By John L. Sinclair
Cited in England and Scotland as a reluctant aristocrat, John L. Sinclair (1902-1993) spent sixty years in New Mexico as a cowboy, museum curator, and author. Sinclair bought off a educate in Clovis in 1923, observed saddle ponies and cowboys on the station, and knew that New Mexico was once where for him. He spent the remainder of the Nineteen Twenties cowboying round Roswell and within the Capitan Mountains, relocating to Santa Fe within the Thirties after he bought his first article to New Mexico journal. For ten funds a month he rented a home on Canyon street, the place he hobnobbed with artists and writers. After a stint as superintendent of the Coronado nation Monument close to Albuquerque, he and his spouse spent the remainder of their days within sight in a stone cabin with a view of the mountains. This memoir, written whilst the writer was once 90, captures his lonely early life and his savor the open areas and society of recent Mexico with mind-blowing readability. even supposing Sinclair loved dwelling like a hermit, he was once a sociable one who enjoyed to inform stories. His tale is a brilliant literary legacy. somebody with a yen for the West within the sturdy outdated days will enjoy it.
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Additional info for A cowboy writer in New Mexico: the memoirs of John L. Sinclair
My father had never told him about us. Page 7 The Sinclairs The Sinclairs, my ancestral family in Scotland, were northern Scots, with more Scandinavian blood in them than the Celtic Irish or the Highland Scots had. The clan descended from Norman knights who had come to Scotland in the Middle Ages. By the sixteenth century, they had reached the height of their power in Caithness, on the extreme northeastern tip of the Scottish mainland, and our family descended directly from the chief of the clan.
Cowell, who had taken care of the horses and the coach at Craig Ard, now became the chauffeur of the Rolls-Royce at Palace Court. My grandfather and uncle would eat breakfast early-they were finished by eight o'clock in the morningand then put on their top hats and sit in the Rolls-Royce while Cowell drove them to their offices on Silver Street. Grandfather also had a second home, a lodge called Dalreoch in the Scottish Highlands, not far from the little village of Enoch Dhu. This wasn't a log cabin; it was practically a mansion.
I was born December 6, 1902. We lived in Prospect Park West, a very exclusive part of Brooklyn close to the Bush Terminal and facing Prospect Park. It was a beautiful Page 2 John Leslie Sinclair, 1902. place, with stately houses and mansions. I can just remember my earliest days there. I can't remember going to school in New York. I don't think I did; I guess they didn't have the strict laws they do now. But I seemed to pick up things at an early age. Mother used to get me books to read, and she taught me arithmetic and other essentials.
A cowboy writer in New Mexico: the memoirs of John L. Sinclair by John L. Sinclair