Post Office, Farmington, New Mexico
Today is my birthday. I’m twenty-five years old.
As I mentioned in a previous post, I was born in Farmington, New Mexico. I wouldn’t say I’m “from” Farmington, though. When I was at Chaco people would often ask where I was from, and I never knew quite how to answer. Sometimes I would say “here!” and they would respond “No one’s from here!” Well, the Navajos are, but yeah, fair enough. I’m not really from Chaco.
San Juan Regional Medical Center, Farmington, New Mexico
Where am I from, though? As I say, I was born in Farmington, at San Juan Regional Medical Center, but I never actually lived in Farmington. In the rural southwest it’s very common for people to travel long distances to give birth, because hospitals are scarce, good hospitals are even scarcer, and families are often spread widely across the region.
113 North Wall Street, Farmington, New Mexico
I do have a lot of connections to Farmington, even though I wouldn’t say I’m from there. My dad’s family has lived in the Farmington area since the 1880s, and I still have some cousins who live there. My great-grandfather was born in Farmington in 1886, and both of my paternal grandparents were born there as well. Farmington is certainly an important place in my heritage, despite my rather ambivalent attitude toward it.
Masonic Symbol at Animas Lodge #15, Farmington, New Mexico
When I was born my parents actually lived in Arizona, where they ran a trading post on the Navajo Reservation. My dad’s family has been involved in Indian trading for 100 years now (a couple of my great-grandmother’s brothers built the family’s first trading post in 1909 ), and my grandmother and her sisters grew up at a trading post north of Chaco that my great-grandparents built in 1918. My grandmother ended up inheriting that store, where my dad grew up, while her sisters went on to own their own stores elsewhere in New Mexico, Arizona, and Utah.
Tibbetts Middle School, Farmington, New Mexico
When it came time for my dad to go to school, his parents bought a house in Farmington, where he and his mother stayed during the week while he went to school. On weekends they went back out to the store. This was a common pattern for trading families.
Farmington Fire Department Station One, Farmington, New Mexico
When my dad grew up he ended up going out to manage a store his parents owned in Arizona, where he met my mom (who came out there for reasons of her own, but that’s another story). They were still living there when I was born, and since my grandparents were still at their store near Farmington my mom decided to see an OB-GYN in Farmington when she was pregnant with me. Thus, I was born in Farmington. The first place I went from there, after a few days in the hospital, was not west to the store where my parents lived but southeast to the store where my grandparents lived. Later we went home.
Greenlawn Cemetery, Farmington, New Mexico
About a year after I was born my grandmother died in a tragic car accident, along with one of her sisters, and the whole structure of my dad’s family began to deteriorate. My grandfather lived for another couple of years, but he was a broken man. When my sister was born he was still alive, but my mom chose to have her in Flagstaff, which was closer. At the same time the trading business was falling apart too, a casualty of the major changes sweeping the Navajo country with increasing acculturation and incorporation into the mainstream of the US economy. By the time I was six my parents had decided to give up on trading and move to town. My mom got a teaching certification, and my dad applied for a PhD program in history at the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque. He got in, so that’s where we moved.
University of New Mexico Entrance Sign
I grew up mostly in Albuquerque. That’s what I would usually tell visitors at Chaco when they asked where I was from, though I would usually also say I was born in Farmington. I don’t know if I would really say I’m from Albuquerque. It’s certainly the place I have spent the most time at this point, and it’s the city I’m most familiar with, but I never felt fully comfortable there, and I left as soon as I could and went to college back east. I think I’ve made my peace with it at this point, but it’s not a place I really have any desire to live again.
UNM Alumni Memorial Chapel, Albuquerque, New Mexico
My dad died two years and two days ago. Colon cancer. He was sixty years old. Last year, on the first anniversary of his death, I met my mom and my sister, who both live in Albuquerque, in Jemez Springs and we went hiking in the mountains. It was a nice, peaceful time for remembrance and togetherness. This year, on the second anniversary, my mom and my sister hiked the same trail we hiked last year. I couldn’t come, obviously, being away at school as I am, but I like the tradition that we seem to be developing, and whenever I’m in the area in the future I’ll participate in it.
Zimmerman Library at UNM, Albuquerque, New Mexico
We sold the store where we lived when I was young years ago, but we still own the store where my dad grew up. It’s off the reservation, on private land that we own, so we can do what we like with it. We don’t play any part in the management of it; we have a retired ranching couple run it for us and keep the buildings in shape. But we still have it, and it remains a tangible symbol of a lifestyle and tradition that has very nearly vanished now. I rarely mentioned it to visitors at Chaco, although I did do some presentations on trading posts in which I talked about it. I did go up there a couple of times. The emotions it evoked in me were complicated.
Signs at Hilltop Junction on US 550 between Chaco and Farmington
So where am I from? Hard to say. I don’t have a simple answer, and I don’t usually want to tell my whole life story when someone asks. Here it is, though, in abbreviated form, in this post, so if anyone is curious they can take a look and judge for themselves.
"See You Soon" Sign, Farmington, New Mexico
Good post — happy birthday!
My childhood was somewhat simpler than yours, FWIW. I’m “from” Albuquerque — and I’m not shy about telling people I think it’s a good place to be FROM. I still enjoy visiting the old stomping grounds from time to time, but am much happier in Colorado.
Cheers…
Argos
Happy birthday, Teofilo — but YOU have given US the gift here. What a terrific post . . .
I’ll try not to get too analytical, but it struck me that your own movements might have mirrored, in a way, the movements of those vanished peoples about whom you so elegantly write about on this excellent blog. And that whole “where am I from?” question resonates for a lot of us, I suspect.
I was born in Berkeley and raised in the LA ‘burbs — but can I say those places are where I’m “from”? Physically, yeah I suppose so. But culturally or spiritually? I don’t think so.
I’m from the sum of the places I’ve lived over the years. I think you are, too. I think all of us are.
I also was struck by your use of that familiar phrase “back East” when you talked about going there for college. Does that mean your family had recent connections/roots “back” East and then came “out West”? Or are you just employing that old figure of speech that so many people use?
Some years ago (I’m twice your age and a little more besides), I thought that one over — and I resolved to turn the “back” and “out” in the other direction . . . as in:
I lived “out East” for a time but eventually moved “back West.”
After all, my parents were born in the West (California) and three of my four grandparents were natives of the West (Texas, Nebraska and California; the fourth emigrated from Ireland around 1900). But at what point is the reference “back” and when is it “out”?
Anyway, that’s my “walk,” and I’m happy to have learned about yours, Mr. Chaco. You continue to inform and entertain, wherever you’re from. So thank you . . .
Argos: Thanks, both for the birthday wishes and for the great photos at your link. Did you go to high school in ABQ? If so, which?
pato’: Glad to see someone noticed the “back east” bit. Note that this post is just about my dad’s family; my mom was born and raised in Philadelphia, and most of her family still lives in that area, so the whole time I was growing up we would go “back east” every summer to see family there.
You’re welcome, teofilo. Yes, I went to high school in ABQ — to the Academy, back when it was still semi-affordable.
BTW, I’m in the process of filling out a set of Chaco pictures on Flickr. They’re cleaned up scans of slides I took on a trip in the 1980′s. I don’t know if they’re of any academic interest, maybe to see how restoration work has held up over the decades?
I went to Albuquerque High.
I saw your post about cleaning up the Pueblo del Arroyo slide. Thanks for the Flickr link. The buildings look about the same (there hasn’t been any major work done since then), but what interests me is the interpretive signs at Pueblo del Arroyo and Casa Chiquita. The Pueblo Bonito one doesn’t show the sign, just the National Geographic plaque, which is still there. The other two, though, show the old-fashioned little signs with small lettering, quite different from the big, highly visible signs there now.
A Belated Happy Birthday!
I stumbled upon your blog a month ago, and enjoy your enthusiasm. Keep it up!
A young lady who’s name begins with the letter ‘A’, and works at Chaco has some very complimentary things to say about you. Don’t ask why,…just enjoy.
As far as slouching, don’t we all?
Thanks! I know that young lady well, of course.
i go to tibbetts and i hate it sometimes lol
I go to tibbetts, my name is Destiny S and I friggin hate Tibbetts! Our principle is um, lets say….weird?
I go to tibbetts and i think its haunted….scary place but i love it!
oh i just found out it was some kids scaring me so no worries!
Great posting(s). My mother was born in Farmington and we would often visit there when I was a youngster (am now 69). The description of your family trading posts brought back memories of my great aunt & uncle who had one for years at Montezuma Creek, then one in southern CO. One of mom’s cousins also had a trading post near Gallup. My great-grandfather was William Locke.who,among other accomplishments,brought the first fruit trees to Farmington. Locke Street is downtown.
Thanks!