TAMING THE HEALING WATERS:
The History Of The Chinati Hot Springs
by David Keller
T
he Chinati Hot Springs is not a
place you just stumble on to.
Tucked away in a rocky canyon
some 40 miles southwest of Marfa, the
tiny resort is one of the most remote –
and hidden – destinations in the Big
Bend. And yet, for more than a century,
the little outback oasis has attracted a
diverse array of people seeking health,
camaraderie and relaxation.
Human use of the hot springs actual-
ly extends far back into prehistory. How
far we don’t really know, but artifactual
remains as well as local lore indicate a
native presence that reaches back cen-
turies. Historians have speculated that
the first written account may have been
as early as 1684, when the Mendoza-
Lopez expedition passed by on its way to
La Junta. But the first definitive mention
of the springs was in 1885, when a state
land inspector noted several families
camped there “testing its medicinal
virtues.”
Although legend has long held that
Annie Kingston bought the springs for
her arthritic brother in 1896, land
records indicate the property was not
actually filed upon until almost two
decades later. By then, however, Annie’s
brother John Lee was already living at
the hot springs and had been for some
time. A field botanist who camped there
in 1914 noted in her journal, “there are
several camping parties below us, both
white folks and Mexicans... There is a
sick man down at the spring who stays
here all the time with a Mexican boy to
take care of him. His name is Mr. Lee.”
Most accounts indicate John Lee had
been a miner in the Klondike gold rush,
but, stricken with arthritis, was no longer
able to work. One of the Kingston’s
ranch hands told Annie about the hot
springs, which at the time were one of
the only known treatments. When Lee
first arrived at the springs is uncertain,
but we know that in 1921, when he sub-
mitted proof of occupancy to the state,
the county clerk noted, “the said J. J. Lee
is not able to work or scarcely walk. He
bought the land on account of the
spring and lives there... Mr. Lee has not
10
Photo by David Keller
Photo courtesy of Pat Kingston Towler.
been off of this land for a number of
years.”
The hot springs may have alleviated
Lee’s condition, but did little to extend
his life. He passed away in 1925, leaving
the hot springs to Annie. At that time,
the improvements consisted of little
more than Lee’s one-room adobe house
along with an adobe bathhouse and an
outbuilding or two. But over the course
of the next decade, Annie’s third son Bill
built several cabins on the property to
accommodate overnight guests, and in
1937 the hot springs opened as a com-
mercial resort.
Bill Kingston apparently operated
the hot springs in its earliest days, and
over the years it also served as a retreat
for Kingston family members. But start-
ing in the 1940s, the springs were run by
Edith Rogers, who had ranched with
her husband in the adjacent Sierra Vieja
Mountains. Following his death, Edith
leased the springs from Annie under the
name Ruidosa Hot Springs.
Charging only nominal rates for
baths and overnight stays, it was a mar-
ginal operation. Rogers began to supple-
ment her income by selling naturally
stained glassware. By sheer accident she
learned that after being placed in circu-
Cenizo
Second Quarter 2012
The undated photograph on the left shows the three adobe cabins
adjacent to the caretaker’s house, which are believed to have been
built in the early to mid-1930s. The adobe cabin shown above,
attached to the bathhouse, may be one of the original structures and
is possibly where John Lee, the springs’ first know resident, lived.
“These Springs are...
pronounced by those
who have tested it to
be of equal merit to the
Hot Springs of Arkansas.
Several families are
camped on the ground
now, testing its
medicinal virtues...”
– William M. Baines’
Report to State Land Board
1885
lating hot springs water for several days,
glassware turned an iridescent gold. For
years Rogers took special orders, in addi-
tion to selling her golden-tinged glass-
ware at a tiny store adjacent to the
house.
The hot springs continued to be
operated by lessees until around 1967,
when Annie’s grandson Jack took over
the operation, renamed the Kingston
Hot Springs. Following his death in
1978, Annie’s granddaughter Bea and
her husband Jack Paul took over.
Initially hiring others to manage the
springs, in 1984 they, along with Bill
Kingston III and his wife Dot, moved
out to run the resort. While Bill and Dot
booked guests, Jack and Bea ran “Bea’s
Place” – a tiny store where guests could
buy beer, ice, toiletries and other basic
necessities.
Many fondly recall the years the
Pauls and the Kingstons operated the
hot springs, a time when there was
always friendly conversation and plenty
of good food and beer to go around. But
in 1989, Dot passed away and Bill
returned to Balmorhea. After Bea fell ill,
the financial strain became too much for
the Pauls, and they had no choice but to
leave. With no one left in the family to
run it, and with a lot of regret, the hot
springs were put on the market.
In 1990, New York minimalist artist
Donald Judd, who already owned prop-
erty in both Marfa and Pinto Canyon,
purchased the hot springs. Well respect-
ed in the art world, Judd’s intensely pri-
vate nature and notoriously rigid aes-
thetic didn’t always resonate with locals.
After bulldozing several concrete block
cabins, including Bea’s Place, he shut the