjoy getting some news even if not as timely as I'd have liked.
The Solomon Line administrators, operators of our old steam train excursion ride from Las Cruces, tell me they did better than expected last year but on average carried about ten fewer visitors per day than the previous year. I think that was reflected in the overall tourist industry this year even though our usual special events were well attended.
In March we had the 93rd production of Mudgap's winter carnival, held annually since 1895 except for the depression years and the two world wars. Popular activities this year included ice skating, curling, snowmobiling and other winter sports and a presentation of King Lear on the Historical Society’s outdoor stage. There was the one incident with the snowmobile going over Rooster's Bluff and I won't say anything more about that since legal proceedings are pending.

Our 2010 Fourth of July bash was more spectacular than ever despite the economic down turn. This years street vendors, family games and fireworks were augmented by the traditional Shakespeare bash at the Opera House. We were fortunate indeed to have a traveling thespian group from NMSU visit and participate.

Also in July the fifteenth gathering of the Sierra Fangosos Southwestern Writers’ Roundup, for authors and book lovers featuring open-air readings, lectures, seminars and confabulation was a great success despite diminished participation. The apparent outbreak of a street fight during the first day and other reports of vandalism were way over reported by the media, I've been told. Still, it can't be denied a certain "element" has taken root in our little mountain town and we shouldn't ignore it.

In August the Bear Hill Players staged their ninth annual production of Emerson Stockton Bardwell’s, The American Pilgrim at the Estatua Opera House. If you were lucky enough to get tickets you were able to enjoy this iconic play as interpreted by our local dramatists. This years performance was graced, unexpectedly by a presentation of the Bardwell Award, made by the Emerson Stockton Bardwell Association for "inspired devotion to the author's principles and vision". Numerous playgoers rode the Solomon Line Excursion steam train into the mountains for an evening of fun and fine theater.

This years production by the Bear Hill Players of one of their most popular and long-lived productions, the dramatization of Lewis Carroll’s "The Hunting of the Snark" was fun but, all in all, a disappointment. This classic favorite was enhanced in the previous year with musical numbers that elevated the production to new heights. Unfortunately, the decision this year to experiment with a punk-rock interpretation, coupled with the sudden ice storm, dampened some of the usual artistic interest. The closing night raid by the ATF, while understandable and to some extent appreciated by the local populace, was nonetheless a low note.

In the coming year Mudgap will be doing its usual fare, with some new wrinkles, and an entirely new event will be added as well.

The Winter Carnival will kick off the tourist season for real on March 6 through 13. This 94th rendition of our oldest and most revered tradition will have the usual activities, ice skating, curling, snowmobiling and other winter sports and a presentation of King Lear on the Historical Society’s outdoor stage, but this year there will be a curling challenge. The local team, The Mudgap Whiskers, has tossed down the gauntlet to all comers and expect entrants from as far away as Irondequoit New York. I understand a fence will restrict snowmobile traffic from approaching Rooster's Bluff.

July Fourth will again be the bellwether tourist event for Mudgap. In addition to the usual street vendors, family games and a repeat of the traditional Shakespeare bash at the Opera House, this year will be marked by the return of a long lost tradition with the fireworks. The Lownde family has resurrected the famous Mudgap fireworks machine from the seventies and will be supervising its use for the grand finale fireworks display near Arieros Park.

Our own Bear Hill Players will be staging their tenth rendition of Emerson Stockton Bardwell's famous, The American Pilgrim, at the Estatua Opera House From August 12 to 13. This legitimate claim to serious theatre, made more legitimate last year by receipt of the prestigious Bardwell Award, will again mark the cultural high point of Mudgap Society. If you haven't already secured tickets better not delay.

The annual production by Mudgap's Bear Hill Players of its on dramatization of Lewis Carroll's, "The Hunting of the Snark" will be presented again on October 14 through 17. I am told the production will again feature musical numbers but the score will be more traditional this year, more in the Rodgers and Hammerstein tradition.

Well, I think that's it for now. I hope to do a posting soon on new activities at the Mudgap Historical Society. This time of year is difficult for me but I should be able to bang something out soon.