Adventures in El Paso
In the early 2000’s I worked as a business analyst for a copper mining company in Arizona. They were the second largest mining company in the world only second to the country of Chile. Traveling from one mining town to another was a wonderful way for me to capture moments in camera. The desert and its people were so different than they were back in Ohio. It was a foreign land to me - the southwest, and I loved documenting it all.
Apart from the mines, there were Tank houses which produced copper cathodes for market and copper Rod Mills where cathodes were melted down to a one inch copper rod which could later be drawn down into wire. El Paso was a unique mix of tank houses for producing cathode and a rod mill. Copper Cathodes were shipped in from all over the country some were from company owned mines and some were from outside mines. It is important to get a perfect mix for casting rod.
The system I was helping create had to account for the processes at this facility and so, for an entire year, I was on a plane every Sunday evening by 6. Sometimes, I would catch the early Southwest flight from Phoenix to El Paso leaving at 5AM and arriving at 7AM. The flight was only 40 minutes long but crossed multiple time zones in the summer months.
Over this year, I began to become friends with a few of the employees and eventually going to El Paso was just as common as driving to downtown Phoenix. I believed I was older than most of them. But, I always felt younger and more immature than anyone.
Amber was from El Paso and working in Phoenix. From a sales side, she was able to maneuver the company to pay for trips home to visit family. Her dad was gone and her mom had remarried. You could tell that Amber was half Mexican. And her father’s picture proved that assumption.
Shane was a chemist in quality control. He and Amber were a thing. Off hours, Shane was a local DJ at a popular El Paso radio station. I found myself being a third wheel most trips. Sometimes there would be other locals to join us sometimes it was only me feeling awkward. One time, Shane was able to snag some tickets to go see Tool at a local venue and I scheduled my work trip to match the concert date.
Another time, we went out for drinks at some goth dive bar and I wanted to leave when he and some others started dancing in a circle giving Zeig Heils to some song. I found the whole thing offensive and that was the last time we hung out together. I chewed him out something awful citing that I have a Jewish last name and that while I was not Jewish I knew Jews and I made some sort of weird through-line to explain my disappointment. But, really I should have just said, what the fuck Nazi! And left. but, I think Amber drove that night, so I had to sit with my rolling rock and take it for a while.
Danny, one of the software engineers in El Paso took me out to the best Mexican food this side of the Rio Grande. Quickly I felt all eyes on me as I entered the shack of a restaurant as the only gringo for blocks around. The back of the restaurant was the boarder. Danny ordered in Spanish and they served us on paper plates and plastic forks. We grabbed a table and he was right, it was the best. I never found that place again and I knew I should not go looking.
There was the time that some of us from Arizona came for a conference and my friend Oliver and I tried to convince out boss Jim to let us borrow the rental to go to Juarez. Oliver and I had far too many drinks but were playing pool with these nursing students from Mexico. I don’t know what we were thinking. Thankfully, Jim put the kibosh on the whole thing and we moved on with our evening. We probably would never have come back from that trip.
The next morning, Oliver and I drove to the top of Franklin Mountain and looked over at Juarez from the parking lot of UTEP. There were no paved roads. All the houses were uncomfortably small and looked like a light breeze would send everything to ruin.
Why was I so self destructive even as I was in my thirties? I was bored and lonely.
However, once I learned about the mission trail, I started to step away from the crazy nights and began setting off by myself into the desert in search of history. There was Ysleta which looked like a newer church and I took some photos outside of kids playing in front. Then, I went on to San Elizario and then to Socorro. Which appeared to be the oldest with cement grave stones and thick stucco walls.
Concordia was where I found many opportunities to take images. The original cemetery was on the opposite side of the street but was moved when they built the 10 which ran straight through the middle of the city. Apart from the endless graves that appeared to be made of rebar and cement that was falling apart, there was a whole section devoted to what looked like Chinese. The Whole thing seemed out of place. But, many came to help lay track for the railroad and stayed. Eventually, racial violence forced the Chinese out.
I loved going to El Paso simply because of the solitude of travel. I was by myself, at my own pace, enjoying the sights and sounds alone with only my camera and all the time in the world. I could come and go from the mill and I set my own hours. I felt important but still myself. That was probably that last time I felt like myself professionally.