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Excerpts from Abe Peña's  Memories of Cibola

All material used with the kind permission of the author, given to me personally.

from NAVAJOLAND
"Paddy Martinez, the Navajo Indian who discovered uranium in the Grants area in 1950, was inducted into the National Mining Hall of Fame on October 18, 1992. The Navajo Tribal Council declared October 18 Paddy Martinez Day. This remarkable man was trilingual--he spoke Navajo, Spanish, and English. When asked what he was, he sometimes answered, with tongue in cheek, 'Half Navajo, half Spanish, and half Mormon!' His Hispanic friends called him by his given name, 'Julián.'


I remember first seeing Paddy in San Mateo about 1936, where he was riding his horse during the San Juan Fiestas. The fiestas were celebrated annually on June 24, in honor of John the Baptist. Paddy was among a number of horsemen preparing to 'correr el gallo,' run the rooster pull. He was tall and had an athletic body 'a la John Wayne,' which was an advantage in the rooster pull and in all other aspects of life in the great outdoors. He and his brothers rode their ponies about fifteen miles from Haystack to join the festivities. Paddy's long arms and riding ability made him very competitive with some of the fine riders from our village, such as Marcelino Jaramillo, Salvador Chávez, Ismael Salazar, Telesfor Gonzales, my uncle Abelicio Peña, Vidal Laure, and others.


In those days it was against the law to sell liquor to Indians. However, Paddy had a lot of friends, and a passing bottle didn't make any judgments! The misguided law was repealed in 1947, the same year the Indians were given the right to vote. Time were tough then. People had to match the times and did what they could to make a living during the Great Depression of the 1930s. Among other things Paddy and his clan picked piñons when there was a crop. He like the San Mateo Mountains, where they joined hundreds from San Mateo and other villages to harvest the crop. Covered wagons overflowing with families and provisions slowly made their winding way to the top of the mountain, in search of the best area to gather the savory nut. They returned to San Mateo loaded with piñons, usually bagged in 100-pound gunny sacks.


Mr. Merhage Michael and his family had a general merchandise store and bought a lot of piñons. I recall the Michael warehouse stacked to the ceiling with stacks. Later they trucked them to Grants and loaded the nuts in railroad cars for shipping to eastern markets.


Paddy and his clan were also sheep owners and sheep shearers. They contracted with local sheepmen to shear their sheep... I remember around 1938 their colorful group arriving by wagon and horseback at el Rancho de la Punta to shear our sheep. My father had leased the ranch from the Fernandez Company. Paddy drove the men hard and was enraged if they didn't shear at least thirty sheep a day each, with their rustic hand shears and bare torsos in the hot days of June. Australians today can shear as many as six hundred, at blinding speed, with electric shears! To feed the shearers and herders we generally butchered a sheep a day and roasted the meat on the open fire, balancing the meal with a pot of chile and breles baked in Dutch ovens and savored with coffee brewed in gallon-sized pots over the fire.


When carrots became big business in the Grants area, in the 1940s, Paddy contracted with the farmers to provide laborers. He played a big part in bringing the Navajo people into the cash economy. He transported men, women, and children by the truckload to work the carrot fields. The vibrant colors of the Navajo velveteen blouses merging with the deep green carrot tops and golden carrots provided a most colorful spectacle during the harvest west of town. Paddy's leadership and influence grew.
In 1950 he picked up a yellow rock near his hogan near Haystack and brought it into town. He had heard that yellow rocks might contain a valuable mineral. At the Bond-Gunderson store, he sought out his friend Carroll Gunderson and showed him the rock. The interesting find drew the attention of some passing geologist friends of the Gundersons, who took it to be assayed. It was uranium, and the rest is well-known history by now.


The discovery of uranium was made on land to which the Santa Fe Railroad held the mineral rights, and the Haystack mine was developed there. The railroad and Anaconda put Paddy on the payroll as a uranium scout and paid him four hundred dollars per month, 'for as long as he lived.' That was a big paycheck in those days. Prosperity did not change his lifestyle. He did buy a white house in the village of Bluewater, then built a hogan next to it, where he lived for a while, 'and the chickens used the house,' he told me. Then he moved back home to Haystack, his beloved Navajoland.


In the 1960s Paddy attended a Knights of Columbus picnic at Bluewater Lake, where he sat crosslegged on the ground, grinding out humorous stories for dozens of people gathered around him. He told of the Navajo stopping at an isolated Hispanic homestead late one afternoon. "They sat him by the door while the family ate. Finally the Navajo asked the man of the house, 'Say friend, how much is a ball of gold about this size worth [holding his hands together to indicate about the size of a baseball]? Immediately the family invited him to the table and served him a generous portion. The Hispanic was dying to ask about the gold, but waited until the Navajo was through eating, then asked, 'Where did you find this ball of gold?' The Navajo, grinning sheepishly, answered, 'I haven't found one--I'm asking just in case I find one!'" Paddy slapped his thigh, "This Navajo outsmarted the Mexican!" and bellowed in laughter.


Paddy raised a large family. Most of his surviving children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and great great grandchildren still live in the Haystack country. In his final years, he spent most of his time on a sheepskin on the earthen floor, 'next to mother nature' in his large and comfortable hogan, telling everyone, 'Nobody comes to visit me.' I used to visit him from time to time, and others did too; and members of his family used to visit quite often. Once I stopped to ask permission to cross a herd of cattle across his land, on the trail to the Zuni Mountains. At that time he could no longer walk, and he told me, 'Drive them right by my door so I can see them and hear them and smell them.' When I went back later to thank him for letting us cross his land, he said, 'I belong out there riding Boots west into the setting sun with the wind in my face.' Boots was his favorite horse.


In 1969 Paddy made his last ride. His indomitable spirit rode quiety into the setting sun. His tombstone at Grants Memorial Cemetery simply reads, 'Paddy Martinez 1881 - 1969 Uranium Pioneer.' He rests a stones throw from Paddy Martinez Park, where children play."