Chapter VIII - The City of Illumination

Uncle Ron’s initial reaction was a “Kodak Moment” I only wish I had a camera to capture. The entire operation had worked flawlessly and was well worth the trip.
As we gathered in the house I got my first look and impressions of what it was like to be in the Southwest. It was a modest two story town home with mosaic tile floors, a fireplace in the living room, ceiling to floor windows, hand woven rugs and art work from local talent. The kitchen though small overlooked the dining area and a view of the garden with its covered patio and walkway that led to the garage. Everywhere there were plants, some potted and some hanging from the ceiling. Upstairs there were three bedrooms including the master bedroom with its own baconey that offered a view of the buildings in the heart of the city. There was a small telescope on a tripod and it seemed ready for viewing as the moon rose in the east.
For being the largest city in New Mexico, it was relatively quiet except for a helicopter that was nearing a building to my left and landed on the roof of a hospital nearby. Oddly there were no sirens or honking car horns, no loud music from neighbors or any of the usual sounds you often learn to ignore but are always aware of in most metropolitan areas.
As we gathered in the dining area and got comfortable we spent the next several hours drinking wine and reliving the past with Nana and Granddad and growing up in Philadelphia. Rhonda and I told him the story of how we planned and plotted our surprise trip here perhaps embellishing just a little the sequence of events that had brought us together. To add to the surprise I took out the pictures I had brought with me of Nana and Granddad and other family members as well as photographs of my children and grandchildren. It was a fun first evening with lots of reminiscing of happy times sprinkled with a little gossip or two.
As we ended the day and prepared for bed, I was exhausted but pleased with how things had worked out. All fears and anxiety had faded and I was relaxed and happy that I had made the trip.

On Friday Uncle Ron took us on a tour of the city including Central Avenue which was also the throughway for the famous Route 66. Built in the 30’s during and after the great depression, Route 66 had run from Chicago to Los Angeles. Called the “Mother Road” in John Steinbeck’s immortal book, the “Grapes of Wrath”, it crossed eight states, ran through the Rockies and out to the Pacific. It was a popular way across scenic America in the forties and fifties bringing tourism and money to some of the smaller towns and cities including Albuquerque. And in Albuquerque they continued the mystic along Central Avenue with frequent signs, banners and hotels that looked right out of the fifties with their Art Deco décor, museums, outdoor restaurants, antique shops, a refurbished train and bus depot and a small village called Old Town.
Founded in 1706, Old Town was where the city originally began. Home of San Felipe de Neri Church which still stands and is a great attraction to the natives as well as tourist, it is surrounded by homes and buildings over 300 years old, many of which are listed on the National Register of Historic Places. The village is distinctly Southwestern with its thick adobe walled structures, many of which have been converted into shops and restaurants. It is the focal point of Albuquerque’s community life with winding brick paths, wrought iron and adobe bancos (benches) and over a 100 shops and boutiques. In the center is a large gazebo where people can meet, bands often play and even a wedding or two takes place. There are working art studios and an outdoor artisan area where craftsman and women design jewelry and sell on the spot. It reminded me of a place in Pennsylvania I often went called New Hope which was the Hippie Haven of the sixties.

On Saturday we visited Uncle Ron’s office. A Real Estate Broker, Uncle Ron had a two story office with several agents. He showed us maps of the city that seemed to indicate that this was a still growing town with lots of areas under construction from homes to businesses. Albuquerque was certainly expanding.
As we left and prepared to go to dinner, I got my first real view of an extraordinary sight I had not notice before and it gave me pause and no words except “Holy Pickle Juice”!
On Thursday we had arrived at night so I hadn’t seen it. Friday had been overcast so it had eluded my vision and we had traveled mostly west in the city. But today driving back toward the east to a restaurant near the University of New Mexico, I got my first real view of the mountains. Growing up in Philadelphia, I rarely got the opportunity to see mountains which were further westward in Pennsylvania. Living in New Jersey which is topographically flat land, I never saw a mountain range. Now I was face to face with a majestic sight.
It was late afternoon but not near sunset. Behind me the sun was bathing light and coloring the mountains in orange, gold, green and reds. Here was the Sandias Mountains rising thousands of feet above the city. For a moment my mouth hung open as I stared in awe at this astonishing wonder. You could still see the blue sky behind it which looked like background scenery in a painting. It made me think of a huge dyna-rama display you might see in a museum. I just couldn’t get over that it was real.
Sandia is the Spanish word for watermelon. As the sun slowly moved toward the western horizon the mountains glowed in watermelon colors. Jersey would never be the same after seeing this!

On Sunday, Uncle Ron treated us to a tour of some of the many newly constructed home sights up on the western Mesa overlooking the city. Here, new homes and communities were just getting started expanding the city further outward. Here again was another awesome sight.
As we traveled on Route 40, a highway going toward Arizona and beyond I could see 5 distinct Volcanoes. This was something else I had never witnessed. They were unmistakable and commanding in appearance. The only volcanoes I had ever seen were in the movies and the news ( Mt. St. Helenes) but Uncle Ron assured us they were ‘dead’. Somehow that wasn’t reassuring. Volcanoes don’t die, they sleep a long time!

As we visited model homes in different areas, I got a sense of things new and different. Much of the architecture reflected the region and the different lifestyle of the southwest, desert, red rock, clay, cactus. Most of the landscaping consisted of a form of xeno-scaping which precludes having to water often since rainfall is minimal and water very precious in this region. Many of the homes had second floor balconies with fantastic views of the mountains while others were one story but with large yard areas and concrete fencing. Surprising to me I felt drawn to this place, so comfortable and so relaxed. Everything about it was new and strange like exploring a new world.
At one of the new home sites as we wandered through the models with their obvious furnishings designed to entice new buyers I stopped and looked around me with a vision of me living there. The living room had an in-wall tiled gas fireplace and the kitchen had a window and sill above the sink. The floor had that distinctive mosaic tile while the rest of the house was carpeted. There were three bedrooms, not exactly huge but roomy. There were also two full bathrooms, one of which was in the master bedroom. There was a dining area just off the kitchen with a window almost to the floor and a view of the yard with a pale pink concrete fence separating each house. And there was a gigantic two car garage that for the moment acted as the office of the real estate agents.
It was a single home with the rear providing an unobstructed view of the Sandias Mountain and the valley below that guarded the city.
The more I wandered the model home, the more I wanted to be here. This was crazy, this was way out of the box, but I knew somehow this was what I wanted. As we headed back toward the city and Uncle Ron’s house my mind couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like to live here. The next morning as we headed for the airport, my thoughts were still focused on that house and dreams of being there. I tried to be practical and I tried to be realistic. But I had been doing that for most of my married life. I was almost single now, my children were grown and on their own, wasn’t it time for me? As the plane took off and we circled toward the east, I took a long look at the mountains, the valley, the volcanoes and the desert and my heart beat faster. Yes! It was time for me. I could do this and I wanted to do this. I could start a new life. For the first time in months I had a goal, I had a quest. I wanted to live in New Mexico!