Sara Hopkins - Lady Cowboy

Gathering Remnants

Sara Hopkins

Lady Cowboy

By Stephen L. Wilmeth

            The last time we talked the inevitable seemed far off.

She was upbeat and sharp. I gave her a hard time about her aversion to doctors and she drove the discussion right back at me.

“Anybody who super glues an axe cut across your foot rather than going to get it sutured by a doctor has no leg to stand on,” she lectured.

“Either way, all I could stand on was only one leg, or, as it was, one foot,” was the comeback.

She laughed in her patented gravelly style and it was apparent she was satisfied with what she deducted to be the superior position of the exchange. The conversation evolved into what she could and couldn’t eat and then horses.

            We talked about a kid horse for my grandson and she came to the conclusion it was important to find one. “I’ll come up with something,” she said.

            “Take care … big sister.”

            “Thanks for the call … little brother.”

            Shortly later, I checked my emails and there was a one line note from Sara Hopkins … “I really enjoyed our talk.”

            That was our last exchange. Soon, she was gone …

            Gathering Remnants

            Sara Lou Hopkins died March 28, 2015.

Born April 10, 1940, she was raised on what she called the Wind Mountain Ranch. Although she settled into ranching on the Organ Mountain Ranch east of Las Cruces, the old ranch held her heart.

             She returned there when she talked about her childhood. She returned when she talked about the first horses. She returned when she talked about her mother, Florence’s, trauma over the rattlesnake that was heard knocking cologne and perfume bottles off the chest of drawers in the bedroom, and it was there she returned to visit when she was trying to heal from the loss of daughter, Danna Leigh Hopkins, killed in a terrible accident.

            Ostensibly, the enrollment of the three sisters, Bonnie, Kathryn and Sara, in high school was the reason for the move to Las Cruces, but, perhaps, Sara’s father, A.B. Cox, felt a bit of heart tug from memories of his own childhood. Son of pioneering rancher, W. W. Cox, their empire was built in the Organ Mountain/ Tularosa Basin country starting before the turn of the 20^th Century.

            W.W. laid eyes on the San Augustine Ranch when he rode out of Texas in 1888. In his wake, was some historical color.

            His father, James W. Cox, was killed in the longest and most deadly feud in Texas history, the Sutton-Taylor Feud. Jim Cox had been in the Texas State Police commanded by ‘Cap’n Jack’ Helm. Helm was backed by William E. Sutton, the Sutton in the feud’s name.

With Sutton’s urging, Helm’s police took it upon themselves to rid a swath of southeast Texas from horse thieves and cattle rustlers. Many were Taylors, the Sutton adversaries. The outlaw John Wesley Hardin was a Taylor operative who was party to the ambush that killed Jim Cox. The slaying was brutal. The body was riddled with bullet holes and knife trauma. Seventeen year old W.W. vowed revenge.

            The violence was quelled when clan leader, Jim Taylor, was killed along with a doctor named Phillip Brassel. The latter killing infuriated Judge Pleasants who called the Texas Rangers to clean up the mess. That coincided with the departure of young W.W. The New Mexico/ Texas border was his destination.

            Reaching New Mexico, W.W. rode up to the historical headquarters of the San Augustine Ranch and introduced himself to the owner, Benjamin Davies. Davies was cordial and helpful. Circumstances prevailed, and, within five years, Mr. Davies died of natural causes, his son-in-law was killed in a horse related accident, and W.W. purchased the ranch.

            No other ranch in what became Dona Ana County, New Mexico had a more beautiful setting. With the Organs as a backdrop to the south and west, the Tularosa basin spread out to the east from the headquarters. The morning sun would break over the Sacramento Mountains and cast ribbons of color across the expanse.

             Structures dating from the 1790’s built by Franciscan friars were part of the headquarters compound. They were built with rocks skidded off the higher slopes of the Organs. One of the sleds with an oaken body and runners was found by the Cox children over 100 years ago.

             South from the compound stood a grove of giant ash and oak trees that sheltered yet another structure. Its age and origin remain a mystery, but in this land that has seen European habitation since 1598, such mysteries abound. One of the trees, an oak, thought to be over 350 years old, could have been planted by Spanish settlers who used the site as a stopover along the old Salt Trail from Salt Flat, Texas to Santa Fe.

             Springs watered a large vegetable garden, a vineyard, and an orchard. Just north at Hackberry Springs a large peach tree stood that dated from times well before the Cox family arrived.

            W.W. expanded his holdings. He acquired homesteads, railroad lands, mining claims, and squatter’s rights. In all, he controlled over 150,000 acres and grazed on many more sections of territorial land. He and his wife, the former Margaret Rhode, had ten children. Sons Hal, Jim, and A.B. would all become respected ranchers. Daughters Lena, Blanche, Bettie (Bonnie), Emma Lou (Lou), and Annie Laura (Laura) gave the Cox family character and feminine grace. Sister, Laura Cox Stablein, was the wife of Eckert Stablein who became a partner with his brothers-in-law. Two children, eldest son Frank and third child William Hester did not survive childhood.

            W. W. died in 1923. The ranch was operated as an estate until 1926 when the brothers and Stablein purchased the ranch from other heirs. It continued to be operated as a single unit until 1936 when the corporation was dissolved. Eldest son, Hal, took the northern portion of the ranch and second brother, Jim, bought out Sara’s father, A.B, along with Eckert Stablein on the remaining country. A.B. took his proceeds and bought the Otero Mesa ranch.

            Drought, frontier violence, and the cattle business shaped the family. The brothers would all become respected amongst their peers and fellow citizens. They would carry the heritage of W.W. Cox with class and dignity, but the biggest challenge for Hal and Jim lay ahead.  It started with World War II and it ended with their eviction from most of the historical range when the federal government created the White Sands Missile Range.

            A.B. was spared with his decision to move to Otero Mesa.

            Lady Cowboy

            Sara was shaped by her immense heritage.

Although a rancher and her daddy’s cowgirl to the core, she was, foremost, a wife and partner to Dale Hopkins for 53 years. She was a mother to Danna, Shelly, and Les. She was also a western and landscape artist extraordinaire, a teacher, a mentor, a superb horseman, and a friend. Her obituary describes how those fortunate enough to be around her learned what wielding a pencil, a brush, a pair of reins, a rope, a pair of pliers, baling wire and duct tape actually meant.

Those of us who stood together eight years and fought the takings of our customs and culture through the presidential proclamation designating the Organ Mountain Desert Peaks National Monument came to know her for her courage under fire. She never said much in the endless meetings, but, when she talked, we listened. It was also Sara that emerged as the watershed target with the allotment that was heralded as the centerpiece of the executive action.

For a long time, she predicted that the government would not protect our property rights. Her family experience in the Tularosa Basin served as the model for governmental behavior. Of course, she was right.

Her husband, Dale, asked family and friends gathered at the funeral to jot down memories of Sara. Tough came to mind, but so did empathy and kindness. It occurred to me that Sara was better described as what she really was … a true lady cowboy. She was tougher than nails, but softer than silk.

There is also the aura of the true but difficult to describe Westerner factor that lingers in Sara’s impact on us. The Westerner himself, Frank DuBois, printed a quote from Henry David Thoreau several days ago that might describe her.

There will never be a really free and enlightened state until the State comes to recognize the individual as a higher and independent power from which all its own power and authority are derived, and … treats him accordingly.

I believe Sara epitomizes that suggestion. She was her own person and knew full well she was the best master of her landscape. That is the essence of ranching.

Perhaps neither Sara nor I fit the suggestion of the biblical meek, but, if our last words shared in that phone call reflect an earthly inheritance, it will be interesting to observe the rangelands of our heavenly future. Which range will she prefer? Will it be the Wind Mountain of her youth or the Organ Mountains of her life?

I am not part of this story although my friendship with Sara Hopkins is. As such, my range is also part of the epilogue, and it will be … what has become most dear.

Stephen L. Wilmeth is a rancher from southern New Mexico. “Indeed, Sara fought the good fight. She finished the race, and … she kept the faith.”