What do Mexicans think about President Bush's grandfather having a hand in getting the guy that robbed Pancho Villa's head out of jail?
Kruising Klassily in Kennebunkport
Battle of the Piney Woods: SFA vs. SHSU
TicketsSat., Oct. 1, 3:00pm
University of Houston Cougars Football vs. Tulsa Golden Hurricane Football
TicketsSat., Oct. 15, 11:00am
Rice University Owls Football vs. UTSA Roadrunners Football
TicketsSat., Oct. 15, 6:00pm
Rice University Owls Football vs. Prairie View A&M University Football
TicketsSat., Oct. 22, 2:30pm
Ah, Villa's stolen skull. No macabre Mexican legend is more mired in intrigue, distortions and looniness -- and in a country where many believe the United States stole half of its land, that's saying something. Here are the accepted facts about Pancho's purloined pate: On February 6, 1926, someone raided Villa's tomb in Parral, Chihuahua, and scurried away with the famed general's three-years-dead head. Mexican authorities quickly arrested Emil Holmdahl, a gabacho mercenary who fought for various factions during the Mexican Revolution and had been seen around Villa's tomb. Holmdahl denied any responsibility, and the Mexican authorities released him for lack of evidence. Nevertheless, stories of Holmdahl boasting about his crime soon spread on both sides of la frontera.
Flash forward to the mid-1980s. In 1984, Arizona rancher Ben F. Williams declared in his memoir Let the Tail Go with the Hide that Holmdahl not only admitted to stealing Villa's skull but that he received $25,000 for the deed. Williams shared this information with a friend who belonged to the Order of Skull and Bones, the Yale secret society that counts three generations of the Bush dynasty as members. After Williams published his book, Skull and Bones members (amongst them Jonathan Bush, Dubya's uncle) met with some Apaches and offered them a skull. Tribal leaders had recently discovered an official Skull and Bones log claiming that Dubya's granddaddy Prescott Bush and other Bonesmen stole the skull of Geronimo from his burial grounds in 1918.
Still with me? Gracias. Now, refry this: Around the time George H.W. Bush ran for the presidency in 1988, someone merged the details of the Villa and Geronimo grave robberies, noted the Skull and Bones connection and concocted a fable in which Prescott Bush helps Holmdahl dodge the federales, buys Villa's skull and displays it alongside Geronimo's noggin at the Bonesmen's headquarters. Coupled with Prescott's Nazi ties and George's CIA past, the Bush-Villa conspiracy served as further proof to critics that the Bushes are the First Family of the New World Order (and Dubya's reign has done nothing to indicate otherwise).
Problem is, the Bush-Villa conspiracy is as flimsy as a swap-meet T-shirt. For one, Williams's 1984 memoir was the first time anyone had publicly tried to connect the Skull and Bones with Villa's remains, and the book never mentioned Prescott Bush. Braddy's essay mentioned that Holmdahl himself reportedly told friends that scientists in Chicago paid him $5,000 for the cabeza. Not only that, but all serious scholarship on the matter is skeptical. While Alexandra Robbins wrote in her 2002 Skull and Bones expos Secrets of the Tomb: Skull and Bones, The Ivy League, and the Hidden Paths of Power that the organization possessed Villa's skull, she retracted the claim in a 2004 interview with The Yale Herald.
So why does this legend persist? Simple: It's a myth where everyone wins. Mexicans get to cry about Yankees desecrating their heroes, gabachos can crow about pulling a fast one on the Mexicans and everyone gets to fret anew about the creepy Bush family. A shared belief in the Villa-Bush conspiracy is one of the few things that unite Mexicans and gabachos -- and if believing in a stupid conspiracy is what it takes to get the two groups together, then count me a Bonesman.
Get the This Week's Top Stories Newsletter
Every week we collect the latest news, music and arts stories — along with film and food reviews and the best things to do this week — so that you'll never miss Houston Press' biggest stories.