TALES OF THE SOUTHWEST: A CORONA IN CORONA

                                                     Downtown Corona, New Mexico




By Grant McGee

Corona, New Mexico.   It’s one of those New Mexico towns that used to be something but now it’s not.   Corona is one of those “blink and you miss it” towns of rural New Mexico…a town made up of a row of run-down buildings on one side of the highway and BNSF train tracks on the other.  The fact of the matter is the famous UFO crash of 1947 happened closer to Corona than to Roswell.  It should’ve been called “The Corona Incident” but Roswell had the big ol’ airbase and that’s where the crash was reported.

Me?  I remember Corona as a place where I almost got caught in the crossfire of a barroom fight.

Back when I lived in Roswell I used to pick up extra money by disc jockeying community and high school dances. Corona High School had hired me and my fellow disc jockey, the Legendary Wayne K. to play the tunes for their end-of-the-school-year dance.

Wayne and I rolled into town around sunset. We had a couple of hours to go before we were scheduled to work the dance. Wayne looked up and down the main drag of Corona and saw a beer joint. “I’ve always wanted to have a Corona in Corona,” he said.

We walked into the one-roomed honky-tonk and had a seat in a booth at the back. Dim light illuminated a classic New Mexico roadhouse scene: Guys who were still dirty and gritty from a hard day’s work hunkered over their beers, guys leaning on their pool cues knocking balls around to a small audience around the billiard table, their legs propped up on chairs.  The bartender was behind the bar wiping things down with a white cloth.

Wayne was enjoying a Corona from the bottle, I was having a Coke.  Wayne and I were talking about stuff when his attention was diverted by two men at the bar, arguing in Spanish. Wayne stopped talking, his brow furrowed.  Now, I didn’t understand Spanish then, but the body language was enough for me and it said these guys weren’t pals.

Wayne understood Spanish. “It seems standing guy is mad because sitting guy is the new boyfriend of standing guy’s ex,” he said, leaning over the table and talking low.

I remember thinking how bizarre things get…you’re just kicking back minding your own business and trouble pops up.

Suddenly, from out of his pocket, standing man produced a li’l ol’ pistol.

Then the most amazing thing happened. No sooner had standing man pulled his “Saturday night special” than the guys playing pool slammed down their cues and grabbed him.  In the blink of an eye the bartender vaulted the bar and put himself between the two men.

It all happened quicker than a snap of the fingers, almost like these men had rehearsed it. These guys weren’t going to let some angry dude mess up their good time at their favorite beer joint. The pool players escorted standing man out the door. Sitting man returned to his beer.   Soon the pool players and the bartender came back in.  The guys returned to their pool table, the bartender went back to wiping things down with his white cloth.

“Well,” I said. “Wasn’t that something?”

Wayne arched his eyebrows and went back to enjoying his Corona in Corona.

Maybethat's the kind of thing that happens at a lot of beer joints, just like having a bottle thrown at you for playing the wrong song on the jukebox. But that’s another story.
                                                -30-