CHAPTER 3
From Benton to the Borderlands
“Las Cruces has three icons – Barbara Hubbard, Lou Henson, Mark Medoff – when you say their names, everyone knows who you’re talking about. … A big draw to coming to a rural area university like NMSU was that you would be able to see some of these acts — Bob Hope or George Strait or Johnny Cash. In the big cities, you don’t need Barbara Hubbard to do that, but in Las Cruces, you need Barbara Hubbard to do that.”
— Dr. Garrey Carruthers, former President and Chancellor of NMSU (2013-2018) and Governor of New Mexico (1987-1991)
After my high school cheerleading career, I enrolled in pre-med at Henderson Teacher’s College in Arkadelphia, Ark. It was about 45 miles away from home. Now that doesn’t seem very far, but I wasn’t able to visit often.
Being away from home for the first time was an adjustment. I missed my little brother, my mom, and especially my dad. In fact, I called Dad most every day that I could.
Living in the dorms was an experience. My cousin Lorraine also went to Henderson and we asked to room together. It was the two of us: Lorraine Larsen and Barbara Ann Johnston. It was my first time living with someone besides my parents and brother and I had to learn how to compromise. Let’s just say that she was the messy one.
My grandfather paid my tuition for my bachelor’s degree, so I worked in the cafeteria and also waitressed at night down at the local tavern for spending money. Tips weren’t so good back then, but it was enough to go have some fun. This was when the boys were coming back from World War II, so we had to welcome them and get reacquainted. I dated Bobby Lewis for a while and we would go down and watch the horse races in Hot Springs, Ark. Horse racing was a bigger deal back then. I didn’t do a lot of betting, but loved to cheer on the horses and revel in the sights, sounds, and smells of the track.
When I graduated Henderson with a degree in biology, I was still pursuing medicine as a career and moved to Nashville to attend Vanderbilt University. That was my biggest move yet.
There I was, a little country girl going to a big city. You can just imagine the shock I had walking into Nashville. Smoke from cigarettes and cigars hung in the air, mixing with the sweetness of magnolia trees. A cacophony of car engines and guitar chords played on the breeze when walking down the main street, with music spilling out of most every doorway. There was less neon than there is now, but the city lights were still unlike anything I had seen before.
One of the first things I did was find a church. In fact, that’s the first thing I did everywhere I moved. It helped me find my community and provided something consistent to hold onto with all the newness. West End United Methodist Church in Nashville was in the process of putting in beautiful stained glass windows in their new sanctuary. I’ve always loved the beauty and storytelling of stained glass, and the ones at UMC are second to none. Minnie Pearl was music director on Sunday night and was always dressed to the nines. Hearing her characteristic Southern twang singing hymns is something I’ll never forget.
I was there for two years doing pre-med courses, paying my way by being a housemother at one of the dormitories. My hope was still to get into medical school at Vanderbilt, or University of Miami at Coral Gables, since I had a cousin near there.
As it turned out, God had different plans. I wasn’t accepted at Miami or Vanderbilt. It was a different time, back when us women didn’t have any common sense, or so the powers that be thought. That was before they knew us women had the smarts to become doctors, but I didn’t let that set me back too far.
I moved home to Benton and got straight into the workforce. My first job was teaching first grade and I loved those little kids. But you can’t really teach biology or, for that matter, music, to kids at age six. So they moved me up to seventh grade and we had a ball. I’d take the kids out and we’d build kites and learn about wind currents.
Though teaching was fulfilling, I knew I wasn’t done learning. I’ve never stopped learning! But I did need to save up some money to get back into the classroom as a student instead of a teacher. When I finally had the funds, I moved back to Nashville to get my Masters of Science in Biology at George Peabody College.
While I was at Peabody, a visiting professor taught one of my classes. He came in, smiled, talked a little bit about himself, and then said:
“Now, I want you to tell me who you are.”
He went through the room, and everybody got up and said who they were. I was concentrating really fast, trying to remember as many people as I could, because I thought he must have some sort of purpose in that.
He did.
“If any of you can stand up and name everybody in this room, you’ve got an A and you don’t even have to come to class,” he said.
Two or three people before me tried. I was sitting there mentally going through everything, and I’ll be dad-gumed, when it was my turn I got everybody but one. And it was such a simple name, John Jones or something like that.
So I missed the free A, but a guy in the class from Raton, N.M., north of Las Cruces, was so impressed I knew as many as I knew, he offered to hire me if I ever came to Raton. That was God’s hand. It was the impetus for my later trek to New Mexico.
After my master’s degree I came back to teaching in Arkansas. Part of me has always felt like a teacher. I love seeing things click for people, enriching their lives and opening possibilities for their futures.
When I taught high school, the kids were bigger than I was. I stopped growing at 5 foot 4 inches, (though I’m probably 5 foot 3 ½ inches now), but I stand tall on size 9 slim shoes. I always wore high heels when teaching. I might be small, but I’m dynamite
Right outside of my classroom window was a cotton field. My allergies really flared up because of that. My eyes were so watery and puffy that I couldn’t even teach. It’s hard for teens to take you seriously when you’re sniffling throughout the lesson. The Arkansas climate didn’t help - I had to get out.
I decided to go West. Remembering the gentleman who said he’d hire me if I ever came to Raton, I decided to head that direction. In preparation, I sent out about nine teaching resumés and hit the road to pursue a new path.
I like warm weather, just not cotton and pollen, so I took the Southern route.
I’m coming out of Arkansas on what’s now I-10. In the north that would have been I-40, but I wanted to stay in the South side, where it’s warmer. We’re 10 degrees warmer in Las Cruces than Albuquerque three hours and 250 miles to the north, even in the wintertime. We’re at 4,000 feet, with Albuquerque hitting just over 5,300 elevation.
I didn’t know at the time that a lot of people head West for that same reason I did — better weather and a better life. Here in Las Cruces, every 10th person you meet, it seems like, did that.
The sign driving into town read: “Welcome to Las Cruces, N.M., home of 18,000 friendly people and a few old sore heads.” I figured I’d fit right in, either as a friendly or a sore head, depending on the day.
It was 1954. I was driving an old Dodge.
On Sunday, I reached the Old Mission Inn in Las Cruces. I didn’t know anybody in town back then, but I had sent my resumé to the local school district. I was sort of headed to Raton as a certain bet, but I preferred getting a job in a warmer climate.
Dressed in shorts and an old shirt on a relaxing Sunday, I decided to check out the layout of the school where I had applied for a teaching job before my Monday interview.
I phoned the school, hoping to possibly catch a janitor who would let me see inside. Superintendent of Schools Tom Mayfield answered.
“Right, Miss Johnston, I have your resumé here on my desk. I’m headed to Artesia in the morning, so let’s do the interview now. I’ll be out in five minutes.”
“Whoa. I don’t have time to get dressed and look presentable.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes,” he said, and hung up.
Five minutes later, the 10-minute interview commenced. It was fairly informal. At first it seemed like chitchat, but we got into teaching philosophy. One thing that I think stuck with him was my insistence that, above all else, the students come first. I still believe that to this day, and made a point to impress it on Mr. Mayfield. I’m not just teaching people to memorize what’s in a textbook, I’m looking at the whole person and providing what...