This 'Old' House

Has anybody here seen my head?

One of the more unusual tourist attractions in Santa Fe is a place called “The Oldest House.” Located over on De Vargas Street, the structure supposedly dates back to 1646. It’s the oldest house in the US, unless it isn’t.

Not everyone buys the Oldest House claim. Remember, this is Santa Fe, where two different buildings downtown have bronze plaques boasting they are on the site where Billy the Kid was jailed.

We are not above stretching the truth a bit for the tourists. We don't even mind spinning a yarn about a Spanish soldier whose head was chopped off by witches in the Oldest House, but more on that later.

The reason I stress that this is a tourist attraction is, just try finding an actual Santa Fean who has ever been there. I dropped by recently to research this column, and the nice woman in the gift shop asked where I was from. When I said Santa Fe, she fell out of her chair. "Wow, we don't get many of you in here!" she said.

The Oldest House has its own bronze plaque, which offers the first hint that the claim may not exactly be gospel. The historical marker calls it the "OLDEST" HOUSE. Seriously. Those quotation marks are not very reassuring.

It's like texting your girlfriend, "Honey," you're so "beautiful." I really "love" you. If she's not an idiot, she'll change her phone number immediately.

The always entertaining Encyclopedia of Santa Fe by Mark H Cross, devotes only about 40 words to the "Oldest House in America," calling it "clearly an exaggeration." Hell, Mark doesn't mention the beheading at all.

One reason folks have been willing to believe the "Oldest House" claim is that the place is right across the street from the San Miguel Mission, a church that actually was built in the early 1600s.

If you know the area, you can sort of guess how the house might have gotten built where it is.

"Pedro! When are you going to build us that new house you promised? It's already 1646, you lazy wanker!"

"I'm on it, Maria. I have my eye on a nice piece of property over on De Vargas, right next door to where that great pizza place is eventually going to be."

"Is it going be like the last house you built, that collapsed in six weeks?"

"No, honey, you can come back in 100 years, this one will still be here!"

"Pedro, Pedro, Pedro. A hundred years? Why are you such a lying asshat?"

"But baby, this time, I swear!"

Here's where I'm going with this (and I know it took me long enough to get here). When you visit the house, they give you this leaflet telling the story of Juan Espinosa, a young soldier who fell in love with a beautiful woman but was spurned by her. So Juan visited the Oldest House, which of course wasn't called the Oldest House yet, to buy a love potion from two witches who lived there.

Long story short, the potion didn't work, because, you know, duh! Juan returned to demand his money back, tripped and dropped his sword, and the witches cut off his head with it. To this day, he wanders up and down the street, stuffing Upper Crust sausage calzones down his neck hole and looking for his missing head.

I know, I know, there seems to be some problems with that story, like how does he look for his head if he doesn't have eyes anymore? But I thought it would be rude to question their little tale while I was standing in the Oldest House in America. Or not.

Robert Basler’s humor column runs twice monthly in SFR. Email the author: bluecorn@sfreporter.com


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