The Lyon Letters- Introduction

North of Central Avenue and near 12th street, in a quiet residential area on the edge of downtown Albuquerque, there stands a house with a story behind it. To be fair, all houses have stories behind them- long-ago people who led their lives behind the walls; the fingerprints of anonymous builders embedded in basement plaster; a child’s name scrawled on cracking concrete. But how many of these stories do we get a chance to learn? Unless their name is attached to some other fame, most lives are soon forgotten.

So it would be with William B. Lyon, an army doctor who lived in New Albuquerque during the years of 1882-1887, and built the house near 12th Street out of adobe carved from the ground beside it soon after his arrival in the young city. He was not famous, nor influential. His name does not grace any street-sign in Albuquerque or any other town that I'm aware of, and if it were not for a series of fortuitous circumstances, it is likely that his story, and his perspective on the earliest growth of New Mexico's largest city would be utterly forgotten today. But it is his story that I intend to tell.

What were the fortuitous circumstances that led to me being able to tell this one particular story, exactly? Perhaps most importantly, Dr. Lyon was in love. At the age of 39, two years after he left the army, Lyon met and became engaged to Corie Bowman in Mesilla, New Mexico. Seeing opportunity in the burgeoning town of New Albuquerque, Lyon moved there and worked to establish his medical practice and build a home for his soon-to-be family while his 25 year-old fiance remained behind. Although their relationship was complicated by questions of religion and a difference in age and experience, the couple clearly loved one another and wrote almost every day for the six month period of their separation. Their letters offer a unique view of New Albuquerque’s earliest days, a time when the city was literally rising out of the sandhills east of Old Town. Lyon offers his personal opinions on the city, describes some of Albuquerque's influential figures (many of whom are still known today by the streets that were named after them), and tells of his life in the nascent town with a focus on all the little details that form the day-in-day-out of any new arrival's experience. Lyon's love for his young fiance gives his letter writing an urgency and personal poignancy, conveying a strong sense of emotional narrative. His letters are, in a word, compelling.

Perhaps that is why the second of the fortuitous events came to pass- Lyon's descendants kept the letters he and his young wife had written to each other, carefully preserving and transcribing them so that they survive up to the present day.

And then, perhaps most incredibly, I happened to meet Curtis Hunt, a relative-by-former-marriage of Dr. Lyon's descendants. Curtis had heard of my book, Forgotten Albuquerque (which, incidentally, makes a great Christmas gift!), and told me about the letters his ex-wife, Barbara Connell, the great-granddaughter of William Lyon, had in her possession. Then, after I showed some enthusiasm, he communicated my interest to Barbara, who graciously allowed me access to the letters, and permission to use them on this blog.

And thus is the present series, probably spanning the next month and a half or so, of blog posts possible. I hope that you find Dr. Lyon's story as fascinating as I do.

To Be Continued...