1984—Tucson, AZ
Introduction---April 1, 2018
Below you will find my remembrances on my first adult travel trip. Unfortunately, I am putting this down on paper over 33 years after the event happened. While it was a great adventure for the time, laid a foundation for future travel, and made an impression on me, time has stripped my memory of many of the finer details, and a few more important ones.
For instance, I do not remember exactly when we went or how long we stayed. At least not for sure. I am certain it was in December of 1984 and I am certain we were there for at least two days and nights. Which weekend, and I am only mildly certain it was a standard weekend, in December is currently just guess work. I remember clearly that there was only two beds, and one of us slept on the floor each night. I am also pretty sure we ran out of nights before everyone slept on the floor. I remember getting a bed each night.
Supplementing my memory is modern research, which will add context to my narrative and to help me place events in the correct order. I know what we did, but the exact order and even which day is not clear. But, when it gets down to it, those really are kind of trivial.
With that said, away we go with my first, adult, travel adventure.
For instance, I do not remember exactly when we went or how long we stayed. At least not for sure. I am certain it was in December of 1984 and I am certain we were there for at least two days and nights. Which weekend, and I am only mildly certain it was a standard weekend, in December is currently just guess work. I remember clearly that there was only two beds, and one of us slept on the floor each night. I am also pretty sure we ran out of nights before everyone slept on the floor. I remember getting a bed each night.
Supplementing my memory is modern research, which will add context to my narrative and to help me place events in the correct order. I know what we did, but the exact order and even which day is not clear. But, when it gets down to it, those really are kind of trivial.
With that said, away we go with my first, adult, travel adventure.
Preamble---Summer/Fall of 1984
My two best friends in the world are Dave Wolf and Dennis Labor. Dennis and I worked together at a couple of different jobs. Our current (Summer 1984) one was a US Auto Parts on 3rd and Bridge, in Brighton. We were both countermen, helping customers get the right parts for their cars and trucks. We both loved cars, him more than I, but I did like that job.
It made me feel like an expert in a field. People from all over the city would come in asking for help and advice. Make no mistake, I had above average knowledge in cars of the day. Dennis had much more hands on knowledge, but I did all of my own work and helped friends as well. So, when someone came in asked about an overheating problem, I could help them diagnosis the issue by asking about their thermostat, changes they had made to the engine compartment, leaks, smells, and how their temp gauge responded. I knew what I was doing.
On top of that I worked with a pretty good bunch of guys. Dennis, who I had known for 8 years, since I was 13 years old, was my oldest and closest friend. Jim Stanton, a 40 something career salesman, whose home town was Baltimore. He never tired of telling us about the Orioles and Colts. It made him mad as hell when the Colts moved to Indianapolis. The owners; Fred and Vi Russo, they owned US Auto Parts from 1977 to 1987. Our, Dennis, Jim and I’s, immediate supervisor was Mark Russo, son of the owners. He was a hard one to pigeon-hole. It was clear he was in his position based on family. But, he was also competent. We got along fine, but he could get a little moody. There was a garage in back. The shop foreman was Wayne Brubaker. He was a very good mechanic. He could be the nicest guy or a real jerk depending on the day. We gave him plenty of grief, so maybe we had something to do with his changeable attitude.
But, like any job, you need a break. On one of our beer filled nights at The Class Act (where I would meet my bride in February of 1985) Dave and I decided that Dennis’ tales of his home town of Tucson, AZ sounded like something we would want to see. I can remember Dennis telling us of Old Tucson, a western town created for the purpose of using it as a movie set. He told us about an airplane museum/boneyard that had old World War II aircraft. Dave and I had an interest in the Old West and World War II planes. This was right up our alley. Soon we were making plans for a December trip. The fact that we would find some warm weather in a cold Colorado month, also sounded very appealing. We picked a date and started setting aside money.
A potential hiccup presented itself when I interviewed for a new position in November. Dennis had left US Auto, in the late summer (I think) and he place was not the same without him. Plus the pay was not going to put me in a position to move out of my folks place. The interview went well, and I began my new job, as a Driver’s Helper, for Distron, the company that served Burger King restaurants, providing them with their food and supplies. Distron would eventually become McLane Foodservice, where 33 years later, I still work.
I had been upfront with my new boss, Bud LaChappell, when he interviewed me, telling him that I had plans for a weekender in December. He was fine with that and the trip remained intact. The new job came with quite a boost in income, especially since I would be working on Thanksgiving, and making double time and a half. I even stopped by US Auto to gloat a bit, showing Jim Stanton my pay stub from this time. It was triple what I had been making, and doubtless more than he was. I don’t remember if I mentioned that included holiday pay. Either way, he had trouble hiding his jealousy.
It made me feel like an expert in a field. People from all over the city would come in asking for help and advice. Make no mistake, I had above average knowledge in cars of the day. Dennis had much more hands on knowledge, but I did all of my own work and helped friends as well. So, when someone came in asked about an overheating problem, I could help them diagnosis the issue by asking about their thermostat, changes they had made to the engine compartment, leaks, smells, and how their temp gauge responded. I knew what I was doing.
On top of that I worked with a pretty good bunch of guys. Dennis, who I had known for 8 years, since I was 13 years old, was my oldest and closest friend. Jim Stanton, a 40 something career salesman, whose home town was Baltimore. He never tired of telling us about the Orioles and Colts. It made him mad as hell when the Colts moved to Indianapolis. The owners; Fred and Vi Russo, they owned US Auto Parts from 1977 to 1987. Our, Dennis, Jim and I’s, immediate supervisor was Mark Russo, son of the owners. He was a hard one to pigeon-hole. It was clear he was in his position based on family. But, he was also competent. We got along fine, but he could get a little moody. There was a garage in back. The shop foreman was Wayne Brubaker. He was a very good mechanic. He could be the nicest guy or a real jerk depending on the day. We gave him plenty of grief, so maybe we had something to do with his changeable attitude.
But, like any job, you need a break. On one of our beer filled nights at The Class Act (where I would meet my bride in February of 1985) Dave and I decided that Dennis’ tales of his home town of Tucson, AZ sounded like something we would want to see. I can remember Dennis telling us of Old Tucson, a western town created for the purpose of using it as a movie set. He told us about an airplane museum/boneyard that had old World War II aircraft. Dave and I had an interest in the Old West and World War II planes. This was right up our alley. Soon we were making plans for a December trip. The fact that we would find some warm weather in a cold Colorado month, also sounded very appealing. We picked a date and started setting aside money.
A potential hiccup presented itself when I interviewed for a new position in November. Dennis had left US Auto, in the late summer (I think) and he place was not the same without him. Plus the pay was not going to put me in a position to move out of my folks place. The interview went well, and I began my new job, as a Driver’s Helper, for Distron, the company that served Burger King restaurants, providing them with their food and supplies. Distron would eventually become McLane Foodservice, where 33 years later, I still work.
I had been upfront with my new boss, Bud LaChappell, when he interviewed me, telling him that I had plans for a weekender in December. He was fine with that and the trip remained intact. The new job came with quite a boost in income, especially since I would be working on Thanksgiving, and making double time and a half. I even stopped by US Auto to gloat a bit, showing Jim Stanton my pay stub from this time. It was triple what I had been making, and doubtless more than he was. I don’t remember if I mentioned that included holiday pay. Either way, he had trouble hiding his jealousy.
Day One---Friday, December 7th, 1984
Brighton, CO to Tucson, AZ is a 900 mile, 13 hour drive. One would expect a trip of this distance, with a goal of not stopping except for necessity to be started in the AM. Well, Dave and I were 21 years old, and Dennis was three years older, so we started when the last of us got off work. I do not remember exactly when that was, but mid-afternoon is a pretty good guess.
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I recall only a few details about the trip. Dennis definitely started behind the wheel. We were taking his Thunderbird. “His” was a delicate subject. Dennis was divorced from first wife, Shawn LaTorra, by then, but they still had a relationship. A rocky and dysfunctional one, but a relationship. I think Shawn was making the payments for this car, I could be wrong there, but I am sure she thought of it as at least half her car.
Anyway, we were on the road and spirits were high. I don’t recall that those spirits were supplemented with alcohol. I am thinking that because to the time of day and distance to travel we skipped any thought of beer. There would be time for that in Arizona. |
Dennis' Thunderbird
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Night likely had fallen about the time we reached the Colorado/New Mexico state line. I know we were all looking to make sure we did not miss the Hatch, NM cutoff, deep in New Mexico. We made a stop in Las Vegas, NM for fuel and then jumped back on I-25.
At Hatch, we tuned off of I-25 on to Highway 26. Taking this highway knocked over 50 miles off the trip, had we continued to Las Cruses. Dennis had made this drive before and knew what an hour of drive time meant. 45 minutes later, around midnight, we turned on to I-10 at Deming, NM. That gave us another 3 hours of driving.
I don’t recall how we made our hotel decision. I doubt Dave or I had any say in it. Dennis had either scouted one out from his Tucson knowledge or we took the first one that looked good. At that time of the morning, anything with a vacancy was going to look good.
Once checked in, and I have no recollection of which hotel we stayed at, we quickly determined a problem; three tired men and two beds. Sharing a bed was not an option. Wasn’t happening. We drew straws or something of the sort and Dave lost. He spent the first night on the floor, while Dennis and I were soon out like a light.
At Hatch, we tuned off of I-25 on to Highway 26. Taking this highway knocked over 50 miles off the trip, had we continued to Las Cruses. Dennis had made this drive before and knew what an hour of drive time meant. 45 minutes later, around midnight, we turned on to I-10 at Deming, NM. That gave us another 3 hours of driving.
I don’t recall how we made our hotel decision. I doubt Dave or I had any say in it. Dennis had either scouted one out from his Tucson knowledge or we took the first one that looked good. At that time of the morning, anything with a vacancy was going to look good.
Once checked in, and I have no recollection of which hotel we stayed at, we quickly determined a problem; three tired men and two beds. Sharing a bed was not an option. Wasn’t happening. We drew straws or something of the sort and Dave lost. He spent the first night on the floor, while Dennis and I were soon out like a light.
Day Two---Saturday, December 8th, 1984
Never mind the hair dryer, look at that waist. I miss being that thin.
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Bright and early was not when we awoke the next morning. The exact hour escapes me, but it would have been closer to lunch than breakfast. Dave told us that we would have to turn the valve to the toilet back on, as the toilet would run during the night, and this was his remedy. We were all soon through our morning routine and on our way to Old Tucson.
Old Tucson started out as a 50 building reproduction of an 1860s Arizona town. It was built in 1939 for the move Arizona, which starred William Holden and Jean Arthur. The town would become a staple for Westerns drawing the likes of Glenn Ford, Kirk Douglas, Charles Bronson, Burt Lancaster, Paul Newman Clint Eastwood, and of course, John Wayne. I was, and still am, a big John Wayne fan, so I was very interested in seeing where John Wayne had filmed any of his movies. Parts of Rio Bravo, McLintock!, El Dorado, and Rio Lobo were filled in Old Tucson. I was pretty jazzed to see this place. |
We were all pretty jazzed after getting a good night’s sleep and heading out into the desert to find Old Tucson. Dave and I had never seen saguaro cactus, which were all over the place once we got out of town. I am guessing that we took West Gates Pass Road west out of town. The pictures that we took show the three of climbing on rocks with our shirts off. For Dave and I, it was quite the novelty to be sans shirt in December. Back in Denver, we were looking at temps 25 to 35 degrees colder. We were all pretty happy about the weather.
That's Dave in the foreground. Me looking as good as I ever would.
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While we were pulled over enjoying the terrain and sunshine, a particular cactus caught our eye. It had an appendage at a strategic position and angle, so of course with the juvenile exuberance of a 12 year old, I had to snap a picture, preserving it for eternity as The Cactus with a Dick. This should give you an idea of our state of mind at the time. We were soon on our way to see Old Tucson. Jazz would continue.
Not long after we pulled into the parking lot of Old Tucson. I remember a strange sense of reverence and awe pulling into the lot. In the epoch of cinema, this was a historic place. But, outside of that world, it is just a tourist attraction. But, to me, as a 21 year old in 1984, journeying a 1000 miles to see where John Wayne had made his own wizardry, I was on a pilgrimage. |
The Well Hung Cactus
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Even before was left the parking lot the sight of Golden Gate Mountain loomed off to the east. I instinctively took a picture of it, more feeling than knowing, that such a prominent geological feature must have backdropped many camera landscapes. I later read that it is probably appeared in over 300 movies of TV shows.
Old Tucson Entrance from parking lot
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Golden Gate Mountain
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We wandered up and down the dusty streets, tread on the wood sidewalks, and had a beer at the bar. We stopped at every building and read every sign, educating us on which piece of Western movie history had been created on that spot. Most we had heard of. Some we hadn’t. At least one, the High Chaparral sign, is iconic. We had a good time posing inside the Old Tucson Jail, or at a cut out with a poker table, and in front of an old mine car.
Me in Old Tucson jail
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Dennis and Dave playing cards
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We entered and were handed a map of grounds, which I think had a schedule of events. Tops on our list of things to experience was the gunfight. Looking back through a jungle of intertwined and twisted memories, I cannot pick out which of the numerous staged gunfights I have witnessed, was this. What I do remember is being as transfixed as if I was watching the finale of Big Jake, with various guys in white hats standing in for The Duke and his sons
I am sure that the gunfight was not the first thing we did. I have pictures (which are just this side of terrible. What camera did I have back then?
I am sure that the gunfight was not the first thing we did. I have pictures (which are just this side of terrible. What camera did I have back then?
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I can remember there was at least one area that was off limits. I have thought it could have been for Father Murphy, a short lived west-themed TV show starring Merlin Olson, but it went off the air over a year earlier. I imagine I am remembering a sign telling us that the show was filmed in a particular area.
We wandered up and down the dusty streets, tread on the wood sidewalks, and had a beer at the bar. We stopped at every building and read every sign, educating us on which piece of Western movie history had been created on that spot. Most we had heard of. Some we hadn’t. At least one, the High Chaparral sign, is iconic. |
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Even in southern Arizona, the days are short, so Old Tucson had abbreviated hours. The shadows were starting to get long when it was time to leave. I have not been back to the area, let alone Old Tucson since. One day.
But, just because we were done with this diversion, did not mean our day was done. Dennis took us to a place called Home Plate. Home Plate was a sports bar with a twist. In the back of the bar, outside were a set of batting cages. If I remember right, there were two dedicated to softball, and three or four to baseball. Each of the baseball ones were labeled to indicate how fast the ball would be coming. The one on the far right was called Nolan Ryan. I think I read somewhere that it threw an 88 MPH fastball. That does not sound fast, but I went through twelve balls and fouled off two or three. I don’t think I made solid contact on any of them. I am sure that Dennis at least took some cuts,
But, just because we were done with this diversion, did not mean our day was done. Dennis took us to a place called Home Plate. Home Plate was a sports bar with a twist. In the back of the bar, outside were a set of batting cages. If I remember right, there were two dedicated to softball, and three or four to baseball. Each of the baseball ones were labeled to indicate how fast the ball would be coming. The one on the far right was called Nolan Ryan. I think I read somewhere that it threw an 88 MPH fastball. That does not sound fast, but I went through twelve balls and fouled off two or three. I don’t think I made solid contact on any of them. I am sure that Dennis at least took some cuts,
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Dennis must have been about 17 when he left Arizona for Colorado. That meant that he never had a legal beer in the place. I am sure his Dad took him and his brothers to the cages, while Ed enjoyed one himself. I remember Ed Labor, Dennis’ dad with a scruffy, salt and pepper beard. He was always very pleasant to be around, and usually had a beer not far away.
We had a hamburger and fries there, took our swings on the cages, and kind of looked around. I don’t recall it getting very busy, which was unusual. But maybe that is just my selective memory. I know we were all three on the lookout for girls, but there was nothing doing. I don’t recall spending a lot of time at Home Plate. But, on the other hand, I don’t know what else we might have done. We had a whole evening to fill and I know we didn’t spend that time at the hotel. But, we eventually did make it back to the hotel. I’m pretty sure that Dennis ended up with the short straw for this evening and ended up on the floor. |
Batting Cages at Home Plate
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Day Three---Sunday, December 9th, 1984
We were up earlier on Sunday morning than we were yesterday. We had gotten caught up on our sleep and were raring to start our next adventure. Today we had two things planned. We were going to see Colossal Cave and we were going to visit the Pima County Air Museum, even if we did not know what it was called or where it was at.
As our subterranean destination was a half hour away and Dave and I both want to see the aircraft our first stop was going to be the museum. Trouble was that Dennis was a little fuzzy on where it was at, and maybe even what it was.
There are kind of two places where it could be. Dennis and his family have lived in Tucson because his dad had been stationed at Davis-Monthan AFB while he was a paratrooper in the Air Force. Davis-Monthan has the biggest aircraft boneyard in the world. Maybe that boneyard is open to the public, or maybe Dennis, as the dependent of an airman, got to visit it with his dad. The Pima County Air Museum (now called Pima Air and Space Museum), was created to preserve the best and most historic specimens from the Davis-Monthan boneyard. Maybe that is what Dennis remembered.
Dennis figured the base was the best place to try first. We got there and the guards at the gate seemed confused as to what Dennis was asking. I remember Dennis had gotten out of the car to talk to them, so I didn’t hear all of the conversation. One of them finally said that we must be looking for the Pima County Air Museum and gave us directions. It was only a five minute drive, as the museum bordered the south boundary of the base. We arrived paid our admission and were soon wandering about.
If I recall correctly, and that would be a wager with some long odds, there one major building, and then most of the aircraft were lined up, on the unpaved field of the museum grounds. In that respect it was a little off-putting. Even though these pieces of American history were being preserved, it felt inadequate to have them parked in little more than a fenced in piece of desert.
Still, they were here. Dave and I spent an entire semester in an art class in Jr High, drawing fighter aircraft of World War II. We had read extensively and memorized armament, air speed, and theaters of action of every significant aircraft of the era. . We watched the Black Sheep Squadron every Tuesday (while the rest of the world watched Happy Days). But, this was our real life exposure to actual fighting aircraft. We were ready.
As our subterranean destination was a half hour away and Dave and I both want to see the aircraft our first stop was going to be the museum. Trouble was that Dennis was a little fuzzy on where it was at, and maybe even what it was.
There are kind of two places where it could be. Dennis and his family have lived in Tucson because his dad had been stationed at Davis-Monthan AFB while he was a paratrooper in the Air Force. Davis-Monthan has the biggest aircraft boneyard in the world. Maybe that boneyard is open to the public, or maybe Dennis, as the dependent of an airman, got to visit it with his dad. The Pima County Air Museum (now called Pima Air and Space Museum), was created to preserve the best and most historic specimens from the Davis-Monthan boneyard. Maybe that is what Dennis remembered.
Dennis figured the base was the best place to try first. We got there and the guards at the gate seemed confused as to what Dennis was asking. I remember Dennis had gotten out of the car to talk to them, so I didn’t hear all of the conversation. One of them finally said that we must be looking for the Pima County Air Museum and gave us directions. It was only a five minute drive, as the museum bordered the south boundary of the base. We arrived paid our admission and were soon wandering about.
If I recall correctly, and that would be a wager with some long odds, there one major building, and then most of the aircraft were lined up, on the unpaved field of the museum grounds. In that respect it was a little off-putting. Even though these pieces of American history were being preserved, it felt inadequate to have them parked in little more than a fenced in piece of desert.
Still, they were here. Dave and I spent an entire semester in an art class in Jr High, drawing fighter aircraft of World War II. We had read extensively and memorized armament, air speed, and theaters of action of every significant aircraft of the era. . We watched the Black Sheep Squadron every Tuesday (while the rest of the world watched Happy Days). But, this was our real life exposure to actual fighting aircraft. We were ready.
B-24 Liberator--See Dennis and Dave in front of the #1 Engine
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Dennis (Dave in back) in front of a landing gear on a B-29 Superfortress
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The first aircraft that really grabs your attention is B-24 Liberator that is parked outside the big hanger. The B-24 was the most produced aircraft of World War II. It served everywhere during the war. It had a long range, could carry a large load of bombs, and had a high cruise speed. We just thought the thing was big.
It was not as big as the B-29 Superfortress that was parked nearby. The B-24 had a wingspan of 110 feet. The Superfortress measured at 141 feet across. Of course that was dwarfed by the B-52 Stratofortress which was not far away. It came in at 185 feet across. I got pictures of Dave and or Dennis standing beside them to get some perspective. They were all awesome in the true definition of the word.
Lockheed F-5G Photo Lightning and Dave. Dennis just being cool.
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The B-52 Stratofortress, or just the B-52 Bomber. The B-52 has been in service since the early 1950's and is still the front line bomber today.
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Our tour of the grounds was not reserved to bombers. There was a Lockheed F-5G Photo Lightning, which was based on the P-38 Lightning, an aircraft that every WWII historian is familiar with. There was a Grumman Avenger, the same type of aircraft used in the Battle of Midway, and which President George H.W, Bush flew and had to ditch in the ocean during WWII.
There were so many. We saw a Grumman F-11 Tiger, which was painted up as one of the Navy’s Blue Angels. Balancing that was a Republic F-84 Thunderstreak painted up as an Air Force Thunderbird. There was a flimsy looking helicopter called an Osage, which was set up as a photo op. I could not resist. I look pretty big inside this thing. It looked closer to a toy than it did an air machine.
There were so many. We saw a Grumman F-11 Tiger, which was painted up as one of the Navy’s Blue Angels. Balancing that was a Republic F-84 Thunderstreak painted up as an Air Force Thunderbird. There was a flimsy looking helicopter called an Osage, which was set up as a photo op. I could not resist. I look pretty big inside this thing. It looked closer to a toy than it did an air machine.
Republic F-84 Thunderstreak painted as an Air Force Thunderbird
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Dave between a Navy version of the Shooting Star called the TV-2 and a Grumman F-11 Tiger painted as a Navvy Blue Angel
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Me inside a very tiny feeling Hughes TH-55 Osage Helicopter
I barely even remember going inside. They had a Pratt and Whitney R-2800 engine (it powered the F6F Hellcat and F-47 Thunderbolt, among others) which they had cutaway to show how it worked. I was impressed enough to take a couple of pictures of that.
Chance Vaught F-4U Corsair. The fighter from The Black Sheep Squadron. Dave and I loved that show
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Pratt and Whitney R-2800 radial engine, cutaway
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I don’t recall how long we spent at their looking at the hundreds of displays, artifacts, and planes, but however long it was, it was not enough. Researching this and looking though the old pictures, really whetted my appetite for a return trip.
Our day was only half done. We still wanted to get to Colossal Cave before it closed and take a tour. It was about a half hour drive from the air museum to Colossal Cave. I had never been inside a cave before, so I did not know what to expect.
We parked, got our tickets, and I noticed a sign letting us know that the cave was always 70 degrees. Through the years I have toured several other caves and while the temperatures varied, it was very common for them to maintain a stable temperature, year round. I imagine it is because they are so insulated, and get their heat from some sort of constant source. Regardless, I found that fascinating then, and still do today.
Our tour was conducted by a girl (Girl. She was probably a couple of years older than I was) who looked very good in her sweater and jeans. The three of us were all young males whose hormones were making far too many decisions in our lives. I did manage to pay attention to her as she told us about the cave system.
We parked, got our tickets, and I noticed a sign letting us know that the cave was always 70 degrees. Through the years I have toured several other caves and while the temperatures varied, it was very common for them to maintain a stable temperature, year round. I imagine it is because they are so insulated, and get their heat from some sort of constant source. Regardless, I found that fascinating then, and still do today.
Our tour was conducted by a girl (Girl. She was probably a couple of years older than I was) who looked very good in her sweater and jeans. The three of us were all young males whose hormones were making far too many decisions in our lives. I did manage to pay attention to her as she told us about the cave system.
Cute Guide
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Our guide, who I will chauvinistically refer to as Cute Guide, because she was and I don’t care to be PC, began by telling us about the owners (don’t care) and how big the cave system is (3.5 miles of mapped passage ways.) and about bat guano (who knew it was valuable?) Then she moved on to the story of the Lost Loot.
The story, which sounds similar to a dozen others I have heard, is that a small group of people with ill-gotten gains (train robbers in today’s story) hid out in Colossal Cave. Of course they needed to hind their silver for some reason for another. Then it would not be lost if the story did not continue that for some reason (death and arrest, I think) they could not recover the money. It is supposed to be still there. I didn’t buy the story even as a gullible 21 year old. I kind of figured if the location where it has been lost was common knowledge for 100 years, every stone had been looked under, every corner illuminated and every hole searched. If there had ever been loot, someone found it days or maybe weeks after it was hidden. That did not stop Cute Guide from telling us that she was the only one who knew the way out, so she expected a share of gold or silver found. 
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Nogales, Mexico
Like I mentioned in my preamble, some of this stuff is lost to the hole in my memory. I know we visited Nogales and made a quick stop at either Tubac or Tumaccori. My guess is that it was Tubac, judging by which modern day pictures tickle my memory. But, really, noting stuck other than the two names. I remember Dennis talking about both. For my 21 year old self, neither looked like something I would have been interested in. That goes a long way to explaining my memory gap.
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Regardless, I have no idea where in my narrative to put this part. The above could be off, and we visited either Colossal Cave or the Pima County Air Museum on our first full day, and then we visited Nogales on our second full day. I’m reasonably certain we did not visit Mexico on our first full day. I am also reasonably certain we did not spend three nights. I am also not sure there is room on either day. But, here goes. We headed west back towards Tucson and then jumped on I-19 south. Our destination was Nogales, Mexico. I had no idea what to expect when driving to a foreign country. Dennis had gone before, so Dave and I put our trust in his hands. |
Photo couresty of SouthwestPhotoJournal.com
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We did hear one story, from Jim Stanton, back at US Auto, and Dennis and I both took it with a grain of salt. Jim said that there was a barber shop in town that if you went in and requested a “back room haircut”, that you would be escorted to a room in the back with a chair, and while you reclined back to get your trim a young lady would come in to give you a whole different service. Then Jim added in a terrible Mexican accent that “it was berry expensive. It cost five dollar” I’m not sure if it was the irony or the absurdity, but we laughed, and Dave laughed harder when we told him the story. Like I said we thought the story was BS, but with Jim you never knew.
We took a break at Tubac, which got its start as a Spanish presidio. They had a museum and the remains of the presidio. I remember almost nothing about it. To be honest, I don’t even remember if we stopped here for sure or not. We may have stopped at Tumaccori, the site of a Spanish mission, which was fairly close by. We stopped at one, maybe because Dennis, who was driving had to pee. I really don’t remember. I do remember thinking “Sure, if Dennis says this is worth stopping to see, let’s stop”. But, it was not something that I had heard of, or even understood back then. So, it did not leave an impression on me.
It was not much more than half an hour later that we crossed the border into Mexico. There is a Nogales, AZ and Nogales, Mexico. The international border splits the city in two. So we had to drive through the Arizona portion of the city. I recall it looking kind of run down, but when we approached the border crossing there was a large cement canopy over each direction of traffic. There were two lanes each way, with a booth/check point splitting the lanes. We drove in without being stopped.
There was a decided and noticeable increase in the poverty level on the Mexican side. There seemed to be more litter. The building, while similar in architecture were a little shabbier, as you got a deeper into the city. Dennis seemed to know where he was going. I would guess that liquor laws were much more lax in Mexico and high school kids were often making the 90 minute trek for alcohol and other diversions.
We were interested in just wandering and experiencing the shopping. We had heard tales of good deals and the necessity to haggle over price. I was not looking forward to that, feeling I would more likely over pay as to get a decent price. I don’t remember a thing about parking, but then again, it was not my car. You can bet your butt that if I driven my car into a foreign country, especially one where I might consider crime a problem, I would have recalled exactly what I had done to insure it was there when we needed to go home.
This will likely sound a bit strange, but on this whole trip, and Mexico is included I don’t remember beer or any other vice really playing a prominent role. I know we a beer or two at The Home Plate, but that was a sports bar. It’s like a constitutional requirement. We looked at every pretty girl that crossed our path. Like that was out of the ordinary. But, that’s it. In Mexico, we shopped.
I guess the stories of cheap wares intrigued us. This was 1984 after all. Inflation was just getting under control and watching the purchasing power of money erode seemingly overnight was a vivid memory. We went in to two or three shops from what I remember. Maybe it was two or three that we bought something, and we went into several more.
I have two vivid memories of our Mexico haggling. An onyx chess set caught my eye. There were actually more than one, and after I asked about one of them, the shopkeeper commented that “I had expensive tastes”. In hindsight he was setting me up for better bargaining position. At the time I thought “Well, I guess I can’t afford it.” I think I did end up with the lesser of the two, on the attractiveness scale.
The set was made out of Mexican onyx, with each of the pieces hand carved, and the chessboard also of the same stone. The board did not survive me moving out the apartment I would be leasing in a few months. I think I still have the chess pieces, or at least a few of them around somewhere. I know I saw them a few months ago, but I was in a purge kind of mood, and I don’t recall if they survived the phase. I also picked up a velvet painting of a panther. I don't remember haggling over it, but I am pretty sure I picked it up in Nogales, so there must have been some negotiating going on.
We took a break at Tubac, which got its start as a Spanish presidio. They had a museum and the remains of the presidio. I remember almost nothing about it. To be honest, I don’t even remember if we stopped here for sure or not. We may have stopped at Tumaccori, the site of a Spanish mission, which was fairly close by. We stopped at one, maybe because Dennis, who was driving had to pee. I really don’t remember. I do remember thinking “Sure, if Dennis says this is worth stopping to see, let’s stop”. But, it was not something that I had heard of, or even understood back then. So, it did not leave an impression on me.
It was not much more than half an hour later that we crossed the border into Mexico. There is a Nogales, AZ and Nogales, Mexico. The international border splits the city in two. So we had to drive through the Arizona portion of the city. I recall it looking kind of run down, but when we approached the border crossing there was a large cement canopy over each direction of traffic. There were two lanes each way, with a booth/check point splitting the lanes. We drove in without being stopped.
There was a decided and noticeable increase in the poverty level on the Mexican side. There seemed to be more litter. The building, while similar in architecture were a little shabbier, as you got a deeper into the city. Dennis seemed to know where he was going. I would guess that liquor laws were much more lax in Mexico and high school kids were often making the 90 minute trek for alcohol and other diversions.
We were interested in just wandering and experiencing the shopping. We had heard tales of good deals and the necessity to haggle over price. I was not looking forward to that, feeling I would more likely over pay as to get a decent price. I don’t remember a thing about parking, but then again, it was not my car. You can bet your butt that if I driven my car into a foreign country, especially one where I might consider crime a problem, I would have recalled exactly what I had done to insure it was there when we needed to go home.
This will likely sound a bit strange, but on this whole trip, and Mexico is included I don’t remember beer or any other vice really playing a prominent role. I know we a beer or two at The Home Plate, but that was a sports bar. It’s like a constitutional requirement. We looked at every pretty girl that crossed our path. Like that was out of the ordinary. But, that’s it. In Mexico, we shopped.
I guess the stories of cheap wares intrigued us. This was 1984 after all. Inflation was just getting under control and watching the purchasing power of money erode seemingly overnight was a vivid memory. We went in to two or three shops from what I remember. Maybe it was two or three that we bought something, and we went into several more.
I have two vivid memories of our Mexico haggling. An onyx chess set caught my eye. There were actually more than one, and after I asked about one of them, the shopkeeper commented that “I had expensive tastes”. In hindsight he was setting me up for better bargaining position. At the time I thought “Well, I guess I can’t afford it.” I think I did end up with the lesser of the two, on the attractiveness scale.
The set was made out of Mexican onyx, with each of the pieces hand carved, and the chessboard also of the same stone. The board did not survive me moving out the apartment I would be leasing in a few months. I think I still have the chess pieces, or at least a few of them around somewhere. I know I saw them a few months ago, but I was in a purge kind of mood, and I don’t recall if they survived the phase. I also picked up a velvet painting of a panther. I don't remember haggling over it, but I am pretty sure I picked it up in Nogales, so there must have been some negotiating going on.
My Mexican velvet painting. I always thought it looked good. It eventually got damaged and thrown out
My other memory is of Dave. He talked about wanting a cowboy style weather slicker like the ones featured in the movie The Long Riders. I don’t recall if we ever found one to even look at, but I recall he did not get one. What he did get was a leather wallet. I was kind of the background watching Dave dicker with the shop owner, and Dave was not budging on his offer. They guys would show him the features, calfskin this, and stitching that, but Dave was holding firm. The owner kind of threw up his hands and walked back a few paces as if to compose himself. Dave bought the wallet, but I never found out if he moved up in price or not. I just remember the Mexican shopkeepers exasperated look on his face.
It was not long after that that we found the Thunderbird, still there and hubcaps intact. Dennis drove us back towards the border. I don’t recall getting much scrutiny as we crossed back into the land of milk and honey. I recall having to stop and maybe a question was asked of Dennis, or maybe it was just a “OK, bunch of dumb kids” and wave through. It did not take long.
It was not long after that that we found the Thunderbird, still there and hubcaps intact. Dennis drove us back towards the border. I don’t recall getting much scrutiny as we crossed back into the land of milk and honey. I recall having to stop and maybe a question was asked of Dennis, or maybe it was just a “OK, bunch of dumb kids” and wave through. It did not take long.
The Drive Home
I wish I had a firmer grasp of the timeline, but based on the fact that I know we drove straight through the night, I know it would have taken us 13 hours or so, and I know it was not much past sun up when we hit Pueblo, CO, we likely did not leave Tucson until about 7 PM.
I do not know how we did it. To be young and dumb again. Dennis took the first leg and I imagine he drove until sometime in wee hours. I imagine it was at a rest or gas stop in New Mexico, when Dave volunteered to take over. I groggily remember the switch. I recall coming to about sunrise, with a little angel on my shoulder saying “You should take over for Dave.” But, a little devil popped up on the other shoulder and said “Nah, you’re tired go back to sleep”. Then the two of them started to argue and the commotion got the driver’s attention. Dave asked if I was awake and wanted to take over. We made the switch probably not far from Raton Pass.
I was still pretty tired and groggy myself. About Pueblo I-25 made a deceptively sharp turn. I was exceeding the posted limit and the pressure the turn put on one of back wheel caused one of the “I survived Nogales” hubcaps to come off with a clang and commence rolling down the highway.
Back came the angels. “Stop! You have to go get that”. As you might guess Evil Bill appears and say “Drive you idiot. It’s just a hub cap”. The arguing, or maybe it was the clang, woke Dennis. “Was that a hubcap?” Yeah, I said. “Those things about $90”. The next exit was right there, so I took and we back tracked. Amazingly we found it quickly. The adrenaline and getting out of the car opened our eyes for the rest of the drive home.
We arrived home about 9 AM. Dave was dropped off, then me. I groggily waved Dennis off so he could go to bed. It had been a great trip.
I do not know how we did it. To be young and dumb again. Dennis took the first leg and I imagine he drove until sometime in wee hours. I imagine it was at a rest or gas stop in New Mexico, when Dave volunteered to take over. I groggily remember the switch. I recall coming to about sunrise, with a little angel on my shoulder saying “You should take over for Dave.” But, a little devil popped up on the other shoulder and said “Nah, you’re tired go back to sleep”. Then the two of them started to argue and the commotion got the driver’s attention. Dave asked if I was awake and wanted to take over. We made the switch probably not far from Raton Pass.
I was still pretty tired and groggy myself. About Pueblo I-25 made a deceptively sharp turn. I was exceeding the posted limit and the pressure the turn put on one of back wheel caused one of the “I survived Nogales” hubcaps to come off with a clang and commence rolling down the highway.
Back came the angels. “Stop! You have to go get that”. As you might guess Evil Bill appears and say “Drive you idiot. It’s just a hub cap”. The arguing, or maybe it was the clang, woke Dennis. “Was that a hubcap?” Yeah, I said. “Those things about $90”. The next exit was right there, so I took and we back tracked. Amazingly we found it quickly. The adrenaline and getting out of the car opened our eyes for the rest of the drive home.
We arrived home about 9 AM. Dave was dropped off, then me. I groggily waved Dennis off so he could go to bed. It had been a great trip.
Epilogue
With my change in jobs, I moved out of my folks’ house about two months later, in January of 1985. I was 21 years old and officially on my own. Dennis was my roommate. He did not last long. He was gone in just a few months. I had expected it, and had made sure I could afford the place without help. I met (re-met; a story for another time) Margo in late February of 1985. She and Jolene moved in during the fall of that year. We were married in 1987
This trip did rekindle an urge to see things and go places. Margo and I made our first trip together later that summer, when we went down to Colorado Springs. We repeated it the following year. I hope to get those travel stories down on paper, soon.
On April 25, 1995 a fire wiped out 40% of Old Tucson and closed the theme park until 1997. It reopened, but with the demise of the west in movies and TV, its heyday was past. It is still open and still serves as a movie set, but the recent productions are mostly forgettable. I still very much want to go back.
Of the US Auto crowd; Vi Russo passed away in March 2016 and Fred followed just two months later, in May. He was 91. When I went looking to see whatever became of Mark Russo, it looks like he is owner of Rocky Mountain Waterscapes, based in Erie. His company builds water features. I could not find out what happened to Jim Stanton
Wayne Brubaker passed away in 2016, in Illinois. I found out more about him by reading his obit, then I did working with him for a year.
Bud LaChappell, my first Diston boss, is alive and living in Mesa, AZ. I assume he is retired. His wife has a larger digital footprint than he does.
Dave Wolf, married Kim Ritchey in 1986. They have two kids, and three grandkids. They live in Keenesburg. We see each other occasionaly. The last time was at Jessi’s wedding reception in July 2017.
Dennis is on this third (fourth?) wife, and living in Brighton.
This trip did rekindle an urge to see things and go places. Margo and I made our first trip together later that summer, when we went down to Colorado Springs. We repeated it the following year. I hope to get those travel stories down on paper, soon.
On April 25, 1995 a fire wiped out 40% of Old Tucson and closed the theme park until 1997. It reopened, but with the demise of the west in movies and TV, its heyday was past. It is still open and still serves as a movie set, but the recent productions are mostly forgettable. I still very much want to go back.
Of the US Auto crowd; Vi Russo passed away in March 2016 and Fred followed just two months later, in May. He was 91. When I went looking to see whatever became of Mark Russo, it looks like he is owner of Rocky Mountain Waterscapes, based in Erie. His company builds water features. I could not find out what happened to Jim Stanton
Wayne Brubaker passed away in 2016, in Illinois. I found out more about him by reading his obit, then I did working with him for a year.
Bud LaChappell, my first Diston boss, is alive and living in Mesa, AZ. I assume he is retired. His wife has a larger digital footprint than he does.
Dave Wolf, married Kim Ritchey in 1986. They have two kids, and three grandkids. They live in Keenesburg. We see each other occasionaly. The last time was at Jessi’s wedding reception in July 2017.
Dennis is on this third (fourth?) wife, and living in Brighton.