From the New Mexican, August 2, 2009

Last month, the Museum of New Mexico asked readers if they recognized anyone in this photograph by Santa Fe photographer T. Harmon Parkhurst, which is drawing attention in the New Mexico History Museum.

Turns out the photo is of the Studebaker entry in a 1929 fiesta parade that was published in the New Mexican on Oct. 2, 1929.  The Historic Santa Fe Foundation found the original story in its fiesta files.

The paper identified the people in the photo, left to right, as:  Mrs Margery Wilson, George Gormley (adjusting the trolley), Joe Schultz (perched on the rear platform), Mrs. John March (in the first window), Mrs Martin Gardesky (in the comfortable leaning pose), Mrs. Christine Gormley (in window No. 2), Mrs. DeForest Lord (in No. 3), Jane Bigelow (in Dana Johnson's Mexican sombrero), Norman Magee (with the parasol and ringmaster whiskers) and Mrs. Margery Bigelow (spurning his advances).  The two youngsters are George March and Sarah Bigelow.  On hands and knees is "Duke" Bigelow, who from a cockpit inside the car navigated the bus.  In the vestibule are Glenn Brill, Mrs. Jeanette Schultz and the skipper, Agustus "Gus" Wilson.

The caption said the photo will appear in the Studebaker News, the national house organ of Studebaker.  The trolley, according to the caption, was built on a Studebaker chassis.

In this photo are my Grandfather DeForest Lord's first wife (Lucille - my Grandmother) and his soon to be second wife (Jeanette.)  Lucille moved back to Chicago after they divorced in 1930.

Correction:  Arthur Seligman Scott (Pete) has identified the woman in the first window as Franc E. Seligman, wife of Governor Arthur Seligman, not Mrs. John March.

Photo by T. Harmon Parkhurst

1929

NMHM No. 117681

--Mike Lord

This poster is no joke.  The law was sparse and none too effective in the Territory during the 1880s and vigilantes often took justice into their own hands.  The following is from Miguel Antonio Otero's autobiography "My Life on the Frontier."

"On the same day that witnessed Judge Prince's resignation (June 9, 1882), James McHan, a good-natured half-wit employed on the railroad at the Pecos River crossing, was being mercilessly ridiculed by a fellow employee, John Graves.  Graves, as well as other section hands, had become accustomed to tantalizing the ignorant McHan on every conceivable occasion.  Probably they derived some kind of imaginary amusement from seeing the poor imbecile writhe under their tongue lashing.  McHan, aroused to the point of insanity,  suddenly drew a gun and fired point-blank at Graves, who dropped dead at his feet.

McHan immediately struck out for the mountains, followed by twenty members of an impromptu deputy sheriff's posse.  He was captured and placed under guard.  Shortly before midnight of that same day a mob of forty enraged section hands, who had been friends of Graves, made an armed attack upon McHan's protectors, wresting their victim from them.

Half dragging, half carrying the seventeen-year-old McHan to the railroad trestle east of the Pecos yards, they strung him to one of the cross-ties.  Once again, a man had gone to oblivion via the 'Rope Route.'"