November 28, 2011
This New Year’s Eve, the Black Tie and Blue Jeans Ball kicks off with fabulous dance bands, delicious food, and several well=known psychics who are ready to read YOUR life, your future.
Meet Lupe Trujillo
“I come from a family of Curanderos. I grew up with Tarot Cards on the table, herbs constantly brewing on the stove and a chapel in the basement. I grew up thinking this was “normal”. Hence, I am a lifelong practitioner of Curanderismo. Having accepted my birthright and being raised in a “psychic” setting, I started reading Tarot Cards, candles and eggs at a very young age. I began reading professionally at age 16 – that was 30 years ago. I am clairvoyant, clairaudient and clairsentient. I have studied Tibetan Buddhist Philosophy for 34 years. I have had a successful therapeutic practice since 1995 that includes Psychic Readings, spiritual advising and seminars. My areas of specialty include holistic self-care heath and wellness advisement, Love and Relationships. I study World Religions. I have a license in Massage Therapy with certifications in weight training and nutrition, Windows of the Sky Chinese Medicine and aromatherapy.”
Meet Sun-Day Martinez
Sun-Day is a registered nurse, and has been practicing palm reading and hypnotherapy for 40 years. She is an astrologist, psychic healer, and spiritual healer. She has lived in Las Vegas for 32 years and is currently writing an autobiography.
September 27, 2011
Is there anywhere in town to get a great latté?
Staying at the Historic Plaza Hotel and want to spend a little time people watching while having a hot cuppa?
Flying in? Need a lift to the Historic Plaza Hotel? Call the Front Desk at 505-425-3591 and ask us to give you a hand!
Even tiny Las Vegas, New Mexico has an airport, one that was once famous when Charles Lindbergh took to the skies! Read about his visit to our Tiny Vegas:
Field of Dreams
80 years ago this month, a young man sat on the edge of dusty forever. His airplane’s wheels dug into dry prairie. He didn’t know the grass would soon lift from the earth and rage across the Great Plains in the clouds of fury and death that marked the Dust Bowl. You can see this man against an interior wall in the Las Vegas Railway Depot, his handsome face covered in aviator’s goggles, encased in framed glass. Two men stand behind the fuselage. They hug one another, dark intertwined shadows against the drought-scarred land.
The Las Vegas Chamber of Commerce leased the parcel beneath this plane one year before, plunked down earnest money for a 40-acre pasture. They drove out herds of thin cattle, a small handful of poor squatters, and declared the parched earth an airfield.
A local booster club gathered their men, carried buckets of thick white paint and heavy boar’s hair brushes to the pasture. They followed Herbert Hoover’s strict orders to label their space, painted “Las Vegas” on the hills, a careful circle around the airfield, on the evaporated land so that future aircraft would know they would be welcomed with home-cooked meals, a stuffed cotton bed.
The paint dried quickly in the New Mexican sun. The men looked at their creation and added an arrow so that wayward pilots could find the landing strip, even though one was not yet smoothed into the crusty surface.
The residents of Las Vegas patted each other on the back. Not many cities in the Southwest sported an official runway, a place of potential international commerce. Men visited the spot, sometimes taking wives sporting reed-woven picnic baskets filled with green chile stew and tortillas. No planes touched down, not then, not yet, but the city people knew it would soon happen. They added gates at both ends of the field for fuel trucks, and a tall wind sock made of tight white canvas.
The budding airfield caught the eye of Transcontinental Air Transport. TAT sent a courier to northeast New Mexico with an important letter. Las Vegas may
be one of our official stops, the letter read. Your town may be famous, a place where weary travelers stop on coast-to-coast journeys. We’re sending our president, the letter continued. Expect a visit from Charles Lindbergh on October 23rd.
Thousands of Las Vegans packed the airfield. Children carried tiny American flags sewn onto rigid sticks. Women wore their Sunday best and gently pressed fancy combs of glazed horn into their hair. The sun shot patterns of long-legged men across the soil as the people held handkerchiefs to their noses. A deafening cheer broke the wind’s howl when Lindbergh landed in a black plume of exhaust.
This moment echoes forever in the Depot’s waiting room. The hugging men speak for Las Vegas, for a future not yet realized, not yet understood, a future desperately wanted. The TAT didn’t share that hug. They choose Clovis as their official stop. Las Vegas didn’t stop leaning into the prairie wind. The City caught Lindbergh’s passion for flight, and eleven years later – after depression, after a decade of sifting dust – opened the airfield to regular traffic.
The first major construction at the Las Vegas Municipal Airport began on April 1, 1941 under the supervision of the Army Corp of Engineers, and in the summer of 1942, city officials opened the field with a solemn celebration intended to echo the gravitas of war. The first airport facilities included a communications station, a rotating beacon, a small brick building for Continental Air Lines, and a hangar for New Mexico Highlands University.
During World War II, the Navy used our airfield for pilot training. New Mexico Highlands University sent students to its hangar – then a classroom and workshop – training aircraft mechanics for defense work. After the war, the aircraft mechanics program branched out, with the university offering a two-year airport operators’ course until government support for the program ended after the Korean War.
Today the Las Vegas Municipal Airport consists of two asphalt paved runways, with an average of 13 airplanes served per day during summer’s warm vacations and six per day in the depths of winter.
Lindbergh never visited Las Vegas again. But somehow he still lives here, on the edge of the grasslands, just behind the train tracks, on a quiet wall only travelers see. His face is hidden in shadowbox glare, and his adventurous spirit radiates, flies past the perceptual boundaries of time and space, lands in the hearts of all Las Vegas’ people.
September 17, 2011
Las Vegas National Wildlife Refuge to open the back roads on Sundays in November. Ever wonder what half a million snow geese get up to when they get together each Autumn? This November, you have a good chance of finding out.
The Las Vegas National Wildlife Refuge invites you to get up close and personal with your favorite migratory feathered friends with their November Sundays Wildlife Drive. No, it’s not a fundraiser. Roads that are usually closed throughout the year will be open those first four Sundays from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. so you can sneak up on that pair of Sandhill Cranes while they do their little love dances.
This is a four-week celebration of everything bird and beast, and the Wildlife Refuge center will host two interpretive talks each Sunday, the first at 12 p.m., the second at 1:30.
Book your room today! Call 505-425-3591!
September 3, 2011
We’ve been busy!
Welcome to our new website! We’re inviting you to roam around our new digs and get to know the Historic Plaza Hotel a little bit better. Please feel free to add a comment to our blog, or submit a testimonial of your own!
Let us know how we can better serve you, or if we can answer any of your questions.
We look forward to spending the night with you!
The Historic Plaza Hotel