It's such a sad time in Socorro when people continue to just let Mayor Bhasker do as he pleases and go after whomever he doesn't like.
Articles for the ‘Opinion’ Category
<span class="normal">ALVAREZ – </span>Abran Alvarez, 89, passed away at his home in Van Nuys, California, on May 9, 2015. He was born on Oct. 22, 1926, in Socorro, New Mexico, to Abran and Estafana (Avalos) Alvarez. Abran was a proud veteran, serving in the Navy during WWII on the USS Bataan. He retired as a machinist from Weber Aircraft, in Burbank, California. He was a proud member of the International Association of Machinists. During that time he was working at Weber, he was part of the team that built the first ejection seat for the space shuttle Apollo. He was an avid fisherman and would often spend his Sundays fishing on a commercial fishing boat off our Southern California waters. He was a marathon runner, earning many trophies and awards, and ran until his mid-seventies. Abran fulfilled his lifelong dream of catching a big halibut while taking a trip to Alaska several years ago. He is preceded in death by his beloved parents; his sister, Amalia Gonzales Pargas; and his second wife, Mary. He is survived by his seven children, Benita, Stephanie, Elsie, Patricia, Danny, Corrie and Margaret; 15 grandchildren; and seven great-grandchildren. Abran will also be greatly missed by his loving sister, Maria Briggs; several nieces and nephews; and his faithful friends, Eddie, William and Monica. A funeral service was held on Saturday, May 16, 2015, at the Socorro Seventh-Day Adventist Church. Interment followed in the Seventh-Day Adventist Cemetery in Escondida, New Mexico, where he was laid to rest beside his mother. To view information or leave a condolence, please visit www.danielsfuneral.com. Abran's care has been entrusted to:
We're surrounded by graduations and lots of mortarboards.
I do not like flying. Well, I actually like flying, but don't like airports. Well, I kind of like airports but don't like all that rigmarole with security.
Some things about Socorro and this area just can't be beat. I'm talking about those events and stories that don't happen anywhere else on earth and get handed down through the years, making up our folklore, and some reaching the level of out and out mythology.
I'm learning a new word: meh.
You never know what you're going to find by looking down on the ground in New Mexico. When the wind blows things seem to magically appear under one's feet. Whether from being blown in from Arizona or rising up out of the dirt, it's magical.
It's hard to put off, and my delaying tactics are weakening.
You see it just about everywhere and at just about any time of day. I saw it while driving down Bullock one day last week. It was a young mother walking along the sidewalk with a little boy, presumably her little boy, who looked to be around three.