That’s all I know. That’s not much.”
Joe looked at him knowingly. “You know enough.”
“Joe, I’m not the right guy.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be the one at center-stage. You’ll be there to help, and only if I need it.”
“But…” He sighed. “What rumors?”
“Some real beauties. One is that the Park Service wants BLM to eliminate all grazing on the monument. Another has us opening everything up to grazing, including the park. Take your pick—chose the one you want to believe.” Joe shook his head in amazement. “Another rumor has the monument being pulled entirely into the national park.”
“People riled up?”
“Up in arms. There’s plenty of conspiracy talk, and something for everybody. ‘Paving over paradise’ rumors, too. Those are firing up the environmental community. There’s one about the Park Service and BLM being willing to put roads all over the monument. We’re doing this, supposedly, to pacify the other side, to give them something they want, and we’re also supposedly helping push forward the Canyon de Oro project.”
Canyon de Oro, the large development project proposed by a fellow named Wayne Enslow, who owns a parcel of private land in an extensive canyon completely surrounded by public lands—lands that were now part of the national monument. Enslow had been pushing the federal government for a road across public lands. It would have been better, faster access to his property, and it would have made the property valuable real estate. The environmental community feared major impacts to the desert and to Fuego Canyon tree frog habitat.
Whether or not the environmental community was responsible, it was taking credit for the past President’s proclamation, and Jack could imagine they would be up in arms over rumors of new roads on the monument. “Doesn’t sound good,” Jack said.
“That’s why we need to nip the rumors in the bud.”
“It won’t help. People want to believe those things.”
Joe chuckled patiently. “It’ll help.”
“Rumors have a life of their own, especially when someone out there wants people to believe them.”
Joe shook his head. “No. I’m guessing they’re just typical rumors. Someone said something in the bar, speculating or worrying about something. Someone else overheard it. Next thing you know its gospel truth. We just need to set the record straight.”
“They won’t believe us.” Jack picked up his hat and ran his fingers slowly along the rim. “Joe, you don’t want me there. I’ll be no help whatsoever.”
Joe settled back in his chair. “Jack, you’ve had one bad experience.”
“I don’t want another.”
“I’m told that people trust you.”
“That’s not what they do when they trust you.”
“I can’t explain it, Jack. I’m told that most people up there trusted you. And you trusted them. I’m counting on you becoming that guy again. I can’t make it happen if I let you sit in your office avoiding all contact with the public.”
“The politicos, they...I got caught in the middle. Both sides, when they took a swing at each other, they took one at me for good measure. I have reasons to avoid contact. I’d rather be alone.”
“I’m not going to let you. I want you in Las Piedras at eleven o’clock, in the plaza. I’ve asked Angie Manriguez, the District Manager for BLM to join us.”
“Why the plaza?”
“Common ground. I thought we could tap into the traditions of the community. Let’s nip these rumors in the bud.”
CHAPTER 5
The plaza was the heart of Las Piedras, where fiestas, speeches and other community events took place. Old men gathered daily under the cottonwoods to play dominos and cards in the heat of the afternoon. It seemed quaint and timeless, but much had changed over three hundred years.
Most of the buildings around the plaza—including the largest, the church—were adobe. Wooden buildings had been added around the turn of the last century.
Jack parked on a backstreet. The businesses he walked past—the dry goods store, the pharmacy, Indian arts and curio shops, the bookstore, and Elena’s Café and Cantina—all seemed busy for Las Piedras at this time of year. Children ran noisily about the church courtyard, behind its low earthen walls. A woman watched them from the shadow of the bell tower, out of the growing heat.
People were gathering for Joe Morgan’s meeting in the shade of an old monarch cottonwood. From across the way, Jack could pick out Joe by the profile of his hat. Some of the people he’d assembled were sitting on park benches, others milled around behind them, talking in groups. As Jack approached, he studied them. There looked to be about a dozen ranchers, young and old, Hispano and Anglo. There looked to be about as many from the environmental community. Karen Hatcher, the regional director for Trust for the Southwest, stood at the edge of a group of likely environmentalists while Harold Grimmsley, who called himself Director of the Friends of Canyon de Fuego, stood at its core. Grimmsley’s one-person show appeared to be adding followers.
A few business people were there, as well as a county supervisor named Tom Herrera. Angie Manriquez, the BLM District Manager, stood behind Joe, waiting.
Jack chose a spot off to the side and watched as the others threw around glances and whispered words.
Joe stepped forward. “Folks, thanks for coming. I’m Joe Morgan, Superintendent of Piedras Coloradas National Park. This is Angie Manriquez, District Manager for the Bureau of Land Management.”
Angie nodded to the attendees.
“Okay, I want this to be informal,” Joe said. “And I want each of you to feel like you can talk and ask questions. But first, there are some rumors going around about the new national monument. Rumors that are just flat out incorrect, and likely to worry some of you.” He laughed. “In fact, there seems to be a rumor to worry about everybody.”
A few nervous laughs came out of the crowd.
He continued. “Because of those rumors, I wanted to get you together to talk…and…I hope…to give you some comfort through the facts. First, we need to prepare a management plan. The proclamation for the national monument directs us to do so, jointly. We’ll be working with Angie and her BLM district staff.” Joe glanced her way. “No plans have yet been initiated, and if you want to know what will guide the development of the plan, that’s easy, just read the proclamation. It does not say to do away with grazing on the national monument, but it directs us to consider the use of appropriate restrictions if needed to preserve the values of the monument. The proclamation does not say there will be no roads, but it does restrict roads and directs us to consider closures when needed to protect natural and cultural resource values. There is no authority—and by that I mean legislation—that would allow the monument to be pulled into the national park. It is to be managed differently, for different purposes, including allowing most of the traditional activities that occur there today. But let me make clear the fact that there are specific natural and cultural
