By Andrea Vasquez
To be loved is to be seen, and for Gladys Hinds, love abounds in her life, especially in the form of watchful neighbors.
At the remarkable age of 94 (soon to be 95), Gladys is “sharp like the end of a tack,” as her neighbor Treva West explains.
If you visit her Albuquerque home, you might be greeted by one of her attentive neighbors—Kris, Cindy or Treva—who ensure she is adequately taken care of daily. Hinds keeps herself busy with crafts, cooking and anything else she can get her hands on.
Hinds, who was born Ethel Gladys Madole, has weaved and cultivated this sense of community throughout her life, with deep roots in her upbringing in Edgewood.
As Hinds shares, her father would light a cigarette and a fire to tell stories, and she decided to do the same for The Independent, in her own unique way minus the nicotine and lumber.
The Madole family traveled from Wichita, Kan., to the American West in the 1920s. After traveling for months in covered wagons, they became homesteaders. Her father migrated with his family to the rugged terrain of Edgewood, which was then known as Venus, as a child.
The family traveled by horse and buggy, and along with the other two families, it took them months to complete the journey.
The Madole family, along with the Hills, Hortons and many others, migrated to the Southwest to take advantage of the Homestead Acts.
These laws, enacted by the U.S. government, were designed to encourage westward expansion and settlement.
Upon arrival, they faced the harsh reality of building a life from the ground up.
During the family’s early years in Edgewood, they quickly realized they needed to create a shelter. The family opted to dig a dirt hole on what is now Meadow Road, which they would call home for several years despite lacking basic amenities like doors, windows or a stove.
“He didn’t seem to mind it,” Hinds recalls of her father. “We didn’t know any different.”
Her father, a skilled mechanic, worked in a small shop in Edgewood to support the family, while her mother, a seamstress, made all of their clothes.
They raised cattle for milk and meat and relied on a garden for vegetables like corn and beets. Her mother ensured to promote resourcefulness, but hardships occurred more often than she would like to remember.
Hinds shares one catastrophic event where the government eradicated most of their cattle to “stabilize meat prices.” This left the Madole family with just enough meat to get by.
Navigating such situations was the key to Hinds and her family’s survival. Through their hardships together, they formed a strong bond and spirit that led them to make the best of every situation.
She also described other aspects of the family home, such as an outhouse and a smokehouse where her father would listen to his favorite radio show, Amos ‘n’ Andy.
But Hinds also remembered something that she explained could be impossible for her to forget: her mother’s sacrifices, ensuring she and her siblings were well fed even if it meant going to bed hungry herself.
Hinds’ recollection certainly includes joyful moments, but it came with ups and downs.
As a 6-year-old, she recounts walking up to two miles daily to a one-room schoolhouse that housed eight classes simultaneously.
Getting to school was not easy at all. Her journey involved crossing fields and navigating a pecan fence, which took nearly two hours back and forth.
This trip also made her mother immensely anxious as she watched from the window until her kids disappeared into the distance.
Christmas was another of those instances of making the most out of the occasion.
“Mother would say, ‘Save $20 and spend $5 on each one of us.’ And we always knew we were going to have a Christmas,” Hinds reminisces.
Her mother also made sure she and her siblings were well-dressed. According to Hinds, her mother used to sew clothes from flour sacks and build furniture from wood scraps.
These situations were not exclusive to the Madole family. This encouraged everyone around Edgewood at the time to foster a strong and sincere sense of community to survive any hardships that would come their way.
Community events like pie suppers and ice cream socials brought neighbors together and created the ties necessary to create the best possible environment for children to be raised in.
Although Hinds understandably longs for her siblings and parents, who have all passed away, she is grateful to be the last surviving member of her nuclear family and to be surrounded by immense love from her grandchildren and the community she’s cultivated in her neighborhood and church.
She deeply treasures her memories of the town that watched her grow. Her glimpse into Edgewood’s history illustrates the hard work of so many people who have put everything on the line to make Edgewood what it is today.
Edgewood is a place she will forever call home, where she found beauty in resilience and confirmed how the most simple things in life can bring the most joy.
It wasn’t the “Hinds” family that homesteaded to Venus, NM (Edgewood), it was the Madole family. My Aunt Gladys (misspelled in the article) married and her last name became Hinds. She was born Ethel Gladys Madole. Just wanted to make this clear. I’m very proud of my heritage & want Madole name remembered correctly in Edgewood’s history. My mother was a Madole. Thelma Allene Madole.