A Loss

This afternoon, I learned of Judy's death. She'd traveled the roads here on her burro, sleeping on the side of the road under a tarp for more than 30 years. I'd see her every few months in town or on the road to Marfa. I've been told many stories about her, and am not sure any of them were true.

She was wary and reluctant to speak to others or talk about herself, but I was told she was a registered nurse who'd developed a fear of small spaces and chose to live outside. At one point, she'd had a Cadillac with a trailer to haul the burro behind it, but this was many years ago. Postmasters in the region would let her family (somewhere far away) know when she stopped by. She didn't like her photo taken, and there were several stories of her defending herself, pulling a gun at anyone who would interrupt her sleep.

She was silent in our exchange at the laundromat a year ago, when I helped her get her crumbled dollar bills to work in the change machine. She was tiny, and what bulk she had was really just multiple layers of clothing. As she did her wash in the warmth of the laundromat, she smoked silently while her burro cried for attention outside.

I've wanted to write about her many times, not knowing how to respectfully talk about this woman, whom I would probably never understand and possessed little right to assume anything about her life.

She was found Thursday, between Van Horn and Sierra Blanca, though closer to Sierra Blanca. Apparently someone passed by her and she was sitting against a tree, and later she was seen slumped over. The EMS was called, and took her body away, but when they tried to pick up her things, the burro tried to root around and was looking for her. I guess the Judge in Sierra Blanca has the burro now, and she'd known the burro lady fairly well. I doubt the burro will ever know that kind of companionship again.

She was an icon in the region, a symbol of strength, toughness and independence. Whether illness drove her to her life on the side of the road, or if it was just an odd determined nature, I don't know, but I know she will be missed. She offered color, depth, and pathos to the region. She was the grit it takes to live here.