A Visit to an Old Friend
in New Mexico: Malachy Mahon
By KEN ROGERSON
As I rolled through the White Sands, New Mexico, the area of the U.S. rocket testing, I was looking forward to once again meeting my dear old friend Malachy McMahon in Albuquerque.
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KEN ROGERSON bids a fond farewell to his friend Malachy Mahon on his recent visit to Albuquerque, New Mexico.
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This was the beginning of the second leg of my trip through the Western United States. I had just spent a month in Arizona and parts in between and was now travelling north at the eastern border of New Mexico.
Malachy and I had joined together in the early days of the bid to build the Celtic Heritage Centre in North Burnaby. Malachy was president of the Celtic Heritage Society of Canada, and I became his vice-president, hopefully to bring the Scots into the vision.
After many months, much talking, much coffee drinking and maybe the odd pint, it became obvious the Scottish Celts were not going to unite with their Irish counterparts, and I stood down.
However, some friendships are cemented in more than ethnic bonds, but in a respect and a genuine fondness. And so, over the years, communication has continued, and yes, a few more beers were consumed.
It must be two years since Malachy and his wife Alice moved over the border and started another phase of their lives. Some years earlier, they had visited Albuquerque while travelling in their RV and fell in love with the place and New Mexico itself. And so, when it came time for them to move on, there was no hesitation where they would pitch their tent....and what a nice tent it is! But that is another story for another time.
So there I was rolling along with my travel trailer behind me, and 3,000 miles under my belt. One cannot fail to be impressed by the beauty of New Mexico. I arrived in the city, crossing over a viaduct only to discover massive unseen roadworks. As I applied the brakes, the trailer fishtailed in protest.
I was now in the inner lane of five lanes of traffic, on an uphill with no way out. Luck was with me however, and I was in the right lane to turn off to Rio Rancho, the area where Malachy now lives.
The problem was that I was now lost and I stopped at the first shopping mall and found a telephone. "Come get me,"I pleaded, and within what seemed like minutes, a familiar car, and an even more familiar face with that wonderful smile appeared in the parking lot.
The five days I spent with Alice and Malachy went far too quickly. Our trip to Santa Fe, to Jemez, to the wonderful little pub in the ghost town of Madrid, to the pints of Guinness at the Two Fingers Irish bar in Albuquerque are all wonderful memories.
By the way, the beer was pulled properly at the Two Fingers, in other words "built," taking four minutes to pour, with a shamrock carved into the head.
Our Malachy couldn't sit still. He had just been elected president of the Irish American Association of Albuquerque and while I was there, I attended one their social evenings, a dinner and dance.
I thought I was back in Vancouver at a Scottish evening. There were very few there and silver hair in prominence. It was a great night however, and it gave Malachy a chance to introduce this crazy Scot to the Association as only Malachy can. I foresee a few changes coming to the IAA in Albuquerque if I know the wee man.
I left with the two-day journey to the Grand Canyon ahead of me and a bit of a tear in my eye, but with memories in my heart that will last forever. Thanks Malachy!
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