Tierra Amarilla Shootout© 1967 All Rights Reserved.
NOTE TO THE READER: There were many people involved in the incidents at Tierra Amarilla in the summer of 1967. The effort was made to record each type of incident and then one of each type is included in this collection of case studies. It would have been superfluous to include case studies that were similar, as for example two men who were allegedly fired from their jobs because of the incidents at Canjilón. But the reader should not get the impression that the people mentioned in this work were the only ones affected. An exhaustive study would bring out many more names of people who were allegedly held, fired, detained, jailed, accused, mistreated, etc. The author (Rubén Sálaz M.) was not an eyewitness to any of the events or incidents described herein. A conscious effort was made to relate the story as the interviewees said they experienced it. All interviews were recorded on magnetic tape then transcribed to paper. As far as the author is concerned, every case study is an allegation, every statement is an allegation. It is up to the reader to decide if a particular case study or the entire collection is fact or fiction. The author’s endeavor was to give the people involved the opportunity to be heard.
The PERSPECTIVES and SUMMATION were added in 2005 and are presented with the powerful advantage of hindsight. Rubén Sálaz M. CASE STUDY # 1: [Eduardo M., a gentleman past fifty years of age, quite articulate and self-assured. He spoke in Spanish.] I arrived at Coyote on the 26th of May. I rented a house behind the little store, helped out a friend with his garden, became a small part of the community for the short time I was there. On the night before the June 3rd meeting the police came to my house looking for a certain Pablo L. They stated that one of the Alianza Federal de Mercedes leaders was in jail in Santa Fe, that he wanted very desperately to talk to this Pablo L., for the good of all the members in the Alianza. I told the police, the three of them who were there, that I didn’t know who this Pablo L. was, that I couldn’t help them. They left my house. The same policemen returned about half an hour later saying that I was Pablo L., that no one in Coyote knew me as a resident of the village. They said I knew where Reies Tijerina was and that I’d better tell them. “You are mistaken,” I replied. “I am not Pablo L. and I don’t know where Reies is.” They tried to get me to talk to the Alianza leader who was supposedly in jail but I declined. They left my house for the second time. Within a few minutes the police returned saying that I was the person the man in jail wanted to talk to, that there was an extremely important message for me. “I don’t believe you,” I said. “Look, I’m going to bring in Alberto S. so he can talk to you. I know he’s your friend and that you’ll believe him. His wife will come with him.” Sure enough, in about fifteen minutes here come Alberto and his wife. He informs me that everything the police had told me was true. He finished: “Come to my ranch so you can use my telephone to talk to that man in the Santa Fe jail.” I decided to accompany my friend and the police to the ranch. I used the phone and in a few minutes I was talking to the man in jail. He told me: I have been ordered that the meeting in Coyote is not to be held. Everyone trying to attend the meeting will be arrested. For the good of everyone, I want to tell the people not to gather at Coyote. Otherwise, everybody is going to be thrown in the can. I told him I would comply with his request. I hung up the phone, thanked my host, and returned to my house. I remember it was about 4:00 in the morning, Saturday, June 3rd. I didn't sleep any in those wee hours of the morning. I waited for the sun to rise, ate breakfast, then went to the designated place of the meeting. It turned out that my presence there wasn't needed at all. The place was crawling with state police. I didn't have to tell the Alianza people anything: the gate entrance to the school grounds, where the meeting was going to be held, was locked tight. The police wore their usual side arms, but I didn't see any rifles. So there I was, all by myself, in the midst of a couple of dozen state police. I didn't have to tell the Alianza picnickers not to gather at Coyote: the police saw to it that they couldn't get into the place. CASE STUDY # 2: [Diego R., a tall robust man in his fifties. He was wary and did not wish to record his voice at first.] About two weeks or so before the Coyote conference we held a small gathering in which some men were appointed to work out the details for the June 3rd conference. I was one of the men appointed and I attended to the minor details assigned to me. As far as I could see it was nothing more than a few administrative details the like of which are necessary before any big meeting. On June 2nd, the day before the scheduled meeting, a state policemen came to where I work. He informs me I was under arrest. “For what?” I asked. He said something about an unlawful assembly. The policemen didn't show me a warrant and I didn't think it to ask for one: I was under arrest, right there where I work. I was embarrassed to say the least. I was ordered to get in the police car and I did. I was driven to the court house and put into jail. I was told that there would be an arraignment the following day. I was told nothing about civil rights or legal rights or any other kind of rights. I soon learned that all of the people who had had some part in taking care of the details for the Coyote conference had been thrown into jail. Later I read some were charged with hurting animals or killing deer and things like that although I don't think you can believe everything you read To this day no one has explained to me what was unlawful about our meeting to prepare for the Coyote conference. Perhaps this will be done in court. But I still believe I was put in jail mostly because of Alfonso Sanchez and Joe Black, the district attorney and the state police head, didn't want the conference to take place. I believe they thought that by throwing the planners in jail the other people would be intimidated into staying home. I also believe there would never have been any incidents at Tierra Amarilla or anyplace else if the Coyote conference had been allowed to take place. Since when is there a law against assembly? Exactly what is “unlawful assembly,” something that Sanchez and Black decided shouldn't take place? I won't be intimidated anymore. If I get out of jail I’ll work to have the conference in Coyote at some future date. Or maybe we should have it in Santa Fe so Joe Black and Alfonso Sánchez won't have to send their boys out of town to defend the state, a state in which I thought I had some rights and privileges too. CASE STUDY # 3: [Damacio R., a young man of about 22 years. An eye witness to many of the events at Tierra Amarilla, he is writing his own story on the whole affair.] It was about 10:00 in the morning, June 3rd, when we got to Coyote. When our car pulled up we found the state police and some guys who said they were from the FBI. They had guns, rifles, shotguns, a whole arsenal it seemed to me. They started checking our cars because, they said, somebody told them we had our cars full of dynamite, guns, and ammunition. They checked my car but they didn't find anything. They gave me a little white paper that said anybody who wanted to takeover the land was a communist. We still have the paper to prove that. I don't know what a communist is but I guess it must be pretty bad. Whatever it is, when somebody wants to discredit you all they have to do is call you a communist. Bad things aren't illegal, immoral, or fattening anymore, they're just Communist inspired. I guess it is a pretty handy label. Matter of fact I myself have a case of communist inspired athlete's foot. Communism and Communists ... what a lot of rot! CASE STUDY # 4: [Tomás C., a passionate man in his fifties, a person who seem to be strong willed and determined. He spoke in staccato, fiery Spanish.] A couple of weeks or so before June 3rd there was a meeting in Tierra Amarilla. Reyes Tijerina invited all of the people to attend a barbecue picnic in Coyote. This barbecue was scheduled for June 3rd. Reyes Tijerina invited everybody, including policemen and officials of the State right up to the Governor himself. Bueno. On the second of June the police began to arrest all the leaders Reies had appointed to make the preparations for the June 3rd meeting. They arrested S., they arrested J., A.., V., about ten or eleven men. We soon learned of all this but we still felt we could go to Coyote and hold our meeting and enjoy the barbecue. It was my understanding Governor Cargo himself had accepted an invitation so we felt everything would be fine, even if they had thrown some of our people in jail. I myself was going to talk to the Governador about those men in jail. I am not anybody with power or influence. But I am not afraid to speak my mind. Bueno. We went to the Coyote meeting/barbecue the morning of June 3rd. When I got there, my family with me, we found a whole tribe of policemen blocking the entrance. Immediately they commenced to search everybody in sight. They had plenty of guns themselves, I don't know why they wanted to find more. They searched our cars too. The police told us that they didn't want us to hold any meeting in Coyote while the children started running around. The women were complaining about the food spoiling. The men were becoming irritable about the search. I asked my friend Sevedeo if he didn't have a place where we could hold the barbecue. It was obvious there would be none at Coyote. We talked a couple of minutes. Sevedeo then made an announcement: Everybody is invited to come to my ranch. Nobody will bother you there because it is private property. There we can have our barbecue and even take a good swim if you have a mind to. He said that we could go prepare the grounds and let everybody know of the change of scene. The people decided we should have the barbecue on the 5th of June, Monday, and that's how is it stood. CASE STUDY # 5: [Arsenio D., a short, stocky, articulate man in his early 50's. He related his story in Spanish.] We were all looking for to the picnic and barbecue in Coyote. The family woke up early Saturday morning in eager anticipation of the outing. We were all packed except for the last minute items so we got an early start. Northern New Mexico is especially beautiful and then we enjoyed the ride. On the other side of the village of Gallina, close to Coyote, two State policeman were blocking all traffic. They stopped me, asked me for my driver's license, checked to see that everything was in order, then they asked me where we were going. I hemmed and hawed around that we were going to Española and then to Taos. I didn't see any reason for their questioning and they didn't bother to tell me. They told me just to leave the area, that we had nothing to do in the area, to drive right on through. I drove on for a few miles till I came to a store. It was still early. I think I woke up the owner. I bought a few things then asked if there was a restaurant where I might buy a cup of coffee. Everything was still closed. I hit the road toward Española and within a few miles there was another group of state policeman stopping traffic. We went through all the same rigmarole as before: the license, the questions, the same bit. A policeman told me if I was going to Española, fine, to go ahead and don't turn back. He said that we would not be allowed to turn off toward Coyote or T A. He said something about no room to park in Coyote or thereabouts, to go on our way and not turn onto the Coyote road. I went a ways down the Española highway but I turned back because I knew the picnic was at Coyote. We had all the foods ready and coming all the way from Albuquerque we, my family and I, didn't want to miss it. I was hoping we could find the other people coming to the place and go with them into Coyote. We encountered another family and they told us the barbecue was definitely taking place in the village. We parked close to the entrance to the Coyote road. Minutes later a State policeman went by, closed and locked the gate to the Coyote road. He locked it with a chain. Then he did something I didn't understand: on the other side of the gate he seemed to be digging little holes, over on the side of the road, and burying something small, sort of like a baseball. I’d say he buried, oh, about half a dozen of these. I don't know what they were. At any rate, he drove back to where we were parked: he asked more questions. We told him we were going into Coyote as soon as more people are arrived. “Where are you going to park?” he asked. “Around the school, where the meeting is going to take place,” I answered “Everything is all locked up,” he informed me. “I have the keys to the gate, I have the keys to the school, and you don't have any business on the premises. You had better leave.” He was the law and he had a gun to prove it so we left the place. But we parked a few miles down the road. I lifted the hood of my car so we wouldn't be bothered so much. Other people stopped where we were, we got down our food, I started playing my guitar and singing. We had come all this way we might as well do something, it seemed to me. Meanwhile the State police cars were going back and forth on the road. They would drive by, turn around and go by again as if we had to be watched. I don't see why we couldn't go into Coyote and have our picnic instead of been forced to make the best of things by the side of the road. We hadn’t been there too long when a reporter came up to us and began taking pictures. We weren't doing anything spectacular to deserve picture taking. I am sure he wouldn't have stopped if we had been having car trouble. I told the man I didn't want my picture taken, not me or any member of my family. He got mad when I wouldn't let him photograph my family. “You should cooperate,” he fumed. “Cooperating means letting you do anything you want,” I told him. He had a woman with him ... they both got mad and left us in peace. Nevertheless I saw them taking pictures from a distance. I guess I could have done something about it but I didn't want to break my guitar over his head. I value my guitar too much. A while later a policeman came up and told us to leave the premises. We told him we were waiting to go to the barbecue in Coyote. The policeman went only to have another one drive up shortly. TJ and GOVERNOR Cargo are coming to the meeting, the man said “Fine,” we said, “we'll wait for them.” We were happy. A few minutes later the policemen came back to tell us that neither Cargo nor TJ was going to be able to attend, that the Governor had asked everyone to return home, that another meeting would be announced soon. We were disappointed but we finally drove on, believing what the police had told us. I drove to Española where somebody told me the whole thing I had been a bluff, that the police just told us that to get us out of the area. I don't know who to believe anymore but I decided to drive back and try one more time to find the group for the picnic. There at the cut off to Coyote and Tierra Amarilla the state police had a roadblock. They were refusing to let anyone go through. There was a white truck in front of me, he got turned back, then the same thing happened it to me. I gave up and returned to Albuquerque. I don't hate the police, they have a tough job. But if they had just bothered to explain, if they had talked in a simple way in instead of being harsh and angry… all I was doing was taking my family on a barbecue and later to listen to some people talk to us about some of our problems. All of the policeman I saw were Spanish. I think they know how to be civil and courteous. But they acted as if they were handling animals. I don't know who runs the State Police but if I was doing it I wouldn't let them behave as if they were the Gestapo. I'll bet they would have shot somebody if we had tried to go into Coyote. But that's the way it this: the rich do more or less as they want while the poor people get justice. Sure, everybody's equal, just some people are more equal than others. And the police have the guns to back it up. CASE STUDY # 6: [Dolores V., an attractive young mother of about twenty years. She spoke English and at times in Spanish.] I had already been in Canjilón for a few days when members of the Alianza began to arrive on the morning of June 5th. I went early to visit with Mr. and Mrs. Diego M. and his wife. They’re good friends of ours, my husband and I. My baby of nine months and I had been enjoying ourselves. Monday, June 5th, people started coming in for the barbecue and to spend the day, you know. The people were happy, everybody seemed to be having a good time. We all were chatting inside the house at about 5:00 when some of the ladies told me to come outside. I went out and saw all of those policemen coming toward us. At the time, climbing up the hill like they were, they looked like ants, there were so many. They had guns and rifles pointing at us but it seemed they were all coming directly toward me! Suddenly I remembered my baby, sleeping on top of the bed inside the house. I was afraid she might roll over and hurt herself so I turned to go get her. One of the policeman told me: “You'd better not move or I'll shoot you.” I told him: “I left my baby on top of the bed and it’s high, she could fall and hit her head. Let me go and I'll come right back.” Another policeman said: “You'd better not move or we'll shoot you right there!” You know how a man sounds when he's mad, the tone of voice. That's how all of these policeman sounded and I thought to myself If I move they'll kill me right here. So I didn't say it anymore. Every policeman had a gun or rifle and they pointed them at us in what was to me a very frightening menace. They surrounded us completely, you could see them every where around the entire area. I was becoming a frantic about my baby. I ask different policeman to PLEASE let me go see about her. Finally one of them took pity, I guess, and consented to let me go inside the house. He came in behind me with his gun at my back the whole time. GRACIAS A DIOS the baby was still sleeping. I put her in a blanket and returned outside as I had been ordered to do. The police searched all the men for guns. I was the only woman they searched, as far as I know. Then they searched all the cars and trucks. They didn't find one single gun in the whole place. Next they made everybody get inside of the barbed wire fence so they could ask us questions. Some people started taking pictures, reporters I guess. I say they took pictures for more than half an hour. Then it started to rain, a strong driving downpour. I asked one of the cops to at least let me take the baby inside and put her in her playpen but he wouldn't allow it. Thank goodness she caught nothing more serious than a cold, considering what she might have caught. I guess it was about eight or nine o’clock when the police finished with the search and questions and name taking. We were still out there in the cold. One of the cops, I don't know his name, asked another one if I was going to stay the night there inside of the barbed wire fence corral with the other people. “Hell no,” he replied, “we have to take her in.” They hadn't even accused me of anything… yet. CASE STUDY # 7 [Alejandro B., a short stocky man in his early 40's. He was still emotionally upset, especially over the incidents concerning his family. He spoke Spanish.] It was a past noon when we are arrived at Canjilón. We made sandwiches for our six kids. The children taken care of for the time being, we talked and joked around with the rest of the people there. Estevan M. and I got to talking about going to the hearing up at Tierra Amarilla. We and decided to go, got in his car, and went. Maybe it was about two o'clock. We arrived at Tierra Amarilla in any short while. As we drove up to the courthouse and were about to get out of the car we heard shots begin to ring out. At first we thought maybe some car was backfiring but sure enough they were gunshots. Estevan and I were undecided as to whether or not to go in. We were curious as to what was going on but we sure didn't want to get shot in the process. We didn't have any gun with us. We made our way to the courthouse and stood outside the door for a few seconds. The gun shots were getting louder and clearer. I opened the door and peeked in. There were people running this way and that. I saw people lying on the floor in an effort to avoid getting shot. “Let's go in,” Estevan challenged, although he spoke in a whisper. So we entered the courthouse. There were some Alianza people in their and some men I had never seen before. Suddenly I was bewildered. What were we supposed to do? I didn't know what to think, even. About that time a bullet whizzed passed me and buried itself in the wall close to where I was standing. I hit the floor and came to my senses: this wasn't just some movie, somebody was shooting at me! At any rate that's what I thought at the time. The idea of a stray bullet didn't enter my mind. “Lets get out of here!” I hollered to Estevan who was stretched out on the floor a few feet away. He nodded nervously as the both of us crawled back toward the door. We opened it and sprang to our feet just in time to see a State Police car drive up. “If we run out the police will come after us,” Estevan said out loud what had just flashed through my mind. “I know, but if we stay in here we're libel to get ourselves shot,” I answered quickly. I saw the policeman pull out a rifle as he bolted out of his car. “We stand a better chance inside until we can make it to the car.” We moved back into the courthouse, slammed the door behind us. “Over by the window,” I told my friend. We didn't see anybody outside so we opened it and threw ourselves out. We sprang into our feet and began to run toward our car when somebody yelled “Hey you men!” I almost stopped and turned when I heard a rifle shot whiz over my head. We were sitting, no, running ducks. They could have shot us if they had wanted to. We turned a corner as a couple more shots blasted over or around us, I couldn't be sure. I assumed the police were shooting at us. As I think of it now it might have been somebody else but I figured everybody except the police was inside the courthouse. “They're shooting at US!” yelled Estevan. “Those dirty cabrones!” I imagine he was just as scared as me but now he was boiling mad. As we turned the corner we almost ran into a parked police car. It was loaded with rifles and guns. “I’m going to defend myself,” said Estevan as he helped himself to a rifle from the car. “If they’re going to shoot me I'm going to take a few of them with me!” In the fright-passion-anger of the moment I armed myself also. All the same we were going toward our car to get away from the whole mess when some bullets hit the dirt around us. I turned to see who had done the shooting when I saw another police car coming at us. “Let's get out of---” I was saying when the whiz of a bullet inches from my ear cut short my voice. There was another and then another. I gnashed my teeth and opened fire on that damned police car. Both of us did. It was a temptation to shoot at the driver. I felt he had been shooting to kill me. As we pumped bullets into the car both of us must have shot away from the driver. I’m a bricklayer, not a hired gun. I can’t just shoot down a human being, shooting at me or not. The patrol car backed off. I don't think the driver had nearly as much courage backing off as he had driving up and shooting at anybody who happened to be moving. Somehow we had been maneuvered away from our car. I knew more police cars would arrive immediately. “Get rid of that gun,” Estevan said. Both of us threw our weapons on the ground and ran to find refuge where ever we could. We ran toward some houses with the hope of hiding until we could get to our car. We barged into one of the houses. Two women happened to be there when we stumbled in. I could see they were frightened. “I am extremely sorry,” I stammered. I didn't know them, they didn't know us. “Everybody is shooting at everybody at the courthouse,” I tried to explain. “Everybody's gone nuts.” “Yes,” one of the ladies said, “we’ve been hearing gunshots.” “We were running away from the whole thing,” I said, “and decided to hide so we wouldn't get shot. We'll leave the minute the firings stops.” The ladies said it would be all right. We've waited a for a while even after the shots had seemed to die down. We thanked the ladies and made a burning path to our car. Nobody seemed to be a around, least ways we didn't see anybody. Course, we didn't look too hard. We dived into the car and gunned it for all it was worth back to Canjilón. Right before Canjilón there was a police roadblock. They stopped us, my friend and I, searched us and the car. They didn't find anything. We were told to get moving out of the area. “My family is camping over there with the rest of the group,” I explained to the police. “You can't to go into the camp,” they informed me. “Nobody can go in and nobody can come out.” I explained that my wife was there with our six kids, that we had been searched, that we weren't a danger to anyone. “Get out of the area. Nobody is getting into that encampment.” There was absolutely no other choice: we got in our car and drove away. But the further we drove from Canjilón the worse I felt. “Stop the car,” I told Estevan. “I can't go and leave my family alone. Stop the car, I’m getting out.” “Somebody will shoot you,” Estevan said. “I’m not leaving my kids unprotected. Stop the car.” He did. “I’ll double back and come into camp from the back over the mountain.” I got out of the car and hurried off the road without looking back . (CONTINUED in # 7 below.) CASE STUDY # 8: [Cesar R., a very articulate, muscular, bespectacled man in his early forties. He spoke in Spanish.] At about 10:30 I arrived at the privately owned ranch where we were going on to have the barbecue there at the Canjilón area. The date was the 5th of June and my entire family was with me. We arrived, greeted the people already there, prepared the camp and then the noon meal. After eating it began to rain so a couple of men and I had ample opportunity to talk about the men, members of the Federal Alliance of Land Grants, who had been picked up for illegal assembly. One of the men suggested that we drive up to T A in order to find out what the bond was. We thought it was a good idea so three of us drove up in my car. When we got into town we headed for the court house, walked in and asked to see the District Attorney Alfonso Sánchez about the bond money. It was our understanding he had ordered the arrests so we felt he had also set bond. The person at the desk was telling us that the D.A. was not in the building when six or seven men entered with black silk masks covering the bottom parts of their faces. I don't know who they were, I had never seen them before and I didn't recognize them from their clothes. Some of them were wearing straw hats while others wore those little caps with small brims at the front. One of them had on a knit shirt. They were carrying those tiny Tommy guns or machine guns. I had never seen automatic weapons like those before. I thought the whole thing was absurd until shots began to ring out in the courthouse. The men in the black masks went into the other rooms of the court house and the shots rang out stronger and seemingly louder and closer. I dived to the floor and told the ladies and the two men to do the same. I was still on the floor when I saw some Alliance members come in. I yelled out for them to get down but the gunshots probably prevented them from a hearing me well. I made my way on my hands and knees over to the phone booth. I wanted to call for help but there was a man in the booth. I think he must have been some kind of reporter. When I saw I could not use the phone booth I got up on my feet and sprinted back to where I had been. The phone rang on one of the ladies’ desks but I suggested not to answer it yet because some hothead might burst in and think we were working against him. When the telephone stopped ringing I thought maybe it would be a good idea to use it since the phone booth was being used. Just then Francisco O. came into the room with a gun in his hand. He fired the gun until it was clicking empty, all of the time keeping it pointed toward the floor. “What are you doing?” I shouted. I was shook but good by that time. “I was pointing at the floor,” he remarked rather calmly. “Don't you realize a bullet could ricochet and hurt somebody” “This isn't going to hurt anybody.” “You used all the bullets, what are you going to do now? We are all at peace here,” I told him. “These are just blanks,” he informed me. “I am just trying to make noise.” He exited, presumably to go to some other part of the court house. I decided to try to use the phone booth again because it afforded some protection. The reporter was still there. I guess it wasn't really so long a time but it seemed like an eternity. The gun shots didn't show any sign of letting up as I waited by the booth for a minute. It was then that I saw Anastacio F. He had two men walking in front of him. “Get down on your knees,” he ordered. They did. “Look stupids, I don't even have any bullets in this gun.” He showed them the empty chambers but they didn't move, even after he walked away from them. (For all I know they’re still kneeling there.) I moved toward the other side of the room because I saw somebody lying on the floor but as I passed a window I heard the glass break. Somebody is shooting in from the outside! I thought to myself, so I went down and hugged the floor. As I think about it now I couldn't be certain if the bullet was coming in or going out. I was sure of one thing: not everybody was using blanks. I looked around for a way of getting out of the court house. I was afraid to go out the door if somebody was a shooting through the window. As I looked around I saw two men in black masks bringing down some man who was all bloodied-up. That did it. I had seen enough! I picked myself up and raced across the room toward an open window. Just before I threw myself through of the window somebody else, a man, did the same thing. I almost landed on top of him on the ground outside. “Please, please let me go!” said the man as we were getting up. “What?” I said. I didn't know the man. “POR FAVOR, I want to go home, I have to get home right away,” the man said it as he stood up straight. I came to my senses after my panic. I could see the man was as terrified as I had been. “Yes, go on ahead, go on home, just be careful,” I cautioned him. “Please, my wife is very sick, I have to get home,” the man pleaded. “Sir, I am not holding you. Go on home or wherever you wish, just get down so that---” Somebody shot at us with some kind of automatic weapon. We dived into the earth when we felt the bullets hit the wall above our heads. “Go home, sir, but don't make a target of yourself,” I told him as both of us scurried away in opposite directions. I crawled toward the river or arroyo that is there by the courthouse. I made it into the water without being fired upon anymore. I bathed my face and neck in the cool water. From the bank I turned to see what else was happening. I still heard gunshots. I saw two policeman running away toward the mountains being chased by two men. They made it to the mountains, or so in seemed to me. I saw the dust raised by bullets as they'd buried themselves in the walls of the various buildings and houses there at TA. I noticed that the bullets would die down from one side of the courthouse only to start up on the other side. Then I saw some of those individuals in the black masks charge out of the court house and blaze a path to sanctuary in the mountains. I guess more police were arriving as people started to leave the courthouse, I don't know. I decided to make a try for my car. I made it, found my two companions huddled under it, and we took off for Canjilón. “Who were those guys with the masks and machine guns?” I asked. One of my companions replied, “I can’t be sure but I’d bet they were from La Mano Negra.” “What in the world is la Mano Negra?” I asked as we sped down the road. At about that time some car passed us as if it was a rocket. “¿Qué es la Mano Negra?” I repeated. “You’d better speed up before they blockade the road,” said my other companion as another car went by us like a jet. “Then we’ll never get back to camp.” Then it finally hit me: I was at the Courthouse…I could be accused of shooting somebody! A bullet couldn’t have frightened me more. I could see me spending years in jail merely because I happened to be there. But I tried to reassure myself…neither I nor my companions had taken any guns into the Courthouse. I didn’t fire a single shot. The reporter in the phone booth saw me twice, he would be able to testify that I didn’t do any of the shooting. The people behind the desks, the men and the ladies, would be able to do the same. I calmed down a little. I had been taken by surprise at the Courthouse just as much as anybody else. We drove into the camp at the Canjilón ranch. We told some of the people what had just happened at T A . Somebody mentioned la Mano Negra, the Black hand again. I was told the Black Hand was a group of men who would go to any means, including murder, to get what they wanted. I was told they practiced witchcraft, witchcraft that always worked. I looked around the camp to see if I could recognize any of those men at the courthouse. There was nobody in camp who had been at T A, except me and my two companions. That shook me up just a little. Maybe an hour or so later the State Police arrived, held everybody at gunpoint, and refused to let anyone in or out. I’ve had time to think about the whole incident by now. I was an eyewitness to everything I described. I haven't talked about anything I myself didn't see. I believe the men wearing masks were not members of the Alianza. I have been in the organization for a long and time and I know most of the people in it. I can't say they were members of La Mano Negra because before that day I never knew such a thing existed. Whoever those men were, I believe they and the officials at the courthouse had it in for each other from happenings way before the events of June 5th. I think they were fighting an old fight that had nothing to do with the land issue. The police allegedly reported that there were about 30 bullet holes in the courthouse. If five gunshots rang out that afternoon I swear there were no less than 200 firearm and explosions. I would say that 200 would be the absolute minimum. If somebody in the Alianza was going to make a citizen’s arrest on the District Attorney it certainly wasn't me or the two people with me. We went up to see about the bond. I am not familiar with a citizen’s arrest but I understand a man in Albuquerque, a man named Luciano Chavez, was shot and killed by a policeman named Whitehouse after Chavez had been put under what amounted to a citizen’s arrest. I feel if I had put the D.A. under a citizen’s arrest I would probably have been thrown into jail, while the person who "arrested” Chavez, somebody Hassinger, I think, will be vindicated since Whitehouse killed Chavez because of whatever happened, supposedly. I would be willing to bet there was something between the policeman who was shot up at T A and the person who shot him. I would bet there is more to the story than the public knows or reads in the newspaper. If the people really were kidnapped up at T A, something that has to be proved in court, I guess, nothing happened to any of them. At any rate, nothing that I know of. But I would bet that anybody who happened to be at the courthouse at T A on June 5th will be charged with a major crime and, courts being what they are, most of the people charged will serve time in jail. CASE STUDY # 9 [Flavio Z., a short, stocky, individualistic man in his early fifties. He spoke in Spanish and English.] When they arrested and jailed these people for the allegedly unlawful assembly a group of us got together to raise the bond and bail them out. Sunday morning, June 4th, we had everything in order so we went up to Santa Fe with the idea of bailing them out. We were informed that the district attorney Alfonso Sánchez or the U.S. marshal Emilio Naranjo had to sign the bond papers. We looked all over but couldn't find either one of them. We went as far as 0jo Caliente looking for either of them but to no avail: nobody knew where they were, supposedly. We spent the entire day searching because we had everything except the signature necessary to get our friends out of jail. I guess of this signature rule is the law, I don't know. Anyway, we talked to Bennie Naranjo, the sheriff of Río Arriba County. It turned out he could sign of the paper there at a Española. He did, whereupon we hightailed it back to Santa Fe. There we were told that we had to have a release for each person on a the different piece of paper per person. Since the document we had carried all of the names it was worthless. It was 10:00 at night but I asked the policemen at the desk, “If we go back to Española and get one release for each of these people will you honor it when we get back?” He said no, that it was getting too late. Well, we hadn't eaten anything all day, we were completely worn out, so we decided to grab a bite to eat and returned to Albuquerque. That's what we did. The following day, June 5th, we returned at about two in the afternoon. It turned out the bondsman was eating or something so we dropped by the City Hall to see if we could talk to the men in jail. They informed us the men had already been set free. Very elated, we were returning to Albuquerque when down the road a ways coming toward Albuquerque from Santa Fe we saw a road block of about eight state police cars. They stopped us, ordered us out of the car, searched everything, even under the hood. They searched us up and down, this side and that. “We'll have to take you downtown to investigate you,” one of them said. They put me in a police car with three policemen. I told them, “Its a shame that three policemen are needed it to take in a man in his fifties to be investigated. All you had to do was tell me to come in and I would have come willingly. All this scandal isn't necessary.” We all walked into the city hall and we hadn't hardly stopped walking when one of the officers, a blondie sitting behind a typewriter, said, “You, you, and you are under $5,000 bond.” “I thought the charge came first,” I said. “What were we doing?” “Because you were inciting a riot,” he replied They threw all three of us in jail. We've learned about the events in T A via the grapevine. The radio in the car we were driving wasn't working so we knew absolutely nothing about the goings on in the north. We weren't even traveling toward the north to where maybe somebody could think, these guys are going up to cause more trouble. But we were driving south toward Albuquerque. Inciting a riot! DIOS MIO! And A $5,000 bond just for safe keeping. We spent two days and two nights in jail. Here we had tried to get some men out of jail and we land there ourselves. Kind of the funny now. The minute my lawyer called up we were out of the can and all charges were dropped. At any rate, I guess they've been dropped. I haven't heard anything else about them. But they had served their purpose: we were kept out of circulation, we were frightened into silence for a while. But for next time…a perro viejo no hay tustus. CASE STUDY # 10 [Roberto J., a National Guardsman from Albuquerque. He is a land grant heir himself.] Late Monday afternoon, June 5, I was called from the Armory here in Albuquerque. We were to assemble at 8:30. Although I wasn’t told about the purpose I assumed it had something to do with the Tierra Amarilla incidents. When all the men were together in the Armory we were informed that we would pull out of Albuquerque at 11:30 that night, that we were heading north. CASE STUDY # 11 [Juan C., outwardly calm and self-possessed, but fiery when aroused. A rancher in northern New Mexico, he is about fifty or so. He spoke in Spanish.] The camp where the June 5th picnic was taking place is private property. I have my documents, my abstract, the receipts for all taxes. The entire ranch is a free and clear of any and all liens. It is my ranch. But when the State Police arrived they pulled up as if it was their own private playground. They drove in in a cloud of dust. Those on foot jumped fences, they pointed guns and rifles as if they were in the jungles of Vietnam. I was getting ready to butcher a sheep for the barbecue when the invasion first attracted my attention. I walked over to the group of police, told them to put their guns away, that I personally would insure their safety. One of them said, “Come over here Juan.” I did, extended my hand to shake his, and as he took it I felt something hard pressed into my back. I turned to see the blue steel of a rifled barrel. Another policeman grabbed the knife I was going to use in the butchering of the sheep. I guess he thought I was going to attack the State Police with a butcher knife. The police commenced to ask questions, put gun barrels in our faces. They searched all the buildings and especially my house where they moved beds, looked underneath, searched closets, pantries, chests of drawers, the whole works. They impounded some of the cars and trucks that had been left on my property. I don't remember what reason they gave… fact is I don't even remember if they gave a reason, everything was happening so fast. I feel the State Police showed nothing but scorn and disdain for my private property. But there are wasn't anything I could do about it: they had all the guns. CASE STUDY # 12 [Ambrosio U---, a broad shouldered mustachioed man of about forty. A WW II veteran, he spoke in Spanish.] I was with my nephew and niece at the Canjilón picnic. I’d say there were about 40 people there, mostly women and children. Maybe there were about a dozen men in the camp. At about 5:00 we saw on a State policeman coming into the field. One of the men in the group waved his white hat at him, waved him into the camp. The policemen came in looking everywhere at once, it seemed. He had his rifle trained toward a group. You’d think he was going into some sort of combat. He talked, no, growled, in a very menacing tone of voice and about that time another policemen came at us from behind. I didn't have any idea as to what was happening. We were just on a picnic, looking forward to the barbecue. “Put your hands on your heads, everybody!” ordered the policeman. “Go to that open spot where there aren't any trees.” We did. “Everybody kneel so you can be searched!” There were many policemen on the scene by then. CASE STUDY # 13 [Rudolfo G.---, a very soft spoken man of about middle age.] When the state police surrounded us and told us all to kneel and put our hands on our heads I told one of them that I was disabled in such of way as to prevent me from kneeling. The policeman said it, “I don't care, you'd better kneel!” He pointed his rifle directly at me. I can’t kneel, it is too painful, so I had to lay on the ground in order to be searched. CASE STUDY # 14 [Gabriel L.---, rather thin and pale, a man of about forty-five.] Right after they made us march up on the side of the hill where they investigated us I felt the need to use the restroom. I have a urinary affliction that makes me need the restroom very often. I asked one of the policemen if I could at least go behind one of the walls so that children and women and men wouldn't have to watch. In a very angry voice the policeman growled Urinate right where you are. Well, I had no choice. I tried to turn away as best I could. The same thing happened again while the police had their guns on us. When one of the photographers came to take pictures none of us wanted them taken. One policemen came and tore off my hat so my picture could be taken then afterward he put it back on me by shoving it down over my ears. I am disabled to the point that I can't work. I even need a cane to walk around with. The policeman was certain I could not defend myself. CASE STUDY # 12 [Continued: Ambrosio U.] About that time some trucks drove up and out sprang what turned out to be National Guardsmen. Immediately they surrounded us and there we were in the center of all those state police and national guards with their guns pointing at us. We were nervous and worried before but you can imagine how we felt then. ¡HIJO! I didn’t know what to think anymore. We were searched for guns but they didn't find any because we didn't have any. I had gone up there for a picnic, nothing else. I didn't go up to shoot it out with anybody, least of all the police and the guardsmen. If I had thought about having trouble I certainly wouldn't have taken the children. The only weapon the search produced was a small pocket knife with about an inch blade on it, the kind you clean your finger nails with. After the search they started with the infernal questioning: What are you doing here? Who is in charge here? What business do you have here? I tried to explain about the barbecue, the picnic, camping out, but they wouldn't buy in. They said something about looking for trouble, about starting trouble, about taking over by violence, I don't remember what. They could see there were mostly women and children. They hadn't found any firearms or ammunition, as far as I knew. But no, we couldn't just be people on a barbecue, that would make them the laughingstock of the state of New Mexico. We were still in the barbed wire fence corral when its started to rain. Everybody was getting soaked so one of the guard leaders said “Go over by the side of the house so you won't get so wet.” We stood under the eaves but there were so many people involved some of us were still getting soaked by the run-off. Somebody ordered us to get in the garage. We were herded in only to find a car in it. It was a one car garage and the car was in it so you can imagine how much room there was. Half of the people were told to get into the adjoining building. This was where the sheep were put in extremely cold weather, I guess. There was all sorts of manure in the place. The roof on it sheltered us from the rain, true, but nothing sheltered us from the animal droppings on the floor. I would never have gone in there of my own accord, rain or no rain. Guns of the law was the only thing that made me stay in there. (Continued in # 12 below.) CASE STUDY # 15 [Elvira L---, mother of three children. She spoke in a very calm manner, in Spanish.] The garage wasn’t large enough but we squeezed in around the car. The wind began to blow, thus revealing many cracks in the walls. The wind on my wet clothes made it very cold. You couldn’t avoid touching the walls of the garage, it was so crowded, and big chunks of plaster would fall off. The garage was made of wood, it was very old. The way we were crowded in we couldn’t help but be against the walls. There were a couple of little babies in the group, you know, about eight or nine months. I told María to ask the Guards if they would let her go to camp for some coats or blankets, especially for the babies. She asked one of he Guards and she went with him right behind her. I’m glad they let her go. It was very cold. CASE STUDY # 12 [Continued; Ambrosio U.] When the rain stopped one of the big wheel Guards came and said, “We want all of you to get in these paddy wagons so we can transport you.” The wagon was backed up and we got in. I don’t know the capacity of one of those wagons. The seats got full right away so they put people on the floor. If we were crowded in the garage and manure place you should have seen us in that wagon. And just for good measure they closed the doors on us. We were freezing in the garage but after a little while in the wagon with the doors slammed tight we were roasting and suffocating. We asked the man in the cab to please turn on the air conditioner but he shook his head and said “No.” Talk about being nervous…this was the worst time for me…I needed a smoke real bad but it was out of the question. Air for breathing was scarce enough and the smoke would have poisoned even more. We asked to turn on the radio so we could find out what was happening. The man in the cab refused again. We were in the wagon for maybe an hour when a man in civilian clothes opened the door. He had a tablet or notebook in his hand. First thing he asked was “Who’s the leader here?” The little kids started crying, everybody was hungry, it was pitch black outside. We told him again there wasn’t any leader, the same thing we had told him a hundred times. He said “We’re not going to take you to jail after all…” for I don’t know what reason or something. “The National Guard is going to take your names for roll call in the morning. After your names have been taken go get in line over there.” The Guardsmen had their rifles in hand as others took our names. When they finally finished they told us “You can go down to your camp and get your food to eat. You can build small fires…not too big or we’ll put all of them out. All fires have to be dead by 11 o’clock.” We did what they said. (Continued in # 12 below.) CASE STUDY # 6 [Continued; Dolores V.] I’d say it was about 9:30 when the state police took me away from the rest of the people in Canjilón. Maybe we got to Santa Fe at 10:00 p.m. or thereabouts. All the time the cop would be asking me, “Where is Reies Tijerina? And I would answer “I don't know.” When I saw all the tanks and war machinery they had there at the entrance to Canjilón I told the cop driving: “Where do you guys think you're going, Vietnam? Do you need to call out to the whole tribe of National Guard's and the state police just to catch a half dozen guys? Where are your Indian Scouts?” “Shut up,” said the cop. “Your people murdered one of our men. Keep your comments to yourself.” He got madder when I laughed but I didn't say anything else. The state police are such big brave men, you know. When we arrived in Santa Fe, my baby and I and the cop, they charged me with the kidnapping and murder, I don't remember the exact wording. They didn't tell me who I kidnapped or who I had murdered. They got my fingerprints, took my picture, everything like they do with all criminals, I guess. They then they took my baby and put her in the welfare home. Everything before that was all nonsense and I knew it, but when they took my little baby… They put me in jail, the same wing where the men were jailed. I was so embarrassed. As we were walking to my cell one of the prisoners had just stepped out of the shower. “You should at least let me know if your bringing a woman in here,” he said in Spanish. I was in a sell up by myself but men were in the cells at next to me. I guess they think women criminals don't mind been in cells next two men. When they questioned me they'd always be trying to find out where Reies Tijerina was. There wasn't a woman present any of the times they questioned me. Somebody told me later that there should have been. They did give me permission to make one telephone call so I called my aunt and uncle in Albuquerque to come and get my baby out of the welfare home. I didn't want her spending the night there. But they wouldn't let my aunt get the baby. They said it was too late at night for that. (Continued in # 6 below.)
CASE STUDY # 7 [Continued; Alejandro B.] I walked in the mountains for maybe five or six hours. During this time I saw helicopters patrolling the area. I’d hide every time I saw one of those noisy nosey birds. They never saw me, although they flew real low, as far as I could figure out. Those mountains could hide an army. They’re beautiful, so green and clean and free. I was close to the camp when from the top of a hill I heard the police talking through a loudspeaker. I wasn’t close enough to hear the words distinctly, it was more like a mumbling murmur through the trees. I came very close to the camp within a few minutes. I was so close I could see my wife cooking over the camp fire. I could see my kids around the fire. I thought as to how to slip into camp unnoticed. I stalked the remaining distance, hiding behind this tree and that when I saw somebody, a man in some kind of uniform. It wasn’t a policeman, not that kind of uniform. I was about five yards behind the man…he had his back to me, I came closer…about four or five feet behind him…I saw no other way of getting into camp so I said, almost whispered… “Hey.” HE TURNED WITH A START! “Who…who are you?!” He gasped as he leveled his rifle at me, point blank. “I’m the father of those kids over there by that fire,” I explained. “I—“ The sound of the bullet going into the chamber was the loudest thunder I ever heard. Immediately I raised both hands high into the air. He was so scared I thought he’d open fire. “I’m not armed, I’m one of the picnickers,” I told him hurriedly, “DON’T SHOOT.” What’s your name?! Hollered out the guy. I told him. Then my wife came running up. “Don’t shoot, DON’T SHOOT, HE’S MY HUSBAND” she screamed. Some of the other people came up then, saying they knew me, telling him not to shoot. Thank God he didn’t. He marched me over to the house where the police had their headquarters. I saw that the other men were from the National Guard, the first time I had noticed somebody other than police were involved. The police tied my arms with ropes behind my back. They threw me in a car and took me to the ranger station. I would guess this was about nine or ten o’clock, the night of June 5. There were two policemen in the car with me, both of them were gringos. One of them said over the car radio: “We’ve got one of the fifteen-centers with us.” The ropes were tied extremely tight, they were cutting off my “fifteen-center” circulation. When we got to the ranger station they began to “investigate.” They hadn’t charged me with anything, they didn’t inform me as to my rights, nothing like that. They asked me question after question. I told them what had happened to me but they weren’t satisfied. They wanted to learn where Reies was, had I shot the policeman, where the other people were…I told them I didn’t know so they started again. There was one main policeman, I don’t know his name but I’ll know him the next time I see him. Later they sent a man back to bring in my wife for questioning. When she arrived they began asking her all sorts of questions. They kept her there till about three in the morning when they finally returned her to the six children left alone at the camp. They wouldn’t let me go, I spent the remaining night there. The next morning they took me, arms bound with ropes behind my back, to the Santa Fe jail. The ropes were so tight I though my arms would start bleeding. On those winding roads I rolled from side to side every time we hit a curve, my tied arms preventing me from holding on to something. You’d think the police were going to a fire, they drove like maniacs. You’d think it was Korea or Vietnam. They treated me like a mongrel dog getting kicked around in some back alley. The police didn’t advise me as to my constitutional rights. What kind of rights do the State Police give you when they think you’re a “fifteen-center”?
CASE STUDY # 16 [Domingo G., about thirty-eight years old. This man was still angry over the incident he experienced.] I have a home in the Hernández area. On the evening of June 5, I don’t remember what time it was, there were some loud raps on the door. I opened it to find a group of men and soldiers. They began to ask questions in rapid fire succession, one of which was “Are you a member of the Federal Alliance of Land Grants?” I answered in the affirmative. “We’ve got to search your house,” the man said, whereupon some National Guards and some police (I guess they were police) entered my home and started searching. What are you looking for?” I asked them. “Have you seen Reies Tijerina?” “No, I haven’t,” I replied. “It’s for sure he’s not here.” “We’re gong to see for ourselves,” the guy told me. They looked in every room, every closet, under the beds, even in the chests of drawers. They really began to irritate me. “You won’t find Reies in a drawer,” I told them. “Do you have any ammunition in the house?” somebody asked me as he took down some information. I don’t know what he was writing. “No, I don’t have any but—“ “Why do you have those rifles over there?” Those are antiques, they haven’t been shot in years,” I explained. “Those rifles are so old they probably can’t even shoot anymore.” “We have to take them with us,” another man informed me. “Have you got an attic or a cellar?” I told them I didn’t but they made me go outside and prove there was no entrance from outside. They checked the premises on the outside, all the time firing questions, then suddenly they disappeared into the night. And that was it. They took my antique rifles, they moved beds around, checked the closets, moved clothes in drawers. SANTO NINO. My family and I were scared to death they’d confiscate us too with their ARE YOU NOW OR HAVE YOU EVER BEEN A MEMBER OF THE FEDERAL ALLIANCE OF LAND GRANTS? They didn’t have a search warrant, or if they did they didn’t bother to show it to me. They didn’t need a warrant, they had guns and badges. They just said, “We’ve got to search your house,” and they did. By God I’m mad now! I’d like to see those pinches try it again! The Constitution? The Bill of Rights? Illegal search and seizure? Who the hell declared martial law, Moshe Jolly or Secretary of Defense McBlack? Maybe it was King Alfonso the first from the District-Attorneydom of Santa Fe or was Vice President Cargo the genius behind the mess. Nobody is ever searching my house again without legal authority, by God, I’ll promise you that!
CASE STUDY # 17: [Carmela D., the mother of two children incarcerated at the Canjilón camp. She spoke in both languages.] Everything had been ready to leave for Coyote but when we heard that people were being arrested we decided not to risk it. We learned that someone had offered his ranch as the site for another barbecue so we planned to attend that. The children went with my brother-in-law since they were very eager to camp out. I was going to follow along later. So they went up on the morning of the June 5th. That afternoon I heard a news bulletin about some “raiders” up at Tierra Amarilla, at the Courthouse. The newscaster didn't seem to know if it was a jailbreak, a raid, or what. But I didn't worry very much because I knew my children were in Canjilón, not Tierra Amarilla. At about 5:30 I turned on the television to see the news. ¡Dios Mío! My God, you don't know the terror that struck me when I saw my own children on television surrounded by policemen and National Guards. I burst into tears and sobbed even more when the news man said nobody could enter or leave the encampment. Later I tried to control myself. I tried to tell myself that maybe those people at T A were attacking the camp, that the guards and police were only trying to help. I heard something about “protective custody” and tried to believe it was all for their own good, that they would be escorted home, that they would all arrive home shortly. I waited on through the night. I thought of my children and all those people with their hands on their heads. The News said they were being held in a sheep pen. The News said it was raining to the north. I had never heard of protective custody before this. I spent the night of June 5th crying, listening to the news, telling myself everything was going to be all right, and crying some more.
CASE STUDY # 12 [Continued: Ambrosio U.] I was so upset…the kids were crying, the women were terrified…I couldn’t eat supper that night. Everybody went to bed but I for one couldn’t sleep much until the wee hours of the morning. Wherever I looked there was a guardsman with his rifle pointing, threatening. I still didn’t know what it was all about, that was the worst part. The next morning, Tuesday, June 6th, I was up early, about 5:00. I built a fire and noticed there were many more guardsmen than last night. Evidently reinforcements had come in during the night. Everything was still silent, calm like in the early morning hours. In time all the people woke up and began to prepare breakfast. We've had used up the water we had brought so I told one of the kids to fetch some. Isabel said she'd go. She yelled for the guard. They had ordered us to call while we were 20 ft. away, no closer. The guard went with her. She returned with this is terrible looking green, muddy water. The pond where the water came from was where the animals drank, the sheep and the cattle. I said to the girl: "Look, there's a spring or a well up a little higher, why didn't you get clean water?” She replied that the guard had said the only water available was from the pond. Well, what was I to do. I made coffee with the water but it tasted terrible. I don't know how to express it. We tried to drink the coffee but I was afraid some cows or sheep might have got in it. The more I looked at it, the more I thought about it. Well, we wound up not drinking any. I fried some eggs but I couldn't eat.
CASE STUDY # 14 [Continued: Gabriel L.] The water was muddy because of the rain. Since cattle and sheep roamed all over the hill there was all lot of manure and this little pond was made so that the rainwater would drain into it. We strained the water through a clean cloth and then we boiled the it but it still didn't taste like ordinary drinking water. It still had a taste. I and didn't see a single Guardsmen or policeman drinking the water from the pond.
CASE STUDY # 18[Maria N., fourteen years old. She spoke in English.] That Monday night if you had to go to the restroom you had to holler GUARD and they would go with you after giving you permission. Only one at a time could go. What I didn't like is that the restrooms, the outhouse, had the door half way off and that three Guardsmen always went out with you. You were using the of the restroom and they would be right there. That wasn't very nice. But there was in no way out of it, they wouldn't let you go by yourself, even if you were a girl. Most of the cops were Spanish speaking. We would talk to them in Spanish, we always have, and they would use Spanish too. I stayed with these two other girls in their truck and there would be all these Guardsmen passing by all the time. One time these two cops came and lifted the flap to the camper we were in and asked for some lady. I don't know who she was, I had never even heard her name before. We told them she was not here. They asked who we were so we told them all our names. They said "Okay" and left. The next morning they made as get water from this pond where the sheep and cattle drank. There were little fish in there, fish or tadpoles. The water was sort of greenish, a kind of dirty green, and it didn't taste good, but they wouldn't let us get water from anyplace else. Tuesday, during the day, they assigned us a little area that we were supposed to play. I was suspicious because they wouldn't let us play the radio. We all wanted to hear what had happened and they refused to tell us why they were holding us so I was very suspicious of the whole thing. I was very scared every time they changed the guards because they would put their bayonets toward us. But then after standing there for a while they would relax and not point their rifles at us. Then I would stare at first one guard then another. They would get nervous when I stared. They would light a cigarette, throw it away half smoked, they would constantly be changing the gum they were chewing, just acting real nervous. It seemed to me as if they were embarrassed, you know, as if they knew that you don't have to call out the National Guard when some people go on a picnic. They paced up and down, got new gum and cigarettes, they wouldn't even look me in the eyes after a while. I was beginning to think they were pretty good guys, really, underneath all their efforts to play soldier, until they asked us if we wanted a new bathroom. We said OK and then they told us they would dig a hole over to the side of where we were and we could go to the restrooms there. Well, it was right in the open, nobody was going to use it. That wasn't very considerate. The whole thing got me scared because I wasn't expecting anything. I wasn't expecting policemen or soldiers with bayonets or people taking pictures. Those reporters with their stupid cameras really bugged me. Anything we did they would take pictures of us, making food, playing dodge ball, anything at all. I would put down my head so they couldn't take my picture and then they would kneel down. I would turn around and they would turn around too. I would turn the other way and they would too. I told them "I don't want my picture taken, I won't have it taken. But they didn't care because the State Police and National Guard were there to protect them and let them take as many pictures as they wanted. One thing they did it with the pictures was at take out the sheep from the corral and take them to drink water from the pond. You see, the owner wasn't there and I guess they wanted to show him that they had taken good care of the sheep by letting them drink water. Well, they took pictures of the sheep going to drink but once the pictures had been taken they ran the sheep back without letting them drink. They didn’t give them any time to drink, just enough time to take pictures.
I’ll bet they gave us their groady C rations so they could take pictures of us so later they could prove they took real good care of us, that they weren't trying to hurt anybody. But we didn't want their groady C rations in the first place and we didn't eat any. Just before they let us go Joe Black himself begged us to take the C rations with us then later on the road home one of his own State cops took one of the boxes away from Fabian, saying. we couldn't take government property. What a bunch of groads.
CASE STUDY # 19[Gary T., a fifteen year old boy. He spoke English.]When we had to go get the dumb water, the green one, only one person could go at any time. I am no strong person myself, but I had to carry one of those 5 gallon cans full of water. I got sick from drinking that water. Those National Guards were something else. They wouldn't help us carry the water. We had to yell GUARD when we got within 20 ft. of them. When we were playing dodge ball sometimes the ball would run off in their direction. We didn't do it on purpose, the ball gets away sometimes during a game. But they'd get all mad and warned of us not to do it again, as if they were going to be attacked or something. They acted real tough with their helmets and rifles and bayonets but one time when they took the sheep out there was a group of four little goats that didn't get back in the corral. There were three Guardsmen over there making their camp where the little goats were running. The guards seemed as if they were going to run away if the little goats charged at them. We asked them, some of us boys, we asked them if they wanted us to put those kids back in the corral. I could see they got kinda got ticked off. They said no, that they would manage, but they were scared of those little goats!
CASE STUDY # 12 [Continued: Ambrosio U.] I went to talk to some of the other people in the group. We wanted to turn on a radio so we could find out what was happening but we were ordered that turning on any radio was strictly prohibited for some I-don't-know-what reason. They started asking more questions. More National Guardsmen arrived. These new guys had bayonets on their rifles. I don't know what they were prepared for, some great big war maybe. National Guardsmen for a picnic! I would have laughed if I had been seeing it on television. Bayonets. The only thing they didn't have was tanks. Some reporters arrived when we were eating. They started taking pictures of everybody. We told them we didn't want our pictures taken but they took them anyway. I had half a mind to take their cameras away but I was a bit outnumbered. As I look at it now, what bothered me the most was that I didn’t know what had happened. You’d think SOMEBODY would have explained but nobody did. To this day I don't understand why somebody didn't take the trouble to inform us on why we were surrounded by police and guards, why we were being held. Even the corral and the garage and the green drinking water didn't bother me as much as being surrounded by armed men, thinking that any minute someone might shoot somebody for some unexpected step or action. They knew we couldn't defend ourselves, they knew we didn't have any guns. I'd guess they knew they didn't have to tell us anything either. Tuesday afternoon the Guards’ rifles didn’t seem to be pointed at us as much as toward the ground. They even brought us boxes of C Rations and said, “Here, this is for you all. Distribute them among all of you and eat all you want. And if you want more we'll bring more.” They had broken the law and they knew it so now they were trying to buy us off. They come and keep you under rifle and bayonet for a whole day and then call it even when they give you some C Rations. You could tell they were embarrassed, but no, they couldn't admit they had made a bad mistake, the Law never makes mistakes. We told them we didn't want their lousy C Rations, we just left them there where they put them. At about 5:00 that Tuesday afternoon they suddenly told us we were free to go. Just like that. Not a single “Sorry, wrong group,” not “Sorry about this, you know how it is.” They didn't say, “You Americans are free to go.” They didn't say, “You Spanish Americans are free to go.” They didn't even say, “You communists are free to go.” Just, you’re free to go. I get angry now but at the time we were so jubilant that we threw everything in our cars and trucks. We didn't pack anything, we just shoved everything in before the State Police changed their mind again. I wanted to get home and listen to the news to find out what the Sam Hill had happened. I thought maybe we might have gone to war with Germany or Russia or something like that. Then somebody said we could take the C Rations with us. I told him I didn't want them but the guy begged so much and I was in no mood to argue so I threw them in with the other gear so they wouldn't keep us there anymore. As we drove down the road the State Police had a roadblock. They searched the entire car and took the C Rations saying, “You can't confiscate government property,” or something like that, I don't know exactly. I’ll bet they could have arrested us for stealing some Rations if they had wanted to. At the entrance to Canjilón I saw all the big convoy for the first time. When I saw those two great big tanks, their cannons pointing toward the mountains. . . I don't know how to express that. HIJO, those guys were ready for a big war that was going to last for months! They had those tanks of water, and for gasoline, a regular big convoy. I was in the service during the war, I fought the Germans in France and Germany. I saw service in Italy and Czechoslovakia too so I know a convoy when see one. I thought about the little pocket knife they had found back in camp when I saw the cannons on the tanks. I got the hell out of there as fast as I could.
CASE STUDY # 10 [Continued: Roberto J., a Guardsman] We moved out at the designated time and were told that our specific rendezvous point would be El Rito. Just before arriving at El Rito we were issued our ammunition: we had M-1 ammunition only, eight rounds per man. We were instructed NOT to fire our weapons at anything or anybody unless we were first fired upon. It was also made crystal clear that if anybody was fired upon we were to return the fire only in such a way as to disable the other person or persons shooting at us. Only as an absolute last resort were we to shoot to kill. We were told that they didn’t want anybody hurt or killed, but if the Guard was absolutely certain his particular life was in danger he was to shoot to kill. These were the orders from higher headquarters. We made our base camp five miles on the other side of El Rito, right at the foot of the mountains. It was June 6. I believe it was about six in the morning when we finished making camp. In my particular group there were sixty men. We were sent out in teams of six Guardsmen for each of the five jeeps. The men who marched into the mountains were in groups of ten. The remaining men were placed on local security duty around our camp. I happened to be one of the Guards in a jeep. We patrolled the mountain roads that were anywhere close to being passable. We encountered five or six vehicles. We stopped them, checked their identification, and allowed them to continue on their way since everything was in order. At the town of El Rito I knew there was a blockade where everyone going into or coming out of the mountains was searched for weapons. To the best of my knowledge not one single weapon was discovered in our area. On that first day, June 6, we found no weapons on the people we met and we drew no fire from anyone. The second day we were there we went through the mountains with the Forest Rangers. The Rangers had a pickup in which we put four Guards plus a jeep following. We went through all the roads they showed us and searched all the cabins we found. None of the cabins had any people in them nor did we see any weapons. This is how we spent the whole day, except for noon when we returned to our camp to chow down. At the end of the day we returned t |