Memories of Mr. Mundy

I first met Mr. Mundy in 1980 or 1981, introductions performed by Mr. Dan Rivera. I had met and had become acquainted with Mr. Rivera several years earlier and always made it a point to visit his establishment when in the area.

On this particular cold late Fall day, I had just finished field dressing and packing out a nice bull elk I had taken on the Sargent after a 3-day hunt. I was dirty, well-grizzled, and had dried blood up to the elbows of the insulated overalls I wore over the usual Wranglers, shirt, longjohns, boots, etc. The only incongruous item was the relatively pristine black and white ball cap with the New Mexico State Police logo over the bill that I had found in the ditch and inexplicably decided to plant on my head.

Let me explain that I was (and still am) the sort of guy that can fill up a door. At the time, I stood 6’5’, weighed about 240 lbs. and was 28-29 years old.

The bar was pretty full when I scrunched my way through the door and greeted Mr. Rivera. While I was placing my package order and fishing through my overalls for my wallet, everybody but Mr. Mundy and the proprietor just sort of stood up and angled out the door.

After the introductions, Mr. Mundy invited me to sit down and have a drink. Mr. Rivera poured and poured and I left 3 hours later, well-lubricated, having been regaled by all sorts of stories and being subjected to Mr. Rivera’s box of photographs of folks meeting one sort of violent demise or another. I will never forget that time and consider myself very privileged to have witnessed the bond between Mr. Mundy and Mr. Rivera.

It was only when I got up to leave that Mr. Mundy suggested that I reconsider my choice of headgear around those parts. I saw Mr. Rivera nodding in silent agreement, but didn’t fully realize what I had done until much later.

Over the next decades, whenever I encountered Mr. Mundy on my increasingly infrequent visits to Chama, he always made a point to call me by my name and shake my hand. I doubt it was because I was memorable. I am pretty well convinced that it was because I was introduced by his good friend Mr. Rivera and was the dumbass who ooched into Mr. Rivera’s establishment wearing a found cop hat.

Mr. Mundy was a profoundly good man and one of the last of his breed. Men like him were rare in his time and probably don’t exist today. Certainly, there are no more like him being born and bred.

--- Darrell Nance