SUNDAY MEMORIES
Judy Wills
As a child growing up in New Mexico, it seems I had always known about “Shiprock” New Mexico. It wasn’t until many years later, that I knew what or where Shiprock was, or the Indian lore about it. It is a majestic piece of rock—possibly volcanic but probably sandstone—that is just out in the middle of nowhere. It just sprouts up by itself. It is absolutely magnificent, and for some reason, holds a special place in my heart.
Brian had not thought that we would have time to cross into New Mexico, but then proclaimed that it was a “pilgrimage” for me, so we went to see it. I’ve had a framed calendar photo of it on our wall for many years, but Karen and Brian had never seen it in real life. They were AMAZED.
As we were leaving Shiprock, I made the statement that “it’s dirty, it’s dusty, it’s scrubby—and I love it! This is home!” Of course, I hadn’t lived in New Mexico for more than 50 years, but it still felt like “home” to me. Funny how our minds work.
From Shiprock, New Mexico, we crossed into Arizona, heading to Monument Valley Navajo Tribal Park that is in both Arizona and Utah—Navajo Nation land. Absolutely AMAZING!!
This picture is of the two formations called “Mittens” – and you can see why. They look like right and left handed mittens.
And here is Brian, trying to hold up The Cube. Those are enormous rocks! It reminded me of a “saying” that my dad had, i.e. “I sure wouldn’t want that pebble in my shoe!” I asked Karen if I had told her about that “saying” of her grandfather’s, and she said “no.” So she got another touch from the grandfather she had never known. I keep wanting to pass along those things to our girls and their children – so they will know him, as well.
The roads in Monument Valley are just dirt—and, as you can see by the car—it just covers everything!
We stopped by the side of the road there and had a picnic lunch right at the car. The wind was blowing in such a way that the dust made by any cars passing by would blow the other way from us, so we weren’t eating dirt!
At many of the stops along the way, there were Native American women selling hand-made jewelry. I bought a neat beaded necklace with a silver Kokopelli at the center. He’s my favorite Indian character—the flute player.
After we had packed up from lunch, we headed to Grand Canyon National Park. I don’t remember how long it had been since Fred was there, but I think I was about 8-years-old the last time I visited the Canyon! It hasn’t lost its appeal at all for me! Absolutely breathtaking!!
There are so many pictures we took of the Grand Canyon, that I just can’t show them all. But here are a few of our favorite sights.
These were taken at sunset. Absolutely gorgeous!!
On the side of one of the buildings up top, this sign was posted. Marvelous!
~~~~~~~To Be Continued~~~~~~~
on a 2-lane road out in the middle of nowhere. I had not studied the map too closely, but thought I remembered that all I had to do was to stay on U.S. 84 (4-lane road) until I picked up I-40 at Santa Rosa, NM. In reality, U.S. 60 had split off from U.S. 84 at Fort. Sumner, NM and I didn’t realize I had missed the turn. I had traveled several miles without seeing a road sign of any kind, and began to worry about my being stranded on this lonely road that looked like it never ended.
childhood friend, Leon, who still lives in the same house he did when we were growing up together in the mid-1940s. We had a great time recalling our younger days and he introduced me to his cat, Rusty, and gave me a tour of his model circus railroad project. Later he went with me to the National Nuclear Museum and the Ernie Pyle Library. We experienced one of New Mexico’s dust storms late that afternoon, and I remembered how the wind could almost knock you over, and the wind driven sand could blast the paint off the front of your car and pit your windshield, if you were foolish enough to drive into one of those storms. And, there was no way you could get your house windows closed tight enough to keep that fine sand from filtering into the house, and getting all over things.
motels I used to throw papers to were still in business, and the Highland Theater where DiVoran worked selling tickets was still there. Leon told me he was a ticket taker and usher at the Highland Theater about the same time that DiVoran was working there, but he didn’t remember ever meeting her there. The Ice Arena had been turned into part of a shopping center, and Highland High School, where DiVoran and I met, all those many years ago, was now three times as big as it was when we attended. Further down Central, our football rivals, Albuquerque High School had been closed and converted into condos (of all things), while the First Baptist Church, which my folks and I attended all the years we lived there, had moved and their buildings were now empty and up for sale. What a shock that was!
Old Things R New 