The
Passing
of
A. Kelly
Pruitt
by David Crum
This photo of A. Kelly Pruitt was taken by an unknown friend and given to Kelly who
kept it in his home. The photo of the photo was taken by David Crum.
A.
Kelly Pruitt, renowned
Western painter and sculptor,
became a cowboy early in his
life and by age 12 was catching wild
mustangs in the Fresno Canyon area of
the Big Bend. He helped bring trail
herds from Mexico across the Rio
Grande at Presidio and worked on
ranches in several states. Kelly’s paint-
ings and bronzes are much prized on
both sides of the border, and he
touched people’s lives with his philoso-
phy of living simply, his kindness and
unique spirit.
A few weeks before his death, Kelly
had begun digging his own grave at the
old cemetery located near where he
lived with two dogs, a Mexican wolf, two
horses, a burro and 35 sheep. Kelly had
bought an old school bus, and it was his
8
home at La Junta Farm, owned by the
Bishop family of Presidio and Marfa.
This spot near the Rio Grande was
important to Kelly. He had returned to
live here several years ago, first only dur-
ing fall and winter but this past spring
had chosen to stay all year. As a young
boy, he would ride here from Presidio to
watch vaqueros work cattle, hoping to
learn their trade. Noticing Kelly’s inter-
est, the vaqueros taught him their skills,
first teaching him how to rope. The his-
tory of this spot near La Junta de los
Rios, where the Rio Conchos and Rio
Grande join, was well known to Kelly,
and he talked of how the Spanish had
buried Indian slaves in the cemetery fac-
ing south instead of east because they
were not Christian and of Confederate
soldiers killed here.
Cenizo
Second Quarter 2013
Kelly missed the large cottonwood
trees he had known here as a boy, cut
down years ago so airplanes could dust
crops, and he was interested in develop-
ing uses for the tumbleweeds and salt
cedar trees that are invading the no-
longer-used farmlands.
Kelly remembered the Rio Grande
used to be closer, and he was disappoint-
ed that the levee prevented him from
riding his horse down to the river and
maybe crossing it again.
In February 2009, Kelly invited a
group of his friends to camp with him at
La Junta Farm to discuss his vision of
creating a non-profit organization
whose mission would combine art, histo-
ry, conservation, sustainable building
and sustainable agriculture. The first of
these friends to arrive found Kelly
unable to rise from his outdoor cot near
the old school bus.
He told them he was dying. “I was
fixing one of Samson’s shoes and fell
over. Once I got up I could make it only
this far. My arm hurts and my heart.
There’s nothing like dying. I know the
Great Spirit has made such a magic
world. Little old Pawnee would like to
know when I die here, but wait until the
dust settles.”
Kelly refused to even consider going
to see a doctor or of letting one come to
him. “I have not been to a doctor since
1947, and if I go now they will want to
cut me open. I do not want that.”
Kelly asked his long-time friend
Terry Bishop to take care of the animals
and dispose of his belongings. “I want to
be buried here in the old cemetery, in