DOGE cuts and voluntary resignations have severely hampered the agency as the nation enters the peak of fire season, with more than 1 million acres burning across 10 Western states.

By Abe Streep
Courtesy of ProPublica

Despite the Trump administration’s public pronouncements that it has hired enough wildland firefighters, documents obtained by ProPublica show a high vacancy rate, as well as internal concern among top officials as more than 1 million acres burn across 10 states.

​Less than a month ago, Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins announced that the Trump administration had done a historically good job preparing the nation for the summer fire season. “We are on track to meet and potentially exceed our firefighting hiring goals,” said Rollins, during an address to Western governors. Rollins oversees the wildland firefighting workforce at the U.S. Forest Service, a subagency of the Department of Agriculture. Rollins had noted in her remarks that the administration had exempted firefighters from a federal hiring freeze, and she claimed that the administration was outdoing its predecessor: “We have reached 96% of our hiring goal, far outpacing the rate of hiring and onboarding over the past three years and in the previous administration.”

Since then, the Forest Service’s assertions have gotten even more optimistic: The agency now claims it has reached 99% of its firefighting hiring goal.

But according to internal data obtained by ProPublica, Rollins’ characterization is dangerously misleading. She omitted a wave of resignations from the agency this spring and that many senior management positions remain vacant. Layoffs by the Department of Government Efficiency, voluntary deferred resignations and early retirements have severely hampered the wildland firefighting force. According to the internal national data, which has not been previously reported, more than 4,500 Forest Service firefighting jobs — as many as 27% — remained vacant as of July 17. A Forest Service employee who is familiar with the data said it comes from administrators who input staffing information into a computer tool used to create organization charts. The employee said that while the data could contain inaccuracies in certain forests, it broadly reflects the agency’s desired staffing levels. The employee said the data showing “active” unfilled positions was “current and up-to-date for last week.”

The Department of Agriculture disputes that assessment, but the figures are supported by anecdotal accounts from wildland firefighters in New Mexico, Oregon, Washington, California and Wyoming. According to a recent survey by Forest Service fire managers in California, 26% of engine captain positions and 42% of engineer positions were vacant. A veteran Forest Service firefighter in California characterized the Trump administration’s current estimate of the size of its firefighting workforce as “grossly inaccurate.”

BY: DANIELLE PROKOP
Courtesy of Source NM

Despite expanding the availability of medication-assisted treatment, state health officials only treated about 4% of the New Mexicans estimated to have opioid use disorders in public health offices, a report released Wednesday found.

The finding was one of several Legislative Finance Committee analysts presented to lawmakers from a 38-page report evaluating the New Mexico Department of Health programs to address opioid and alcohol addiction treatments after a 2024 expansion of services offices in most counties in New Mexico.

While 9,100 New Mexicans have opioid use disorder requiring treatment, the New Mexico Department of Health only treated 321 people in public health offices during fiscal year 2024, with most offices treating fewer than 10 people. Only three people with alcohol use disorder were treated with medicated-assisted treatment over the same time frame.

Analysts issued recommendations for state health officials to: centralize marketing and management of the program; set performance targets for treating more people in public health offices; report the data; pursue mobile clinics and better promote the treatment.

NMDOH Secretary Gina DeBlassie told lawmakers she agreed with the assessment, saying the department was working to hire someone to lead the program, and that the department would expedite marketing efforts.

“We haven’t done enough in the community as it relates to getting the word out about our [Medication for Opioid Use Disorder] services ” DeBlassie told lawmakers. “We recognize that. We’re working on that.”

Medication-assisted treatment, nicknamed MAT, includes medications that are proven to reduce cravings and prevent withdrawal symptoms from both opioids and alcohol. Experts say MAT is crucial to treating alcohol and opioid use in New Mexico,which has some of the highest rates in the nation.

The state also delivers MAT through prison programs; the New Mexico Rehabilitation Center and Turquoise Lodge Hospital; and certain certified clinics. However, the expansion into public health offices was to offer services to underserved populations and decrease travel, according to past statements on the program.

The majority of MAT is delivered by private providers, with Medicaid data showing that more than 10,000 New Mexicans sought treatment in 2024. Most people who sought MAT traveled to get it, according to Maggie Klug, a program evaluator for the Legislative Finance Committee.

“This highlights the need the public health offices are trying to meet, while also indicating that people may not be aware of the treatment available in the local public health offices,” Klug said.

Rep. Harlan Vincent (R-Ruidoso Downs) compared NMDOH’s performance to “a fire department only running 4% of the calls.”

DeBlassie responded that she agreed with the statement, adding that the department’s program stalled in March 2025, and that NMDOH is committed to marketing the program and seeking additional referrals.

​“There are individuals within the community that are in need of treatment, and I can guarantee they did not know that the public health office is a resource and we’re looking to change that,” DeBlassie said.

Sen. Heinrich warns proposal would devastate rural economies, cut jobs, and reduce public access
​
Courtesy of nm.news

New Mexico stands to lose at least $177 million in economic output under the Trump Administration’s plan to transfer national park units to state control, according to a new report that has prompted sharp criticism from the state’s senior senator.

​U.S. Sen. Martin Heinrich, the ranking member of the Senate Energy and Natural Resources Committee, blasted the proposal during a July 16 press call, calling it a radical plan that would “devastate local economies, overwhelm state budgets and dismantle the systems that keep public lands running.”

The warning comes as national park tourism provides significant economic benefits to New Mexico. In 2023, visitors made 2.3 million trips to New Mexico’s national park sites, spending nearly $150 million that supported over 1,800 jobs and provided $55 million in labor income statewide, according to Heinrich’s office, citing National Park Service data.

“By transferring ‘sort of small parks’ to the states, the Trump Administration and its supporters aren’t giving states more power or saving taxpayer money,” Heinrich said in the press call. “They’ll be cutting off your access to public lands and devastating state economies in the process.”

The Trump Administration’s budget proposal calls for the National Park Service to “transfer certain properties to state-level management,” according to the White House Office of Management and Budget. The administration says there is “an urgent need to streamline staffing and transfer certain properties to state-level management to ensure the long-term health and sustainment of the National Park system.”

Interior Secretary Doug Burgum has clarified that none of the nation’s 63 “crown jewel” national parks would be transferred to states, telling lawmakers the sites under consideration are mostly “historic sites, cultural sites that have low visitation that might better fit into a state, historic society site or some other designation.”

The administration’s broader budget proposal includes more than $900 million in cuts to National Park Service operations, which the National Parks Conservation Association estimates would essentially end funding for 350 national parks, or 75 percent of the sites managed by the Park Service.

Heinrich argued that transferring parks to states would create a downward spiral for tourism and local economies. States have smaller budgets than the federal government, he said, which would force higher entrance fees that reduce visitor numbers and fee revenue.

“When national park units are transferred to states, all of that is put at risk,” Heinrich said. “States have smaller budgets, so entrance fees would have to be higher. When fees are higher, visitor numbers go down and people don’t visit those places that aren’t theirs.”

The economic stakes are significant in New Mexico, where individual parks generate substantial local revenue. White Sands National Park alone attracted 729,096 visitors in 2023 who spent $44.5 million in nearby communities, supporting 595 local jobs with a cumulative economic benefit of $53.4 million, according to National Park Service data. Carlsbad Caverns contributed $31.9 million to the local economy.

For New Mexico, Heinrich noted, the $230 million backlog in national park maintenance would represent over 2 percent of the state budget if transferred to state control, not counting additional costs for full park operations.

Heinrich’s criticism comes after a previous public lands controversy. He referenced how Sen. Mike Lee, R-Utah, “was forced to remove public lands sales from the Big, Bad Bill” due to public opposition across the political spectrum, referring to reconciliation legislation earlier this month.

“Two weeks ago, we came together, across the political spectrum, to stop the sale of our public lands,” Heinrich said. “And today we’re here to say: Not one acre and not on our watch.”

The Climate Power report Heinrich cited, titled “The High Cost of a Park Giveaway: Trump’s Plan to Offload National Parks,” was released by the research and communications organization on July 16. Climate Power Executive Director Lori Lodes joined Heinrich on the press call.

Heinrich warned that the proposal “proves once again that Donald Trump and his cronies are willing to take away access to national park sites, devastate local economies, threaten your families’ safety, and kill public service jobs, all to enrich their billionaire friends.”

The Trump Administration has already implemented significant changes to the National Park Service, including firing approximately 1,000 newly hired employees as part of broader efforts to downsize government, according to Democratic lawmakers. The administration has also imposed hiring freezes and raised entrance fees for foreign tourists at national parks.

By Hilda Joy
From the archives 8/19/2022

Our very American Fourth of July culinary celebration can be enhanced by reaching across our Southern border to our Mexican neighbors and borrowing one of their well-known street foods, Eliote, but adapting it to please several people.  After all, we corn-consuming Americans owe Mexico thanks for its agricultural gift of maize.  The word ‘Elote’ derives from ‘Elotl,’ a Nahuatl word meaning ‘corn on the cob’ or ‘tender cob.’

Having grown up in Chicago with its large Mexican population, I learned to appreciate Mexican food at an early age.  The first Mexican food I ate as a child was a tamale sold by a street vendor in our neighborhood.  This inauthentic treat, wrapped in paper rather than in a corn husk, acquainted me with masa and a spicy filling and gave me a life-long taste for Mexican food.  I did not know about Elote until much later in life when I was strolling along one of Chicago’s beautiful Lake Michigan beachfronts and getting hungry.  I bought a cob of Elote and fell in love with it and am still smitten by it.

You might not find an Elotero from whom you can buy a single cob on the street, but you can easily grill this dish in a quantity to feed your family and/or friends.
EnJOY

​Elote is a popular Mexican corn street food eaten as a single serving sometimes on a stick but most usually simply by holding it by its stem under the shuck of green leaves left on the ear.  This recipe retains the classic ingredients but serves as a side dish during grilling season.

Ingredients
6 ears sweet corn
Vegetable Oil
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1/4  cup Mexican crema
1 teaspoon chili powder
1/2 cup cotija cheese or queso fresco
1/2 cup cilantro, finely chopped
lime wedges

• Shuck ears of corn, but leave green leaves attached and folded down. 
• Remove corn silk.
• Oil grill with vegetable oil and preheat it to ‘medium.’  Grill corn for about ten minutes, turning ears often until a medium char is developed over all.  
• Remove from grill.
• Brush ears with mayonnaise and then Mexican crema.
• Sprinkle with chili powder and then cotija cheese.
• Top with cilantro.
• Serve corn warm after squeezing ears with lime juice.
• Eat corn holding it by its stem.

Poetry for the dogs.

By Zach Hively

Here’s a little secret insight, a peek behind the curtain, a glimpse behind the veil:

I am, whatever else you may have heard, a human being.

And that means I come with a whole duffel bag of junk that all the other species on Earth, so far as we know, never have to deal with.

​Except dogs. Dogs have to deal with all our junk. Because they’re dogs, and it’s what they do.

Sometimes I, being human, get in my own way.
​
This is especially true when I am trying to be a writer. It’s less true when I’m trying to put frozen chicken tenders in the oven. Most humans should be able to handle that. (Although you’d be surprised.) But writing requires me to create something outside myself, using only what’s in myself, which exists only in the world outside myself.

When I get in my own way too much as a junky human being, the best way out is to love on my dogs. And when I get in my own way too much as a writer, the best way out is to write haiku.

​Good haiku is an exquisite artform. What I usually do is chicken-tender haiku. The sort where I say to myself, “Any ol’ writer can write seventeen measly syllables!” And then I make myself prove it.

I recently undertook a Big Adventure with my dogs.

We got out of our usual everything and put ourselves somewhere new, for a time.
There is exactly one extrovert in this pack, and he took right to it.

There are exactly two introverts in this pack, and one of them handles things with much more grace than I do.

​So when the writing got tough, and my insides felt junky, I started scribbling down some chicken-tender haiku … from the perspective of two dogs on a Big Adventure.

​Here is what came out.

​hey, hey, did you know
we get the same food here, but
water tastes different

before our desert
we knew paved alleys and grass
​hello, our old friends

seasoned country dog
my first suburbanite squirrel
talk about wild life

short-term neighbor's ask:
do you want to say hi? no?
​i'm just like my dad

strangers coo "handsome!"
we have thoughts: Amazon trucks
should follow my rules

favorite toy, new rug
can i still lay on your foot?
​home away from home

By Sara Wright

​A few months ago, Carol sent me a picture that Brian took of a bird’s nest in one of the canyons. I recognized the nest immediately as one that belonged to the Great Horned Owl.

I told Carol then that I could write a story about that photo, and here I am.

Finally!

Living in Abiquiu was one of the most powerful experiences of my life, and great horned owls were an intrinsic part of that story.

A few days after moving to Abiquiu in 2016, I had placed my dove Lily b in a cage on the little porch outside my bedroom door. Imagine my shock when I looked out one evening and saw a great horned owl wandering around on the stones near the cage. Transfixed by the sight of seeing a giant meandering owl and a motionless Lily b peering down at a potential nemesis from his perch, obviously unperturbed (we read each other’s minds), was nothing short of amazing, so a couple of seconds passed before I scared the bird away.

I wasn’t worried because my dove’s cage was constructed out of thick metal hardware cloth and had a plywood roof- a sturdy roost that had been built for him so he could stay out at night. Black bears and hawks of all kinds never bothered him in Maine, so I assumed nothing could get to him here.
This naivete and stupidity on my part almost cost Lily b his life.

I left the cage outdoors because Lily b loved to sit in the rain, and even if I pulled the plywood back during a rainstorm, the mesh still protected him, and the second solid roof went back on at night.

One morning, I was awakened to a frightening, harsh croak my dove had never made before. Rushing out the door, I found my terrorized bird badly mangled and bleeding, numb with glazed eyes, suffering intensely from a deep gash that ran from his eye through his breast. Unhinged, I literally couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Kindly neighbors rushed us to a vet who said she was not certain she could save his life. It took my bird almost three months to recover. The deep wound had severed his vocal cords so he never cooed his most beautiful song again, but he lived and that was what mattered.

Who else but a night owl with powerful talons could have attacked him? I surmised that the g/horned owl must have come back, terrorized him, and once Lily b was on the floor of the cage – probably dazed/ or knocked out – the owl struck at him through the bottom 2-inch opening, a place where a tray was situated. I’ll never know.

So began our lives in Abiquiu. What is strange is that two weeks before leaving Maine, Lily b and a great horned owl conversed back and forth for three nights in a row (my dove was in the house). This conversation, although melodious, really disturbed me for reasons I didn’t understand, except that it seemed so abnormal. Normally, lily b became a rigid statue on his indoor perch whenever these owls hooted from anywhere, and they have such varied calls. Great horned owls are common in these forests around my house in Maine, and Lily had never spoken to one before.

Back to my story.

After we moved down to the river, great horned owls followed us, often perching on the roof or hooting from nearby branches at night.

Every morning when I walked to the river before dawn, I met a great horned owl who perched in one cottonwood over my head. I dissected owl pellets and sought these owls out in the canyon closest to the casita. Fascinated. Some days, a great horned owl could be seen sitting on a ledge on the edge of the stick nest in a craggy corner of that canyon or others. Occasionally, I would glimpse an owlet or two in canyon crags. For four years, I lived with owls of all kinds, but the great horned owl was the one I heard every night.


Great horned owls are in the genus Bubo. All other species are found throughout Europe, Asia, and Africa. Great horned owls can be found living in most states throughout Canada and Alaska, the US, Central, and South America.

They are large, impressive, robust birds with two prominent feathered tufts on their heads that look like ears but aren’t. Ears are unevenly placed below the tufts for acute hearing, but for me it was always those eerie glowing yellow eyes that captivated me the most (even before daylight, they were visible)…those eyes and their fierce expressions. Their pupils open widely in the dark, and retinas contain many rod cells for excellent night vision. Their eyes don’t move in their sockets, but they can swivel their heads more than 180 degrees to look in any direction. The owl’s sensitive hearing is thanks in part to their facial disc feathers that direct sound waves to their ears.

Great horned owls are nocturnal, but as my experience demonstrates, it is possible to see them long before twilight or dawn. I sometimes spied one flying across the field with large curved wings. Their calls are beautiful, a deep resonant series of whoos. Curiously, ‘the hoot of the owl’ is one of the Tewa meanings of the word Abiquiu.

Although I heard other owls call during my four years in Abiquiu, none vocalized regularly, maybe because the others chose not to voice their opinions around such a fierce character that predated on smaller owls as well as most other wildlife. They can take down animals and birds even larger than they are, but they also love mice and other tasty rodents. Here in Maine, they predate on loons, geese, and ducks.

Finding pellets and pulling them apart is a fascinating hobby I engaged in routinely, trying to figure out just who happened to be the unlucky prey.
Great horned owl coloring varies from gray-brown to a sooty gray. In Maine and New Mexico, the ones I met all looked the same with reddish patches on their faces and white at the throat. Both sexes look identical, but the female is larger.
They live just about anywhere. Around Maine, they are common in the forests, but their habitat can vary from deserts, canyons, swamps, fields, to parks!

Great horned owls are particularly common in New Mexico. Breeding season begins in early spring. They are supposed to take over the nests of other birds, and I have no way of knowing who constructed the original stick cavities that were tucked into the cliff edges in the canyons near me, because the nests I found looked similar to the one Brian photographed.

When clenched, a great horned owl’s talons require a force of 28 pounds to open. That grip can sever the spine.

Another advantage of being such an excellent predator is a long life span – twenty years or more.

My guess is that climate change will not decimate this owl, whose populations remain more than stable. How refreshing.

After returning home from Abiquiu Lily b has not had any experience with great horned owls. Occasionally, I hear one calling from out my bedroom window, but his roost is on the other side of the house. When the Boreal owl visited this winter, Lily watched him from his indoor perch, so apparently small owls don’t bother him.

One final comment. When I was in my late forties, I had a very compelling dream. I was looking at an owl who had a large crystal on her head. The feeling tone was one of beneficence. Owls are often associated with prophecy, especially great horned owls, who can also be omens of a coming death/ disaster, etc, according to many Indigenous traditions.

Although it wasn’t a great horned owl, this dream still made me feel uncomfortable, and it has stuck with me all these years.

At about the same time, I spent a weekend in Maine with a Navajo Medicine Woman who made a point of keeping her distance from me. I was baffled and hurt. Finally, I asked her what it was about me that she disliked. She told me that I had Owl Medicine, and for the Navajo, this bird spoke to her of coming death. I lost four family members in the space of less than two years.

David had one other story: "Two women came by here the other day, they'd seen my brochures and they wanted to come and see my work. They spent an hour or two looking around, and they bought a little bit of work. One of them  sent me this email, which was just really sweet, let me read it to you.  This is what she said:

‘It was a visual treat to visit you, your beautiful pup [David’s dog Cody], and see your work. I thought your studio was really handsome and so well kept. I know how much work that is. I was thinking about it last night and thinking how much money, effort, creativity and passion it takes to assemble a body of work such as yours. It's so impressive. And more than that, it shows who you are then and now. There aren't a lot of folks like you milling around these days. It may sound strange, but I'm very proud of you. It was my good fortune to meet you.’”
​
I can certainly confirm that impression. It was such a pleasure to meet this authentic, eclectic artist who cares more about his vision than about financial security. Thank you, David, for taking the time to meet with me.

David offers several workshop opportunities for people who want to learn from him. One can choose between a focus on landscape, or portrait, or the Platinum/Palladium process. There will be only one student at a time who will be fed and hosted by David, and transportation from and to the airport is included. If this amazing opportunity speaks to you, please visit David’s website for more information. 

Updated 9/9/25 - FINAL UPDATE 9/5/25 - no more further updates
​Release Date: September 5th, 2025
Acres: 17,415
Start Date: 6/25/2025
Containment: 90 %
Location: Located in the Coyote Ranger District, 8 miles north of New Mexico State Road 96 and west of the Chama River Canyon Wilderness.
Personnel: 5 
Resources: 1 engine 
Fuels: Oak brush, ponderosa pine, Piñon-juniper
Highlights: This is the final update for the Laguna Wildfire.

Engines continue to monitor and patrol the Laguna Wildfire perimeter daily.  No smoke has been visible for the last two weeks.  

The Burned Area Emergency Response (BAER) team has completed their soil burn severity map and it is available to view at Inciweb-Laguna Wildfire or NM Fire Info.

Weather and Smoke: Showers and thunderstorms are expected throughout the week in the fire area. For the most up to date smoke information, visit https://fire.airnow.gov/.

Safety: For the safety of our firefighters please avoid the area where crews are working.

Closures and Evacuations:  The Laguna Wildfire Closure Order has been lifted. Please exercise caution when traveling within the burned area. Gallina Ranch remains in READY evacuation status.

More Information: 505-435-5320 | [email protected] | x.com/SantafeNF | facebook.com/santafeNF | Inciweb-Laguna Wildfire | NM Fire Information

About the Forest Service: The USDA Forest Service has for more than 100 years brought people and communities together to answer the call of conservation. Grounded in world-class science and technology– and rooted in communities–the Forest Service connects people to nature and to each other. The Forest Service cares for shared natural resources in ways that promote lasting economic, ecological, and social vitality. The agency manages 193 million acres of public land, provides assistance to state and private landowners, maintains the largest wildland fire and forestry research organizations in the world. The Forest Service also has either a direct or indirect role in stewardship of about 900 million forested acres within the U.S., of which over 130 million acres are urban forests where most Americans live.

By: Danielle Prokop and Julia Goldberg
Source NM

On the 80th anniversary of the Trinity Test, downwinder and uranium miners discuss New Mexico’s nuclear legacy — and finally receiving recognition from the federal government
By: Danielle Prokop and Julia Goldberg - Wednesday July 16, 2025 5:49 am

The July 16, 2025 80th anniversary of the Trinity Test arrives in New Mexico at a poignant moment, and serves as just one example of the state’s nuclear legacy. Generations of survivors of the federal government’s nuclear testing program and the state’s uranium mining industry have waited for years for recognition from the United States as they watched their friends and families die from cancers.

The 1990 federal Radiation and Exposure Compensation Act — created to provide restitution to people sickened by exposure to radiation and uranium — excluded New Mexico’s downwinders and post-1971 uranium miners, and expired last year after years of lobbying for expansion by victims and New Mexico’s elected leaders. New Mexico Democratic U.S. Sen. Ben Ray Luján, for instance, began introducing RECA legislation when he was first elected to the U.S. House in 2008, and did so so every year since.
​
Just last month, Luján, other members of the state’s congressional delegation and long-time advocates held a news conference to call for RECA’s renewal once again. Over the years, the coalition calling for RECA’s expansion and extension has grown across states and become a bipartisan effort. In the end, Republican U.S. Sen. Josh Hawley of Missouri got it over the finish line as a provision in President Donald Trump’s massive tax and spending bill.
Advocates and New Mexico officials say while RECA’s passage is worthy of celebration, more remains to be done.

“It was quite a relief, because we’ve waited so long,” said Tina Cordova, founder of the Tularosa Basin Downwinders Consortium, during a news conference last week. The documentary film First We Bombed New Mexico highlights Cordova’s 20-year fight for justice for New Mexico’s downwinders. “Honestly, the acknowledgement is long past due,” she said. “But I also want to recognize…that we’re not there yet. We still have a lot of work to do.”

RECA’s two-year expansion “will not be long enough for us to get everybody enrolled that should be enrolled,” Cordova said. The bill also provides $100,000 lump sum payouts but no longer includes health care coverage. “We will take the win, and we will continue our fight,” Cordova said. “And we will also never forget that there are some very important people that have been left out: the people of Guam, the people of Colorado, the people of Montana, the remainder of Arizona and Nevada.” While grateful New Mexico was included, she said, “we will continue to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with our sisters and brothers from those places who we’ve come to love.”

Luján and Mike Crapo (R-Idaho) last week also sent letters to U.S. Attorney General Pam Bondi and Secretary of Labor Lori Chavez-DeRemer urging both to issue guidance quickly for RECA given the short timeline for compensation.

Later on Wednesday, a sign dedication will take place at the entrance to the Trinity site, placing a marker there “acknowledging the sacrifice and suffering of the people of New Mexico as a result of the Trinity bomb,” Cordova said. A mass in the evening in Tularosa will include the annual candlelight vigil and reading of the names of the people who are no longer here. Source will have coverage from both events.

In advance of the 80th anniversary, Luján issued a statement about the anniversary, characterizing it as “eight decades of pain, loss, and injustice for the victims still living with the fallout of nuclear testing and uranium mining…As we reflect on the lasting harm caused by these tests and the government’s negligence, we must renew our commitment to the people still suffering today. That means doing everything we can to help them access the compensation they deserve. Together, we will keep fighting to make sure no one is left behind.”
Below, Source’s Danielle Prokop offers portraits of some of those survivors.
​
—Julia Goldberg

Tina Cordova
​Tina Cordova has relived the death of her father, Anastacio, many times over. In speeches before a handful of people, in phone conversations with reporters and when Luján commemorated her father on the Senate floor of Congress on March 7, 2024.

Anastacio’s story starts in Tularosa in 1945. He was just 4-years-old when the federal government detonated the first atomic bomb in the Jornada Del Muerto desert 45 miles away. Like many people living there, he drank water from open cisterns, ate local crops and hunted wildlife for food — all likely contaminated with ash from radioactive fallout.

Cordova’s voice only shakes a little as she recounts his death from 12 years ago: He whittled away to 125 pounds, the pain he was in, the months on a feeding tube. He was diagnosed with two rare oral cancers and prostate cancer — all compensable under RECA, except the program excluded the New Mexicans living downwind from the first-ever bomb.

Cordova, 64, said her dad’s death also gave her clarity. She’s a cancer survivor herself and founded the Tularosa Basin Downwinders Consortium in 2005 to advocate for southern New Mexicans impacted for generations by the legacy of Trinity.

“I chose to do this work. I know it’s my life’s work. I know I’m suited to do this work, and I’m grateful that I’ve had this opportunity,” she told Source NM.

With the recent extension of RECA, her father will finally be recognized as a downwinder and her mother may finally receive compensation on his behalf.

“My dad should still be here;$100,000 pales in comparison to who he was, and who he used to be to us,” she said. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, I don’t want to minimize what it means, but that’s not justice. That’s the beginning of justice — it’s a step forward in the right direction.”
Cordova said she’ll take the fight back to Congress to expand benefits to states and territories that were left out and require the government to pay to cover health care costs for people exposed.

She said that in the last year, her niece was diagnosed with thyroid cancer and her youngest brother with kidney cancer.

“This just doesn’t end for us,” Cordova said. “These are the people that we can never stop fighting for. These are the people that we can never allow to be forgotten, to just basically be treated as the human collateral damage.”

Larry and Arlene Juanico
​Just under the mesa, past the horno outside of Arlene Juanico’s childhood home, lie the remains of the Jackpile uranium mine, once the largest in the world. Nearly 60 miles outside of Albuquerque, the holes appear on Laguna Pueblo lands between the red and white striated mesas, nearly abutting the little village of Paguate.

​With the rush for nuclear arms during the Cold War and the domestic expansion of nuclear power, the federal government was seeking to purchase uranium. A thick belt of ore snaked from Navajo Nation lands through Grants and into Laguna Pueblo. The mine operated from 1951 to 1984, marring the landscape. Tracks from the trucks wind through the valley. Entire mesas now have a terraced effect from the strip-mining. After the rain, there comes the smell: a sharp, metallic smell of uranium.

Life in the village before the closure was punctuated by blasts from the mine site, scattering light yellow dust across the landscape.

“When they blasted, everything shook, our homes rattled,” she said. “Often the ladies would run out to get the laundry, get whatever meat or fruit would be drying in the yards.”

Like her father and brother  — who later died from cancers — Arlene Juanico worked at the mine. She drove the water truck on the narrow roads, making good money at what she thought was a good job for a single mother. Her husband Larry Juanico also worked at the mine, then transferred to the Bluewater Mill, where the ore was processed into yellowcake uranium, with minimal safety precautions. People packed uranium into 55-gallon drums with their bare hands. He’d have to clean bins by climbing into them and scrubbing them with a brush, no masks, no suits.

Since they worked after 1972, the Juanicos and other uranium miners and millers did not qualify for RECA, even as many died or were sickened by exposure from radiation. But even now, the recognition or compensation from RECA is paltry to the devastation left by the mine, he said.

“Our people, our animals, our culture, our way of life are all affected by what’s happened here. The money part of it is good, but it’ll only last for a certain amount of time,” Larry Juanico said. “After all that’s gone — we’ll still be dealing with this.”
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After the mine’s closure, the waste it left behind leaked uranium and other metals into the surface water and released radon, a cancer-causing gas, into the air and people’s homes. Clean up by the federal government remains unfinished.

The Juanicos said federal efforts to restart uranium mining in the area are insulting to the people sickened by exposure.

“They haven’t been taking care of us, but they want to start new mines,” Arlene Juanico said. “That will force the next generation to still fight for what the federal government still hasn’t lived up to.”

Paul Pino
Paul Pino, a retired schoolteacher, was in a daze for several days after Congress passed RECA on July 3, saying the July 4th weekend passed in a haze.
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“I’m feeling two very different things,” he said. “On one hand, totally ecstatic, like over the moon, the best feeling of victory and happiness I’ve ever had in my life. On the other, I feel terrible for the people who’ve been left out from the bill; they needed the compensation also.”

​Pino was born nine years after Trinity, but his mother, big brother and two older sisters were living on his family’s Carrizozo ranch, only 54 miles from the test site. His mother survived bouts of skin cancer, but died from bone cancer – selling her pickup to pay for her funeral costs just before her death. His older brother Greg died from stomach cancer, while one sister had breast cancer and the other suffered from several brain tumors.

“It was 100% devastation to my family,” he said.

Pino joined the steering committee at the Tularosa Basin Downwinders Consortium to fight for compensation for New Mexicans impacted by Trinity.

“All my life, plus more, people in New Mexico still have been waiting for some peace,” he said. “They got it on the 80th anniversary. It’s better late than never, you know?”

Pino performs a song titled “It Ain’t Over ‘til We Win,” about the downwinders’ struggle. He recently changed the lyrics of the last line: “Yeah we won, and it’s still not over.”

“But that’s all right,” he said. “You know it’ll be a good fight.”

Phil Harrison
Uranium mining was supposed to be a good job, not a death sentence. But for hundreds of people on the Navajo Nation, it was just that, said former uranium miner Phil Harrison.

“There was no warning of the dangers,” Harrison told Source NM. “They took advantage of us.”

Harrison, 74, is an advocate with the Uranium Radiation Victims Committee, a grassroots group formed in the 1970s as rising deaths and injuries rose among Navajo Nation uranium workers. He grew up in Cove, Arizona where 32 Ker-McGee Corporation mines operated from the 1940s to the 1980s. He was an underground uranium worker and remediated sites near Tuba City.
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He lost his father at age 44 to lung cancer, after 20 years working in the mines. His father was part of a spate of men on the Navajo Nation dying from lung diseases and various cancers, 400 former uranium workers died in Cove and Red Valley alone.

“It wasn’t just the miners. Spouses and children who were also getting contaminated and exposed to radiation,” he said.

The grassroots group was one of the first to file lawsuits seeking compensation from the federal government, which led to Congress establishing RECA in 1990 and expanding the program in the 2000s.

The two-year window for the RECA expansion offers little time to collect the necessary documentation and visit doctors, sometimes out of state. For former uranium workers who are now eligible, that could mean difficulties since many rely on oxygen, are hospitalized or rely on assisted living and family caretakers.

“We have to get started right away,” he said. “Time is of the essence.”

Bernice Gutierrez
Bernice Gutierrez, 80, nearly shares a birthday with the Trinity Anniversary, born in Carrizozo only eight days before the blast. Her family moved to Albuquerque just a few years after the test, but health concerns followed. Gutierrez documented 41 members of her family experiencing some form of sickness, including 23 members with cancers. Seven have died as a result, including her son from pre-leukemia in 2020.

She’s documented health issues among downwinders and their descendants post-Trinity test for more than a decade, volunteering with the Tularosa Basin Downwinders Consortium.

Gutierrez called the passage “bittersweet,” as the short extension of RECA came inside a bill that cuts food assistance and medical care programs for low-income residents, which New Mexico relies heavily on.
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“If the Medicaid cuts come to pass, it’s going to put people here in a world of hurt,” she said.

utierrez said there’s only two short years to extend the program, while trying to enroll folks who never qualified before, meaning a lot of work for the volunteers ahead.
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“It was not the victory that we had hoped for, but one that we’re happy to get. It’s a starting point for us, but a point that we will continue working on to change,” Gutierrez said.

These streaks are not to be confused with my natural state of “being streaky.” The numbers hook my self-care to how many days in a row I accomplish even the quickest of tasks.

If I’m a Hemsworth at anything, it’s rushing through my Spanish practice lesson at two minutes to midnight, just so my three friends won’t feel let down. I do this while pacing to up my step count. Gaming the metrics, baby.

Strangely enough, none of these efforts make me feel like I am a better self. Numbers don’t lie—but then again, neither do rocks, and I have found much more inner calm among those than I ever did in algebra class. I find myself remembering, yet again, that numbers alone aren’t destroying my life—but thinking I can quantify my way to passion, dedication, and my very first abdominal muscle means I might be missing something deeper and more fulfilling.

I’m reminded of the time an elderly neighbor entrusted me, a teenager, to watch her house for a week. She told me how many times to water her plants. Accomplishing that metric drove me, still a teenager, to actually remember to watch her house and water her plants. The numbers had me.

Riding by that house a short time later, I pointed out the front porch flowerbed and proclaimed I must have done a good job watering them right on schedule. My family laughed and laughed. Ninetieth percentile laughter. Those flowers, they said, were fake. Plastic flowers. They needed watered exactly zero times to look that bright.

That all adds up to a pretty good lesson, if (unlike me) you care to do the math.