By Dillard O. Duran

Cortez is not completely without pity as there are a few organizations and individuals who are willing to lend a helping hand. But in mid-October of 1998, the Cortez Sanitation District showed me no mercy.

At that time, I was doing my best to survive on a scant $280 per month, which was a service-connected disability pension sent to me by the Veterans Administration. Because I didn’t have the income to properly maintain my vehicle, it careened out of control on Highway 145 and slid into the curb on the opposite side of the road, thus totaling my pickup and leaving me on foot. Besides that, I was suffering from an infection of the lymph nodes which swelled the right side of my face.

I was having much difficulty paying the sanitation bill in spite of warnings I received, so in July 1998, we agreed on a deal that I pay $25 on the first day of each month until the bill was paid. Not knowing, at the time, that I could pay at City Market, I would walk to their office (on South Broadway) in spite of the discomfort from that hideous infection.

The payments went smoothly until the weather began to get cold. My gas heater quit working, so October’s payment went to a repairman. Two weeks later, I was able to pay the district the $25 owed, but, because it was late, they wanted an additional $99 which I didn’t have. I assured them they would have their money on Nov. 1. Feeling sick from the infection, I trudged home, only to find that a backhoe was sitting in the alley behind my house.

Shock and surprise at how quickly they set to work after I tried to negotiate with them overcame me. Then I was filled with pure, ugly rage. Thanks to a couple of lady friends of mine who kept me under control, I did nothing foolish. In the days that followed, the gloom of depression settled around me like a black shroud.

The Cortez Sanitation District claimed that, due to the expense of digging to the sewer line and removing the plug, restoration charges would be $500. They were willing to accept monthly payments of $100, which was impossible with my insufficient income. Every late payment meant an additional charge of $51.63. By the time all charges were added to my original bill, I owed $736.99. On Dec. 22, I contacted Legal Aid Services in Durango.

In every dark situation there are those who offer a little bit of sunshine. A neighbor, bless her heart, gave me permission to get water for drinking and washing dishes. I disconnected the drain pipes beneath the kitchen sink from the sewer line and ran them to a ditch I had dug, thus channeling the water to an apricot tree in my back yard. This left only one problem: keeping reasonably clean.

Shaving and washing my face in the morning was no problem. I had a plastic pan that served pretty well for that purpose. Bathing was my main concern. For a while, I locked myself in the bathroom at the county courthouse and washed off pretty good, being careful not to leave a mess, but after talking to the pastor of my church, I got permission to use his shower.

I remember one bleak December day when I walked to Wal-Mart for some badly needed supplies but did not have quite enough to pay for them. Therefore, I had to suffer the embarrassment of leaving them with the cashier. Returning home, I noticed a blue bag hanging from my doorknob. It was a Wal-Mart bag with the very stuff I had attempted to buy. To this day I do not know who left it there.

The swelling in my face grew larger throughout November and December. The VFW was kind enough to pay my bus fare to Albuquerque, N.M., on Dec. 30. I saw the doctor and was told that the infection had to be attended to immediately. It had advanced far enough that it was life-threatening. They were going to allow me to treat it at home, but I informed them that I had no running water. Therefore, I had to be admitted into the hospital for six weeks. During this time, I was unable to continue making payments.

On Feb. 12, 1999, I was discharged from the hospital with orders to follow up as an outpatient at the Farmington VA clinic for six months. Immediately after my release, I resumed my business with Legal Aid, which sent me an application to the Community Emergency Assistance Coalition in Durango. I completed the application and sent it back. In May 1999, the CEAC and the Salvation Army paid my outrageous sanitation bill. My sewer services were restored. I still feel that I owe these people, though they do not ask for reimbursement.

As a result of my water and sewage being cut off, some of my pipes were damaged and had to be repaired. The plumber who helped me was lenient enough to work with me on the bill.