Mounted on his horse, Siete Leguas, named for the seven leagues (21 miles) the steed could gallop without a rest, Francisco (Pancho) Villa and his men terrorized both sides of the border as they fired their rifles at anyone who stood in their path.
The year was 1910, and the place was Agua Prieta (...
The manager of the Monticello sewer plant, located just off the second tee box at the old San Juan Golf Course, looked down, jumped back, and felt his heart race.
He blinked, blinked again, then refocused for another look.
No, he wasn’t going crazy; there was indeed a large, beautiful brown human...
by Rob Adams
Contributing writer
On August 17, 1875, it had been three days since any of the 13 men of the Hayden Survey Party assigned to map southeast Utah had felt the trickle of clear water over their parched tongues.
The only thing they’d had to drink was so alkaline or muddy that they could...
The camp must have resembled a hastily thrown-together ranch rodeo just outside of Denver.
A choking dust cloud, complete with the sweet and fruity aroma of horse manure, hung over a remuda of 90 mules with one or two horses added, to give the wild bunch a level of sophistication it didn’t deserve...
(This is the last of a three-part story. The first two are in the October 1 and 15 issues of the San Juan Record.)
Bill Gibson, the crew’s official photographer, screamed, “There goes the Mexican Hat!” They all froze in their tracks, just in time to see the empty boat gracefully navigate the first...
Predictions of calamity, misfortune, and death were the order of the day on the morning of June 20, 1938.
Green River, Utah, population 500, was abuzz with activity due to a recent article in the Saturday Evening Post mentioning the sleepy whistle-stop town.
A mob of over 100 national, regional,...
Though he died five years before I was born, I remember hearing about Norman Nevills since I was a child. I heard him called The Great San Juan Adventurer. He was a river runner, a backcountry guide, a pilot, and passionate about his newfound home. Nevills was born in California in 1908, with an...
7:42 am 25 July 1970
It’s been more than 55 years since I attended a masonic funeral.
The service was simple, appropriate, and lasted less than half an hour. I don’t remember many details, only the simple urn bearing the remains of the man whose life we were honoring, but etched indelibly on the...
Everyone deserves to be remembered. Some people are unforgettable for their well-known good deeds, others for evil.
But for the humble, the quiet, or alone, unless they write their own story, their narratives are left to those who knew and loved them, be they family or friend. Most at risk of being...
Like a starving man craving prime rib, I have been dreaming of the good old days, when there was enough rain to make getting stuck in the mud at least a seasonal, if not a daily possibility; with the weather we’ve had, there’s no chance at all.
There is nothing quite like being responsible for...