Tim,

Since you've been kind enough to send us your newsletter every month, I figure it's only right for us to contribute something. Here's a writeup on one of our annual sojourns to Yuma, Arizona to interact with the public regarding matters historical.

Every year, on the last Saturday in February, the city of Yuma, Arizona holds its Yuma Crossing Day festival. Yuma sits on the banks of the Rio Colorado, smack on the border with California, and is within a couple of hundred feet of sea level. It has a bit of historical significance in the Southwest: the Spaniards came by (twice!) during Francisco Vasquez de Coronado's expedition into the region, circa 1540; and for centuries after, the area was a main thoroughfare for travelers passing through what became the Arizona-California border. You see, a good ford was necessary when the Colorado River actually had water in it.

The Crossing Day bash has many events: a crafts fair, train rides, tour of the old Yuma Territorial Prison, and so on; but the neatest event is the "living history walk" on Madison Avenue, in front of the Century House, which is the local Arizona Historical Society headquarters. Scores of re-enactors are given canopy space along the street to do their things for the passersby. We are arranged in chronological order, so the Spaniards come first, followed by various Spanish Colonial types; then the U.S. stuff starts, with Mexican-American War, Civil War, and various civilian groups (period teachers, townspeople, etc.).

Bob Munson got Space #1 this year, with his wife Carol Ann (excellent people). He plays a sailor, a low-level warrant officer type, with the Alarconby-expedition that stopped in the area in an attempt to link up with Melchior Diaz's by-expedition. The link-up failed,by the way. As you might expect, the AMS got Space #2, and we portray (what else) a group of Melchior Diaz's people.

We had good variety this year: I did my usual arquebusier, dressed in plain shirt and slops, pacing about in front of the booth with my 14-lb artillery piece over my shoulder. My wife Susan did a middle-class woman; in past years she's done the Doña bit, black velvet, steel corset, and all, but gave it a rest this time. (I'm not aware of any women on the Diaz trip, although women did go with Vasquez. We're not strict about re-creating the Diaz troop exactly. If we were, we'd all be horsepeople, anyway.) Carol Ann Munson had the fancy dress, so people got to see how higher-class women suffered out here. Paul Burton portrayed an officer type. Sue made him a nifty green-and-gold velvet outfit, with pearls and lace. Les Reese plays our bottom-of-the-heap guy: a poor soldier with a battered bucket for a helm and a crude meat cleaver sword. We even had a German: Brian Gross in a red outfit and a suitably silly morion with high fore-and-aft peaks. One German at least is recorded with Vasquez, so what the heck? The only real qualification was being Catholic!

Proceeding a little way down the street, by booth: a guy portraying Juan Bautista de Anza; a Catalonian Volunteer (1770's Mark Santiago, an Arizona Historical Society staffer in Tucson, and a great help to us when we started our group); and a couple of Leather Soldiers (late 1700's). Rick Collins was a way down the road, doing Civil War this year.

Duties were light. The re-enactment part goes from 10 AM to 2 PM. There is no set demo schedule; you just do short speeches and answer questions as the folks wander by. Yuma officials are very relaxed about black powder guns being discharged during demos, so we all get to shoot, if we want. I did a half-dozen shots from my matchlock, which always pleases the crowd. Bob and I got to exchange repartee. After all, soldiers and sailors never got along well, and for us to walk across hundreds of miles burning waste in northern Mexico, schlogging all the way to the Firebrand River, and finding only a jar buried next to a tree with a "we were here, you weren't, worms are eating our ships, see ya later" message inside?! Bob and Carol Ann usually do a set piece: Carol Ann gets dressed for the crowd, starting from her chemise and ending up with several layers of clothing.

I can attest to the truth of the Re-enactor's Precept #306: you will never know what will "click" with the spectators. Case in point: one year, a troop of high-school age girls were clustered around Paul and Susan, asking her questions about her dress; she was playing the Great Lady, in 20 pounds of velvet, silk, and steel. Then Les wandered up to the group in his dented cabacete and coarse brown doublet, and Paul (like a typical officer) looked him over as if he were a piece of livestock and made an off-hand remark about "how a man of his class would only see a woman of her rank from a distance, and would never dare speak to her". That piqued the girls' interest. One started to ask, "But what if someone like her fell in love with someone like him?" As if on cue, both Sue and Les cut her off with "Never happen!" Raised a general laugh among the listening re-enactors, but the girls were really astonished. You find a lot of Americans never really comprehend the idea of absolute divisions in social rank. (Click.)

All in all, it's a pretty good time. The Historical Society folks provide free rooms for two nights at a nearby hotel, and pay each group a small stipend. The pre-smokeless-powder military types (us, Bob, Mark, etc) gather at the hotel on Saturday night to snarf down pizza and share obnoxious spectator stories.

I just thank God and the organizers that the event is in February. Yuma can easily hit 90 degrees even then. I'll never quite understand the Spanish predilection for invading places where people in decent clothing can spontaneously combust at noon.

We'll beat the Ingeles yet,

Eric T.
 
 

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