Deluge in A Paper Cup

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(This is the third of nine reflections on a spiritual journey I have been taking, and some of the  human struggles that have been concurrent to the journey.)

Neil Finn wrote this phrase, relative to a long-forgotten personal struggle of his own.  I tend to do this all the time, working hard to solve my friends’ problems, while using inadequate resources. Today, I tried to get up to Colorado Springs, from western Oklahoma, in time for a mid-afternoon discourse with another Word Press friend. Leaving Enid at 8 AM, and having a sit-down breakfast in Laverne, OK, at 10, probably didn’t hurt my efforts too much, but somehow I ended up unequal to the task, and have to try and reschedule, before leaving the Front Range on Wednesday morning.

The key here seems to be getting over the adage, “Too many cooks spoil the broth.”  I have had several different viewpoints expressed to me, regarding my own foibles that have surfaced on this trip and other events associated with my posts.  Some of the viewpoints address people’s personal issues, and I have had to tell more than one individual to respect the privacy of others.  Nonetheless, for the most part, every living soul has a role to play in the unfoldment of human civilization.  Some destroy aspects of the community, which were probably untenable anyway.  Others build up new and stronger communal features.

I have good friends who set me straight on my own shortcomings, and I reserve the right to point things out to others, albeit in as nice a way as possible.  So, I do think the above-mentioned adage is often a false assumption.

There are, however, times when a person who has not been allowed to do things on his/her own, needs to be given the chance to try- perhaps to fail- at handling a personal issue, without the gang being all here.  The key is dignity, always self-worth.  I failed today, but I learned valuable lessons.  Other friends have tried, mightily, to resolve personal issues, and sometimes have not been successful.  To me, the fact that they each gave their struggles 100% of what is in them is what is most important.

The Higher Power will protect and rejuvenate the person who is in an honest struggle.  I am so proud of each and every one of my friends and family, who struggle on their own.  My son, my youngest living brother, my best friend among the living, and several of my better friends in Arizona, Illinois, Oklahoma, California and elsewhere have fought personal battles both on their own and in concert with others, and are doing their level best.  That’s all that matters, really.  God either gives us another chance to right our mistakes or brings people into our lives who can better help rectify things.

So, making the effort, even with inadequate resources, releases energy that will both bring the nettlesome problem into wider perspective and attach the issue to other, related matters, thus “killing several flies with one swat”, so to speak.  We owe it to one another to discern the difference between a matter which is best left to an individual to resolve and a highly intractable matter, requiring several points of view for resolution.

Circles of Pain

14

I am an acquired taste.  I have been so, for many years, partly because of mild autism and partly because I am an odd mix of the cerebral, the sensual and the spiritual.  My words often need a second, or third hearing or reading,because of this complexity.  Still, as I have been reminded by both well-meaning friends and by my own meditation, I am in no want of quality companionship and daily doses of love.

My angst of the past week has been mistaken by some observers as being a cry for physical intimacy.  The fact, though, is that I have been celibate,by faith and by choice, for the past four years.  I will not sully my dignity, or anyone else’s, by adding further details on that aspect of my life.

I have felt a high level of pain, largely because I am empathetic to the current sufferings of a very dear friend, in fact my best friend in the physical frame.  I have spoken of this often enough that I can leave that aspect alone as well.

Each of us, no matter how prosperous, how well-off we appear on the surface, has to undergo a certain level of angst and pain.  Without these, we settle for our lot, in an imperfect world, failing to realize the true reason for our physical existence, which is to know and love God.  If it seems this is difficult in the flesh, imagine doing it in the non-physical, spiritual realm which awaits us.  Just as none of us can ever completely understand even a fleeting glimpse of Who God is, to take the figurative, allegorical descriptions of the Spiritual Realm to heart,and conjure images of an infernal fire or a blissful paradise, is equally frivolous.  The time to focus on one’s virtues is now, not in the hereafter, where far more intense tasks probably await us.

Going back to the topic of emotional pain, I have found it circular in its course.  What starts out as a nettlesome problem for one person, quickly affects his/her significant other, family members, closest friends, advisers/mentors, and ripples out to the point where hangers-on, however well-meaning, get in over their heads.    The circle thus may become pain-inducing,well beyond its original scope.

The key to breaking a circle of pain is for one and all to turn to the Higher Power, whatever you perceive Him, Her  or It to be.  Whether God, the Unknowable Essence,the Holy Spirit, or the Universe, this Force, and only this Force, can heal the pain.  This is why I have gone to so many sacred places on my current journey.  I would not have done this so intensely, had my best friend not taken me aside and told me of the cause of her emotional pain.  I don’t regret trying to help her.  I would give my life for this woman.  She is not a physical diversion or a replacement for my departed spouse.  She is a thinking, feeling, virtuous human being, who has the ability to rise above her pain.  Likewise, her spouse has the ability to rise above his pain.  We all do, and we all deserve one another’s help, and the Power of Divine Assistance.  This is applicable to all, from the baby getting frustrated by hunger, to the victims of war in places like Syria, dodging daily bullets.

I do not care to hear about how good I have it, compared to others.  I know how well-off I am, and am grateful to God, to His Messenger, Baha’u’llah, to my angel, Penny and to all my sincere friends, for my relative good fortune.  This is not about me.  My current focus is on one person’s pain, and walking it back to all those in the circle, who are suffering, and getting a handle on what lessons may be learned, and how to move on, as a group.  I want my friend’s circle of pain to be broken- ENOUGH!

Love, Dignity, Anguish and Redemption

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(This is the first of nine posts relative to some spiritual insights I have received while on the road and on the trails.)

All relationships have three aspects:  The regard one has for self, the regard one has for the other person and the regard the pair have for those around them.  I have thought a lot about these aspects, for the past five or six days.

Over the course of my life, I have had lots of “crushes” on girls and women, starting with when I was four, and thought a girl in the neighbourhood was cute, and most recently when I attended a Slow-Food USA regional meeting and was distracted by a tall, long-haired brunette with a very engaging personality.  The thing about crushes- most of you know the drill- is that sooner, rather than later, reality sets in, in the form of the receiver’s father, boyfriend or, in the most ambiguous situations, her husband.  I also have lots of friends, of both genders and sexual orientations, whom I love dearly, in a platonic or paternal way.

I have moved on from crushes, with no harm done to anyone.  My regard for myself stayed intact, I usually ended up with two friends, instead of one, and the Universe chuckled at Gary being at it again.

I have been really, seriously, in deep love only twice in my life.  Most of you know a fair amount about the first time.  Penny is still with me in my heart, and on my shoulder- advising me to be “dry in the ocean”- unaffected by the “oceans” of temporary poverty, fatigue, being misunderstood, getting lost on a trail, or being devoid of human company. Our marriage thrived, despite extreme adversity on occasion.  Most marriages undergo such challenges.  Ours were getting bad financial advice, her falling ill, our bankruptcy and our eventually having to put our house on the short-sale market.  I managed to keep her in the home, until the end of her earthly days.  It was a matter of dignity, as was our working together, consulting on almost everything, getting over disagreements almost as soon as we had them, and affirming our love for one another at least twice a day.  Terms of endearment flew back and forth between us, constantly each day, right up until the end.  I will see her again some day, in a far better world.

I did not set out, that windy, wet and cold night of December 6, 1980, in Zuni, NM, to meet the first love of my life.  It just happened.  It ran the course of initial attraction, casual dating, the building of a solid friendship, her working through a crush on a wealthier, more glamourous man, our getting back together, her realizing that she loved me, our wedding, some tempestuousness in the early years of wedlock, parenthood and my being her caretaker, for nearly eight years.

I did not set out, either, a year after Penny’s passing, to meet and be enamoured of yet another person.  Indeed, for the first year I knew the woman I now regard as my best friend in the world, I was not conscious of any strong feelings for her, other than that I was very, very happy when we were briefly together, and it was she whom i wanted to be the first to know when I hiked Bright Angel Trail to the Colorado River and back, on the same day.  She was in a good place, emotionally and in terms of her relationship with her significant other.

I was raised by loving parents, who taught me the sanctity of marriage and the need for both partners to do their absolute best, way beyond any concept of comfort zone.  The spouse’s feelings came first, then the welfare of the children, and the status of the family in the larger community.  My Mom and Dad loved us, one equally as much as the others. They loved each other best of all.

That was what brought my buried feelings to the surface, not long ago.  I had a fairly long talk with my friend, and learned she was not being treated with dignity and consideration.  My tendency with Penny, when she was disrespected by anyone, was to come to her defense.  It worked for her, because while she was incredibly intelligent and articulate, she was used to her father’s ferocious defense of her and her sisters.

The situation this time is far different.  For one thing, while I recognize that my feelings for my best friend are deep, indelible and that they are never going away, I have had to be more careful.  She is the second woman I have ever  loved totally and completely, outside of my biological family, and yet romance is a minor factor, if it is a factor at all.  There are, at present, other goals that concern us both, but which she, first and foremost, has to be the one to promulgate.  I can, and will, defend my best friend, if push comes to shove.  For the present, though, it’s her dignity and self-worth that need to be front and center.  I want, above all else, for this beautiful and powerful woman to realize her dreams.

As I was wandering among the sacred precincts of Medicine Wheel, Bear Lodge/Devils Tower, Harney Peak and Pipestone Quarries, over the past four days,  I kept getting the message that the Universe was not done with me yet, in terms of my relationships with women- that there could be as many as nine people, from Penny onward, who would be part of some sort of inner circle of spirit friends, between now and the day I pass to the next realm.  These women could be very old or very young.  Most would already have spouses or significant others, whose dignity and personal challenges would also require my due consideration.  Our relationships would be deep, and primarily spiritual, with physical attraction only a fleeting impulse.  Maybe that’s the larger lesson from the events of the past week or so.  I may very well never see my best friend again in this life, though I hope that’s not the case.  I know, however, that I will never be the same person I was before I met her, and that in itself is a comfort.

This brings me to redemption.  Christians take it on faith that Christ took care of the redemption of humanity, by His own sacrifice.  Baha’is believe that a Messenger of God offers His followers a path to redemption. I have had to redeem my worth countless times, over the years.  I have had plenty of help in that regard, from family members, real time friends, online friends and from my soul mate in the spirit world.  Ultimately, though, I have to be the one achieving redemption. So does each other person, in his or her own space.  My best friend needs to be away from me for the time being, so I am hoping she doesn’t see this until she is ready to read it.  Still, I needed to share my insights, and will continue to share them, regarding other aspects of my journey.   Until I see you again, if ever, I pray all the forces of the universe to light your way, my blessed and irreplaceable fellow traveler.

A Benign Bastille Day

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Yesterday, the bunch of us piled into several cars, and headed first to The Delectable Egg, in Westminster, CO.  This was our Birthday Brunch for the twin ladies.  Melissa took excellent care of our large group, and we continued the fine conversations from last night.

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Afterwards, five of us headed to Boulder, where we first went up to the Flatiron area, on Flagstaff Mountain.  We got a fine view of UC- Boulder, below.

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The twins and their men are thoroughly impressed with the view.

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Our next stop was Boulder Canyon.  The falls trail was closed, but we got some nice views from the fence, anyway.

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The imp in me was sorely tempted to hop the fence and be photo’d inside the hole in the rock!

We capped a perfect outing with a visit to Pearl Street Mall, for ice cream, hot Puer tea, and an hour’s worth of browsing.  A didgereedoo player added to the festivities, as did a bubble man and a violinist.

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There is something for everyone in Boulder.

July 12-13, 2013

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I found my old friends’ homestead with relative ease, on Friday morning.  I had not been out to the community of Dinnebito (“Peoples’ Water”) in 21 years.  It was therefore a blessing, when I received instructions on using a back way, that did not require going up and down what is little more than a jeep track over rocks.  I stayed for two hours, enjoying talk on a variety of topics, from life in the South (First daughter is married and lives most of the year in Alabama) to the unruliness of some sheep.

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After a simple, well-prepared lunch, courtesy of a visiting family from Oklahoma, I left my friends and headed northeast.  The terrain of the Colorado Plateau, on the Navajo nation varies from sage and juniper-covered mountains to red sandstone formations, such as Round Rock and Castle Rock.

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I made it past Four Corners, where Arizona, Utah, Colorado and New Mexico meet at a single point.  Just on the New Mexico side of the line, an oil tanker truck had overturned, leading to a serious mess.  Fortunately, it seemed the driver had escaped serious injury.

I stopped at Mancos, having dinner at Grand Cafe, and photographing a double rainbow.                                                               SAM_5194SAM_5192           SAM_5194

After a much-needed night’s sleep, I got up at 5:30 AM, learned a friend’s situation that had been causing me consternation had been eased somewhat, and headed on up the road.  A good breakfast at Junction Restaurant, in Pagosa Springs, CO led me to reflect that our young waitresses do try hard to make their patrons’ meals worthwhile.  Both Brier, at Grand Cafe, Mancos and Kayla at the Junction were attentive and a joy to be around.  I think I will continue “shoutouts” to people who work hard at this job that is not always so rewarding.

I had a pleasant drive through the spine of the Rockies, over Wolf Creek Pass, to Del Norte and then up Rte. 285, the “Gunshot”, which connects southern Colorado most directly with Denver.  As today, I was able to enjoy relatively clear skies, I got some views of La Garita Range and the Collegiate Peaks, near Buena (pronounced “Beoona”) Vista.

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I arrived in Northglenn in plenty of time to rest before my sisters-in-law were guests of honour at their *** birthday party.  About twenty five guests made it a lively and enjoyable evening.  Now, it’s time for bed, just about.

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Nineteen

11

I have refrained from speaking on this recent, horrible event in our area, because the tragedy has drawn a lot of commentary already, and while I am an open book, it’s imperative that less attention be drawn to any one person who is outside the circle of those suffering.

On June 30, 2013, twenty men went into harm’s way, with no thought of themselves.  One came out alive, only because he was trying to get the others out as well, and did all he could to get his crew members to follow suit.

Yet, the fire had other plans.  The fire was too quick, and the wind moved with vengeance, pushing infernal flames in the direction of the living, the unselfish.  That’s the way of fire.  It is supposed to cleanse, the way vermin are supposed to cleanse, when so often, they spread disease and death from the very germs they seek to clean up.  So often, fire overdoes it.

Thus it was, on that Sunday afternoon.  A gentle, welcoming small village, at the cusp of mountains and desert, found itself fleeing a behemoth.    Neighbours to the northeast were largely spared, when the wind shifted, backwards, but their protectors fell.

The guardians died; their families are now on their knees, wondering who will guard and resuscitate them.  Some of us offer answers of reassurance.  I have learned, though, that the best offers of love and support mean nothing, unless and until they are fulfilled.  In some cases, this fulfillment will take years, and may occasionally be deferred by other concerns or be battered by the anger, the despair, the palpable hurt that accompanies any and all grief.

Nineteen souls have joined the pantheon of the hereafter, what we in the American Legion call Post Everlasting.  Nineteen families have joined the assembled multitude of those for whom the public cares, for a time.  Their true friends, though, will be those who do not stop caring, who will accept them and love them through all the pain, the sorrow and the occasional lashing-out.  These friends will be there until the end, and I pray God that end is not a bitter one.

Fifty Things I Like

13

Every so often, I am in the mood to make a list.  Favorite people would be a dicey thing here, lest I inadvertently leave someone out, and he/she gets all butt-hurt, which would not be my intention.  I have found the same to be true when I make a list of favourite places- someone will come on and say:  “Hey, YOU LEFT OUT ……..!!!”

I will go with things, and if I left out your fave, make your own list. LOL

Here goes, in no particular order:

1.Sunrise

2. Blueberries in summer

3. Apple cider in autumn

4. Mountains

5. Smiles

6. The sound of children playing happily

7.  The ocean

8. Snow at Christmas

9. Hiking

10. Lean meat

11. Hummus

12. Nose rings or nose studs, on young women

13.  Dachshunds

14.  Joyous laughter

15.  Historical sites

16. Dreams

17. Sunsets

18. Bright moons

19. Magical fantasies

20. Restful sleep

21. Songs sung well

22. The Baha’i Faith

23. Fireworks, on a country’s National Day

24.  Thanksgiving Dinner

25. Gatherings of good friends

26. 15-minute mid-day naps

27.  Healthy-looking human forms

28.  Rottweilers

29.  Horses

30.  Rain forests

31.  Well-arranged art

32.  Historical fiction

33.  Lasagna

34.  Pandora (the music channel)

35.  Revolution (the television program)

36.  Blogs

37.  Lush deserts

38.  Beaches

39.  Gentle rain

40.  Hugs

41.  Cliff dwellings (to view from a distance)

42.  Well-crafted pizza

43. Kimchi

44. Late-night discussions

45.  Road trips

46.  Well-played sporting events

47. Friendship

48. Families

49. Curiosity

50. Happy couples

My Women Friends

6

I came back, about two hours ago, from an absolutely delightful evening, where 45 people celebrated the successful career, and retirement (transition into second career) of the woman who is the driving force behind Slow Food Prescott.  Her whirling dervish approach to life is very closely approached by the energy and drive of her husband of over 30 years.

I have many women friends.  Most of them are in committed relationships with fine people, who treat them the way I treated my late darling Penny. Those who are “unattached” know that I care for them as people.  Romance is a dicey thing, though, and can’t be forced.

My best women friends are affectionate in their speech, using terms like “Baby”,”Sweetie”, “Honey”, the way a lot of waitresses use such terms- in coquetry, and with genuine, nonsexual love for the person whom they are addressing.  They are people on whom I can depend in time of need, but I am not their lover.  I, too, use terms like “Sweetheart”, “Angel”, and “Precious”, in addressing women I have known for at least six months- not as a patronizing and demeaning term, but as a sign that I value them.

My women friends are, mostly, huggers and touchers.  A few prefer the handshake, and that’s just fine.  I can trust them every bit as much as the rest of my friends.

Women make good friends, to me, because they are essentially kind, honest and take a sisterly or daughterly interest in my world.  I  get along fine with men, but our relationships, other than those with my son, brothers and nephews, are MOSTLY professional and businesslike.  I can’t envision a world in which I have no women friends.

Millennials and Me

17

Over the past crazy two weeks, with the funeral of an old friend, two tragic wildfires and their resulting Red Cross shelters, a trip to San Diego and a major Fourth of July parade under my belt, I have found one recurring strand:  I feel most comfortable around people between the ages of 14-30.

Millennials, like all rising generations, get a bad rap from those older than themselves.  They are not as tradition-bound as Baby Boomers, nor are they as acquisitive as members of Generation X.  They actually most resemble- the GI Generation!  Why?  Both generations are about recovery from hardship and disaster.  The current rising generation has not seen their world hit rock-bottom, yet.  There is, however, a cosmic sense that “It’s coming”, hence the plethora of media about vampires, zombies and extra-terrestrial invaders.

It’s not without precedent.  The 1930’s and ’40’s had Buck Rogers films, the original Dracula and Frankenstein series and a later concern, in the ’50’s, with nuclear holocaust.

The Millennials can relate to the plausibility of a reversion to survival instincts and the tribal life.  Witness television of recent times:  “Survivor”, “Lost”, “Siberia”, “The Walking Dead”, “Revolution”, “Under the Dome”, “True Blood”- all concerned with dystopia and its aftermath.  “Breaking Bad” explores decent into dystopia in the lives of one man and his circle of family and friends.  The same theme reverberates in film and other media.

I grew up wondering how I would deal with dystopia.  I focused greatly on the affairs of the wider world, which put me largely outside the loop with my Baby Boomer peers, especially with other boys and men, who were more concerned with the parochial and day-to-day that was right in front of them.  Like Robert F. Kennedy, I paraphrased G.B. Shaw:  “I think of things that never were and say, ‘Why not?'”

Another reason, closer to home, binds me to the Millennial Generation:  My son is a member of it.  His friends are mostly Millennials. His future wife will most likely be from within his generation.  In my own wife’s last years, I found my home was a refuge of sorts, for the people in Aram’s social circle who were either homeless or strangers within their own family.  This brought me into e-culture, the unique and very subtle humor which that culture has spawned, the colourful slang expressions that come from it and the post-racial, post-sexist worldview that is slowly taking root among Millennials.    Racists and sexists walk among the Millennials and reproduce, but they are seen by their peers, increasingly, as anachronistic embarrassments, appendages of a fading generation.

Two things, though, bind me to Aram’s generation and to the one which is coming after it (which I will call Generation AA, born since 2001.).  First, there is a global, unified, holistic sense of things.  People know what I’m talking about when I mention a particular situation in a country far from where we happen to be speaking.  The tendency to redirect back to “around here”, so prevalent among those over the age of 40, is not so evident among Millennials, though they are quite adept at being present in the now.

The second tie that binds is I am accepted as a friend, an equal, by the vast majority of young people whom I encounter.  Maybe it’s the fact that I respect them for their strengths and gifts, and try not to dominate, but I feel their acceptance is genuine.  They neither refrain from correcting what they feel I might be doing wrong, in a loving way, nor do they hold back appreciation of what I do on their behalf.  The honesty permeates our relationships, and I don’t think it is just a feature of naivete or idealism.  Millennials have not had the luxury of idealism, without attendant action.  Every dream they have ever entertained has had to be followed up with intense action.  There will be no “Flower Power” phase on this watch.

Besides Aram, I count four particular people of the Millennial Generation as friends who have my back, no matter what.  Three of them are women.  While I begrudge nothing of older men who have taken Millennial women as mates, such an arrangement is not my purpose.  I love them as friends, and encourage their romantic life to be with their age-mates.

It is also true that I have many friends among all generations, including my own.  They, too, invariably relate well to “the kids”.  This is what sustains us, and will bring us along, through what ever calamities and troubles that will occur, as the world is cleansed.

 

Missing Their Water

9

There was an old country song that went “You don’t miss your water ’til your well runs dry.”  This was a reference to the end of a love affair, but it is now being experienced in a literal sense.

I learned, while having breakfast at Eagle Guest Ranch, Datil, NM, last Tuesday morning, that the village of Magdalena, twenty miles or so further east, had indeed used the last of the water in its well.  Emergency rations were being trucked in from Socorro, by the New Mexico National Guard.

This will threaten the old village’s very existence, so I went there to have a look at Magdalena, and say prayers for the resolution of this matter.  Magdalena is the harbinger of what could become a widespread phenomenon, throughout the arid West, and Plains region.

Here are some scenes of the small town itself.  On the left, is the old train depot and on the right is the Ilfeld General Store, now used as residential and office space.

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These, and some thriving motels and restaurants, will be the immediate victims of the impending dry-out.  The schools and medical clinic will be next, impacting both Magdalena and the Alamo Navajo Community, twenty miles north.

All New Mexico is embracing this small community, and nowhere is the action more intense, though quiet, than at New Mexico Mining and Technical Institute, in nearby Socorro.  The biggest issue, immediately, is to find a drill which can penetrate the unique rock of the Magdalena area.  It is apparently just the right mix of igneous and sedimentary rock that has defied conventional well-drilling equipment, up to now.  The greater issue, long-term, is a water replenishment plan that will require drastic rethinking of settlement patterns and conservation strategies.  The main center for this research, then, is here:

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Magdalena, then, is Ground Zero for the Quiet Crisis that faces us all in the arid regions, the world over. (Think the Middle East is unsettled now?  Wait until the battle for the Euphrates and Tigris heats up.)

Here is the latest on the situation in Magdalena.  Stay tuned.

“APD collects water for dry Magdalena, NM

Water shortage in small town has prompted drive

Updated: Friday, 21 Jun 2013, 7:59 AM MDT
Published : Friday, 21 Jun 2013, 7:59 AM MDT

ALBUQUERQUE (KRQE) – Operation Hope, the water collection drive headed up by the Albuquerque Police Department has collected six moving trucks worth of water which will be shipped to Magdalena, New Mexico.

Water in the town of Magdalena started running dry in the wells a few weeks ago. Since then, tanker trucks have been bringing in water from nearby towns.

As a result of the water shortage, the town has also had to resort to using port-a-pottys in some places as an alternative to toilets.

APD says they will continue to collect bottled water to take to Magdalena in the coming weeks.”- Courtesy of KOAT-TV,Albuquerque, June 21, 2013.