Fifty miles short of Truth and Consequences

Now moving north on Interstate 25, I consider driving up to Truth and Consequences before heading for Silver City. I have no good reason to do so. Indeed, it will take me out of my way, but everywhere on this trip is ‘out of my way’, which is, after all, the sole purpose of my being here: to go to places that I have no reason to be in, to pursue each whim and fancy as it occurs to me. And so it is; the only reason I wish to go to Truth and Consequence is that I like the name, nothing more than that. But if it wasn’t for an NBC television and radio producer called Ralph Edwards, this small New Mexican town would be known by the name of Hot Springs and I’d be driving west, not north.

The town’s original name provided a clue to its main source of income; tourists seeking the healing properties of the naturally heated mineral baths to be found in the area. But it had not been fully developed as a recreational resort, its potential somewhat lost among the hundreds of other ‘Hot Springs’ to be found all over the United States.

Then in 1950, Ralph Edwards, on the 10th anniversary of the Truth or Consequences radio programme, called his staff together and said, "I wish that some town in the United States liked and respected our show so much that it would like to change it's name to ‘Truth or Consequences’". On hearing the proposition, the New Mexico State Tourist Bureau relayed the news to the manager of the Hot Springs Chamber of Commerce and the news spread like a prairie fire. Here was an opportunity to advertise the city and it's resources free of charge. Better still, no longer was this town to be confused with that ‘other one’ in Arkansas and the others throughout the nation (California alone has more than 30 towns called Hot Springs).

So, in a special city election, 1,294 of the town's residents voted for the change to Truth or Consequences. But, 295 area residents opposed the change and a protest was filed, so the city returned to the polls and again voted - by a margin greater than four to one - to go ahead with the name change.

Almost 14 years later, in January 1964, the question went to the people again and they voted to keep the city's unique name. A fourth election was held on August 18, 1967, and once more a majority voted to keep the name Truth or Consequences.

By the time I reach Las Cruces there is the first sign of a change in the weather. The sky up ahead is beginning to fill with cloud, the kind that is thrown up thousands of feet, forming towering castles in the air. I take an exit off the freeway and come to a halt on a patch of gravel close to where the road crosses a railroad track. There is a small church on the other side of the crossing, with two Mediterranean Cyprus’s grown to identical heights either side of the brick-built porch. The sun, not yet covered by cloud, is lighting up the mountains on the horizon in detailed relief, the air coming through my open window clear and clean, with the smell of rain on it.

My hands on the steering wheel, I push back, stretching my aching limbs, my eyes closed in a rush of weariness. I reach for the DeLorme State Atlas on the passenger seat, already open to the correct page. With the prospect of a gathering storm, I decide to skip Truth or Consequences and find a route that will take me cross country toward Silver City - with a hot shower, some food and the promise of rest. But before I start the engine, there is a photograph to be taken; a picture of the moment to use as future evidence that I am here, fifty miles short of Truth and Consequences, a town that, like me, had changed its name to bring about a new beginning.