April Quisenberry Pruitt. Photo by Janet Anderson.

As a child in southern California, I loved the architecture of the missions, the Mexican music, and the trips with classmates to Olvera Street, a mock Mexican town in Los Angeles. Later, in Colorado I became aware of the indigenous side of the story. These Spanish and their missions didn’t just arrive into empty land, but into a rich indigenous culture. The ways that the natives lived, their homes, families, music, art, what they ate, how they entertained themselves, and especially their spirituality began to become more and more interesting. Many of my friends, both when I was a child and young adult, were of Spanish or Mexican heritage and I was further attracted by the stories of my parents’ trips to Mexico, where my mother explored the area while my father painted.

Although there was ample opportunity for exposure to Spanish/Mexican architecture and culture for me in California and Colorado, firsthand knowledge of the indigenous peoples was slight. As an adult living and working with various Coast Salish Native peoples in the Pacific Northwest and Inupiat and Yup’ik (Eskimos) in Alaska, it was my chance to learn from actual participation rather than just from books. I never lost my love, however, for the Spanish architecture and for the Mexican people. And I did learn. In the 60s, while living in Kotzebue, an Inupiat village in Arctic Alaska, I had even proposed to build a Spanish or Moorish design house with an interior courtyard, rather than a typical Eskimo house that was open to the beach, to facilitate use of the resources of the sea. I was nearly laughed out of the village, since my Mexican house would surely fill up with drifted snow. The idea of an enclosed house was anathema to the Inupiat, whose dwellings are open to all who wish to enter and to whom the ownership of the land is as foreign as a walled garden.

In 1984, as my husband, Rod, and I made the transition from commercial salmon trolling and fish camps to our more traditional careers, we found ourselves with a winter free before our new life began. We packed up our three kids and spent the winter in Zihuatanejo and San Miguel de Allende. I knew that I must find a way to stay in Mexico.

In 2003 we found ourselves once again without obligation and with an opportunity to come to Mexico for a while. Jeannie Carpenter, Diane’s daughter, suggested we come down to Alamos and stay in Diane’s house. Although still in Alaska herself, Diane graciously agreed and gave us a long list of people to meet and things to do. We were in that beautiful house for about four months and spent each summer afterward renting various places in Alamos. One of those summers we found a little three-room Mexican house in El Perico with a large lot and five mature fruit trees. Perfect!

When Rod and I retired from school administration and youth wellness program administration in Alaska, we began to remodel the house and only had to go back to work in the States once to get doors and windows on it. Teaching on the Jicarilla Apache Nation in New Mexico for two years was an adventure more than a job for me.

All of these things brought me here but on a “long and winding road” that passed through tipis and tents, babies and teenagers, gurus, shamans, fishing boats, and even silk-shirt-and-high-heel jobs. The road always pointed me toward Alamos. There was a way all along to earn money in Alaska and live in Mexico; it’s called retirement and it took us many more years to reach that goal. Now that we’re back in Alamos, I have been able to continue learning about indigenous cultures of this wonderful country, thanks to my dear friend, Elena Chavarría.

Photo by Patty Hosmer, Footprints Photography.

I learned to love Sonora young in life; some of the sweetest memories I have are on the beach in Puerto Penasco in the 60s when it was a tiny fishing village with one small 12-room motel.

Fast forward 25+ years: married with kids of my own, Tommy and Laura, then four and two. My husband, Dave, and I decided to take a six-month “sabbatical.” After considering a few options we decided to do a stint in Alamos for cultural exposure. Friends from Tucson and Puerto Penasco, the Rollings, had property in Alamos and helped us find a place to rent one Christmas vacation for a “Look-See.” It didn’t take us long to commit to a long term rental and move down—for what grew into seven years.

The first house we rented ran out of water when the weather got hot and dry, but I had volunteered on the house and garden tour and knew many of the homes well. I thought I could find another house quickly. Barbara Schofield reached out a friendly hand by letting us stay at her house until we could find another place. We ended up renting the home of Dr. Antonio Acosta and his wife, Lorna Pabst. Dave and Antonio became business partners in commercial honey production and elastomeric roof coatings, and Lorna and I discovered we have an uncanny multitude of life experiences in common. We loved living there, but it did take me months of chasing the Telemex guy around in the wash to finally get the phone hooked up!

One day Dave suggested I go by an estate sale to look at some chairs. I liked the chairs, but I liked the house more and wanted to invest. It was in desperate need of TLC. We rationalized we could renovate it while living there, and sell it for a profit when we left. Well, we did fix it up, but we never did sell!

We made many friends in both the Mexican Community and among the ex-patriots. The history of Alamos is fascinating, but the generosity of spirit and simplicity of life was truly the best. People could not have been more welcoming to our little family. We were included in parties, family gatherings, carpools, and patient friends helped us get through PTA meetings when we had trouble understanding. I volunteered with the Comadres, organized rebuilding/upgrading of the bathrooms at Bartolome, enjoyed potlucks with Las Lunas, and relaxed at many “cafes” playing loteria. The kid’s friends learned to swim in our pool. I didn’t worry when the kids were out on their bikes because everybody knew them and kept an eye out for their welfare too.

For several years Jennifer MacKay and I would meet every morning in front of Bartolome and run out toward the dump, then back into town on the backside. Those mornings were so beautiful. Three days a week we’d follow our run with Mary Lynne’s excellent yoga class. What a great way to start a day.

We kept a huge garden at our house, and one of the greatest luxuries was to just wander around before dinner picking what looked good that day. David MacKay grew a number of very select vegetables in our garden and in trade he said we could pick what he grew too. That was a very satisfying arrangement!

Teri Arnold Shannon welcomed me to town, became a good friend, helped me through diets happily, and generally was ready to instigate an activity or dinner at the drop of a hat. She still adds so much to all our lives—from exquisite catering and parties of her own, to the general flare she carries around brightening the spirits of all, to her capacity to listen and empathize. My first evening in Alamos was spent drinking wine with her and trading stories, no wonder I stayed.

Alamos attracts interesting women. Leila Gillette was one of the first ladies I met. She was, and is, an inspiration. Ginger Combs was another gifted person I was lucky enough to get to know. She practices Reiki, and sometimes I think she knew my thoughts and condition even better than I did. She rehabilitated my running and tennis injuries regularly. Sadnah explained that, “the veil is thin” in Alamos, that’s why we have such a presence of ghosts. I loved each and every one of the energetic young teachers we recruited to run the English School of Alamos, and enjoyed many fascinating clients who bought and sold property with my help. Las Lunas—the once-a-month ladies potluck—was something I looked forward to.

Alamos celebrations we attended were the best ever. The dining and dancing that went on when the dove hunters were in town, weddings, and New Year’s Eve were exquisite. The Mills, Shannons, Stewarts, Scotts—they were all so generous—their parties were among the finest I have ever attended. We danced all night savoring the mariachis and friends accompanying the musicians with song as the night wore on. I remember one Ortiz Tirado Festival when we were on the balcony of the Palacio (great spot!) and everyone there joined in singing. Food for the soul.

Special memories of the kids are endless too—parades and more parades, Laura doing her poesia before the town council when she was in 3^rd grade, and dancing folklorico in the plaza during December festivities. Her graduation from kinder was an all day event with skits, luncheon, and a formal dance (she danced with the Presidente, Poncho Valenzuela). Tommy’s favorite afternoon activity was to go out hunting with his air gun and then prepare dove breasts wrapped with bacon on the hibachi. Once we took the kids out to a mine Robert Mark Anthony was working and we got to see them blast. (Wow!) Tommy played baseball in the stadium and was a formidable competitor. Once, when Tommy was about seven, he got picked from the audience to be a volunteer at the circus. He was so funny we cried laughing so hard—he got free popcorn and a coke out of the deal. Pablo Mejia gave both kids horseback riding lessons at Rancho La Colorada. Joan Gould taught them to make paper. Elizabeth Nuzum and local seamstresses made them formal wear and costumes for special events. Laura and the MacKay girls sold bolsas of naranjitas smashed up with chili and salt from our door stoop using Laura’s karaoke machine to broadcast their goods for sale. They went to horse races on ranches and Tommy rode the mechanical bull in the wash, one Cinco de Mayo. We enjoyed plenty of fireworks at Camahuiroa, too!!

There is no question Alamos was an amazing experience for the whole family. Alamos will always be with me, forever a sweet spot in my heart.

LeeAnn Wehr. Photo by Jim Wehr.

I came into this world as the first of seven children born to loving and supportive parents. Being the oldest, I learned about integrity, work ethic, high standards, and expectations for myself. I grew up, lived, studied, and worked in Nebraska until 1971 when I moved to Colorado with my first husband to teach high school Spanish and English. The beauty of the mountains and Estes Park attracted us in our search of self discovery.

A mutual love of travel ignited a healthy relationship of over 32 years with my current husband, Jim. He supports me, encourages me, and allows me to be the Light that I Am. Together we’ve explored South America, where we married at Machu Picchu. We continued our travels into Central America and Mexico, New Zealand, and Europe. The tranquility and peace of Alamos, Sonora, Mexico drew us to purchase a lovely home there. As we enjoyed 12 winters there, I immersed myself in the Mexican culture and service work. Alamos, enchanting place that it is, attracted me the moment we entered town: The charm of the colonial architecture, the small town atmosphere where everyone is friendly and open encouraged us to stay, along with the beauty of the surrounding mountains and the peace and tranquility. Fond memories of hikes, social gatherings, fundraising for Amigos de Educacion de Alamos and Comadres bring a smile to my face, as a parade of wonderful characters walks before me.

Not everyone is “brave” enough to venture into Mexico or even buy property and live there. But that makes the “gringos” that do so a very interesting and eclectic group of people. It’s a gathering place for the more adventuresome and curious. Alamos attracts GREAT women, and I will always hold a special place in my heart for the dear friends I met there. And even today I count them in my “special people” category!

I found the time, energy and courage to begin my career in energy medicine, healing, and the sharing of my knowledge in Alamos. Today I look back at those beginning times and am amazed at how much has transpired, and how we have all shifted and changed.

Another learning experience during this time, breast cancer, prompted me to heal myself and, after a promise to help others, I began my quest to assist others. And now 25 years later I’m still sharing my time and energy with clients and working with another wonderful scholarship program.

We currently reside in San Carlos, Sonora, Mexico. My strong connection to nature guided me here (plus my husband’s love of the water, boating, and fishing) to learn from and play with the whales and dolphins, as well as understand the strength, power, and flow of water. The constant flow of energy and synchronicities permit me to seek what calls me and follow to where I’m guided.

Janet Anderson.

by Joan Gould Winderman

Janet arrived in Alamos ready to take on the enormous project of designing a world-class hotel and restaurant by herself. She is originally from New Orleans and is unique in the expat community with her southern accent and manner. She brought with her gorgeous furnishings and a sense of style that have blossomed into the Hotel Colonial, where many Mexican families now come from all over Sonora to celebrate weddings and family reunions in the lovely garden surroundings. For a time she operated a restaurant with the best pizzas in all of Alamos. She too has offered her help and kitchen in times of emergency, as when Alamos was flooded. And we all remember those Mardi Gras parties celebrated for the first time in Alamos. The little red Alamos train snaked through the streets spraying beads and getting everybody’s attention.

Betsy Maier. Photo by her granddaughter.

Retired at last. Twenty solid years of serving people: seniors, staff, families, and Tennessee corporate bosses. Phew, I was pooped, burned out and ready to get the heck out of Dodge. Vic and I were prepared, after years of research, on how we were going to retire in Mexico. We wanted the brilliant blues, the bright colors of the textiles, but mostly the company of the warm welcoming people. We had a spot picked out: Ajijic. From all the brochures and articles it seemed perfect to live on Lake Chapela. Our corporate lives had taken us from Milwaukee to Tucson, to Western North Carolina, and ultimately to Oregon. We now craved a simple life of activities that would stretch our minds by learning a new language and culture, and provide an environment for creativity.

House was sold, items packed and stored, all arrangements for departure complete. Except for one last doctor’s appointment, we were ready. In five minutes it was all changed. The doctor looked at his computer reports and then viewed the two of us across the desk, “Vic, you have two to five years to live.” We were told there was no cure or treatment, and suggested that we go and enjoy what time was left. He suggested that we not live at high altitudes and so we followed the advice of a friend in Tucson—to check out Alamos. We arrived one Friday evening in March, met a few local folks over a margarita, went on a house tour on Saturday, looked at houses for sale on Monday, and made an offer on Tuesday.

Alamos. It’s been about new caring friendships and swinging into the flow of another culture. It’s been about renewal of spirit and happiness that can arrive from adapting to situations beyond one’s control. Learning that solitude is fulfilling, especially when companionable lunch or dinner is just a phone call away.

My daughter and her family moved to Guadalajara about six months after I did. My two granddaughters, Lucy and Lily, delight me with their language skills. Although it’s a long drive down, it provides an opportunity to experience more of our beautiful Mexico.

My days are spent playing with my hobbies and with my friends. My days are rich and glorious. I am a very fortunate woman to live in Mexico.

Barbara Kirbach. Photo by Joan Gould Winderman.

I first learned of its healing powers during my first visit to Alamos in 196l. Our two-month-old baby had just died from a birth defect and my husband, Dave, and I decided to take a trip to the little town to recover. Dave had visited Alamos while dove hunting in Navojoa and was awed by its charm and beauty. From the time we landed at its grassy airstrip, I was comforted by the warmth of its soft, sweet air.

Thus began a series of visits and then a three-year rental of Kathy Rodriguez’ home. We were able to leave our home in Palos Verdes, California on a Friday afternoon in our small plane and enjoy a long weekend in Alamos at least once a month. We were immediately made to feel welcome by friends like the Windermans, the Nuzums, the Cunninghams, and the Schofields during our frequent dinners at Los Tesoros. We soon decided this was where we wanted to retire. In the early 90’s we began house hunting in earnest. At one point, Joan Winderman said it was time to fish or cut bait, and we purchased our 250-year-old home at 20 Calle Obregon.

With the help of my dear friend, Sandra Felando, who was a talented interior designer and had a family history in Mexico, we set out to return the home to its Colonial roots. Our first step was to measure every inch of the 6000-square-foot plus house to see what furniture in our Palos Verdes home would fit. We then traveled to Guanajuato and San Miguel de Allende, Talaquepaque, and Tonala to purchase furniture, glassware, pottery, and terra cotta pavers for the floors. Thanks to Sandy, when the movers arrived with all our possessions, we knew exactly where they could put them. After trips to Bev Krucek’s art gallery and Hector’s gift shop we were ready to host our first T.G.I. F. I subsequently added some beautiful paintings by dear friends such as Jim Wilson and Babs Watson.

Because I had enjoyed many of the house and garden tours and felt so strongly about education for the Alamos youth, I joined Los Amigos de Educacion and became its leader. As a former cable television marketing executive, I drew up a budget, established committees and held regular board meetings. (Joan found these boring and preferred to volunteer for the Saturday tours!) Dave lent his legal skills to drawing up our by-laws and gaining tax deductable status for the organization. Because our house was within walking distance of the hotels where the tours buses parked, I believe we led over a 1000 tourists through our home during a season. Our efforts were more than rewarded at the annual gathering of what would become 300 scholarship students and we heard how much the opportunity to gain an education had meant to them. My favorite story was from a young woman who was a medical student in Culiacan. But for the beca, only her brothers would have been allowed to go to school.

I also joined the Alamos Garden Club and my passion for gardening truly began. It was wonderful sharing seeds, cuttings, and advice on gardening in the deciduous tropics. When we had an exchange with the Tucson Garden Club, one woman asked for the name of that “beautiful blue-flowered vine in the lobby at Los Tesores.” (Thunbergia grandiflora) This prompted Joan, Stephanie Meyer, and I to try to identify all of the flowering vines in Alamos. We found that more than two-thirds of what have been described as “The Most Beautiful Vines in the World,” could be found in Alamos gardens and the surrounding countryside. This led to my writing, and Joan photographing, and Stephanie offering her botanical expertise to a book that we someday hope to publish.

One of my main challenges to living in Alamos was to learn to speak Spanish. I had studied Latin and French in high school and college, but no espanol. During my hour-long commute to Century City, I listened to The Granada School of Languages’ audio tapes over and over again. These gave me the basics in grammar. Then Joan, Elizabeth, Babs, and I gathered each week to watch the PBS series “Destinos.” It was such an engaging soap opera and its hero, Allejandro, was so handsome, we would not miss a single episode. Joan and I supplemented our sessions by studying with Hermalinda and tackling 3rd grade Mexican readers. I never became fluent, but was able to get by as long as everyone spoke slowly and avoided using a lot of idioms.

After 13 years in Alamos, our son and daughter asked us to “come home” to be more a part of theirs and their six children’s lives. However, it was with great sadness that we left our friends and our Mexican home. As Richard Elkus wrote in his book, Alamos, A

Philosophy in Living, “Each town in Mexico has is own character, its own style, its own life. In Spanish, they call it duende or elf, and every town has its own elfin charm—that colorful spark which contributes to the large canvas of the nation as a whole. It is quite possible that Alamos has more of the magical and elusive duende than any other town in that country….” I heartily agree.

Sonoma, California June, 2012

Trish Abramson. Photo by Jose Luis Villarreal (Joey).

I think it was 1991. I had gone to AAA to get a travel book on Mexico mainly for a Baja Trip from the Los Angeles area. After scanning through the book, I found a side trip that sounded way more interesting—the Copper Canyon. I told my friend, Elynn Eiss, about my find to see if she were interested in flying in from Florida and joining me in this adventure. She was! I should have known… she’s up for anything to do with travel! It was to be a driving trip and my research showed me that Alamos was enroute.

My husband at the time, Bernie, said he didn’t think we two “girls” should go alone so he joined us and we were off! (We really had wished to travel without him but we gave in and let him come along.)

On driving into Alamos on the street now known as “No Hay Paso,” we “Oh’d an Ah’d” as we found our way to our reservations at the Tesoros Hotel in rooms by the pool. I don’t even remember what month it was but we certainly loved the fireplace that was lit for us in the evening!

The night showed us a wonderful social happening sitting in the famous leather chairs on the portal. That first night we met so many interesting people. Elizabeth and Pember Nuzum, Gaye Billington… well, I cannot list them all. The Tesoros Hotel turned out to be the gathering place for many expats and locals every night.

After a few long walks and a house tour we three realized we were enchanted not only with the town, but also with the people. THEN when Virginia Cotton, #15 Comerció, showed us her house AND it was up for sale AND it had 13 fireplaces, swimming pool, many arches, beautiful Dolores Hildago tiles, sunken tiled tubs; “My Oh My”, we simply had to make an offer!

We had lived in Hollywood, California, since 1973 and had watched property values go crazy so we were unable to resist the values in Alamos.

Yes, we three finally made it to the Copper Canyon and glad we did, BUT we had left our hearts in Alamos.

Dottie Intorf. Photo by Joan Gould Winderman.

Dorothy Whitehouse
Dorothy and Bob Whitehouse came to Álamos in the late 1960s or early 1970s.
Their home at Galeana 54, was designed by their architect son, and is now, in 2012, owned by Tom Polk. Bob had retired in his fifties following a heart attack. Before arriving in Álamos, they had lived for several years in Cuernevaca.
Álamos is frequently referred to as an artists’ town, and Dorothy was one of them. Her preferred work was sculpture, and her material, a particular kind of heavy paper mache. Her figures were almost exclusively of the four apostles. She was a devout Episcopalian.

In 1979 or 1980 Dorothy had a painting class at her home. All were welcome and there was no charge. There were about 10 of us — some with real talent, such as Des Britton and Elizabeth Nuzum, and the rest of us were “wanna-be’s.” Dorothy’s favorite command to those of us who struggled was, “You must be more PAINTERLY!” We tried, but suffice it to say, my career as an artist was very brief. At the end of the season we did have a show at Hotel Los Tesoros where Dorothy insisted on displaying even my dismal effort. I can still see those very amateurish figures of children with balloons in their grasp. Our medium was chalk, and I did actually frame my picture of green tomatoes and it hung in my kitchen at home in Tahoe for many years.

Three of us women named Dorothy all had birthdays in late November: Dorothy Whitehouse, Dorothy Mueler, and me. For several years we celebrated at Las Palmas on the Plaza. Always present were Bill Wilkerson, Hector Valencia, Pat and Walter Crane, and Rosella and Dan Kreidt. That same group, with the exception of the Whitehouses and my husband, comprised a square dance club. We called ourselves the Brinkadores, (jumping beans) and Hector and Bill even had little enamel pins made for all of us.

Dorothy and Bob invested heavily in Mexican stocks, so the 1982 devaluation of the Mexican peso was devastating for them. However, they managed to continue to live the good life here. Their parties were quite formal, long dresses for the women, and suits and ties for the men. The Whitehouses were able to sell their house in 1989, and after having one more grand farewell party, they left Álamos. My husband and I moved a load of their belongs in our Ford van to their small apartment in the Catalina Foothills in Tucson. A dramatic change in their lifestyle. We continued to visit them there until their deaths.
A story about Dorothy is not complete without a word about the debonair Robert, who was her beloved husband. My favorite image of him is on his horse, sitting tall and formally dressed in perfect riding habit: white shirt, ascot tie, and a handsome tweed jacket. They were indeed an elegant couple.
Reminiscing about the past has been a rewarding and nostalgic experience. Writing about someone you have admired and loved is much easier than writing about self.

Gloria Mills
Gloria and her husband, Buck, first lived at Comercio #18. They soon began construction of the large and lovely home and casita, La Quinta, in the Chalaton. Gloria was a feisty, and lively young woman. I recall her comment when Barbara Brink invited the women of Álamos to a Christmas Cookie Exchange, “I am not going to all the work of baking cookies just to give them away!” La Quinta was, and is, a wonderful home for parties, and Gloria and Buck gave many of them, always attended by many residents of Navojoa, as well as their neighbors and Álamos friends. Buck was an avid hunter, and Gloria graciously hosted his friends who came to occupy the guest casita during hunting season. A sudden attack of a rare virus took Gloria’s life when she was just 59! I still miss her, she always had the coffee pot on! Álamos has been good to me and these friends of years ago all contributed to the fabric of my life. Now, in my 92nd year, I look forward to more winters in Álamos, truly a Pueblo Magico.
Martha Haywood and Judith Jacoby
Martha Haywood and her daughter, Judith Jacoby, were, for many years, the Patronas of Rancho La Colorado.

Martha Haywood
Martha and and her husband, Al Haywood, arrived in Álamos with their 17-year-old daughter, Judith, in 1954. Al bought hundreds of acres, extending from the highway over to, and partway up, Mount Álamos. The couple restored the old office of the Tequila Factory (in operation in the early 20th century) on the property into a small but charming hacienda with a long palm-lined driveway, beautiful formal gardens, a fruit orchard, and several out-buildings.
The big fiestas at Rancho Colorado were legend, and they were well-attended by the Mexican community, and from as far away as Huatabampo, as well as the local gringos.

When we met in 1977, Martha was recently widowed. She was a feisty little 4’11” lady. After her husband’s death, Martha became somewhat of a recluse. She occasionally visited Pat Manning’s mother, Ada Greever, who lived at Obregon #34. However, for the most part, she enjoyed her home, the gardens, and the lovely views.
My husband, Torf, and I were Martha’s only close neighbors at that time. Ramon Ortriz, our next door neighbor and Martha’s loyal friend and gardener, came often to our gate to announce that, “The Señora would like you to come at 5:30 for cocktails.” Thus, Torf became her frequent and favorite bartender. Usually it was the three of us. I well remember Martha’s dry comment after she gave the property for the hospital,“I might as well give it to them because they’ll take it anyway!”
After Martha could no longer make the long drive to Álamos, we saw her once more at her home in Massachusetts, where she was bedridden until her death in 1995 at age 96.
Judith Jacoby
Judith Jacoby now became the “patrona” of La Colorada. She was a lady in the true sense of the word. No one I have known has better deserved the name.
Because her husband, Dean, was still in the work force, she came each year for just six or eight weeks to Álamos.
We were still her closest neighbors, and she became our very dear friend. This time, she was more often at our house then we at hers!
Ramon continued to maintain the gardens, and Judith struggled with the maintenance of the aging hacienda. She did find time to enter in the life of our community, and still kept contact with her mother’s old friend in Huatabampo.
Judith supplied oranges for the food boxes that we assembled at Christmastime in the early years of the Comadres. And she always brought orange juice to the very special Easter sunrise services up on Guadalupe Hill at the home of Ann and Arch Gould—a wonderful tradition, sadly, now long gone!
A few years after Judith’s arrival, Ramon chose to “retire,” and Pablo and Carmen and family moved into the house next to the orchard. Pablo continued to produce magnificent flower garden borders. Sad to say they have now fallen into neglect.
Dean retired and they began to winter in Álamos. However, they had decided to put the hacienda and 10 acres surrounding on the market. It remains so today.
In the States, Judith spent much of her time working with and for her alma mater, which, as I recall, was Bryn Mawr.
In her final year in Álamos, Judith was suffering a great deal of back pain, and puzzled as to its source. When she returned to their home in Concord, Massachusetts, she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. She died at home the following November, with Dean caring for her to the end of her life. The following spring, Dean and his sons, Karl and Dean Albert, had a memorial service in the mosaic patio at La Colorado… and an era was at an end!
Mary Alice Montgomery, Rosella Kreidt and Dorothy Mueller
They all lived in Álamos during the 70s and 80s. The Montgomerys lived at Sonora #18, the Kreidts at Mina #1, and the Muellers at Tacubaya #35. The Kreidts were my morning walking buddies for many years, and we were also often together for a bridge game. They left Álamos when Dan’s Parkinson’s disease worsened.
Pat Crane
During our first years in Álamos, Pat was my closest friend. She and Walter are largely responsible for our being there! In 1976 when we first returned to Álamos, they had introduced themselves and invited us to their home while we were guests at the Casa De Los Tesoros. Traveling through Álamos once again in 1977 they encouraged us “to look at houses” (a favorite tourist occupation). Surprise! We bought a house, our well-loved home on Allende and I am still there after 34 years! The couple had a limited retirement income, and Pat’s usual form of entertainment was Sunday Pancake breakfasts, always thoroughly enjoyed. They were enthusiastic members of the Brincadores, a square dance group that met weekly at the home of Bill and Hector. Perhaps she will be best remembered by long-time residents of Álamos, as the creator of the incredble “Whooping Crane” costumes for one of Bill and Hector’s final New Years’ eve parties.
Sally Gordon
Sally and Bill Gordon first lived at Sonora #16 but when the house, now named Casa de Ladrillo, in the Chalaton came on the market they purchased it, though they were well into their 80s. I feel very privileged to have known Sally, a warm and caring women. I frequently swam with her in the hot afternoons, and how we enjoyed our Sunday night suppers at their house! Enadeena and her husband had the day off so once again Torf was the bartender, and we enjoyed our private time with Bill and Sally. Incidently, Enadeena and her husband are still living at the property.
Twyla Harkness
She, of course, is known to many of the current residents. She was a fabulous cook, her pantry was stocked with an incredible amount of dried foods, canned goods, spices, and, of course, the culinary utensils with which to make use of them. Her other special talent was beading, and her workroom, like the kitchen, was well-stocked with everything she might need for her hobbies. A love for the beach and the ocean prompted Twyla to build a home and casita at Huatabampo. Unfortunately, that has remained empty since her death from cancer complications some years ago. Twyla and her husband, Tom, were active for many years in the Amigos de Educacion, and gave generously of their time and money. “Twyla’s Angels” sent many a worthy Álamos student to college.

Vivian Hayter

Vivian lived at 319 Sonora (now owned by Sarah Smallhouse). Her husband died in the mid-70s, soon after the completion of the house. She continued to make it her residence, and entertained in style! In her employ were a cook, maid, butler, chauffeur, and a dear little man who was the night watchman. He reported for work at 7:30 pm, so he, too was given a job at her dinner parties. Replete in white shirt and wearing a sombrero, he poured the wine! Long skirts and coats and ties were always the expected attire. The watchman frequently brought Vivian a cup of tea in the middle of the night when she was unable to sleep. When Vivian developed serious glaucoma she was persuaded by her family to return to the States. She lived out her life in a retirement facility in Irvine, California. Sad to say, she was not happy there, and regretted having left Álamos.

Álamos has been good to me and these friends of years ago all contributed to the fabric of my life. Now, in my 92nd year, I look forward to more winters in Álamos, truly a Pueblo Magico. Dottie Intorf