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Family History Stories Paraphrased
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Mr. John H. Phillips
By Edith L. Crawford
Paraphrased by C. W. Barnum
Counties: Lea, Eddy, Chaves, Lincoln
Surnames mentioned: Phillips

On July 21, 1879, I was married to Mr. John H. Phillips, a rancher and we lived in Tom Green County, Texas. To this union was born three boys, Walter, Roy and Pete. Walter and Roy both died in their early teens and within three days of each other. Pete is still living. In the spring of 1885 Mr. Phillips drove one hundred head of cattle to the Davis Mountains near Toyah Texas, to find pasturage. While on this trip Mr. Phillips scouted around in New Mexico looking for grass and water. In the spring of 1886 we sold out in Tom Green County Texas and started out for New Mexico, coming by way of the Davis Mountains and picking up our cattle. That was the year of a terrible drought and we could hardly find a place to camp on account of so many carcasses of dead cattle. We found only about half of ours. We crossed the line into New Mexico on September second, 1886.

We traveled in a covered wagon drawn by two horses and we had a trail wagon. We brought our chickens, four milk cows, seven head of horses and one hundred seven range cattle. We traveled alone and I drove the wagon. Walter, our oldest boy who was six rode with his father and helped as best he could with the cattle. We saw no Indians nor Buffalo on our trip. We started by daylight each day but stopped a little early at night for camp. We picked up sticks and cow chips for fuel. We carried a water barrel in our trail wagon and did not suffer as many hardships as some of the pioneers did. We had one funny experience when we camped at Pecos Station on the Pecos River. We were so tired and worn out Mr. Phillips decided that we would stay a day or so and rest. He wanted to hire some one to look after the cattle while we rested up, so he took Walter and rode off to see somebody about that. I had to go to the river for some water. I left both of the smaller children in the wagon but when I got nearly to the river I found that Roy had followed me and had his little drinking cup in his hand. The river was very high and just above where I was there was a whirlpool. Just as I dipped in my pail Roy screamed, Ma, there is Pa. I looked up and saw a man's leg whirling around in the pool. I dropped my pail in the river and grabbed Roy up and ran back to camp scared to death. Roy was crying and calling for his Pa. When Mr. Phillips came back I told him what we had seen. He went out and got some ranchers and they began a search for the body. 

The next day they found the body in a rancher's yard where it had been washed by the high waters of the river. It was an old Mexican man who had lived in a small hut on the river bank and the high water had washed the hut away and the old man had drowned. Not much else happened to us on the trip. It was long and tiresome. We came on to the Carrizo flats as we had heard there was lots of grass and water there. It was all open country in those days and we followed the grass and camped at watering places. While we were drifting around trying to decide where to buy we camped for a while at the Cottonwood Springs in the Patos mountains. It was a lovely place, owned by the Anderson Land Cattle Company and a Mrs. Simms and her son Jimmie were caretakers. Mr. Phillips was very much taken with the place and said that he hoped the day would come when he could own it. There was a large white house there and it was called the White House. It was not for sale at that time, but about the year 1918 Mr. Phillips heard it was for sale and bought it. I still own it.

In the year 1887 we bought a good place on Eagle Creek and lived there for many years. This place was near Alto. We sold out to the Southern Pacific Railroad Company and moved to a small ranch we owned on Bonito near Angus. In 1920 we moved to the Cottonwood Springs ranch. Mr. Phillips enjoyed this place so much and always said that we would not move any more. He died in January 1926, and is buried in a small plot not far from the ranch house. All of my family is gone but Pete, who is married and has four children. I am still holding on to the Cottonwood Springs ranch though they won't let me live there any more as I am too old now. I want my grandchildren to have it. Source: Mrs. Martial C. Phillips.

J. W. Allen
By Frances E. Totty
Related by Otho Allen
Paraphrased by C. W. Barnum
Counties: General
Surnames mentioned: Allen, Stoval, Brock, Cummings, McMullen

My father, J. W. Allen and mother came to Deming in 1882 the year before I was born. There wasn't a doctor in Deming at the time my people came to town. Dr. Stoval came to Deming in 1884 just before I was born. He was just a lad and my mother would not have him as a doctor, because she said he hadn't had any experience, and she would rather have an older woman take care of her. Dr. Stoval is practicing over on the Mimbres River at the present time. In 1884 my father moved to Whitewater, where two regiments of soldiers were stationed. He didn't have a job or any money and killed antelopes for the soldiers. He later bought a tent and started a saloon where he made enough money to get a start.

He moved to White Signal in 1885 and took squatters rights on a piece of land. Our first livestock were hogs and we slowly acquired a few cattle. My father was very conservative and was trying to get ahead. He saved a few $20 gold pieces, which I found and dropped through a crack in the floor. The story got out about me pushing the gold pieces through the floor, and people got the impression that my father was rich and hoarding gold.  One night a knock was heard at the door. When we called who is it? The answer was: Its me. My father was away from home and mother wouldn't open the door. The man tried to get in the house, and hung around for a couple of hours and finally went away. The next morning we found two large rocks and a heavy green club by the door. After that my father was very careful about his money.

Ceasar Brock killed the last mountain sheep killed in the Barro Mountains. I was a youngster at the time, and could only reach half way around his horn with both hands. The first time I saw Mr. Brock I was riding behind my father to camp. Father said Son, here comes some one with a large gun. It was in the winter, and was very cold. Father asked Mr. Brock to return to camp with us, which he did. He had been to our camp, but left as we didn't return to camp early. Mr. Brock said: I killed a deer up here and you can have it if you will go get it as it is too far for me to carry to my camp. The next morning we went with Mr. Brock to where the deer was, and a wildcat had been there. Mr. Brock remarked that he just as well have his skin as anyone else, and left. That afternoon father and I were cleaning out a slue when one of us happened to look up and saw Mr. Brock standing on one of the highest peaks with the skin tied around his waist. Mr. Brock come off the side of that cliff as fleet as a deer.

Mr. Brock was raised around the Indians, and to many is very queer. One never knew when to expect him at their elbow laughing, because he scared them. At dawn he might be at your camp some five or ten miles from his camp, and at dusk thirty miles away, and he was always a foot. He has a gun that is marked T. S. V. which is generally believed to belong to the Adams party. The Gold Gulch country must be where the Adams Diggings are located for Mr. Brock found the gun in a cave in the Gulch. The land markings suit the Adams description. The mountain that resembles a woman's bosom can be seen. I have found several 45-70 Rim Fire shells in the Gulch, and several cradles that were made with pegs for nails. Mr. Brock used to come in with some nice nuggets and told us that he thought the Gulch was where the Adams Diggings were. He later showed us the gun that he had found with the initials carved on it.

There is a hole in the Gulch formed by water falling from a cliff in rainy weather. In this hole one can see a heart with an arrow through it and turkey tracks in the rocks. How the Indians got in the hole to carve signs is a miracle to me. The sides of the hole are slick and curve slightly. There are many cliff dwellings around the Gulch, and Pit dwellings are found all along the range of mountains.

John Cummings told me the first time he saw Billie the Kid was in Cochise. The Kid came into town and went to a saloon and said he was hunting work. The boy saw some men gambling and was soon in the game, he was a stranger in the country, and as he seemed to have all the luck and was taking all of the money; one of the men made a nasty remark. The Kid drew his gun and killed two of the men around the table and injured another. He walked out of the saloon as he had just been in the place for a drink, and walked over to his horse as unconcerned; looked back, and then jumped on and rode away. The men at the saloon had thought of him as a mere lad and were taken back when they found him quick on the draw. The boy left Cochise and was never seen there again.

In 1905 John McMullen brought the first two cylinder car to Silver City. We all knew that a car would never go to Mogollon. Everyone thought Mr. McMullen was rich as he had a car. We had always gone horseback and thought a horse would be the only successful way of travel. We rode horses for fifteen cents apiece or two for twenty-five. One night Mr. Brock came to camp and asked me to ride one of his horses, I replied, Mr. Brock we are charging to ride horses now.

How much? Mr. Brock asked. Fifteen cents for one horse. I'd pay fifteen cents to see anyone ride my horse for he has thrown more than one. All right bring him over any time you have him up and I'll ride him.

Mr. Brock left and about nine that night he came to camp leading a large black horse. He said, Lets see you ride him. I got my fifteen cents. Took off his Montgomery saddle with one stirrup shorter than the other, and put my saddle on the horse. The boys that were in bed didn't get up while I was saddling the horse but did when I got on him. That horse jumped through one of the tents, and the chuck wagon. We rode through the camp and tore up things in general. In the early days when you rode a wild horse he was wild, but it was all in the game for we needed the money. We never minded a few hard falls, expected them. We didn't mind sleeping out we had our old cowboy songs to sing and square dances to pass the time so life wasn't so dull.

Pat Garrett-Billy the Kid
By Edith L. Crawford
Paraphrased by C. W. Barnum
Counties: Lincoln, De Baca
Surnames mentioned: Garrett, Kid, Gray, Pruitt, Lowery, Manning, Carlisle, Ricker, Reily

I was born in Grapevine, Texas, in 1877. I was six years old when we left Grapevine in April 1997. My father, Seaborn T. Gray, mother, four children, two boys and two girls, my father's two sisters and their husbands, Mr. and John Lowery and Mr. and Mrs. Henry Manning and three cowboys, Henry Pruitt, Jim Carlisle and Johnnie Ricker were in the party.

Pat Garret was a cousin of my father. He came to Grapevine, Texas to visit us in the early spring of 1883. He had a cattle ranch on Little Creek, which is now part of the old V ranch, near Ruidoso, in Lincoln County, New Mexico. He persuaded my father to move to New Mexico and bring his cattle where there was lots of good feed and water and open range. Cousin Pat mapped out the trail we were to travel as he had hunted Buffalo out on the plains and had made the trip several times and knew all the watering places. We traveled in four covered wagons, drawn by two horses to each wagon. One wagon was a chuck wagon and carried the provisions and the cow boys bedding. There was a chuck box in the back of this wagon. The three women did all the cooking. 

The chuck wagon would stop at each town and load up with provisions to last until we got to the next town. The rest of the wagons did not go through the towns as we had two hundred head of cattle and twenty-five head of horses with us. We could only travel about fifteen miles a day on account of the horses and cattle having to feed on the way. We camped out in the open each night. The men would take turns standing guard over the camp and the stock each night as the Indians were bad in those days and father was afraid they would come by some night and steal all of our horses and cattle. The families slept in the wagons and the cowboys made their beds on the ground. We used lanterns for lighting and cooked over a camp fire in Dutch ovens. The only fresh meat we had were Antelope and Buffalo. They were very plentiful. I remember when we would sight a herd of Buffalo we would drive until they could see us, then the wagons would stop and father would hang a red blanket on the side of one of the wagons. The buffalo would become curious and keep edging up and when they got in shooting range father would get his Winchester and pick out a nice fat yearling and kill it. They would skin him and all we took was the hind quarters and the hide. After we reached the plains the only fuel we had was buffalo and cow chips. 

Every day when we stopped for dinner and at night my oldest brother and I had to take tow sacks and gather the chips. Mother made sour dough biscuits twice a day and corn bread for our noon meal. She baked it in Dutch ovens and my brother and I would watch to see if she dropped any of the chip ashes in the bread while baking it, for we thought it was awful to have to use the buffalo and cow chips to cook with. We never saw any Indians or any traces of any on the whole trip out here and we were on the road five months. It was awful dry and hot crossing the plains. We ran out of water one day and we and the stock too suffered terribly from thirst. The cattle would not let us stop to eat dinner or supper. They put their heads down and traveled in a trot most all day. It was after dark when the cattle smelled water and they all struck out in a run for this watering place. It was just about dry when we reached it and we had to drink water from cow tracks that night. When we got up the next morning and saw the kind of water we had been drinking we children all tried to get sick. There was not enough water left in the holes for us to make coffee the next morning so we started on our way looking for fresh water. We drove about two miles when we reached the Canadian River with the nicest clearest water so we camped on the bank of this river for three days and rested ourselves and the stock. Mother and my two aunts did the family washing and the men folks caught lots of nice fish. 

One day while mother was driving along my two brothers and I were playing in the back of the wagon and I fell out. My oldest brother called to mother and said Mamma, Nellie is out. Mother stopped the wagon and looked back and there I lay in the middle of the road screaming to the top of my lungs. She thought that I was half killed but I was not hurt at all, just scared half to death.

When we reached Fort Sumner, New Mexico the Pecos River was running bank full of the muddiest water. We had to dip it up in barrels and tubs and let it settle before we could use it. We had to lay over there ten days waiting for the river to go down. We camped in an old adobe hut for it was raining when we got there. We got so tired of waiting to cross the river that one morning father decided that we could make it so the cowboys rounded up the cattle and horses and jumped them off in the Pecos River. They swam across with only horns and faces showing but we lost only one cow in crossing. When it came time for the wagons to cross the women folks and we children were awfully scared. The wagons crossed one at a time. One of the cowboys tied a rope to the horn of his saddle and to the tongue of the wagon and guided us across. The water came up to the bed of the wagon and some ran into our wagon. While we were in Fort Sumner waiting to cross the river we visited Billy the Kid's grave. I remember it had a board at the head with his name, age and the date he was killed. He had only been dead two years then.

After leaving Fort Sumner we found wonderful grass and water for the stock. It was about the middle of August and was the rainy season in New Mexico. We were on the road a month from Fort Sumner to Little Creek, New Mexico. We traveled by way of the Jicarilla and Capitan Mountains and crossed the Salado flat which is about eleven miles west of Capitan ,New Mexico. We arrived at Pat Garrett's ranch at Little Creek, New Mexico in September 1887. We had been on the road for five months. Mother was so homesick when we first came for we had to sleep in a tent in Pat Garrett's back yard and we ate with the Garrett family until we found a place to live in. When we did find a place to live in it was a log shack and leaked. Mother had an awful time trying to keep our bedding dry when it rained or snowed. It was awfully cold the first winter we spent at Little Creek as it is situated at the foot of the White Mountains. We lived there about a year and in 1884 father filed on a homestead on the Salado flat where he raised cattle and fine horses until 1900. That year he sold all his cattle and horses and laid out the town of Capitan, New Mexico.

Father was born in Coosa County, Alabama, October 31, 1851 and died in Capitan, New Mexico, July 23, 1919. Mother was born in Arkansas April 26, 1855 and died in Carrizozo, New Mexico, October 15, 1935. Father's two sisters did not stay very long in New Mexico, they did not like it here so they moved back to Texas and I do not know what ever became of them. The three cowboys stayed with us for a while and then drifted away and I do not know where they went. I was married to William M. Reily October 31, 1894, seven children were born to the union, five girls and two boys. Mr. Reily died in Carrizozo, New Mexico, March 9, 1931. Source: Nellie B. Reily.

Patrick R. Boone
By Georgia B. Redfield
Paraphrased by C. W. Barnum
Counties: Chaves,
Surnames mentioned: Boone, Smith, Wilburn, Dunnahoo, Bonney, Lea, Garrett, Urton, Littlefield, Pope, Allison, Dills

When Patrick H. Boone came to New Mexico and settled in Roswell in 1882 the growth and development of this town that was destined to become a leading City of New Mexico had practically ceased for a period of eight or ten years.

The two adobe houses, a store and a hotel built in 1869 by Van C. Smith and Aaron O. Wilburn, on what is now the block west of the Court House, and a blacksmith shop established by Rufus H. Dunnahoo in 1881, (a short while before the coming of Mr. Boone) on what is now the corner of North Main and Fourth Streets was about all the progress made in development of the town at the time of the coming of Mr. Boone, who realizing that New Mexico was an ideal cattle country, soon after his arrival established a ranch at Salt Creek, about eighteen miles northwest of Roswell, and embarked in the cattle business. He then established the first meat market in Roswell.

C. D. Bonney had also come to Roswell and settled in 1881. He purchased an interest in the store owned by Captain Joseph C. Lea, which operated under the name of Lea Bonney and Company. After Mr. Boone had become acquainted with Mr. Bonney, the two became close friends, and when together they discussed ways and means whereby undeveloped land around Roswell might be watered and put into cultivation. Some of the plans discussed by them resulted in the construction of what was called the Northern Canal from the Hondo River, construction of which was begun in 1883.

When work on the canal was completed the Hondo River furnished water for all farm lands south of Roswell, as far as the present town of Hagerman, a distance of twenty-four miles. Other Others actively became interested in this canal irrigation project, besides Pat Boone and C. D. Bonney, were Asbury Whetstone,  who did the surveying and Pat Garrett who owned a ranch home near the Hondo River dam, about three miles east of Roswell.

After the construction of the Hondo Canal Irrigation System, Mr. Boone established and developed one of the finest ranches in the Pacos Valley, now known as the Urton Ranch about four miles northeast of Roswell, which he sold to W. Urton in 1900, and is now owned by William Cooley Urton, a son of Mr. W. G. Urton. Mr. Boone was born in Neosha, Missouri and was educated in the public schools there.

After coming to New Mexico he married April 22nd 1890, to Miss Mildred F. Littlefield, daughter of a prominent ranchman of Texas and New Mexico. Four children, two girls and two boys were born to Mr. and Mrs. Boone: Mrs. Minerva Pope, the wife of Professor D. N. Pope, who for over twenty years was Superintendent of the Roswell Public schools and Mrs. Alice Allison, the wife of Arthur Allison, owner of Roswell Greenhouse and Floral Company, Pat H. Boone, Junior, a ranchman of Littlefield, Texas, and William Littlefield Boone, who died in 1909 at three months of age. Mr. and Mrs. Pope have one child, a son, Delmar N. Pope Junior, seven years old, who was born in Roswell, on Christmas Day, 1930.

Mr. and Mrs. Allison have one child a daughter, Mildred Lou, born in Roswell, who is seven years of age. Mrs. and Mrs. Patrick Boone Junior have one son, Patrick Boone the third, born in Littlefield Texas, now fifteen years of age. Mr. Patrick H. Boone, Senior, died in Corpus Christi, Texas in October 1910, and was buried at that place. His wife Mrs. Mildred (Littlefield) Boone died November 25, 1921.

Mr. Boone, who was of an adventurous, happy disposition, made many fiends in Roswell and in other places where he met people of all stations of life and of numerous professions. During his travel he was once taken for Jessie James the famous outlaw, whom he resembled in height, bearing and features. He was arrested and held for several hours until a friend could identify him, and assure officials of the law that he was in no way connected with the dreaded bandit of some sixty years ago.

Mr. Boone is remembered by the early settlers of Roswell as a man who was kind and generous giving of his worldly possessions to many in times of need, and lending a helping hand in every way possible during the hard years of settlement in the lawless new country of the Territory of New Mexico. Sources: C. D. Bonney, Lucius Dills, Mrs. D. N. Pope.

Pedro M. Rodriguez
By Edith L. Crawford
Paraphrased by C. W. Barnum
Counties: Chaves, De Baca, Lincoln
Surnames mentioned: Rodriguez, Sanchez, Chavez, Herrera, Brady, Silva, Washington, Apodoca, Casey, Garule, Stanley, Dowlin, Kamisa

I was born in Lincoln, Lincoln County, New Mexico, on October 10, 1874, and have lived all my life in Lincoln County. My father, Jesus Rodriguez, was born in El Paso, Old Mexico, (which is El Paso, Texas now,) but I can not remember what year he was born as he was killed when I was about nine years old. My mother, Francisca Sanchez, daughter of Jose Sanchez, was born in Manzano New Mexico. I do not know the date of her birth, she died when I was about twelve years old, at Ruidoso, New Mexico. Father and Mother were married in Lincoln New Mexico about the year 1866, and lived there until my father was killed in 1883 by Sheriff Amado Chavez of Lincoln. Mother then went to Ruidoso New Mexico to live with my grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Fernando Herrera. Father was a private in Captain William Brady's Company A, First Regiment of Cavalry, at Fort Stanton, New Mexico. He enlisted for one year, from October 27, 1864 to October 27, 1865. He was discharged at Fort Sumner New Mexico. He spent most of his time in the army fighting the Indians, for in those days the Indians roamed all over Lincoln County, and were always killing people and stealing cattle and horses.

My grandfather, Fernando Herrera, lived in Ruidoso (where Hollywood is now located), and he owned about four hundred head of cattle and run them in Turkey Canyon which was in the Mescalero country. The Indians had been killing the cattle for meat so my grandfather got a posse of men together and started out to gather his cattle and bring them to the Ruidoso, where he could watch them.

In the posse was Billy the Kid, Andres Herrera, Manuel Silva, George Washington, and grandfather. They started out early one morning for Turkey Canyon. When they got to Turkey Spring about half way up the Canyon, they met Chief Kamisa and about twenty-five Indians. Kamisa was Chief of the Mescalero Apache Indians. While the posse was talking to Chief Kamisa the Indians formed a circle around the men and told Kamisa to tell them they were going to kill every one of them. Billy the Kid told the men in Spanish, to get off their horses and tighten up their front cinches and follow him. Billy mounted his horse with a six gun in each hand, and started hollering and shooting as he rode toward the Indians. The rest of the men followed, shooting as they went. They broke through the line of Indians and not a one of the men were hurt. They gathered a few head of cattle and took them home and put them in a corral. The next morning Kamisa and a band of Indians came to my grandfather's house. Kamisa called to grandfather to come out, he wanted to talk to him. Grandfather and Kamisa had always been pretty good friends so grandfather went to the door and told him that if he would butcher three beeves and give them to the Indians, we do you no more harm. The Indians kept there promise and never stole any more cattle. Grandfather and Kamisa were good friends from then on. I remember Kamisa well. He and I were good friends and I always liked to talk to him.

The Indians killed my father's brother, Marcial Rodriguez. He had gone to the house of Servanio Apodoca, who lived near Blue water, in the Capitan Mountains. He went there on New Year's Eve, to hunt some game. They got up at daybreak to go look for their horses. There was a flat covered with Juniper trees and the limbs grew very close to the ground. There was a spring, Ojo Agua Asule, at the foot of the Mountains on this flat. While the two men were crossing this flat a band of Indians were hid in the Juniper trees and they shot at the two men and mortally wounded. He was shot in the back and  was shot in one leg. They fought the Indians all day and as it began to get dark Marcial told  to run for the arroyo and save himself, as Marcial felt he was going to die. he made a run for the arroyo with the Indians after him, but as it was getting dark he was able to get away from them. He and Marcial killed several of the Indians that day. He walked all night long and came out at the Robert E. Casey ranch. This man was father of Lillie Casey. 

This ranch was about four miles north of a small town. He told the Casey men about the Indians and that he had left Marcial Rodriguez wounded up on the flat. The Casey's formed a posse and sent word up and down the Rio Bonito for every one that could go with them to meet them at Agua Azule meaning bluewater The posse left Casey's ranch just at daybreak and went to the house and found the Indians had been there and taken Juanita Sanchez, who was the wife of Servanio, and who was about to become a mother at the time. They took up the Indians trail and followed them back through the Agua Azule Flat where they found Marcial's body. They Indians had cut off his right arm and scalped him before leaving him. The posse dug a grave and buried him where he lay. This happened about the first of January, 1874, and what was called the Agua Azule Flat is now known as Bluewater. 

Posses from Lincoln and all up and down the river started after the Indians and overtook them at the west end of the Capitan Mountains. Here they had a fight with them and killed quite a few, but found that the Apodaca woman was not with this band. Someone in the posse noticed two squaws up on the side of the mountain and started after them. The Apodaca woman was with them and when the two squaws saw the white men coming thy split the Apodaca woman's head open with an axe and made their getaway. When the men got to the Apodaca woman she was dead and they found that she had given birth to her baby, which was a boy. They brought the baby to Lincoln and Apodaca gave him to a woman named Tulio Garule Stanley to care for. She raised this baby and called him Jose Apodaca, who is living in Carrizozo today. Servanio Apodaca was killed about 1875, by the Tejanos while he was taking a load of wheat to Dowlin's Mill on the Ruidoso.

My father was so mad at the Indians for killing his brother that he wanted to kill every Indian that he saw. He went to the Torres Ranch one night to way-lay two Indian women that he knew could talk Spanish and were very friendly with my father, but he hated them because they were Indians and wanted to kill them. He had bought some new cartridges for his six shooter form Jose Montano's store. He waited for the women to cross the Bonito river from the Torres Ranch to their house. He heard them coming and drew his six shooter and pulled the trigger but no report. He tried the next cartridge and the next and the next and never fired a shot. He took his six shooter and broke it all to pieces over a rock in the river bed. My father was a very mean man when he was drinking and was always in some kind of trouble. He was killed by Sheriff Amado Chavez in Lincoln. He had been on a drunk for several days and was hunting for Chavez to kill him. 

Chavez had arrested him and put him in jail. The jail in those days was a deep hole dug in the ground with an adobe room built over it. The room had one window and one door. When the prisoners were real bad they were put in the hole. The jailer had a step ladder that he put down in the hole and put his prisoners in and then he took the step ladder and hid it. They did not put my father in the hole that night, he was left in the adobe room and in some way during the night he got out and got his gun and went hunting for Chavez. He found him at a friend's house. Her son, Demetrio, was with Chavez when father went to the house and knocked on the door with his gun and asked for Amado Chavez. Demetrio Perez opened the door just a little bit and told father that Chavez was not there, but father stuck his boot in the crack of the door and was just about to get into the room when Chavez shot him. He died about three days later. My grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Fernando Herrara raised me. I have been a janitor of the Lincoln County Courthouse for the past six years.