Month: March 2023

UPDATE: THE 7/4/61 DEAD HORSE MURDERS: THE FORGOTTEN VICTIMS —Jim Stiles (ZX#55)

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For the last two years, I knew there was a vital part of this story that was missing. Like I’ve said so many times before, what about Abel Aragon’s family? What about his wife and five children? I had read the editorial in the Price Sun-Advocate, written the week after the murders, and I wondered if it was already a plea to their fellow citizens in response to a backlash from the community. How did the Aragon family cope with this insane crime?

But I had no idea how to contact the Aragon family. And if I did, would they even want to talk to me? Even worse, had they seen my articles and resented the fact that I have dragged up this awful piece of history from 60 years ago? I resigned myself to the idea that it was one part of the saga that was beyond my reach. But last November, I opened my email and was stunned to see an email from a member of the Aragon family. At first I was almost afraid to read it. Had I opened old wounds unnecessarily and caused them even more pain?

I opened the email. It was addressed to “To whom it may concern…I know that there is a great likelihood that this won’t find the right person and that this is a shot in the dark, but I was wondering if there’s a way that I could provide some information on a topic that Jim Stiles has been writing about for many many years.”

I read on…

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HERB RINGER & his Love for the Rural West’s Small Towns (1940s-50s) Volume 1 (ZX#54) w/Jim Stiles

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On May 30, 1939, Herb Ringer’s life changed forever. As he drove away from his family home in Ringoes, New Jersey, he could not have guessed that as he backed out of the driveway and turned west, that his life would never be the same again. And yet the departure was hardly a happy moment for Herb. In fact, he dreaded it. I’m sure it felt more like the most painful of deaths than the beginning of a new and indescribably beautiful future.

Herb had been married for less than two years, but it had been a disaster. Neither of them was happy. But Herb made a decision that in 1939 was almost unthinkable. He decided to file for divorce. Though his wife was just as unhappy as he was, the stigma of divorce was more than bare. She pleaded with Herb to change his mind. He was barely less humiliated than she was. He didn’t want to be known as “that man” who divorced his wife in the little hamlet of Ringoes. And so Herb made a decision that he thought might make the process less painful for both of them. He would travel all the way across America, to Reno, Nevada. Even then it was known as the “Divorce Capital of the World.”

***
When Herb first started giving me his photos, I realized that he took the time to do what few of us even consider. We took the scenic shots. Herb often turned the camera around and took pictures of the people who were taking pictures. And he stopped to photograph the little towns that most people just wanted to get through. Eventually he would give me all his photographs. Thousands of them. And among them dozens…scores…hundreds of little communities in the West that everyone else ignored.

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EDWARD ABBEY: 34 YEARS LATER in a BRAVE NEW WORLD—Jim Stiles (ZX#53)

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He once said, “ If America could be, once again, a nation of self-reliant farmers, craftsmen, hunters, ranchers and artists, then the rich would have little power to dominate others. Neither to serve nor to rule. That was the American Dream.”

Many of the older New Westerners love Ed Abbey but have no idea what that means. They’ve read all his books and they follow and “LIKE” his quotes on Facebook, but they understand far less than they realize. Many of the younger New Westerners are too busy recreating to care. Solitude isn’t even a priority (And please note, in the spirit of Abbey, I’m generalizing here and judging a generation who I know has its own shining stars. If there is any hope to be found, it is in those young people.)

What Abbey always hoped we’d take away from his writing and from his life was a sense of ourselves as individuals, as men and women who could take control of our own lives and our own destinies. Abbey spoke disapprovingly of a “nation of bleating sheep and braying jackasses.” He longed for a people with dignity and courage and he loathed the mindless “bleating” that he found even in his own readers

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