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Desert Dispatch Vol. 29

PHOTO OF THE WEEK: The Porch by Tony Drewry
PHOTO OF THE WEEK: The Porch by Tony Drewry. Each week, we'll feature a different image from a listener or staff member. Send your snapshots to photos@marfapublicradio.org.

We've got a guest writer for the Dispatch this week - writer and Terlingua resident Betty Moore on what might be the Big Bend's most iconic porch.

What if every small town had a “living room” where all the residents were welcome to gather with their dogs and their friends to drink beer, tell stories, play music or simply to enjoy the company of their neighbors? Terlingua is the only place I know that has just that, and it’s called The Porch. It runs across the front of the main building which houses the Trading Company and the Starlight Theatre.

There are several old wooden benches, shiny from decades of sitting butts, and a sign reading “No Dogs Allowed on Porch,” which is largely ignored. The patch of different colored paint where an old pay phone was removed speaks to a time when that was our only means of contact with the outside world. The ancient thermometer on the wall has been replaced by a newer digital model.

The porch is the best place in the whole Big Bend to view the stunning Chisos Mountains, thirty miles to the east in the park. They abruptly rise more than a mile above the desert floor, reaching for the sky. Every day at sunset they put on a spectacular show as the setting sun paints the mountains in shades of orange, pink, and purple.

When I moved to Terlingua in the early 80’s, the Far Flung Adventures office was in the main building along with the Trading Company. The old Starlight Theatre no longer had a roof, and its adobe walls were slowly melting away. The population of town, mostly river guides, could be counted on fingers.

When we weren’t hiking in the desert or taking folks down the river, we gathered on the porch to drink a beer, share conversations or just hang. Like birds on a wire, we sat on the benches, staring out across the badlands at the mountains. The porch was where we lived out our lives. Someone might be picking a guitar and singing while we played hacky sack in the parking lot. Often, Catfish would be cutting someone’s hair. Friends got married there. We put on plays on the stage of the roofless Starlight. It was an idyllic life. We were family.

Topics of conversation revolved around construction, as everyone seemed to be building a house. Then there was talk of dinosaur bones that Ken Barnes had discovered across the highway. Or sightings of rattlesnakes, mountain lions or other wildlife. But the most important topic was the weather, and of course, the level of water in the Rio Grande. None of us could have imagined the changes that were about to come.

In 1991 the Starlight got a new roof, and soon became the most popular restaurant in south county. Tourist season, which had been the spring and fall months, was now year round. In the late afternoon visitors would fill the porch, lining up to put their names on a waiting list at the Starlight then wait on the porch, sometimes for hours, until their names were called. A few porch locals began to feel a bit squeezed and moved their chairs to the east side of the porch under a sign that reads: “Reserved: Wise Old Guys”. Others colonized the gas shack in the parking lot.

In those years musicians found a home on the porch. They dragged their instruments up the steps for lively impromptu jams. Visitors were always welcome to join in. It wasn’t unusual for famous pickers to drop in for a few songs. It was and still is, legendary. That hasn’t changed.

And there are still times when the porch is completely empty, like in the middle of the summer on a hundred degree-plus day. At these times, I sometimes find myself wandering up to the porch to sit alone and watch the changing colors of the mountains at sunset. And at those times, I swear, I can faintly hear the voices and the laughter of times gone by.

- Betty Moore

Betty Moore on the porch by Tony Drewry
Betty Moore on the porch by Tony Drewry

Caló

Manchada - in modern Spanish it means to stain. In Caló, it means to denigrate, deprecated or slight oneself, which is an unsightly, possibly even traumatizing event to witness. People can put a mancha on themselves without intending it. They can be merely stupid or venal about it, maybe even think they got away with something. But the people who witness their act walk away, perhaps silently, thinking less of them. A vendor short-changes you: manchada. You forget your date’s name, manchada. Caught cheating or in a lie, manchada

Caló is a borderland dialect. You can find more episodes here.


Other programming:

The state of Texas purchased a massive Brewster County ranch near Big Bend National Park in November for $81 million less than the land was originally listed for sale, according to records obtained by Marfa Public Radio. The Brewster Ranch is an assortment of smaller Big Bend area ranches that were pieced together by former owner Brad Kelley and had been for sale for about five years. The news of its sale marked a significant acquisition of land for the GLO, which already manages about 13 million acres of land and mineral rights across the state. Travis Bubenik has more on that, here.

Mountain lions, black bears, bighorn sheep, working cowboys – the list of charismatic West Texas creatures is long. For reptile lovers, that list certainly includes the western hognose snake. It’s a popular pet across the U.S., and is bred extensively in captivity. Ease of handling is part of the appeal, but it’s the snake’s strange, shovel-like face that’s the real clincher. The hognose also has a host of fascinating behaviors. Its reclusiveness only adds to its charisma. That’s on this week's Nature Notes.

The western hognose snake.
Dr. Corey Roelke
The western hognose snake.

High Five

In honor of this porch dispatch, here are 5 songs via Lisa Kettyle's show, From the Porch:

  1. Dance into the Sea - The Paper Moon Shiners
  2. A Lack of Color - Death Cab For Cutie
  3. The Moonlight Song - Blaze Foley
  4. Relic of the Rain - Ordinary Element
  5. I'll be Here in the Morning - Townes Van Zandt

You can find DJ Dr. Love's entire show on our Mixcloud.


PSAs

Help spread holiday cheer by joining a group of carolers in song during an evening walk through the Davis Mountains State Park.

Come join park staff and students from Fort Davis High School as we sing seasonal carols for our camping guests. We will meet at the Interpretive Center, then walk through several campsite loops.

Meet at the Interpretive Center a little before 6:30 p.m. You may park in the overflow area across the street.

Bring your singing voice and good cheer, a flashlight, and warm layers. This event is free and open to the public.

If you have PSAs you want on the air or in this newsletter, head to www.marfapublicradio.org/psa.