I have it on high authority — unofficial family historian, my Aunt Linda — that there are none of our Romero’s in Romeroville, New Mexico…but wow, who even knew we had a whole town named after us? Not I. So, needless to say, as soon as we saw that big old exit sign, Ginger and I totally had to stop (literally on the side of freeway for the pic above!) to take some pictures.
And trust me, that didn’t take nearly long as we thought it would, as there wasn’t much to see in Romeroville. I mean, unless we missed the bustling city core completely, “my town” isn’t much more than a few rustic houses nestled up alongside the interstate just outside Las Vegas, NM.
But the proud Romero name was everywhere you looked. There was Camino Romero, Romero Court, and our name was even emblazoned on the train track warning sign thing. Crazy!
Crazier still was the fact that Ginger ordered me to stop in the middle of the train tracks so she could get that picture below.
I don’t think we were in danger in getting plowed in half — hell, who knows if the trains even still run through Romeroville these days — but yikes, what a headline that would have made! If, you know, they had a newspaper in town…
Anyway, not much else to write about Romeroville. I just thought it was cool that there was a town named after my people, even if it is little more than a grungy old frontage road alongside I25.