Born on the Wrong Side of the State Line

 By Roy Ortega

I have often referred to myself as a reluctant Texan. Don't get me wrong. I like Texas, but not everything about it. I was born in Texas, but the idea that everything in Texas is bigger also applies to its vast imperfections. I would gladly list the things I dislike about Texas, but that's for another column. This post is about New Mexico, not Texas.

My love of New Mexico isn't a new revelation. I have written about the Land of Enchantment countless numbers of times going back nearly 45-years.  As a journalist, I have been lucky to traverse the length and breadth of this beautiful state reporting on everything from Space Shuttle landings at White Sands Missile Range to the yearly chile harvest in Hatch. My favorite stories have always been about New Mexican culture, food, history and of course, the people of New Mexico. I am always tempted to portray New Mexico entirely in a positive light, but New Mexico has its problems like any other state. Along with the touristy travelogues, I also spent considerable time recording the not-so enchanting side of New Mexico. By far, the worst story I ever covered in New Mexico was the ghastly prison riot

New Mexico State Prison Riot 1980

at the New Mexico State Penitentiary in Santa Fe in 1980. I'm still haunted by the images of that horrific event.

"If you love New Mexico so much, why don't you live there?" 

It's a question I've been asked several times. I actually did live in New Mexico for a time. Before I elaborate, let me offer some personal history. 

My connection to New Mexico actually dates back to my early childhood. By the age of three, I had already made my first trip to New Mexico as the son of an Air Force staff sergeant stationed at Kirtland Air Force Base. Although I have no memory of standing at the crest of Sandia Mountain in 1956 with

My dad, me and my brother Ruben,
Sandia Crest, 1956

my dad and my little brother, I feel the seeds of my lifelong attraction to the Land of Enchantment may have actually been planted during this period of my life. As a young adult, I was actually drawn back to New Mexico on a wild-hair trek to learn about the Great American West. Later, I helped my sister Etna move to school in Utah and experienced first-hand the great wonders of the Rocky Mountains. I literally fell in love with the West.

In the late 1970s, as a newlywed anxious to enhance my media career, I accepted a job as a TV news reporter in Albuquerque. Our life in the Land of Enchantment was like a dream come true. Jo Anne and I loved everything about the state. The weather, the Native American culture, the food, the charming adobe architecture and the magnificent mountains and deserts. It was all good. Some of the most memorable times were the morning ski runs in the Sandias, located literally just minutes from our apartment.

But our stay in Albuquerque ended when we decided to move to El Paso to be close to Jo Anne's mom. El Paso isn't in New Mexico, but for me, it was close enough.

El Paso, New Mexico. I Kinda Like the Sound of That

Years ago, I wrote a piece arguing that El Paso doesn't belong in Texas. It belongs in New Mexico. In fact, there have been suggestions over the years that New Mexico should simply annex El Paso and be done with it. El Paso has far more in common with New Mexico than it does with Texas. The city sits at the farthest point west in Texas in a different time zone, higher in elevation (4,000 feet above sea level) than any other Texas city and a geography that resembles nothing east of the Pecos River. Two other state capitols are closer to El Paso than Austin - Phoenix, Arizona and Santa Fe, New Mexico. It takes less time to drive to California and Colorado from El Paso than it takes to drive to Beaumont. Several western and northeastern suburbs of El Paso actually sit on the New Mexico side of the state line. Las Cruces, New Mexico's second largest city, is located 45-minutes north of El Paso. Both cities are considered one single statistical market area, not two. 

Our Second Home, Our Playground

Sierra Blanca, New Mexico

After returning to El Paso in the early 80s, our connection to New Mexico actually grew stronger. As our boys grew up, we regarded Las Cruces, Cloudcroft and Ruidoso as our fun playground. Great camping at Sleepy Grass in the nearby Sacramento Mountains in the summer and snow tubing and skiing in the wintertime. The boys learned to ice skate in the rink in Cloudcroft and they still return as adults. And, of course, our frequent trips to Old Mesilla remain a fun part of our lives to this day. Spending memorable family gatherings at Jo Anne's aunt and uncle's farm in Anthony, New Mexico were among our favorite activities.

I often tout the fact that I was more than proud to make my contribution to the New Mexico tax and education system. My dollars went to pay for an excellent education at New Mexico State University for our youngest son Jared. 

So, there you have it. I'm enchanted. And I like it.