Who Was Juan Tabo
The legend of the shepherd haunts the scholars of Albuquerque.
No one knows who he was or how his stories came to be.
This is his little known tale born on the wings of truth.
Some had to be imagined by your humble sleuth.
Villagers could not hear the footsteps of his sandals.
In his pack were blankets, food and candles.
Above his head, near cloud high, he sees an eagle.
He would wish that good times would come for his people.
In 1756 Comanche Indians raided Tijeras canyon south of the Sandias.
His village was small, only sheep corrals and a few casitas.
In his early years as a boy in a small pueblo he didn’t have time to play
Juan had learned the Pueblo way and the Christian way
Of the two, he didn’t know which was right.
But, with a little bit of schooling, he learned to write.
He was Juan, son of Lupina a Taboso, Pueblo Indian basket maker.
It was his uncle on his father’s side that taught him to be a sheep herder.
Man and dog lead their sheep to high pasture.
He could direct the dog and sheep with a simple gesture.
His summer days with the sheep were long and quiet
Dried
fruit and meat made up his simple diet.
He was Juan of Taboso. He wrote his name Juan Tabo.
Sometimes he would say it out loud in the canyon to hear it echo
In his early years of herding sheep to the mountains in summer
He would scratch his name on rocks and canyon walls so he could remember.
Coming back in the fall he could easily follow and find his way home.
He could take different trails. Juan Tabo loved to roam.
In the warm summer afternoons in Taboso he would tell stories
The children would gather and hear about the Conquistadores.
The Comanche raided villages they did some bad and some good.
Sometimes in the olden days it was hard to get enough food.
They learned of the great sickness when everyone washed with yucca
soap;
Of planting seeds to harvest corn and squash and cantaloupe.
Juan lived for many years and told his stores to all who would listen.
The people loved him. He would smile and his tooth would glisten.
He was a simple man, a shepherd of sheep, a teller of tales
He left his name so he and we could follow his many trails.
And, so it was, in the life and times of Juan Tabo
We still find his name on the trails of New Mexico.
Bob Frost
Scottsdale Poet Laureate