Luna's Jacal on the Old Maverick Road, April 6, 2006.

In 1947, at the age of 108, Gilberto Luna drew his last breath within the walls of his own Big Bend penthouse suite, an aged but sturdy jacal (prounounced hah-KAHL) he built himself with mud adobe, stones, dried lechiguilla and creosote - materials that were close at hand. In the distance, a spectacular view of Santa Elena Canyon rises above the desert floor, made more beautiful with each sunrise and sunset.

Farming near Alamo Creek, Gilberto Luna raised melons and beans...and children; 38 in all, born by six different successive wives. He made peace with the raiding indians, and the bright full Comanche Moon in the autumn night sky was not feared by the Luna family.

Some would say Gilberto was impoverished, uneducated. Perhaps so in the measurements of modern-day existence, but I doubt Gilberto would agree. He awoke to nature's grandeur each day; his ability to survive and flourish a testament not only of tenacious human will over immense obstacles, but also a tribute to intelligence and a special communication with the land.

I am humbled by Gilbert Luna.

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