In more recent years, the town of Springer, NM, to the east and south of Philmont and directly on I-25, had what was termed the "New Mexico boy's school", which was quite simply a reformatory for boys guilty of anything from being chronic truants to first degree murder. It was one of the town's biggest employers, and those who worked as guards and administrators were paid decent wages, but plagued on the one side by a mass of poorly behaved adolescents and on the other by a mass of state rules, bureaucrats, and outsiders trying in good faith to impose rules and order into a situation that remained, year after year, on the ragged edge of being out of control.
Escapes were fairly common, but rarely successful, and we knew better than to leave the keys in our trucks only 12 miles down the road.
My wife had long been a CCD teacher (teaches Catholic doctrine and sacraments to children) and volunteered to hold classes at the boy's school for those who were interested, many of whom signed up, and soon became an odd sort of friends to her, making sure she was always protected and aware of bad situations developing.
She questioned some of them about the escapes, and discovered that many of the boys were there as a result of being involved with gangs in the neighborhoods where they lived, most often with their grandmothers, because the parents were in prison or dead. The grandmother/mother is an old Hispanic tradition that is still prevalent today.
Most of the boys were going to be there until they were either 18 or 21, but some of them had a specific time to serve and would be released years before they came of age, and had noplace to go except right back to grandmother's house and the same gang activity that brought them there in the first place.
As their release date grew near, they would escape, often only go to the drug store in town and order a soda at the counter, wait to be picked up by the guards or local law enforcement, taken back to the boy's school and had their sentence extended until they were adults and upon release could get a job and live as and where they wanted.
I only heard of one lad who escaped for good. He was NO city boy, but ranch raised. Walked cross country 25 miles to the small town of Wagon Mound, found an unattended ranch house, filled up some feed sacks with supplies, stole a horse and saddle and headed for the hills, never to be heard from again. I always thought he was the stuff good novels are made from, and anybody who wants to use him, feel free, because I never will.
Meanwhile, the town of springer was curdled by the presence of the Boy's school, and many of those who worked there went home each night and took their frustrations out on the bottle or their families or other abuses.
I dunno where "bad boys" in New Mexico are sent these days, but the New Mexico boy's school is blessedly no more.
Near the site of the boy's school is a small lake that traditionally contains really large PIKE, and between the town of Miami and the sweetwater Carson museum is a rather large lake teeming with Northern pike around 18" in length, and a man with a rifle can sit at dusk and watch several tons of elk come down from the nearby mesa to water at that lake on any given evening.
The great blessing of the Ryado valley is the good dirt and lots of water, and it is said that around Miami, one can raise a cow and calf per acre in good years, and I firmly believe it. The water is distributed by flood irrigation in and around the town, and of course, that had to start sometime and the shares per acre established, because regardless how much water there is, it is still finite.
At the beginning of the formalizing of the water shares, a man named Charlie Springer and his brother had established the CS ranch which still exists today, last I heard operated by his granddaughter (maybe great granddaughter?) Linda Davis, and it covers around 300 thousand acres, including the lake at Eagle Nest, or at least the Eagle Nest dam. A meeting was called at the famous St. James saloon and hotel, also still operating today, and Charlie was a few minutes late for the meeting.
When he arrived in the saloon, he was carrying a 12 gage double barrel coach gun, cut down to a handy length, and inquired of the assembled ranchers, all crowded together at the bar, "am I not correct in recalling that traditionally the CS ranch gets a double share of the water that gets distributed?" Nobody disagreed, and it remains so to this day.
All of the above is local legend and of course I was there for only a tiny portion of it, so I don't know much for sure, only what I am told and have observed for myself
I do know that the Davis clan of the CS ranch are each a mighty force in his or her own right, including the Matriarch . Following is a link to some CS ranch history, and that will be that for now....
www.cscattle.com/t.ranch_history.htmlEnjoy.....Joe
On edit, I might add a couple more things about the Davis brothers who currently operate separate portions of the ranching operation from my memories.
Never had a lot to do with Randy, but Knew Bruce well enough to converse with him a bit, and he was a bull of a man when I was around there, one you might expect to take turns with his horse carrying one another and the only man I ever saw who took about 2/3rds of a can of Copenhagen per dip.
They had a Sawmill that bought logs from the ranch up at eagle nest, and Ted Turner wandered in there one time trying to rub elbows with the locals without a lot of success. Finally, trying to strike up a conversation with Bruce, he pointed to a replica wanted poster on the wall for Black Jack Ketchum and asked Bruce "Who is that guy?"
Bruce told him "That was black Jack Ketchum, and they caught him and hung him so hard over in Clayton that his head popped off" (true)
Turner said "DANG, Bruce, what did he DO?"
Bruce said..."Aww, he wanted to bring in Buffalo"
Turner, the man who owned and grazed more buffalo than any other man in NE New Mexico headed for the truck....Joe
