From our lofty thrones we look down upon the inconsequential human tribesmen hurrying about on their insignificant activities.  Our observations have taken place upon the little city of Las Cruces.  We saw the Indians fell and slaughter a Spanish wagon train at the present site of that city.  We also saw another Spanish train from Dona Ana discover this massacre and erect crosses at the burial ground.  Thus, our City of the Crosses, Las Cruces, began in 1850.  From that time to this, our little city has grown, from a mud shack and corral to a regular townsite, with the ruggedness and bawdiness of the early frontier town.  You can't read of our town in the history books but it was famous in its own way.  It became a lifesaver to the wagon trains coming from Chihuahua to Santa Fe.  After leaving Paso del Norte, they traveled for two days and then the friendly city of The Crosses would appear and beckon.  Here they could refresh themselves and the next day travel on to the larger town of Dona Ana located two miles north of Las Cruces.  As you can see, Las Cruces has overtaken Dona Ana and swept past to enlarge into the grand community at the base of our foothills.

In the beginning, our town was made up politically of two factions.  The first municipal election was won mainly by the fact that one of the factions was first in putting up candidates.  One faction met on what is now the corner of Main and Griggs and the other met near what is now the Temple of Agriculture.  In later elections, the politicians were more democratic and had regular polling.

Our town's original townsite extended from Lohman Street on the South to Hadley Street on the North.  The townspeople didn't expect Las Cruces to expand any further.  Now one can see the truth in this by noting the angle in the streets north of Hadley and south of Lohman.  Our town started as a small settlement to attract the travelers going to and from Mexico.  Now is has grown so that it attracts persons from all over the United States for its atmosphere and history.

We have seen Billy, the Kid, swagger through our town and pass to the north where he met his untimely end.  Judge Roy Bean, the Law West of the Pecos, passed through on his way to La Mesilla to see his brother who owned that town at the time.

We have seen our little town establish its own college in 1889, thirty-nine years after its founding.  This was due mainly to the efforts of Hiram Hadley, who started the college with four pupils in a schoolhouse in Las Cruces and with a land grant, moved to its present position southeast of the site of Las Cruces.  Our town's college has now grown into a small community.

We have seen the Spanish explorers sweep through the valley surrounding our town, sacking the Indian settlements and onward to the North.  They conquered our valley and settled this City of the Crosses.  Then they were driven out and the boundary of the United States was moved westward.  We were then in the territory of Arizona and La Mesilla was named the capitol.  Our present ruler went to war with Mexico and won but we were still in Mexican territory.  To redeem themselves the Americans settled with Mexico by buying the surrounding territory, the Gadsden Purchase.  Our ancestry is Spanish but now we are American. 

In our valley is a river; the Mexicans called it the big river, Rio Grande.  We have seen this river foam from one side of the valley to the other and back again.  We have seen our town flooded by this river but as always Las Cruces has come back and rebuilt.  Our town has controlled this stream until it now flows in man-directed channels.

Our town looks at us, wonderingly, but all they see are our colors changing from dark blue to purple.  Sometimes we appear near and other times we appear far away.  They have painted us, photographed us and done everything to glamorize us.  Little do they know the secrets that we hide.  We hold untold wealth in our inner resources.

We were frightened at one time because one person came nearest to finding hidden treasures in our valley and canyons.  He was Colonel A. J. Fountain.  He had run onto some black quartz which he purported to be from the richest mine in Spanish America located in our valley. His mysterious death cut short any exploration into our depths and so we were relieved of mankind scouring our canyons for a while.

But soon came another thorn in our side.  A party of Spanish refugees from Mexico City came to El Paso with a map purporting to show the location of a cave that contained gold bullion.  This cave was two days north of Paso del Norte on a point between Soledad Peak and another high peak nearby.  These refugees left the map with the German Consul in El Paso and nothing has been heard from them since.

We, the mighty Organs, tremble whenever we hear of any nearby ore strike or newly discovered map.  If you happen to be in one of our canyons, you can hear our roar at the busybodiness of humankind and the so-called explorers who want to explore our peaks and take our so-called precious metals with them.  We know that in time to come we shall have to let go of these ores, but as long as we can we are going to hold onto them.

It may be worthwhile to give up our treasures, as our little town of Las Cruces has grown from the mud hut to an enterprising community of 18,000 people in 1947 who for the most part are happy to just look at us and wonder.