Originally published on 7/20/2024
My mother- and father-in-law (I call them Mom and Dad) passed away in 2010 and 2019, respectively. When Mom died, Dad decided not to bury her ashes then. Instead, he would like us to bring them back to their hometown after he also passed. He said practically, “No need to make the trip twice”.
However, soon after Dad passed away, the world was hit by the pandemic. When the isolation finally subsided, V’s sister P and her wife D spent lots of time and effort cleaning out Mom and Dad’s house in Albuquerque and put it on sale. Last summer we had a family reunion to celebrate our daughter’s college graduation. Only till this summer could we take them home.
Dad grew up in a small town called Salida in Colorado. Salida, meaning “exit” in Spanish, was named because it is situated near the point where the Arkansas River flows out of the valley. Even though Dad moved away after college, he frequently took his family home in the summer or holidays, so this town is very dear to V and his two sisters, K and P.
We all flew to P and D’s home and stayed the night. The next morning, V drove a 7-seater SUV to take us along with Mom and Dad’s ashes to Salida, which is 285 miles north.
Dad had a wooden box made long ago to bring him and Mom to the final resting place. He had been putting items he wished to take with him to this box, but only till the departure day did I see what was inside.
There was his childhood teddy bear, and an old sweater so he wouldn’t “get cold”. It touched my heart to see that he also put in a stack of letters and cards we wrote him. These are mostly emails I wrote, or arts that our daughter made when she was little. He had carefully glued them to photo album inserts and cherished them all this time.
(Inside the box. Upper left are the letters and cards)
I took out the letters and cards to take pictures before putting them back to the box carefully. I read each of the letters after getting back home, and let the grateful feeling wash over me as they brought back lots of precious memories. Below are some examples:
When Mom and Dad treated us children to a Hawaii trip to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary, V wrote a card on behalf of all of us to thank them. This card was also in the box.
Dad also kept the booklet Mom received when she attended her 50th anniversary college reunion.
V and my wedding invitation was also kept nicely. Even though we were married in US, our invitation was printed bilingually in the Taiwanese style, with invitation coming from the groom’s parents. This showed how much Mom and Dad appreciated my culture and I will always be grateful.
We brought the wooden box to the car first, then put in containers of the ashes (Mom, Dad, and the last three dogs they had). Then it’s time to take them home.
The scenery from Albuquerque to Salida is stunning. The highway extended through flat valleys that are surrounded by mountains. We moved smoothly ahead under the brightly lit blue sky and white clouds. One stretch of the road (marked in orange in the map below) is nicknamed as the “gun barrel”, because it’s as straight as the barrel of a shotgun. (Officially it's the highway 285 which is parallel to the stretch we drove that was named the "gun barrel" highway, but the stretch we took was straight enough.)
(You can see that the road we took was surrounded by mountains)
(The mountain far ahead is the San Antonio Mountain, which is located at the state line between New Mexico and Colorado. This is the road that Mom and Dad took to bring two young daughters to Salida after they moved to New Mexico, therefore it’s a familiar scenery for V’s two sisters K and P. Dad called this mountain “Antelope”, so P couldn’t help herself to point out the “Antelope” mountain when she saw it that day.)
This is what the “Antelope” mountain looked like when we drove closer:
Some part of the valley was full of yellow flowers. I love the layers of the green colors from the mountains.
There is a stretch of light brown color underneath the mountain. That is the Great Sand Dunes National Park:
The gun barrel highway is indeed very straight. One could drive over the speed limit and not know it.
There are some farm houses at the foot hills:
As we got closer to Salida, suddenly we saw lots of pine trees by the road. No wonder when we were driving in North California, V would mention that it reminded him of Colorado.
(There is still snow on the mountain top.)
Finally, we arrived in Salida in mid-afternoon.
There were silver and other mines in the mountains in the old days. The railroad tracks were narrower so that trains can maneuver more nimbly in the mountain. Salida was the location where the narrow railroad tracks meet the wider tracks, so the trains will meet up here to continue to move the goods downhill. V’s great grandfather moved from West Virginia to Salida, and his job was a brakeman on the train. We have a family picture in which we believe he is the person on the left.
We have two other pictures of Salida from 1880 and 1888, in which railroad tracks and the roundhouse can be seen. The mountain is part of the scenery as well.
The mines were later closed, and new railroad tracks were built elsewhere, so trains no longer pass through Salida. There is only an old caboose located at the hillside to remember the past time.
（The picture was taken by V in 2014. The railroad that passed Salida was called Denver and Rio Grande Western, abbreviated as “Rio Grande”.）
V’s great grandfather married a local lady in Salida. Her Dad Louis Wenz had a furniture business in town, and it also sold coffins. Apparently the coffin business was more stable, so he later transitioned to the undertaker business. Mr. Wenz was also a mayor at some point. The plaque at the bridge across the Arkansas River in town has his name on it.
(The bridge was built in 1900)
(The bridge was built while Louis Wenz was the mayor)
The Arkansas River is a popular place for rafting:
(There is a “S” written on the hill, representing “Salida”)
Louis Wenz’s mortuary was called “Wenz and Son”. But his son didn’t take over the business, as he chose to leave town. V’s great grandfather was in the train business initially. But since his father-in-law’s undertaker business was prosperous, he eventually took over and later changed the name to Stewart Mortuary.
(V loves trains all his life. I wonder if it’s because the blood of his great grandfather is still in him.)
V’s great grandfather passed his mortuary business to his oldest son, V’s grandfather. V’s grandfather not only was the business owner of the mortuary, he was also the elected county coroner. As a person devoted to education, he was a member of the school board for thirty years, the last ten as Chairman. He was kind and outgoing, and was well known to the town. V remembers that whenever they went out, his “Pappy” would frequently touch his hat brim to acknowledge acquaintances he encountered. As an undertaker, they not only took care of the funeral, Pappy would also guide the family with the assistances they need. Many widows wrote down the first check in their life through Pappy’s assistance.
V's grandfather had three sons. V’s Dad, the oldest son, received a PhD degree from the University of Iowa. He devoted his career to treat hearing disabilities of the native Indian children. The second and third sons were both physicians, so they didn’t take over family business as well. However, V's Dad and his brothers helped out family business when they can. Even to V’s generation, they were also put to work. V often stayed with his grandparents in Salida in the summer. After he became a teenager, he would help out the mortuary business, including being the driver who transported corpses to the mortuary. He continued to work for the mortuary in the summer till he graduated from college. V’s two young sisters also helped dusting the pews in the mortuary chapel. Pappy often took the little granddaughters to the bar for a drink, except he had to order a double Manhattan since he needed to give one cherry (from the drink) to each of the girls.
(V's grandfather and his three sons. V's dad was on the right side. His expression reminds me of V.)
Below is V’s Dad’s childhood picture. The mountain can be seen in the background:
The picture below showed V and his young sisters (they are 8 and 9 years younger than him) near Salida. There was also the beautiful mountain in the background:
When V was 8 years old, Pappy made a “Deputy Coroner” badge for him. In the picture below, V was sitting on Pappy’s lap, touching his badge, so happy and proud. On the edge of the picture, V’s Mom wrote “Coroner Pappy” on top, “and Deputy” on the bottom.
(V still kept the “Deputy Coroner” badge till this day. The “6” on the bottom showed that he was the 6th deputy. Pappy probably counted his real assistants, all his sons, and grandson V.)
Below are pictures of The Stewart Mortuary back then:
(V found this picture from the website of property tax record.)
(The white and red building across from the gas station was the mortuary)
The mortuary was closed after V’s grandfather passed away. The building also passed hands several times. It’s now a Mexican restaurant. V took us for a tour after he explained to the restaurant staff that we used to own the building.
(The mortuary building is long and narrow. The alley next to the building can be used to park cars.)
(This used to be the chapel where the funerals took place. We still kept one of the pews from this chapel at our home.)
There is a curved door that separated the chapel and grandfather’s office. There used to be beautiful stained glass, but unfortunately it’s gone.
Below is the picture that V took in 2014. The building was a pizza restaurant back then.
Grandfather’s office was behind the door:
Looking from the “office” towards front:
Another important building is their grandparents’ house. Below is an old picture of the house in the winter, covered by snow and shining under the sun:
Even though the lawn has not been maintained well, the house is still beautiful:
(The plaque on the wall described that the house, built in 1908, is on the list of “National Register of Historic Places”.)
There used to be a swing hanging from the roof at the side front porch. Family would sit on the swing and watch people go by.
(The stained glass behind is beautiful)
Take a closer look:
The picture below was taken from the Zillow website, showing the beautiful stained glass from inside the house. The statue holidng the lamp was also very special:
The 2nd floor bedroom used to be V’s 3rd uncle’s bedroom. After he moved out, this became V’s room when he visited in the summer. The edge of the balcony and the gable were full of interesting details.
A back porch was added later. This became the family room, where meals were served and television was watched. The small dining table in the family room was later given to V, and we are still using the same table for our daily meals.
There was also a detached garage in the back:
The garage faced an unpaved back alley. Trash cans can be pushed onto this back alley so the trash can be collected out of the way.
This house was full of happy memories for V and his sisters. A Christmas tree would be erected at the front entry by the stairs. It was so tall that the girls had to climb the stairs to decorate the tree. One summer V came to visit grandparents. As he rushed into the house, he was surprised that there wasn’t a Christmas tree. He asked where the tree was, not knowing that it’s a special fixture of the holiday.
(The picture above was also taken from the Zillow website. The stairs went up like this, and the Christmas Tree was positioned in front of the stairs.)
As we walked by the grand house, memories rushed back and it made us miss the deceased generations even more.
We also saw the golf course that was important to V.
Whenever the mortuary business was slow, V would come here to play golf. He has always been an introvert, rarely shows his feelings. Perhaps because of this, his hobbies are also mostly things he can do by himself. I think of the young V swinging his clubs under the blue sky and grand mountains, alone but content. Chinese said that “kind people are drawn to mountains”. V is indeed considerate and caring. I wonder if it’s partly due to the influence from these mountains and open scenery.
(This beautiful golf course is part of V’s precious youth memory)
Finally, V drove us up the Tenderfoot Hill to see the full scenery of the town. V used to hike up this hill with his Dad, so this is also part of his cherished memories.
(This town quietly laid beneath the mountain, witnessing all the happy and sad life events, generations after generations.)
We took a group picture with the mountain as our backdrop. It’s windy on the top of the hill, making our hair fly up. I suddenly remembered that, in certain traditions, on the day of the funeral, one would drive the coffin through all the familiar environment related to the deceased. It’s a way to mark the end of a life. V drove us through all the important locations that day. In a way we also took Mom and Dad in the back of the car to visit these important places one more time. If they could see us remaking all the precious life events as we visited the mortuary, grandparents’ the house and hill, would they have felt our love?
Except we would be saying the permanent goodbye to them the next day….
(To be continued)
