Sonora -- Magdalena - A Town Of Presidents And Saints

MAGDALENA, Mexico - This isa dusty little stretch of a town, 50 miles south of the Mexican border on Route 15 in the warm, windy state of Sonora.

The town of Magdalena has a genuine feel of Old Mexico - low houses, high sidewalks, storefronts of adobe brick, streets of dirt where dogs and chickens have the right of way.

Most of the people who go to Magdalena are going somewhere else. I was going somewhere else.

I was driving from the border town of Nogales to the old fishing port of Guaymas on the Sea of Cortez and stopped at Magdalena for breakfast - strong black coffee, eggs, frijoles and wraps of warm flour tortillas.

If Alma Guadalupe Sortillon, the waitress at the O.K. Cafe, is busy when you try to get her attention, she'll give you a pert "just-a-minute" sign with her thumb and forefinger, as though measuring the width of a butterfly's wing. But she wasn't busy that day. I was her only customer.

Outside, the town hadn't yet awakened. An old Ford pickup truck drove down the street, scattering the chickens and raising a cloud of dust.

Colosio and Kino

Posters and pictures of Luis Donaldo-Colosio are everywhere, some still graced with clusters of paper flowers and white memorial candles. Colosio was from Magdalena. He was assassinated in Tijuana earlier this year after being selected to succeed President Carlos Salinas de Gortari in Mexico's recent election.

It was in Magdalena's three-century-old town plaza in 1966 that archaeologists working with crumbling parchment and specialized instruments discovered the grave of Eusebio Francisco Kino. He was the Jesuit priest who brought Christianity and European farming methods to the Indians of Mexico and the American Southwest, augmenting their crops of beans, squash and maize with nourishing new grains, fruits and vegetables.

In less than 25 years, he built two dozen missions ranging from the Sea of Cortez to the Gila River in Arizona, established 19 ranches and made more than 50 major expeditions to gather materials and maps for reports to Europe.

In 1981, the Mexican government allocated funds for the construction of a colonial-style civic plaza around his grave. The site, covered by transparent glass panels, lies exposed, exactly as it was found.

Near the priest's skeletal remains is a leather-bound Bible. The dome-shaped visiting area is curved in such a way that even a simple whisper is amplified and carried across the plaza. For all its simplicity, and for all the bright sunlight, the Kino shrine has the strength and feel of an ancient holy sanctuary.

Also on the plaza is the 19th-century church of St. Mary Magdalene that was built to replace the church constructed on the site by Father Kino in 1711.

On Oct. 4, the holy day of St. Francis Xavier, Magdelana becomes the scene of great celebration. Thousands of people come from the nearby towns and villages to seek spiritual blessings.

Indian dancers, mariachis, parades, balloons and fireworks are all part of the celebration. (Oct. 4 is actually the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi, but somehow over the years the dates got switched in Magdalena. The holy day of Xavier, a Jesuit missionary who died in the Orient, is really Dec. 3.)

Preparations for the event begin weeks in advance, as both the anticipation and displays of devotion mount in intensity. Many of the pious cross the plaza on their knees.

Contented isolation

Magdalena is otherwise relatively untouched by tourism, and people who live there hope it stays that way.

"I hope the tourists never find us," said one. (A newly completed four-lane divided highway connecting Nogales and Hermosillo, bypassing Magdalena, helps make that isolation a reality.)

The state of Sonora has long been renowned for cattle ranching and the production of leather.

It also boasts of having produced four presidents - Adolfo de la Huerta, Alvaro Obregon, Plutarco Elias Calles and Abelardo L. Rodriquez. Their statues line the main street in Hermosillo, the state capital. Colosio, had he survived to be elected, would have been the fifth.

One little candle

As I drove out of town my car stalled - someone had siphoned off the gasoline. A young boy showed up about 20 minutes later, carrying a plastic jug filled with gasoline. Something of a miracle in itself, he asked if I might like to have it.

We negotiated a price. I paid him, mussed his mop of hair and went ued on down the highway to Guaymas. Ron Butler is a freelance writer who lives in Tucson, Ariz.