A Sacred Sanctuary Wards Off Bulldozers
CHIMAYO, N.M. — A solemn, middle-age woman emerges from a tiny room off the chapel of the Santuario de Chimayo and bursts into tears. A trickle of dirt seeps from between the fingers of her clutched fist.
The brown earth, scooped out of a hollow in the floor of the famous adobe church, is believed by some to have healing powers. And, although not all land here is considered miraculous, it has always been precious.
Never more so than now, as small northern New Mexico towns--some of them 300 years old--are being overtaken by development that’s marching inexorably from Albuquerque in the south to Taos in the north.
Scores of local citizen groups are working to preserve the integrity of the region and their timeless, traditional way of life--especially at Chimayo. The church’s cultural and historical significance has lent urgency to preserving the open space around it. The efforts have been largely successful.
The Spanish colonial church, which is a National Historic Landmark, draws nearly 300,000 visitors a year. The visitations exploded last week, Christians’ Holy Week, when tens of thousands of pilgrims flocked here seeking the miracles held in the dirt.
The pilgrims, called penitentes, walk (some even crawl) to reach the church, some from as far as Albuquerque, 90 miles away. The procession clogs the two two-lane highways leading to Chimayo and creates an annual logistical headache for county authorities. Pilgrims walking with crutches and using wheelchairs cannot use the sandy shoulder and often spill onto the highway. Every year there are close calls between motorists and pedestrians.
For believers and tourists--and now preservationists--the church is a magnet. It was built to house a crucifix said to have been discovered in the dirt here. As the legend of the dirt’s curative powers grew, the sanctuary came to be called the Lourdes of America.
Part of the appeal is its pastoral setting along the Santa Cruz River. The small church sits atop a hill with an outdoor chapel just below. There, in the meandering valley, a pasture butts up to low hills, with the Sangre de Cristo Mountains beyond.
The village of Chimayo is nearby, but few buildings encroach on the church. Leona Medina-Tiede, who grew up here and owns a restaurant near the church, said the bucolic land is the perfect backdrop to Masses held at the outdoor chapel.
“In the summer, horses and cows come to the fence and listen to the Mass. I guess they hear the voices,†she said. “It’s so cute. They stand by the river and listen to the priest.â€
The quest to preserve this land began after a 22-acre parcel was put up for sale and a developer in nearby Espanola showed an interest in subdividing it into 30 lots.
The Chimayo Cultural Preservation Assn. sought the help of the San Francisco-based nonprofit Trust for Public Land. “The fear was that someone would come in here and put in a mobile home park, which would totally change the setting,†said Jennifer Parks, the trust’s project manager.
Three years ago, Parks began trying to acquire the entire 72-acre tract that lies at the foot of the church.
She quickly ran into a typical northern New Mexico land scenario: Many parcels were divided into small tracts when land-rich patriarchs passed their property onto their heirs. Over successive generations, the parcels changed hands and siblings grew apart or their relationship devolved into a full-on feud.
Sorting out who owns what was difficult enough, but Parks also had to negotiate fragile family dynamics.
“It’s a different world up here,†she said, standing at the rustic outdoor chapel and gazing at the contested land. “Old Hispanic families have a lot of history here. They have a special feeling about land and what’s done with it.â€
Animosities have surfaced, but family members have a strong determination to maintain the land as they have always known it, making the preservation effort easier than many others. One by one, brothers and sisters are agreeing to sell.
Last fall the land trust bought the first 17 acres, then conveyed the land to Santa Fe County, which passed two bond measures to raise money to preserve it as open space. Another tract of 27 acres is under contract and could be owned by the county in the next few months. The total acquisition is expected to cost $900,000.
Family and community members alike are closely watching the process--and the land.
“I used to help bring in the hay in that pasture when I was a little girl,†said Medina-Tiede. “I love this place and would like to see it kept the way it is. It’s so peaceful, and I think that’s the way it should be near the church.â€
Ray Bal grew up here, helping his father tend the family’s 22 acres. Bal is undecided about selling, mainly because he doesn’t trust the county to maintain the land properly. He said if he sells, he will place a conservation easement on the property.
“The land has been in my family for generations; it’s my heritage,†he said, standing behind the counter in his family’s gift shop across from the church. “I watched my father work this land on his hands and knees, as an old man who could barely walk. I will do everything I can to preserve this as it is. The sense of peace the land offers, being so near the church, I just can’t see it being developed.â€
The only other holdouts are Josephine and Seledon Martinez, who are asking three times fair market value for their six acres, according to the Trust for Public Land. The Martinezes say they would use the proceeds from the sale of their land to set up a scholarship for local students.
Josephine, 83, said her family always ran cattle and horses on the pasture and grew hay and alfalfa. As a child, she climbed the rattlesnake-infested hills behind the property.
“I’d hate to see them build on that,†she said. “My brothers and sisters all have this property--it seems like it is a bond, no matter what. We all remember what our fathers and uncles did to keep this land healthy. It is a very special place.â€
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