Tales from the Morgue

1956: Dona Tirza, 106, Finds Young People Are Rude and They Think Life Is One Big Fiesta

May 28, 1956

By Ruben Salazar

In an age when there's much talk about the "Great Future," a sprightly El Paso centenarian staunchly praises the past.

Mrs. Tirza Gonzalez, 106, of 4219 Wyoming street remembers when the French invaded Mexico in 1862, the coming of the railroads and when people were "decent."

But memories are not all of Dona Tirza. Wine, song and dance are still much in the life of this charmingly frank El Paso woman born in 1849.

Born on Ranch

If you're 80 or so years younger than Dona Tirza, and speak Spanish, you'd probably get this sort of greeting:

"Hello. I hope you're not rude like most young people of today. Is there no humility left in this world? You young people think life is just on big fiesta? Sit down. You're welcome here."

Dona Tirza, born in a ranch in Durango, came to the United States from Torreon in 1914. In 1919 she became a widow and went to live with her daughter, Mrs. Julia Gonzalez Rosas. Mr. and Mrs. Vincent Gonzalez, who is Don Tirza's granddaughter, and Efren Gonzalez, a grandson, now also live with Dona Tirza.

She is the mother of three daughters and four sons. She has outlived all of them except Mrs. Rosas and a son, Rosalio, of Bayard.

Reminded of Game

"I must have been 13 when the French invaded Mexico," Dona Tirza said. "They don't bother us in our small ranch near Lerdo, so I never saw them. But I remember the joy I got from being shown where a lot of the invaders fell from Mexican fire. Those Frenchmen went into Mexico like balls of fire, but left with their tails burning."

This reminded her of a game she used to play as a girl 90 years or so ago.

"It was called 'Let's See If I Can't Burn the Paper Tail'," she said. She got up to demonstrate. "A boy would tie a paper tail to his belt and dance around shaking his hips, "like this." She shook like an elderly Marilyn Monroe.

"Then I would follow him with a lighted candle singing a song," Dona Tirza said. She sang the song.. "Darn it!" she said after finishing, "I could never burn that tail. Once I got so mad I poked the candle in the boy's leg. Boy, was he mad. He said I ruined his best pants."

Mrs. Gonzalez thinks the art of dancing has deteriorated. "People don't dance any more," she said. "They just go crazy."

She was going to demonstrate the correct way to dance, but her daughter told her she shouldn't tire herself.

Asked what she attributed her long life to, she shot back, "Good stock, man! Good stock. My father lived to be 95. To live long you've got to eat simply, work hard and drink wine before breakfast. Later in the day you should drink something that rasps the throat like tequila or mescal. I get mad every time someone offers me beer. That insipid and putrid liquid is fit only for sissies and burros."

Her grandson, Efren, says Dona Tirza smokes about five packs of cigarettes a day. "Sometimes we worry about her," he said. "But then we say to ourselves, heck, she never gets sick. Why she sews all day and doesn't even use glasses. Never has."

Dona Tirza misses horseback riding.

"In the old days I used to ride every day," she said. "Recently a neighbor, who had horses, died before I could talk him into letting me ride one of his horses. He was skeptical about it, but I almost had talked him into it before he died."

"I'm glad he never consented," Dona Tirza's daughter said. "You would have fallen off."

"A lot you know about us old timers," said Dona Tirza. "We're not weaklings like moderns. I've got a granddaughter who's going to have a baby soon. You know what she does all day? She sits doing nothing.

"I used to work the hardest just before my children's births. I had to. I had to stock up on tortillas to last all during my confinement.

"People are getting ruder and lazier by the day," Dona Tirza added. "They are always talking about looking forward. People should sometimes look backward and learn a few things from us old timers.

 "Maybe we didn't know too much about books then, but we tried to know our hearts. If modern people start learning that maybe they've still got a chance."

Harvey Girls helped tame Wild West

This article by columnist Nancy Johnson first appeared in the Deming Headlight in March 2005.

"Harvey House brought air of elegance to the Wild West. The first immigrants to this area were Navajo, Apaches, and Comanches, followed hundreds of years later by Spanish explorers. Soon after there came Spanish soldiers, settlers, and priests.

"Trappers, miners and cattlemen joined the mix -- most arriving after New Mexico became a territory of the United States. Along came the Pony Express and the Butterfield Stages.

"Railroads reached the southern part of the state in 1881, and began carrying away ore and cattle.

"Oftentimes, they brought with them homesteaders and those travelers too fragile -- or too wise -- to ride 2,000 miles non-stop on a rushing stagecoach.

"With trains, there was a demand for good food services and clean rest stops for travelers.

"Still later, there was a need for hotels along the way to accommodate early tourists anxious to see the Wild West and its wide-open spaces populated by buffalo, cowboys and Indians. A young Englishman, Fred Harvey, had just the answer for all this with his Harvey House restaurants and hotels, which provided good food, at reasonable prices, served in spotlessly clean buildings by immaculate and efficient waitresses. And the Harvey Girls were born. They became an important part of the settlement and refinement of the heretofore Wild West.

"There probably isn't a single young woman alive today who would agree to work as a Harvey Girl with all the rules, regulations, and long hours. First of all, every applicant had to be single. A six-week training period for the job was their introduction to strict regimentation that the job, and Mr. Harvey, demanded. Classes stressed absolute cleanliness of hands, hair, body, and uniform.

"White aprons worn over their long-sleeved dresses with long skirts must be freshly laundered, starched and pressed daily -- with a back-up apron available in case the first one was soiled during the day.

"A Harvey Girl's hair was to be pulled back into a twist or a bun. No fussy ribbons, makeup, or jewelry was allowed. Shoes were black, high-topped and polished daily.

"Those who passed the class could choose a location and, if there was an opening, they boarded a train for their new job. If they had no preference or if there was no opening, they were sent where they were needed. The contract was for six months in that location.

"In the 1800s, there was a dark prejudice in this country against single working women. Girls who had finished their schooling were expected to remain at home until marriage. Those in small towns could earn a little spending money by sewing, raising chickens and selling eggs or, if the family had extra milk, they might sell butter. The money could buy linens and embroidery thread for their hope chests. Farm and ranch girls were stuck. They had no way to earn money and there was limited availability of single men. All this leads one to believe that only four types of girls became Harvey Girls: orphans with no place to go; girls from impoverished families who couldn't afford another mouth to feed; husband hunters; and those of a rebellious nature, dying to escape the strict confines of home. The last group had the greatest difficulty conforming.

"Imagine a young girl 18 to 25 years of age who most likely had never traveled more than 20 miles from home, and had met few strangers of either sex in her entire life. She has finished training, traveled hundreds of miles by train to a town where she knew not a soul, stepped off the train and walked into a Harvey House to be met by the manager -- and the hostile, suspicious stares of locals who mentally questioned not only her morals, but those of a family that would allow a young lady so much freedom.

"Upstairs, above the restaurant, is a large dormitory where she will share space with her sister Harvey Girls, two to a room, and be supervised by a house mother. The rules, regulations and regimentation does not end here. She must work seven days a week, usually split shifts, and may not date (if it can be called that) any man not approved by management. There was a strict curfew. However, for a husband hunter, the prospects were wonderful. The 1870 census showed 172,000 females to 385,000 males in the Southwest. Her salary of $17.50 a month plus tips, included room, board, and laundry -- which was sent by train back to Topeka -- and a train pass.

"At the end of the six-month contract, most girls used their rail passes to go home to visit family, often persuading sisters and friends to join the sorority. It was not unusual for three or four women from the same family to work for Harvey. When they returned from their vacations at home, many had formed such close friendships with coworkers they were unable to transfer to a new station, no matter how desirable the location. However, if another location had a large affair scheduled, it was not unusual for Harvey Girls to be called in from their posts a hundred or so miles away to help out.

"During the Dust Bowl and Depression of the 1920s and '30s, Jesse and Addie Park worked together in Vaughn, N.M., for a year, then transferred to Barstow, Calif., because they heard that Harvey Girls there were given one day a week off. Jesse later married a railroad man, but Addie lived at Casa del Desierto, the elegant Barstow house, for the next 40 years until she was 61. During that time they had managed to bring their entire large family to California and assist their brothers in obtaining jobs on the railroad.

"Little country girls became well-traveled, sophisticated women thanks to Harvey Girls and the free railroad passes. From their earliest days, these young women helped immeasurably to tame the Wild West. They married farmers, ranchers, miners and railroad men, and their children became the true Western men and women."

Nancy Johnson is a local columnist who enjoys researching the history of this area. Her columns appear in the Headlight every Thursday.