In the late 40's and early 50's our constable was an elected official. Perhaps it was
due to this fact that "Cactus Joe" Holland served the communities of Yermo,
Daggett and Newberry with a large dose of diplomacy and tact along with his unquestionable
skill and authority.
Being an elected lawman has got to be the epitome of a balancing act, but Cactus Joe
made it look easy. I believe that was due to a genuine concern and compassion for the
people he served. His methods would be considered unorthodox in today's world, but they
usually were very effective then.
Some examples of Joes' methods come to mind. One of them took place at a dance at The
Barn. I'm talking about the original Barn that was in the large green building that still
stands on the West side of Mountain View just North of the Santa Fe tracks in Newberry
Springs.
The dance was well underway when Cactus Joe drove up in his big Hudson. He had no
sooner come through the door when there was a screeching of brakes from outside followed
by the mournful yelping of a dog. Joe went to the door, turned around with hands raised
palms out and announced. "You all continue on with your party, I'll take care of
it."
A couple of minutes later Joe came in, looked around, then came straight over to me
were I was sitting talking with some other teens. He bent down and whispered in my ear,
"Could you come outside and give me a hand?"
Outside he explained that the large stray dogs' back was broken and needed to be taken
out in the desert, put out of his misery and buried. He needed help getting the dog in his
car. I got an old blanket and a shovel out of our Packard. We placed the blanket over the
dog, rolled him onto it and gently placed the dog along with the shovel on the floor of
Joes' back seat. I was turning to go back to the dance when Joe said "I'm gonna need
your help to get the dog out of my car and carry it into the desert. We drove about a mile
North West of the Barn and carried the dog and shovel into the desert. Removing his big
.44, Joe said "You dig the hole, I'll take care of the dog." The hole was
completed, when I turned to see Joe still standing there, tears in his eyes, with his gun
pointed at the suffering dogs head. He then straightened, handed the gun to me, turned and
started walking towards the Hudson. He called over his shoulder "Thanks, I'll meet
you at the car, give me a few minutes."
Editor's Note: The following appeared as a separate article - I have included it here
for convenience.
EVEN MORE LAW AND ORDER CACTUS JOE STYLE
Back in the mid 50's my typical spring school day was probably not much different then
than it is now for a Newberry Springs High School student. Up way before the sun, do your
chores, get ready for school, eat a quick breakfast, then shuffle on down the road to
catch the school bus.
In the spring this often required leaning far forward into a sand and gravel hurling
head wind. I could pull my jacket collar up and walk backwards for that mile, but being
late for the bus would surely spark the wrath of our bus driver Bill Moses.
My dog Tuffy would usually accompany me to the bus each morning then run parallel to
the bus out in the desert for a couple of hundred yards as we departed. Bill would adjust
his speed to stay even with Tuffy then check his speedometer. Every morning he would
comment about that dog, things like, "Look at that, 37 miles per hour today, gotta be
the fastest dog in Newberry." I was usually the first on the bus and we would travel
62 miles over washboard roads picking up Jr. & Sr. High schoolers before being
deposited at the Cliff House (Newberry General store, gas station, post office, swimming
pool and beer joint.) There we would board the bus that originated in Ludlow for the last
22 mile leg into Barstow.
Spring meant swimming team practice after school. (I think we Newberry boys accounted
for close to 50% of the Barstow High School swimming team.) Of course if you had any after
school activity, you would not be able to ride the school bus home. Sowe would hang around
town, get a hamburger at The Chili Bowl, play some pool and take in the first feature at
the show before paying our 53 cents and boarding the Greyhound back to the Cliff House.
Our big problem was double features, The best of the two was always shown last.
Consequently we would often miss the 8:50 Greyhound.
We would then set off walking east through town. We would make a stop at the Beacon
Coffee Shop at the end of town and many times hitch a ride with one of the Claypool trucks
headed back to Needles. If no luck there, we would continue walking east, thumbs out at
each set of headlights.
As I remember, it was one such night that Benny (Fritzy) Morgan and I had walked almost
all the way to Daggett, we were tired and foot sore. It must have been around midnight
when a car coming from the East passed us, made a "U", came back and stopped. It
was Cactus Joe in his bronze Hudson. He had been sitting having a late cup of coffee at
Kelly's Cafe in Daggett when he overheard someone say there were a couple of hitchhiking
teenage boys eastbound on Hwy. 66 just west of town.
In those days we didn't have the luxury of personal telephones. So Joe took us
home with him. His wife put us to bed on their screened porch bunks. The next morning she
got us up, gave us breakfast, packed us each a lunch and with a stern reprimand about
punctuality and responsibility put us on the Yermo school bus back to Barstow.
I don't know what reaction Fritzy got from his folks, but I do remember my dad
complaining about a stiff neck from having to sleep in the truck all night at the Cliff
House waiting for me to show up. Oh yes, I also seem to remember having to clean out the
pig pens, watering troughs and dig a new septic tank hole for my aunt before I was allowed
to swim again at the Cliff House pool.
Cactus Joe was not always orthodox in his methods, but you gotta admit he was very
effective.
Copyright 1995, William E. Smith, All Rights Reserved
Newberry Springs Chamber of Commerce
P.O. Box 116
Newberry Springs, CA 92365
Phone: (760) 257-1072
