Pecos became a regional supply hub after oil was discovered in the Permian Basin in 1920, and like that of many West Texas towns, its population rose and fell over the years in rhythm with the price of crude. Founded as a cattle-drive camp in the late nineteenth century, the city hosts an annual rodeo that claims to be the world’s oldest, with roots dating back to 1883. Pecos occupies a flat expanse of arid brushland on the northeastern edge of the Chihuahuan Desert in remote West Texas, not far from the New Mexico border. Others chipped in to buy a simple headstone, which identified her as “Unknown Girl, Drowned.” A local clothing store supplied a blue polka-dot dress. The funeral director donated a handsome wooden casket. Many Pecos residents were similarly touched by the tragedy. Still, those heartbroken parents were so struck by the young woman’s resemblance to their daughter that they established the “Drowned Girl Trust Fund” to help pay for her funeral. One couple from Odessa was certain they had found their child until the dental records failed to match. Some of them traveled to Pecos to view the body. Stories about the mysterious drowning appeared in newspapers across the country, prompting families from as far away as Kentucky and Illinois to write to the funeral home out of concern that the deceased might be a missing relation. “The only thing we know that did wrong was leave without paying his motel bill,” he later told a reporter.Īfter the autopsy, the woman’s body was sent to the Pecos Funeral Home, where it was embalmed and kept in a back parlor for several weeks in the expectation that someone would turn up to identify it.
Nail never opened a homicide investigation. Absent evidence of foul play, the death was ruled an accidental drowning. There was a red, quarter-size abrasion above the woman’s left cheekbone, but it wasn’t determined whether that injury occurred before she died or as her body was dragged from the pool. Reeves County was too small to have its own medical examiner, so an Odessa pathologist performed the autopsy. Once she handed it over, he got into a dark-colored sedan and drove away.
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Before heading there, Russell asked Moore for his registration card, explaining that he needed it to identify himself to police. By the time he reached the pool, his wife was on her way to nearby Reeves County Memorial Hospital. Another motel employee went to the Battuons’ room and found Russell apparently taking a nap. Photograph by John DavidsonĪs an ambulance was summoned, Moore performed CPR. Together they managed to pull the woman up and out of the pool. She twice failed to bring the body to the surface before a motel guest, drawn by the commotion, jumped in to help.
No one else was around, so Moore plunged in fully clothed. A woman was lying facedown at the bottom of the deep end, about twelve feet underwater. The maid led Moore to the pool, where she too was seized with alarm. She waited tables at the cafe, cleaned rooms, and worked the registration desk.Ībout three hours after she first saw the Battuons, Moore was in the motel office when a distraught maid rushed in and struggled to make herself understood in broken English. Moore, a dirty-blond fifteen-year-old from Clovis, New Mexico, was spending the summer at the motel, which her grandparents managed. The single-story motor court on Highway 80, just outside the hardscrabble West Texas town of Pecos, had a Spanish tile roof, a flashy neon sign, and a steady clientele of oil-field workers and long-haul truckers. They had checked in earlier that afternoon-July 5, 1966-scrawling their names on a registration card as Mr. The slim man sported a blond crew cut and seemed about ten years older than his companion.
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Her full lips and olive skin, set off by a red one-piece bathing suit, gave her a slightly Mediterranean look. The husband was drinking beer, the wife sipping soda. Sandy Moore spotted them lounging in plastic chairs by the Ropers Motel pool.