We (my buddy Spirit – my dog and my best friend – and
I) have been in Terlingua, in the Big Bend area of
western Texas, for about a month now, and when
DesertUSA asked me to write a feature on its Ghost
Town, too many paths presented themselves. The
history? The residents? The geology?
Since I work three nights a week as a cook at a famous
restaurant and bar, “LaKiva,” I also have had the
chance to meet many of the locals and hear too many
stories! Divide this in a few episodes? I didn’t
ask. I’ll just try to cover it all!
Let’s start with the history, how this town came
about. The name “Terlingua” refers to a mining
district in Texas’ southwestern Brewster County. It
is located near the Rio Grande and the Texas villages
of Lajitas and Study Butte as well as the Mexican
village of Santa Elena. The discovery of cinnabar – from which the
metal mercury is extracted – in the
mid-1880s, drew miners to the area, creating a city of
2,000 people. Now, the only remnants of the mining
days are a ghost town of the Howard Perry-owned Chisos
Mining Company and several nearby capped and abandoned
mines, most notably the California Hill, the Rainbow,
the 248 and the Study Butte mines. (The mineral
terlinquaite was first found in the vicinity of
California Hill.)
According to the historian Kenneth Baxter Ragsdale,“Facts concerning the discovery of cinnabar in the
Terlingua area are so shrouded in legend and
fabrication that it is impossible to cite the date and
location of the first quicksilver recovery.” The
cinnabar was apparently known to the Native Americans,
who prized its brilliant red color for body pigment.
Various Mexican and American prospectors reportedly
found cinnabar at Terlingua in the 1880s, but the
remoteness and hostile Indians discouraged mining.
A man named Jack Dawson reportedly produced the first
mercury at Terlingua in 1888, but the district got off
to a slow start. It was not until the mid-1890s that
the Terlingua finds began to be publicized in
newspapers and mining industry magazines. By 1900,
there were four mining companies operating at
Terlingua. By the 1940’s the mines dried up, leaving
a ghost town behind.
Let’s go next to today’s residents. People came back
to Terlingua. Not the original residents, mind you,
but a new wave, a unique wave. They are a collection
of loners, artists, eccentrics, and outcasts - maligned
individualists who have fashioned their own crude
American Dream in the anonymity of this remote corner
of the Chihuahuan Desert. They comprise a neglected
niche in America, outside of the infrastructure.
Here in their Ghost Town, less is more. Anyone who
lives in a one room cabin without water and
electricity fits right in. People live in cars,
caves, tepees, tents and shacks made out of car tires. The only unwelcome
guest is progress, though its trespasses have become noticeable even here.
The Starlight Theater is the tourists’ and the locals’ hangout, a restaurant and bar where disparate members
of society rub elbows. Progress has not changed many
buildings, however. The local radio station KYOT
100.1 FM has taken over the abandoned local hotel.
The old church also now hosts Yoga lessons. A now
defunct restaurant is the crisis center for the town,
and it doubles as a social gathering destination for
many about once a month, with homemade food and music
and much conversation. The old school has been
replaced by a new modern one a few miles away. With
no more children and laughter, the original building
stands year after year, braving the elements.
There is no telling what the future holds for the
Ghost Town. It has become, very slowly, an outsiders’ destination. The summers are rough. The heat is
brutal. The economy and local incomes drop
considerably. Winter brings back tourists and a
welcome flow of money to sustain the community for the
rest of the year. Terlingua is strong, its members
hold tight to each other.
There is here a time warp in the days and nights. I
have not worn a watch or seen a calendar since Spirit
and I arrived. Early morning plans collapse by
mid-day, when the realization sets in that the “must
do’s” can be postponed until tomorrow. At the
earliest. There is peace, tranquility, relaxation.
There is a unique flow that encourages a person to
hang around, sheltered from the modern world. You
have to be careful. Terlingua can get under your
skin. You would want to bring your own bus or tent or
tire supply. Everything here is already full.
Let’s go next to the geology. No, let’s not. Maybe
I’ll tell you about that some other time. It can wait
until tomorrow. At the earliest.
