Salazar Family - Friend and Saviors Of Mormon Pioneers

by Donald L. Haynie

 

When the Mormon converts from the South arrived in the San Luis Valley in the late 1870s, they were poorly prepared as pioneers in a cold and cruel country.  Had it not been for the Hispanics who were already in the Valley, and who immediately befriended them, the Mormons would probably not have survived. Among the Hispanic families who befriended the Mormons was the Salazar family. 

  In his school days in Manassa, one of Elwood Haynie's boyhood friends was Henry Salazar, a descendant of that early Salazar family. Elwood always spoke proudly of his friend, Henry, and claimed that Henry knew where some of the early Mormon sites were located, including the spot where stood the dugout in which my great-grandmother, Emily Haynie, died shortly after arriving in Colorado from Georgia, 

  I have, therefore, always considered the Salazar family to be my friends and, recently, I noticed an account in "The Denver Post" which relates events in the life of Henry Salazar of Rincones, near Manassa, Colorado. That account follows.

*      *      *      *      *      *      *      *      *      *      *      *     *

  Manassa - Frozen ridges of mud and puddles glazed with ice covered the yard one recent morning as 75-year-old Henry Salazar pulled on boots, jacket and vest and headed out to feed his cows and horses. His weather-beaten white cowboy hat pulled low on his head, Salazar filled one bucket with ground corn and another bucket with oats.

 "I tell you what," he said, "I've seen a lot of places, but this right here is the only home I ever wanted."  He made a sweeping gesture with a calloused hand, surveying the San Luis Valley. The sky is a cloudless, deep blue. The scrub prairie played a subtle symphony of blues, grays, and greens, punctuated by the startling white of recent snow. A rabbit hopped through the sage. To the east, the barren Los Rincones Pinon Hills rose to block the morning sun.

 Salazar's ancestors were among the early Spanish-American settlers in the San Luis Valley. For four generations, the family has called this corner of the Valley home. That legacy promises to continue. Of Henry and Emma Salazar's eight children, three have remained in the Valley to raise families, two of them in homes they built on the family farm. Some of the couple's thirteen grandchildren display a keen interest in farming.

 The five children who live elsewhere remain fiercely loyal to the family home. Son Ken, 36, director of the state department of natural resources, comes back many weekends to lend a hand. So does Elliot, 30, an auditor for the Internal Revenue Service in Denver.

 "My long-term dream is to move back down there and raise my children..." said Ken Salazar. "My original plan was to spend two years in Denver. That has stretched into ten, but I want my children to grow up in that kind of environment."

 The homestead, five miles from the nearest town, had no telephone until fifteen years ago, and electricity came from a small generator until the mid-1980s.

 Despite their humble origins, Henry and Emma's eight children have rung up impressive accomplishments. All are college graduates. Four have gone on to get graduate degrees. In addition to Ken, a member of Governor Roy Romer's cabinet, there's Elaine 32, who was development director for National Public Radio in Washington, D.C., before taking a leave to attend business school at the University of Texas this fall.

 Leroy, 40, operates a thriving agricultural consulting business near Monte Vista. Leandro, 42, and John, 38, run the family farm, which has evolved into a profitable certified seed potato business.

 Of the youngest three -- 30-year-old triplets -- Elliot works in Denver; Margaret, her husband and three daughters are helping run a Catholic orphanage in rural Mexico; and June works for Intel Corporation in Albuquerque.

 "I was a poor man to start with, and I'm still poor," said Henry, seated in the kitchen now behind a stack of waffles and a mound of bacon.  "But I figured an education was the best thing I could leave to my children.  If the boys lose the farm someday, well, they'll still have the education, and nobody can take that away from them."  Henry and Emma are high school graduates.

 What Henry calls the farm is, in fact, two distinct pieces of land. The original 14-acre Salazar homestead was settled by Henry's maternal grandfather in the late 1850s. Felipe Cantu, born in northern Mexico in 1828, came to the Valley by a circuitous and improbably route.  At age sixteen, while hearding sheep, he was kidnapped by a band of Indians.  He lived as a prisoner with that nomadic band for several months, until he fell ill.  Then the Indians gave him to a Spanish trader from Santa Fe.