By Joel Warner
By Michael Roberts
By Alan Prendergast
By Michael Roberts
By Michael Roberts
By Amber Taufen
By Patricia Calhoun
By William Breathes
New York writer Ray Jadwick had been through a lot in his journey out West.
Roswell, New Mexico: He bought a pair of rattlesnake boots from a roadside Indian who kept calling him "Bro."
Phoenix: He worked a week on a construction crew, picked up a paycheck and split.
Then the 41-year-old Jadwick, a self-styled romantic who'd hit the road intending to send back dispatches about his Western wanderings--and to spend as little money as possible doing it--hit Littleton, Colorado. There he had his most memorable Western experience, after which he hightailed it back to New York as fast he could.
First, a little background:
In 1993 Jadwick began publishing an underground 'zine called the New York Lizard in Cooperstown, New York. Last fall he set out to chronicle the West in a used Suzuki Samurai. He called his stories "Lizard Tales" and produced several page-long pieces.
In the inaugural "Lizard Tales" article, from March 1998, he wrote, "It occurs me to that if one were to find 52 places around the country to be welcomed for a week, he (or she) would be free to travel the country for the rest of one's life without seeing (or mooching off) the same people more than once a year."
His first leg of the journey took him from New York all the way to Dell City, Texas. That's around 2,100 miles, but Jadwick had his reasons.
The writer's association with Dell City began ten years ago, when he and a girlfriend ran into car trouble driving through west Texas. They managed to find Dell City, a town of about 400 people that sits, surrounded by alfalfa sprouts, 100 miles east of El Paso and 100 miles west of Carlsbad, New Mexico.
Eighty-eight-year-old Jenny Tietsworth runs one of the two bars in Dell City; Bonnie Prather runs the other. Back in 1988, Prather put Jadwick and his girlfriend up in her bar, on an air mattress. Jadwick stayed for a few weeks, did some carpentry work to earn a few bucks and then left.
If the Texans of Dell City are prejudiced about anything, it's toward people who don't work for a living. And Prather (somewhat) fondly remembers Jadwick as a Freddie Freeloader.
"I think he's just a damned idiot," she says. "He's a lovable idiot. I was taught you get a job and you keep it. He's a guy that wants to be on the move."
When Jadwick arrived back in Dell City this year, folks still remembered the Yankee. "For one thing, I'm a New Mexican Texan and he's a New Yorker," says Prather. "You know, you never forget how a rattlesnake bite feels."
Prather says she found that, even after ten years, Jadwick was still a pain in the ass. "He never shuts up, always wandering around, asking what's this for, what's that for," she says.
Jadwick stayed with Jenny Tietsworth this time around, helping to fix her plumbing and roof. He did other odd repair jobs around town. He tried to match Prather shot for shot in a night of drinking and failed. "I wouldn't fuck with her," he wrote admiringly in a story for the Lizard, "and neither should you."
Leaving Dell City, he fired off dispatches from Kingman, Arizona, as well as from Phoenix and Tombstone. He headed through New Mexico and then into Colorado.
Jadwick was on his way to meet Joe Tietsworth, Jenny's son, who up until last year ran a bar of his own in northwest Denver. The plan was simple: Drop off some family photos for Joe, who sold his venerable blues joint, Ziggie's, in November 1997, then head back East.
But at the corner of Bowles Avenue and Federal Boulevard this past May 3, Jadwick's plan was derailed. Littleton police officer Carl Sharp spotted Jadwick driving through a red left-turn arrow and pulled him over. It turns out that Jadwick's trusty Suzuki, which he'd driven all the way from New York, wasn't insured. Also, the temporary registration had expired in August 1997.
What's more, wrote Officer Sharp in his incident report, "I noticed the expiration on the temporary plate had been altered to show an expiration date of 5/29/98." He asked Jadwick about this, and Jadwick told him he had altered the date so he could make it back to New York without being pulled over.
Sharp says the forgery was pretty weak: Little white squares with the altered numbers were pasted onto the tag. Jadwick was scared, Sharp recalls, but polite. Sharp confiscated the tag.
Sharp also smelled marijuana inside the car. Jadwick admitted to him that there was a small amount--seven grams, as it turned out--in a white three-ring binder in a milk crate behind the driver's seat. Jadwick was arrested, then issued a summons and released. His car, however, was towed. All of his possessions were in the Suzuki, save the clothes on his back and a small tote bag of photographs. (It was a tough day for Sharp, too. His squad car overheated during the stop and wound up in the shop overnight.)