The Man Behind The Legend

The year was 1975 as the rusty blue Ford pickup rolled through the winding roads of the Texas Hill Country. At the wheel was a handsome man with wild hair and a beard to match. His steel gray eyes pierced the darkness ahead. His young teenage bride and their beautiful three month old daughter sat next to him on the single black and tattered leather seat. Their daughter was swaddled tightly in her warm quilt her momma had made for her. The cherub baby lulled by the bends in the road, slowly rolled back and forth on the seat, placed safely in the middle of her momma and poppa. There was no heater. There were no seat belts. A single radio station played classic old country music. Willie, Waylon & The Boys. All of their possessions were piled high in the back of light blue Ford. The adventure of their life was transpiring, though not as either one of them would conceive of nor expected.

MRJ’s beautiful 18 year old wife swayed from side to side as the 1965 Blue Ford pickup made its way down the dark and lonely two lane highway. Katrina looked fondly down at their daughter. Smiling as her daughter cooed and slept.

Seven months previously MRJ and his bride were living in South America. MRJ had a love affair with South America. Ecuador, Peru and Colombia specifically. As soon as he and his bride were married, Katrina became pregnant and they left Austin, Texas and traveled down to South America.

MRJ had stumbled upon the quaint village of Quito, Peru. He had just completed his second tour in Vietnam as well as his degree at the University of Texas in 1969. In Quito he found and fell in love with an ancient art of craftsmanship. One that came only out of this region. The art of weaving. The art of “The Hand-Woven Panama Hats.” A skill that had been passed down from generation to generation. It was a truly magnificent feat. The precise and detailed process was magical. The people were extraordinary as well. The textiles and jewelry, specifically the GOLD, that came from these regions were exemplary and rare. MRJ began collecting these rare items. And soon MRJ started exporting these items.

MRJ and his bride who possessed a rare and captivating beauty spent eight months in South America, as her belly grew with their first born child. It was often said that the people of the land had never seen a woman that looked like Katrina. The locals would come up to her in awe and wonderment. They would reach out just to touch her.

Touch her hair. Touch her hands and just be in her presence. They would look at her as if she was a goddess. A rare being like they had never seen before with a growing baby in her belly. The locals believed she was an angel that had come to visit them in their remote villages deep in the Andes Mountains.

The first few months were spent living in a secluded monastery deep in the jungles at the base of the Andes Mount. The monastery was hundreds of years old. It was white and vividly showed its age in the cracks of the white plaster walls that slowly crumbled off in patches. The deep crooked cracks looked like a rod of lighting shooting down from the sky to touch the ground. The ornate detail in the heavy wooden doors, floors and the stairwell that led to the bell steeple were mired with remnants of the centuries of inhabitation by the nuns. The nuns that had called this beautiful monastery their home, lived in utter peace and tranquility. There were beautifully painted artiscos of saints and angels on the soaring ceilings.

A sweet smell of jasmine permeated the air. And the lush jungle that surrounded them expelled sweet, pure oxygen to the growing baby in Katrina's belly.

The two spent their days relishing the rare beauty of the foreign land they had found themselves in. They stumbled upon small remote villages and scoured the markets where MRJ would barter with the locals to add to his ever growing collection of rare, often ancient and always incredibly beautiful pieces of art. Rugs, pottery, GOLD bars, jewelry and of course the infamous Panama Hats.

In the final three months of their South America adventure MRJ and Katrina stayed on the Ecuadorian Coast in Guayaquil, Ecuador. The impending birth of their first born child was getting closer every moment of every day. And Katrina had become ancy as she was determined to have her baby back in Austin, Texas. So MRJ without hesitation put his beautiful young bride on a plane and sent her back, with the assurance that he would be there just in time for the delivery. He explained to his unnerved bride that he must stay a few more weeks. A final quest to add to his collection of exports. A bold and decisive decision that would unknowingly create a business that the world would grow to know. A world renowned brand. A world renowned reputation. A world renowned man. Known as Milton Ray Johnson.

As the old Ford made its way along the dark two lane highway, Katrina sweetly leaned over and kissed MRJ’s cheek. He smiled. She smiled and turned her attention back to the sleeping baby girl. She admired the beautiful handsewn quilt she had made for their daughter. A quilt she had made when she returned from her South American adventure, while eagerly awaiting the birth of her first born child. And nervously awaiting her husband to return from South America in time for the birth.

The Johnson family of three, were on their way to the beginning of their new life. With laser focus on “The Four Corners.”

Four Corners was random. And unequivocally the only place on the map of THE UNITED STATES, where four states intersect. Colorado, Utah, Arizona and New Mexico. “The Four Corners” offered a plethora of places to call home.

Katrina dozed off dreaming of where they would decide to end up. Where they would plant their roots, grow their love, grow their family and secure their future.

MRJ focused on the road ahead. Little did MRJ know his intended destination would never come to be. Nor could he ever anticipate the legacy that would ensue from a quick decision he made in a single moment on a spectacularly clear night in the rocky mountains of Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Ten long hours had passed since MRJ, Katrina and their three month old daughter had said goodbye to the little house on Pearl Street in Austin. They smiled fondly as they waved goodbye to the dim glow of the city lights in the rear view mirror. Anticipation and happiness filled the air.

As the blue Ford rambled into the tiny capital of New Mexico. Single lane dirt roads and tiny clusters of adobe homes welcomed them to Santa Fe. Nightfall was upon them and they were exhausted. Ready to stretch their legs and give their daughter some much needed fresh air. MRJ and Katrina decided to camp out in the Santa Fe National Forest at the foothills of the Santa Fe Ski Basin, also known as Hyde Park.

MRJ and Katrina personified the very definition of the era. They were hippies. Katrina hand made all of their clothes. Material possessions were less than important to them. They were vegetarians and clean eating was of the utmost importance in their lives. Camping overnight in the mountains made sense. Their bodies would keep each other warm and safe as they drifted off to sleep in the rusty and battered blue Ford.

Golden rays of sunlight slowly rose above the rocky mountains. The warmth and glow of the sun was a welcome sight. The polar opposite from the dark, night before. The three of them opened their eyes. Ready for the next long haul of the day.

Katrina was walking their daughter by the snowy river. The green eyed cherub baby smiled, cooed and started to cry. It was time to be fed.

Just as Katrina started to take her breast out and feed her baby girl, she heard MRJ shouting. She walked back towards the Ford and saw MRJ stomping his feet, with his hands to his head and his steel gray eyes wide eyed and in disbelief.

“They stole everything. They stole our cooler. Our tofu. Our bean sprouts. Our five gallon cans of tamari, safflower oil and honey are GONE!!!”

Slightly in shock. Katrina swiftly composes herself and tells her husband “It’s okay. Let's go to town and we will restock what we need.”

It took about twelve minutes to get to town. The foothills of the ski basin and Hyde Park were a direct route to downtown Santa Fe. As they meandered around the Plaza, they saw a health food market. A Japanese market called “Shoko’s.” With absolute delight MRJ and Katrina restocked all of their essentials and strolled through the adjacent alley. They came upon another hidden treasure of a store. A simple and unique store called “Wool Creations by Judy.” A perfectly woven, colorful wool hat for the cherub baby girl was selected. Hand picked by Judy the owner and the artist of these rare pieces of merchandise.

MRJ, Katrina and Judy struck up a conversation about how they had ended up in her store. Judy offered them a sublime deal they could not ignore.

“There is a beautiful home on the Santa Fe River in El Canoncito. It’s $25 a month in the winter. And $35 in the summer. There is no running water. There is electricity, an outhouse and plenty of land to create a large garden to grow your own food.”

After such bad luck, this was a GODSEND from Judy. And they swiftly accepted the offer.

This was a very unique town they had stumbled upon. Neither one of them had heard of nor known of Santa Fe. The architecture. The skies. The light. The people. It was vastly different than anywhere they had ever been with the exception of South America. There was an overwhelming sense of: this is home. This is where we want to live. This is where we want to raise our family.

Tony Taylor, one of MRJ’s first friends and customers that initially bought random panchos and pottery from MRJ in Santa Fe was instrumental in the evolution of the first storefront property MRJ opened. Tony Taylor was the brother of Lady Bird Johnson. “The First Lady” of “The Johnson Presidency'' as well as a local Austinite. Tony would also be the one to tell my father “Milton you need to focus on producing and selling these remarkable hats from Ecuador and Peru.”

Tony had the perfect spot. $50 dollars a month, and they were to only be open June, July and August. The small yet more than sufficient storefront offered by Tony Taylor was located on Water Street in downtown Santa Fe. Right then and there “Montecristi Custom Hat Works - Macondo Inc.” was created. The trove of treasures MRJ had purposefully acquired from his time spent in South America went on display and were sold. Most importantly the fine woven hats from Ecuador and Peru were also on display and many inquiries were taken.

And as it would be, the storefront on Water Street held a remarkable likeness to the historical white Monastery MRJ & Katrina had lived in during the first three months of their South America adventure.

MRJ was both self taught and mentored.

Mentored by legends such as “Manny” of “Texas Hatters” in Austin, Texas. MRJ would eventually go on to acquire “Texas Hatters” in the early 80’s.

“Giuseppe Borsalino” Borsalino Hats. The coveted fur felt fedora hat and infamous brand straight out of Italy, befriended MRJ and they too became comrades. On a personal and professional level. MRJ would come very close to acquiring Borsalino Hats in the late 80’s during one of Italy’s hardest hit economic tailspins. It turned out that MRJ would be outbid by 100k and Borsalino was sold to another entity.” Neiman Marcus would also come to be a very important brand and collaboration between MRJ and “Mr. Stanley” of “Neiman Marcus.”

Two more children would come to be born and raised in this beautiful city. The only son, the middle child, with no middle name. It took three weeks for him to be named. As the story goes MRJ was mortified when he was born. He looked nothing like his big sister. He looked like an alien and called him, boy. He was born at home with a midwife like all of the three kids in, “El Canoncito.” He was named after the place he was born. Canon Johnson. No middle name. Chenoa Storm was the baby sister and was born three years later.

Today "Montecristi Custom Hat Works" is a world renowned destination point. If a person desires a custom made panama hat by the one and only Milton Ray Johnson one must travel to 322 McKenzie Street in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Where you will enter a warm, inviting, profound and special space of creativity, extraordinary craftsmanship and design. Most importantly, if you’re lucky enough, you just may meet “THE MAN BEHIND THE LEGEND.” My father Milton Ray Johnson.

“Montecristi Custom Hat Works” was established 44 years ago. My father and my mother did not choose Santa Fe. Santa Fe chose them. And in turn our family, my siblings and I were so very fortunate to have ended up in this uniquely special and incredibly beautiful little town. Santa Fe, New Mexico … coined the “City of Gold” by the Conquistadors who had also stumbled upon this town in the 1500’s.

“Que Viva - Nuevo Mexico - Puro Santa for Vida”