never forget! The cowboys took a liking to me and one of them, seeing me admiring a pretty little Hereford calf, walked up to dad and asked if he would let me take the calf as a present? Dad didn't like that idea. But I begged and pleaded with him and he relented. I remember to this day what he had to say about the serious obligation I was taking on ... it would be my responsibility to care for and feed this animal. Oh, I assured him that I would undertake the' responsibility for this little creature in all seriousness and that he would never have to prod me to carry out my responsibility.

The little calf was crowded into the back seat of our car and we took him home. For a week or so I was attentive to his every need. I curried the little critter and I fed him and gave him fresh water every morning and night. But before long the nine year old boy lost interest and became derelict in his duty and dad gave my pet to a rancher friend of his.

As stated earlier, dad had hired a housekeeper by the name of Mrs. Smith. She prepared our meals and kept our house tidy. I remember that she made wonderful cherry pies, using cherries off dad's trees. This fine lady was very good to Frank and me.

1934 was memorable, if for no other reason, due to the fact that it was the driest year in the recorded history of our County. The drought was so bad that the livestock had to be destroyed because they were dying of thirst. Recently my cousin, Adrienne Turner Taylor, sent me a copy of an article that appeared in the May 1994 issue of New Mexico Stockman entitled "1934 in Retrospect" which described that terrible time. A very sad and distressing experience I had that Spring now comes to mind .. it occurred when dad took me with him to a ranch near Elida: thousands of cattle had been brought in to a dry lake. My father, and three other men, 30-30 rifles at their shoulder, stood for hours slaughtering those animals. I can see dad now-­ firing round after round, and all the while, crying like a baby! Several other men with teams of horses harnessed to scoops, would pull loads of sand over the carcasses. It was almost like some scene out of a horror movie!

In June of 1934 my Uncle Harold and Aunt Mona came out to New Mexico from their home in Pennsylvania bringing Aunt Mona's nephew, John Mueller, with them. Dad took Frank and me to the Will farm at Las Cruces and he stayed there visiting with everybody for about a week. Afterwards, Aunt Mary and Uncle Rox, who were also there at the time, took Frank back with them to their home in Beaverhead, which was up in the Black Range mountains of Western New Mexico. Frank spent the rest of the summer there with them. Grandmother and grandpa Will went to Iowa by train; and I went with Aunt Mona, Uncle Harold and John by car as far Ottumwa, Iowa. The plan was for me to join my grandparents there; and, after a long visit with relatives on both sides of our family, they were to take me to Chicago and the World's Fair.

Uncle Harold took a rather circuitous route from Las Cruces back to Pennsylvania. The first stop was at Beaverhead where we spent a couple of days with Aunt Mary and Uncle Rox in a real honest to goodness log cabin where they were then living. While we were there, John Mueller, who was 14 years old at the time, and yours truly, who was ten and looked up to John as a hero, obtained the loan of a horse by the name of Napoleon, from Mr. Bob Akes, a friend of Aunt Mary's. We rode that horse all over the mountains and up the Gila (a small river) to some Cliff dwellings that have since become quite well known -- then they were relatively unknown. I think perhaps that is when the interest I have at this stage of my life first came into being. I do know that ever since John and I explored those ancient ruins in Gila canyon, out there in Western New Mexico, I have been fascinated with the study of pre-historic peoples.

After that short visit with Aunt Mary and Uncle Rox in Beaverhead, Uncle Harold, Aunt Mona, John and I drove through Magdalena, an old mining town, and on to Albuquerque, Santa