This past weekend, I found myself on a train to California, heading toward a funeral to honor someone I loved. There’s something about train rides that gives you time to think, to watch the world blur past - lights in the dark – as you make sense of what you’re leaving behind and where you’re going.
Passing through familiar hills and valleys, I thought about how funerals, like train journeys, are supposed to be sacred pauses—a chance to slow down and come together, to remember and hold close.
But even as we gathered, I felt the world pressing in.
The room was filled with both grief and an unspoken tension, a reminder of how divided times cast shadows over even our most sacred moments. Breaking so much of the underlying politics, a clip of my cousin shouting, “I came with nothing, and I’ll leave with nothing!”
It made me wonder: Where are we heading, and what can we hold onto as we go?
As the train carried me forward, I thought about how, in Cibola, we share this same push and pull between past and future, between what we hold sacred and what change requires. Like the train, our community is moving forward, and we have big choices ahead.
We live in a place rich with history and resources, and I believe in Cibola’s potential to thrive.
I know that for some, the mention of uranium mining brings a hesitation— a pause in the conversation, like the heaviness I felt at that funeral. But if done responsibly, it’s something that could sustain our families and strengthen our community’s future, bringing opportunity without sacrificing the land we hold dear.
This election will help shape that vision, and I hope we can hold onto a sense of unity as we move toward it. Just as we remember those we’ve lost, it’s just as vital to think about those we’re building this future for—the families, the children, the generations that will call this place home. We owe it to them to be thoughtful and intentional, to choose a future that preserves the beauty and integrity of Cibola, while also embracing the opportunity and progress that can sustain us.
As the train pulls me closer to home, I can’t help but think about those precious moments I just spent with my family— holding them close, remembering the one we lost, knowing things will never be the same.
Loss has a way of reminding us what we hold dear and why we must stand together. It’s a reminder that, just as we gather to mourn, we must also come together to build.
This election, less than a week away, is the most important of our lifetime.
We’re choosing more than just leaders; we’re choosing the future of Cibola County. We’re choosing a majority for our Board of Commissioners, with the power to shape the path forward. And in this moment, your voice matters more than ever.
I love this country— just as I love my family and this community. We are more than neighbors; we’re bound together as brothers and sisters, by history, by place, and by purpose.
Whatever happens next, whatever changes come, we are still one family, one community, united by a shared hope for tomorrow.
Together, as the people of Cibola, as Americans, we will shape a future that honors both where we’ve been and where we dream of going. Because that’s what it means to be part of something greater than ourselves.
As I arrive home, I know each of us has a role to play in the future. Of our families. Of our communities. Of our country.
Your Vote is Your Voice, and Your Voice Matters!
Make it count on November 5. God Bless this beautiful country. God Bless this County.