Columbus is sometimes regarded as a ghost
town, but a modern
border crossing station, a museum and the Pancho Villa state park all
pitch
in to keep it from dying out. Like many other semi-ghost towns,
Columbus
evokes a genuine spirit of the past. It's not difficult to envision the
life of a border town in the early 1900s while strolling the streets,
nor is it difficult to get a real appreciation of the importance of the
border in New Mexico's history.
I went to the border crossing when
I visited.
Walking up to the dividing line between the U.S. and Mexico, I
considered
taking that last step into another country. With one step, the rights
and
privleges that defined how I lived would be gone. Just one step and
everything
I took for granted would be literally and figuratively behind me. The
border
was too close. I was scared. I turned back.
No write-up on Columbus would be complete
without a nod
to Mrs. Susan Parks Kendrick. On the morning of the famous raid, Mrs.
Parks,
a telephone operator in Columbus, called for help and alerted several
residents
of the danger from her switchboard. The switchboard is on display in
the
Columbus Museum, only a few feet away from Pancho Villa's death mask --
two items one would never expect to find in a room together. The
distance
between any two dissimilar objects - like the border between two
countries
- can sometimes be remarkably thin.