This prophecy is certainly coming to pass in these the last days. We have seen many examples of people coming to Mexico and the different colonies to see where their parents or grandparents or great grandparents lived. Some come to find their graves others to see where they lived and still others to see the places they heard talked about or see the places mentioned in journals and histories. Many were members of the church seeking out their Ancestors histories others were not. The spirit of Elijah has touch the hearts of people everywhere.
About 15 years ago I received a phone call from a man in El Paso asking me if I would take him to find the remains of a plane that had crashed in the mountains during World War II. He said that his father had been the pilot of that plane and he wanted to come down and find the place where it crashed and talk to the people who found the plane if that was possible. I told him that I would be glad to take him and that I would get permission from the Rancher who owned the Ranch where the plane crashed.
I went and talked to Isidro Payan and he said that he had seen the pieces of the plane many times and that he had heard the story of it's crash. He told me to go to the ranch and get horses to ride to the site and that one of the cowboys would take us and show us the remains of the plane .
The young man came down and came to our home to set up our trip. As we visited he explained that he was not a member of out church but that he had friends in El Paso that were members of the church and someone had given him my Name and phone number and said that I would be willing to take him to the site. He also said that he was very anxious to see if he could clear up in his mind the circumstances of his father's death. He said that the armed forces had cast a shadow of doubt over his father's name because he had been coming down with the pay roll of the mine and the money had never been found.
He then told the following story: During the war the armed forces of the United States were seeking a place to get a supply of natural crystals that they used in the Bomb Sights of their planes. Some how they got word of a big cave down on the Rio Aros that contained big amounts of the big crystals like they needed. They sent some experts down to investigate and found a huge amount of the best crystals that they had ever encountered. They sent down a crew to begin mining the crystals but found that the cave had been flooded from the river. They began the work of pumping out the water and preparing to mine the crystals. The young man said that his father was the pilot of the plane that they were sending down regularly with provisions and money to pay for the mining operation.
On one of these trips his father did not come back and they sent search planes to find him but could not find him or the plane. They concluded that he had crashed in the mountains and sent men to inquire and find the plane and investigate what had happened. They found the plane where it had crashed and the pilot was found dead still sitting in the closed cabin of the plane. They put his body in a body bag with his personal belongings that were in the plane and brought it down to the Train and shipped it on a flat car with a guard to El Paso. The men claimed that they had found no money or provisions of any kind.
The next morning we went up mountain to the Terrazeño Ranch. I guess the name Terrazeño came from the fact that Don Luis Terrazas used to own all of this country. When we arrived Isidro's cousin saddled up some horses for us and we rode up along the high ridge and down to the site of the plane crash. We had a hard time finding the scattered pieces of the Airplane. We finally found enough pieces to help us to find the spot of the crash. Apparently the Yong Man's father had flown over the high ridge into the river valley and had come back was not able to make it over the high ridge and had crashed just under little saddle on the high Terrazeño ridge. Apparently he had been killed instantly for he was still sitting at the controls of the plane when he was found. It looked like he had misjudged the high ridge and the young man commented that there must have been a cloud obscuring the height of the mountain.
The next day after returning from our trip I took him to see and Talk to Don Timoteo Guillén. We asked Don Timo about the plane that had crashed on the Terrazeño. He was eager to talk and told us that he had been the Comisariado Ejidal at the time and that they went to him as the Authority to go with them to find the plane and recover the body. He said that when they had arrived at the place of the crash that the pilot was sitting in the plane with the doors tightly closed. He said they had trouble opening the doors to get the body out. He authorized them to go ahead and move the body as he was the authority to give that permission. He said that he could still remember the stench as they opened the doors of the cabin of the Airplane.
He said that he had gone with them to Casas grandes and had written up the Acta and the permission to move the body. He said they had put the body in a heavy canvas bag and had placed it on a flat car on the train and had taken it to El Paso.
We asked him if he knew why the plane had crashed. He told us that he had been outside that sunny morning when the plane had flown over Strawberry where he lived. He said the plane was flying quite low but the engine was running very well.
We asked him if there might have been a fog on the high ridge he said that he didn't think so because it was a bright sunny day. He said that he could find no reason in his mind that would cause the plane to crash. He thought that maybe the pilot had fallen asleep or fainted of something that would cause him to crash.
We thanked him and explained that the young man who I was translating for was the son of the Pilot of the plane. He very solemnly shook hands with the young man and said he was glad to meet him and that he was sorry about his father's death.
We then asked him if they had found any money or provisions in the plane. He said very definitely that they had not found anything but a little bag that belonged to the pilot. We then asked Don Timo if he thought the plane was returning from the Aros or just going. He answered that he could not explain why the plane, when it passed over his home, was flying east and not North or South.
While we were returning from talking with Don Timo he thanked me for helping him settle in his own mind that his father was not guilty of any wrong doing and that now he could understand why he had crashed after seeing the high rugged place where the Airplane had crashed. He said he could now console his mother and put her at peace concerning his father's death.
Among the many groups that came down were some that had interesting histories that we had heard about and had heard different versions all our lives. For example the Joe James story, the Thompson family Massacre, the Stevens family story. Many others came such as the Rowleys, the Hursts, the Hardys and the Farnsworths to name a few.
When the granddaughters of Joe James came they had a rather complete history of him written by their mother. Naoma and I loaded up the van and took them up to seek out the places mentioned in the history. As we came to the spring I pointed out that here was where Joe James had the saw mill. They got out the history and read about when he was killed at that site.
That morning as he left the house to go check the log chute his little boy wanted to go with him but he told him to stay home today that it was too dangerous. As he walked along by the chute the boys were up on top of the mountain sending down logs. The logs came smoking down the chute that Joe James had built. The logs would splash into the pond that they had made to receive the logs from the chute and to prepare them for sawing in the mill. This chute made available all of the timber on the top of the high mountain country. The history explained that as Father was walking along the steep trail by the chute one of the logs jumped out of the chute and killed him. Word was immediately sent to Hop Valley of Father's death and the family came down to prepare the body and attend the funeral.
As we climbed higher just where the cut off joins the old original grade I showed them where the log chute had come down from the top of the mountain. Years ago we could see plainly where the clearing had been made where the chute came down. We were always told that the cleared strip up the steep mountain was where the Joe James chute had been built.
After going to the caves in Cave Valley we stopped to talk to Don Miguel Lopez. We told him that these people were grandchildren of the man that had built the log chute down the mountain. He said that his father had told him the story and that his father's brother in law was killed along with him. He said that he remembers the houses that Don Diego built in Hop Valley and that the grandson of the man that was killed with him was still living in the two story house in Hop Valley that Don Diego had built. Don Diego is what they called Joe James in Spanish. He Also said that in those days they had Telephones in all of the Colonies and that Don Diego had a phone at the saw mill and they had called to Hop Valley to tell of the death of the two men. He also said that Don Diego was much loved by all of the people in the mountains. He said that the house that Don Diego built was the only two story house in Hop Valley and that it had blue doors and windows.
In Hop Valley the ladies got out their history and told us that Father James had built three houses for his three wives. Two rivers join in Hop Valley and that he had built one house on the North side of the rivers, one in between the two rivers and one on the south side of the two rivers. That way when the rivers were flooding he could have a home to come to no matter from which direction he came. He had very good gardens and farms in Hop Valley and he and the boys supplied the families with most of their food from those farms and gardens.
I began to tell them some of the stories that I grew up with about Joe James and his sense of humor and practical jokes. They lived in Hop Valley but they all attended church in Pacheco. Every fast and Testimony meeting Brother James would get up and bear his Testimony about how wonderful Hop Valley was. He would say, "Brothers and Sisters the Lord has really blessed us in Hop Valley. Things grow so fast that when we plant Squash and Water melon seeds they come up so fast that they flip the dirt right up into your eyes and the vines grow so fast that we have to shoe the little squashes so the vines don't drag them to death".
During the dry season he would get up in Church and say. " Brothers and Sisters we have surely solved the problem of watering our gardens in Hop Valley. We plant a row of Potatoes then a row of Onions. The onions get in the eyes of the Potatoes and they cry and water the whole garden.
By this time the people were beginning to complain to the Bishop about Brother James coming over and telling these big lies in church. Sure enough next Fast and Testimony meeting Brother James got up and bore a solemn Testimony of the Lord's goodness to their family. Brothers and Sisters the Lord has surely favored us in Hop Valley. "We have stocks of corn over there with as many as thirteen ears on them". A gasp went up from audience. This was the biggest lie yet. After the meeting some of the Brethren went to the Bishop and demanded that the Bishop do something about Brother James and his lies in the house of the Lord. The Bishop went out to find Brother James and found him waiting for them. When confronted Brother James countered with, "they are not lies you can come and see for yourselves". They all got on their horses and went over to Brother James home to prove that he had been telling lies in church. Out behind the house in brother James' garden, there for all to see were several stocks of corn with thirteen ears tied in them.
Ken Rowley had been with us on pack trip into the Sierra Madre so he wanted to take his brothers on a family trip. He called me and arranged to come down and bring his three brothers and their boys. He wanted to go by Pacheco and show his family where both of their grandfathers had lived and were buried. When they came they were a big bunch of them. I don't remember the exact number but they came in two four wheel drive pickups prepared to go into the Sierra Madre mountains.
We loaded the saddles and Pack outfits and camp equipment and provisions into their trucks. Some of the people came to ride with us in the Volkswagen Van. We left early Monday morning and traveled to Pacheco via Cave Valley. When we got to the graveyard we all piled out and went to find Grandpa Rowley's grave and Grandpa Haws' grave.
Grandpa Rowley's monument was easily found for it was very distinctive. They had good stone masons in those days and some one had carved a trunk of a tree out of a stone that stood about six feet high. On this replica of a tree was carved the inscription of Grandpa Rowley's name, date of birth and place plus his death date. That distinctive monument is still there in the Pacheco graveyard and is one of the very few left there.
Grandpa Haws' grave stone was more conventional but we found it down in the north corner of the graveyard.
As we entered the town of Pacheco Ken came to me and wanted me to find the house where grandmother Haws lived. He said that as they left during the revolution grandma Haws had carefully buried her beautiful china dishes in the backyard of their home. Ken said that he had a steel search rod that he could use to find the exact spot if he knew the backyard in which to look. I explained to him that I did not know where grandma Haws had lived and that I didn't know of anyone that did know since it was so very long ago. I also explained that after the people left that the Mexicans came in raided all of the houses and surely they would see the fresh earth where something was buried.
We went on up to Chuhuichupa and on out to the Toro ranch where our horses and pack mules were waiting. We camped down on the Chuhuichupa River below the Toro where the river gorge widens and forms a beautiful park like area. The river runs around this area and makes it a beautiful place to camp. As soon as we set up camp ken asked me if I knew of any Indian ruins around. I turned and walked about twenty paces from camp and showed him the mound of a big ruin about 200 feet in diameter. He took his steel rod and began to sink it down into the ground in different places around the ruin. He declared that he could tell with his rod exactly where there were Burial Sites and where he could find the ollas that had been buried with the people.
I got busy cooking supper for the bunch and getting all of the tents and beds set up for the night. Yagui, my cowboy, had taken the animals down river and hobbled them out he had put bells on the mare and some of the horses so we could find them in the early morning.
The next morning after breakfast we saddled up the horses and mules and got everyone mounted ready to take them on a ride up to see some ancient Cave Dwellings. Ken was over in the Indian Dwelling digging with my shovel and a pick that he had brought with him. He was already waist deep in his hole and would not go with us.
Before mounting up I noticed a little boy wandering around close behind the horses and mules. I took him aside and told him carefully that he should not go behind the animals because they might kick him. We mounted up and traveled up the Toro Canyon. Two of the Rowley brothers began to run their horses up and back. I finally told them that their horses would not last at that pace and to save them for the long ride we had ahead of us. They seemed disappointed but fell in with the rest of our bunch. Soon the trail became very steep as we climbed high up under the cliffs at the top of the high mesa. We went through a narrow pass between the huge rock cliffs of the saddle and there before us was the big cave filled with rooms and dwellings. The afternoon as we got back to camp we could see a big mound of dirt with more shovel fulls coming out to add to the pile. Ken was still digging He was now so deep that we had to go help him get out for supper. He was very dejected since he not found anything not even broken pieces of pottery. I fixed a big stir fry for supper and everyone was hungry so it didn't last long.
The next morning after a big breakfast of Hot Cakes, Scrambled eggs and herb tea we got every one mounted on saddled mount and rode off to find a big dwelling that Yagui knew about. Ken was eager to dig some more and find a pot. We found this enormous ruin on a mesa overlooking the river. While the Rowley Brothers were busy digging Yagui and I sat in the shade of a big Oak Tree waiting for them to get tired of digging. We heard a sound and looked around and saw the little boy lying on the ground behind the little mule Cantador. We rushed over and found that he was finally getting his breath back and was coming around. He had been wandering around behind the horses and had come to close too Cantador's heels. Cantador had kicked him in the his middle and knock the breath out of him. Luckily he was not seriously hurt. I did not have the heart to say anything to him. I figured he had learned the hard way. They never did find anything in all of their digging so they gave it up.
The next day they all just wanted to ride the horses around the river close to camp so they could gallop up and back. That evening one of the brothers came into camp with a big Metate that he had carried on the saddle horn and the pommel of the saddle from way down river where he had found it. That poor saddle was scratched and worn so bad in places that I would have to replace the leather on the pommel to repair it. He asked his brothers to come and lift the Metate down and it took two of them to lift it down. They asked him how he had gotten it on the horse. He said that he had lifted it into the saddle and then got on behind the saddle and then held it on the horn while he got into the seat of the saddle. He was the tallest and strongest of the brothers so I could see that he would be able to do that. His hands were worn almost raw from handling the rough rock of the Metate. I didn't dare say anything about the ruined saddle. I didn't want to spoil his happiness of his find and accomplishment of bringing it back with him.
We arrived home in Dublan late Saturday afternoon. The Rowleys insisted on continuing on to Phoenix that night. The said, "the boys can sleep on the way home and we can be home for Sunday". They thanked me profusely for the wonderful trip they had enjoyed with their family and were on their way. . Some Stevens ladies came down and we took them up to the little town of Stevens to see where their grandparents had lived and where their mother had told them so much about. We left very early so when we got to Cave Valley we fixed breakfast after we had been up to explore the big Olla Cave. The cave valley creek is a pretty place to camp and eat and the water is good and clear from a spring up the canyon. After breakfast we went on to Stevens. There the ladies exclaimed that it was just as their mother had described it to them and they said, "and there is the creek where mother and her sister were picking blackberries".
They told us their version of the Stevens story. They said Grandfather Stevens decided that they would not leave when all of the rest of the people of the Colonies left in the Exodus of 1912. He thought that if he treated the people that came well and fed them that they would be all right. One morning when the girls were down by the creek picking Blackberries the father looked out and saw two men watching the girls from back in the timber a little ways. He took his gun and went to investigate. When the mother and the oldest son heard a shot they ran down and across the creek to find the Father lying in his blood still bleeding profusely from a jagged stab wound near him was a dead Mexican man who had been shot with the father's shot gun. They carried the father to the house but he soon bled to death. The whole family were filled with grief and fear but they managed to bury the father and prepare to leave. They took their dishes and kitchen utensils and a pistol and a rifle and with a few other things put them in a little cave down on the river and sealed up the cave with mud. They expected to come back but they never did, until now these ladies came to see where their mother had lived and had experienced that terrible tragedy. I guess no one will ever know exactly what happened but apparently when Brother Stevens approached the two men they attacked him. He apparently shot one of them and killed him but was stabbed by the other one who fled after his victim fell to the ground.
I told the ladies about what Trinidad Artalejo's wife told me. She said that when she was a little girl living in Stevens that she was present when they found the cave that the Stevens had sealed up with mud.
She said that a boy from the little village had gone hunting along the river with an old 22 rifle. When he didn't come back the mother got the whole town to help her look for him. They searched all along the river and finally found him dead. He apparently had stopped and put his gun down butt first on a rock. It had fired and the bullet went in under his chin and into his brain killing him instantly. While they were looking for the little boy some one had found the walled up little cave and they all gathered around to open it up. She said that they had found dishes and kitchen utensils and an old pistol and an old rifle among other things.
Once when Cuauhtemoc Lopez and I were riding down the river he showed me the little cave where the Stevens family had hid there things and had been found by the people who lived in Stevens. I showed that cave to many of the Girls when we were riding down the river from Pacheco to Cave Valley on one of the Girl's Camps.
We returned home that same day through Pacheco. I showed them the places of interest along the way and they were very happy to have come to be on the site where their mother had lived when she was a girl.
I will not go on and relate other stories because this is getting too long. However we took many groups of people to the mountains to find the places where their ancestors had lived. Naoma and I have really enjoyed going with these people and helping them satisfy their hunger to know about the places where there roots were.