The constant push from City Council to revitalize Downtown
El Paso seems to have turned into a move to simply tear down the old, and build
something new. I suppose that would be
OK if the something new was going to either provide shelter for human beings,
or in some way be useful all the time for all the people. Unfortunately, we appear to be building more
and more structures that only receive part time use by a relatively low
percentage of the city's population.
You'll forgive me for saying that this makes little
sense. On the one hand, it is almost as
if they do not realize - or, at least, remember - that downtown El Paso just
happens to be where most El Pasoans actually lived before the city got so big! To make things worse, it is as if now Council
thinks that downtown just is not worthy of actually being inhabited.
As a reminder of some of our history, I would like to relate
part of one historical event from El Paso's past that is verifiable. I think that I read about this in a book by
our own Leon Metz, mostly because his is the only name that comes to mind when
thinking about El Paso historians (Although the last name, Mangan, might be
involved). To make this a longer story,
though, let me begin with a little personal history.
I graduated from El Paso Community College with an Associate
Degree in Nursing, in August of 1976. I
had been working part time at El Paso's only Catholic hospital, as a student
Nurse, up until that time. As soon as I
passed my State Boards, and received my Nursing License, in March of 1977, I
moved to what was then a relatively new Sierra Medical Center. I worked on what was called a Medical floor,
and most of our patients were non-surgical and/or non-orthopedic. We also took care of people whose surgical
procedures had been complicated, raising their risk of infection, and making
their care more intense, and prolonged.
In the late spring of 1977, we received a patient from
surgery, whose routine gall bladder surgery had proven to be very complicated,
and whose chance of recovery was not considered to be very good. This lady, whose name was Nettie Manigold,
was at the time about 79 years old.
Nettie quickly proved her doctors wrong, and earned the respect and
admiration of all who came into contact with her. She was the most compliant patient I ever
personally worked with, and she did everything we ever asked her to do, which
of course helped her to not only recover, when it had been thought she might
not, but to recover rather quickly.
For some strange reason, as she got better and better, she
got it fixed in her mind that I had done something extraordinary to "save
her life," when in fact the single most contributing factor in her rapid
improvement had to be her single minded purpose in working so hard to do all
the things that we, her caregivers, asked of her.
Well, I was getting ready to change jobs about the same time
that Nettie came up for her discharge, and we exchanged contact
information. From the moment that she
left the hospital, and I left that same hospital's employ, Nettie, and later,
her husband, Jesse, became my personal patients. No, no, no.
Nothing formal, but since I went into Public Health Nursing, and I was
working out of a clinic not too far from where they lived, they started by
coming to the clinic once a month or so, to have their blood pressure checked,
and to talk about how they were doing healthwise.
I know this may be hard to believe, but El Paso once had a
Public Health Department that was formally known as the El Paso City/County
Health Department, and the City and the County shared the budget for the
operations, which delivered services to the entire county. There were clinics from the Upper Valley, out
to Fabens. Plus, of course, different
sections of the Department delivered services like Animal Control (that's
right; animal control was under the purview of the Health Department), Vector
Control (mosquitoes and various pests), Food Handlers' classes and cards and
inspections of restaurants and businesses involved in food preparation. Out of the neighborhood clinics we provided
newborn visits (yes, we actually visited people in their homes), well baby
examinations, immunizations (free of charge, if you can believe it), and
general educational services about public health.
But, to get back to my story, I began to go visit Nettie and
Jessie, in their little home in the heart of Tigua, so as to save them the
trips to the clinics where I worked. You
see, Jesse had retired in 1950, after working for first, the Police Department,
and then, the Fire Department. They
owned a very old Chevy, about a 1949 or 50, two door model. They were on a fixed income that was already
27 years old, so obviously, they did not have disposable income.
Their little house?
It was located on a plot of land that Jesse had purchased in the depths
of the depression. He had built the
house himself, as I recall. This was on
a short, little street known as West Drive.
I think the house is gone now, because nothing looks familiar when I
drive by. The house had been built of
adobe and, by 1977, was in pretty sad condition.
Well, over time I learned a bit about Jesse's history, as
well as Nettie's. He was usually not
around on my visits, except to get his blood pressure checked, and then he
would go off to a back room. But, Nettie
told me that he had been one of the first motorcycle cops in El Paso, and that
he changed from being a cop to being a fireman because it was considered to be
safer work. She did not tell me that he
must have been an awesome policeman, but I learned that from the book I
mentioned, by Leon Metz.
At one time, long ago, likely in the 1920's or 30's, there
was an entire area of town to which certain enterprises were confined. The police allowed prostitution, gambling,
and lots of drinking in an area that ran roughly from Chihuahuita, to La Bowie
(the original Bowie). Recent reports
about tearing down one old building for the new arena reminded me of this
particular incident. One of those old
buildings was once a house of ill repute, I believe?
Not necessarily at that same location, but somehow I think
over closer to South 4th, 5th, or maybe 6th, and likely near Mesa, there
occurred an incident in which my friend, Jesse Manigold, figured very
prominently. It seems that one of the ladies
of the evening betook overmuch of whatever was usually served to the paying
customers, and got crazy drunk. She was
waving a gun around, threatening all and sundry. The cops moved folks out of the way, and
tried to figure out what to do to control the situation. Somebody, perhaps the lady herself, mentioned
that "Jess" Manigold was needed because she either liked him, or
responded to him in a positive way. So,
he was sent for, and in true Western style, he "went in alone," and
persuaded her to give up the gun, and the entire incident ended without harm
coming to anyone.
The report of this incident was told in a rather humorous
fashion, and Jesse came out of it as the hero that he evidently was. My point is that history of this nature is
indeed getting lost, and the quicker those old buildings are torn down, the
quicker everyone will have forgotten that El Paso's past is colorful and
exciting. Personally, I find it very
sad.
I think that present City Council somehow believes that
history is so insignificant, that it can be best ignored and should be thrown
out like the baby with the bath water.
Tear this down, revitalize downtown, renew, and build things, not for
dwellings, but for purposes that will leave large structures mostly empty and
unused for most of the time. Downtown is
not really for people to live in, you know.
It's like they do not realize that downtown is actually where El Paso's
people used to live.
No comments:
Post a Comment