Pendaries Village

I mentioned earlier this week that Juan Bautista Cordova, a possible great-great grandfather of mine, sold some land in the mountains north of Las Vegas to French immigrant Jean Pendaries nearly 140 years ago.

The 1875 land record itself is fascinating because it includes details such as the fact that the land was marked by ridges overlooking two streams from the Sapello River, where Juan Bautista and his son Antonio used to fish. A distant cousin who owns land in the tiny village of San Ignacio, sent me a copy of the record that he obtained from another cousin. Not long after that, I ran across the same record at the San Miguel County Clerk’s Office.

But the land sale was significant for another reason. Jean Pendaries had already made a name for himself as the owner and operator of the Plaza Hotel, which he built on the Las Vegas plaza in the 19^th Century. Apparently he sold the hotel prior to 1875, and started buying property in the mountains north of Las Vegas, according to a history on a web site for the Pendaries resort and golf course that now sits on land near Rociada, on the other side of the mountain from Juan Bautista Cordova’s stomping grounds in San Ignacio.

As a side note, Tony DeTevis, my great-grandfather on my Grandma Rise’s side, also owned a home in San Ignacio. My Dad has told me how he used to go do work for his grandfather at that property during the summer.

Back to Jean Pendaries, he apparently used money from the sale of the Plaza Hotel to purchase several parcels of land near Rociada, which would eventually become the 5,000-acre Pendaries Ranch. He built a saw mill, a grist mill and a homestead on the ranch.

One of the parcels that Pendaries purchased was the land owned by Juan Bautista Cordova. He paid 500 pesos. It’s not clear how much land he bought from Juan Bautista, but the record, written in Spanish and translated to English by a friend of mine, describes the location as follows:

“…located where both of the Sapillo River's streams lie, west of the Plaza de Tecoloteña in said County and Territory, where Juan Bautista Cordova and his son Antonio fish and which was deeded to them by the Judge of Evidence of said County and Territory per the petition on various residents of said Plaza. This land parcel consists of 500 yards of width and its boundaries are, on the North and South ends, the ridges that are adjacent to said river and on the East and West, land parcels belonging to Juan Pendaries, (this part is illegible, but I believe it says as follows), including houses, corrals and everything in between the boundaries described which shall be granted and adjudicated to Juan Pendaries and his children and heirs in fee simple, so long as said Antonio Cordova and Maria de la Gracia Garcia have confirmed the actions of their parents over these premises and that they abide by everything provided for in this instrument, detailing everything as if they were the parties signing.”

For some context into the time period, the Pendaries land purchase was just five years before the railroad moved through the area, which ignited a lot of controversy in San Miguel County. The railroad and the jobs it created, also led to the migration of many residents from villages like San Ignacio and Sapello into Las Vegas.

According to Pendaries web site, “Jean’s daughter married into the Baca family, and they later became the patrons of the 5,000 acre ranch. Descendants of the ranch founder continued to operate into the twentieth century, as well as providing leadership roles in state government.”

Ironically, I’ve never been to Pendaries, but I hear the views are breathtaking. I hope to take the family up there before the end of summer, and maybe stop to see my cousin in nearby Watrous.

DeTevis Pew

I have been going through hundreds of my mom’s old photos, scanning as many as I can. Needless to say, many of the photos have brought back many great memories. I’ll share some of those memories on this blog. Today, I want to tell a story about an uncomfortable, but great old wood bench that sat on the front porch of my childhood home for as long as I can remember.

I’ve been writing about my Great-Grandfather Antonio DeTevis, and when I saw this photo of the bench (with my father, Gilbert Gallegos, Sr., fixing what appears to be a catcher’s mask), I immediately called my dad. He confirmed the story that I remembered, which is that the bench used to belong to his Grandpa Tony, and that it was apparently the DeTevis family pew. My dad said he believes the pew was used at the church in the village of San Ignacio, just north of Las Vegas.

The pew eventually made its way to the front porch of Grandpa Tony’s home in Las Vegas. This is a photo of us sitting on the bench. Grandpa Tony is seated on the left; his daughter (my Grandma Rise) is to his right; followed by my father, Gil Sr., my mother, Beatrice; Domingo Romero, a foster son raised by my great-grandparents; and me, probably around 1980, based on the fact that I was wearing my little league hat from the team for which I played when I was 11 years old. (It just occurred to me that my oldest daughter, Carin, is now 11 years old, and she is very close with her Great-Grandmother Rise.)

My family went with me to San Ignacio this past summer. I told my daughters that I wanted to spend Father’s Day with them, while exploring some of my family history. I know they dreaded it because I also wanted to stop at the cemeteries in Las Vegas. But they went, anyway, and we all had a great time. (We hit both cemeteries in Vegas and the old cemetery in San Ignacio.)

At the time, I had forgotten about the DeTevis pew. I primarily wanted to visit San Ignacio because that is where my dad’s paternal grandfather, Luis Gallegos, was born and raised. So, I wanted to see where my Gallegos roots were firmly planted. My dad’s maternal grandfather, Antonio DeTevis, also had property in San Ignacio, and my dad recalls going up there during summers to help with chores like building a wall on the property. He claims he did all the work, while his grandpa drank beer. My dad also remembers a beautiful stream running through the property, and that a German man bought all of the surrounding property before his grandpa finally sold his, as well.

My Grandma Rise said her father built a small, but very comfortable house on that property. She also remembers going up there during summers. One of her fond memories of San Ignacio was helping to paint the walls of the church.

This is a photo of my daughter, Isabella, and me in front of the church.

I asked my dad whatever happened to the bench. He doesn’t remember. I last remember it being painted brown, I think to match the trim on our old house at that time. But it seems like we eventually replaced it with more modern (meaning comfortable) outdoor furniture. I wish we would have been able to salvage that bench. At least we have the memories.