Episode Analysis - S1 E27 Trap At Cordova

Trap at Cordova (26 May 1961)


Writers: Stirling Silliphant (teleplay); Joseph Vogel (story)
Director: Arthur Hiller
Director of Photography: Jack A. Marta
(Details from http://www.imdb.com - click on the episode title above for more cast and crew)


This is a fun episode, dealing with a serious theme that is familiar to many rural cultures – the isolated village with the school that can no longer be supported. The only apparent option is for the children to spend three hours a day on a school bus. Miguel Delgardo, the village patriarch, thinks differently. His plan is to essentially kidnap someone with a decent education and force them to teach at the school. Tod, with his Yale education, is a perfect candidate.

The only deep philosophy here is whether people should be allowed to continue in a dying way of life, or should be prompted towards the modern world by those of us who have already joined it. It’s not about the meaning of life – it’s about the meaning of quality of life.

Screencaps are from the Shout Factory edition of the series.

How’s that for an opening shot? The long, empty, open road, and classic American scenery.

And a boy cuts into that shot, peering down the road with binoculars (seems to me like a foreshadowing of the world of science and knowledge that he hopes to peer into), and the camera pans round to show his face. He’s looking for passing cars – looking to the outside world to bring something new into his world.

And so he sees a car. A regular American car with a regular American couple inside. Nothing special. Not like a Corvette with two hot young men in it.

This opening is all about revelations. The road, then the boy, then the car – and then this, hidden until now – a buggy and a group of children, and a man (Miguel Delgardo, played by Thomas Gomez, who was also Andre Cabateau in A Lance Of Straw). Miguel directs them to turn the buggy over onto its side.

I like this juxtaposition of the old, unevolved ways against the modern approaching car. It’s an instant visual sign that these people are behind the times, and are trying to reach out to modernity.

So a little boy ensconces himself under the wheel, and the trap is set…

Does this look like the face of education and intellect?

No, it does not.


‘Why do cats see at night better than we can?’ the trapped boy asks. ‘How do clouds stay in the air? What causes thunder? Where do insects go in the fall? What causes a mirage?’

The man can’t answer any of these things, so Miguel Delgado tells the children to right the buggy. The man is bewildered at this faked accident and wants to know what’s going on.

‘To a man who cannot answer the simple questions of a hungry mind there is no explanation. I have nothing to say,’ Miguel says in disgust. ‘Adios, senor.’

This is just a nice image of community solidarity as the outraged couple drive away.

But another car is spotted!! Guess who?

Buz is tapping his hand on the side of the car and looks like he’s singing along to something. How I wish I could hear what.

I love this switch in point of view, now Our Heroes are on the scene. We only saw from the Cordovan residents’ p.o.v. before. Now we’re getting Buz’n’Tod-eye-view.

Concern. Buz and Tod are concerned. They’re fine, upstanding members of society. Of course they’re concerned.

Buz is looking all pretty with his jumper round his neck as he tries to heave the buggy up and Tod tries to comfort the child.

Tod tries his hand at pushing too. I’ll leave the Milnerites to make what they will of this lovely display…

As if he’s deranged, the little boy starts to ask Tod maths questions concerning cherry pies. Tod, of course, answers this off pat while still pushing at the buggy. Again, Milnerites get a nice glimpse of Tod’s calf and thigh here.

Buz realises then that Miguel is pushing against them. Whoops.

‘It is the excitement, senor,’ Miguel tells him.

Buz responds in a rather beautifully bewildered way, ‘Excitement?’

The little boy starts tugging at Tod’s leg, asking him more questions. Tod can answer them all, because he’s a nice well-educated boy.

Buz pushing, because he’s pretty pushing. Tod is too, but I’m looking at Buz. Must try not to take too many screencaps…

I’m sorry. I can’t get over Buz and his round-the-neck sweater insouciance and his I’m-not-wearing-any-underwear look. But anyway, Tod has passed the test, and Miguel allows the buggy to be put back on its wheels.

Oh, Buz… Stop looking so good. Okay, context. Miguel says it would reflect badly on him if the boy died, and Tod and Buz look a little bewildered or disgusted that he is thinking about that rather than the boy himself.

Tod is disgusted that Miguel is standing around talking about education while the boy is hurt.

So Tod takes the boy back to Cordova in the Corvette while Buz takes charge of a flock of children and the wagon.

Oh Buz, you’ve got ugly… Oh no, sorry. That’s Miguel and the ‘injured’ child.

Cordova is an out of the way rural village, as evidenced by the shabby buildings and the sheep on the road. Everywhere, sheep on the road is a sign of rurality. It really is a different America, where the inhabitants speak Spanish and are cut off from the world. Children run after the car as if a carnival had come to town.

And suddenly the boy is miraculously healed, just by being in his home town. Tod is bewildered, and more than a little annoyed – especially when he is told he has broken the law by bringing a vehicle into the town plaza.

He tries to leave, and looks quite pretty in the process – but a group of men bar his way to the car, and without the car Tod is just an ordinary mortal.

They play a game of piggy-in-the-middle with his keys. Poor Tod. They already have a bench lined up for his trial, in the plaza.

Now Tod is really pissed off.

But the townspeople are overjoyed to find that he went to Yale. Once they find he has no job, home, or attachments, Tod is sentenced to a year (he doesn’t know a year of what yet). I could get lots of shots here of Tod being angry, but they would all look very similar.

He puts on a fine and moving speech about his Christian act of charity toward the boy, and asks, where is the Christianity in this village? I think this probably just impressing Miguel further. Miguel says he has been sent by St Nicholas as a gift to the children.

Tod is held back as they drive the car away to remove any temptation for him to leave them.

And then Buz turns up, looking surprisingly comfortable at the reins of the buggy, but consternated to see Tod being held and struggling as the car is driven away.

Buz away! He runs to Tod’s rescue, all the time making sure his jumper doesn’t fall off from around his shoulders.

‘Now, how do you want to work this?’ he asks Tod, obviously forming a plan of action. ‘Quarterback sneak or right around, right in?’ (Do they have some kind of fighting code that only they can understand?)

‘Forget it,’ Tod says. ‘These people have flipped. You can’t fight shadows.’

‘Are you kidding?’ Buz asks in amazement.

Miguel breaks the news to them that Tod has been fined for a traffic violation. His punishment is to teach school for a year.

This is Buz’s ‘huh?’ face.

Buz pretty much keeps his ‘huh?’ face on. Tod just looks quietly annoyed and sad. There may be no real validity in the sentence handed out to him, but he’s been captured by a town of kooks, so what can he do?

Later that night… The woman who is hosting Tod and Buz comes out to say that they will eat nothing and stay in their room until they are given the key to the car. Tod is more angry than Buz, I think.

Yes, Tod is definitely stronger than Buz on the food front. Buz is tempted to try his romantic candlelit dinner. I think I’d be tempted too.

‘Look, is there any reason why I have to support your hunger strike?’ he asks Tod. Tod is standing looking out of the window as if it’s a barred one in a jail cell.

‘Go ahead. Eat. Be a fink,’ Tod says bitterly.

Buz takes him up on that, so Tod starts quoting John Donne – ‘No man is an island…’ etc. So Buz says he’ll eat for both of them. Buz is regarding all of this with a good deal of humour, because it’s Tod who’s a prisoner, not him.

‘Who knows what they’ll want tomorrow,’ Tod says. ‘Maybe a scarecrow for one of their fields. Maybe the scarecrow’ll be you.’

Buz is too busy eating to register the insult – or else he doesn’t care.

‘Aren’t you the guy who’s always saying you gotta bust out, never get cemented in, walk away from it cold?’ Tod asks.

‘Yeah, that’s me,’ Buz nods, still tucking in.

‘Well, I’m gonna tell you something, buddy. We’re cemented in, thirty-two miles from the main highway and no car. A dozen husky farm boys just waiting outside to flex their muscles in case we try to fight our way out.’

Okay, I know canon-Buz is not gay, but still… He looks quite perky at the idea of the dozen husky farm boys – or maybe it’s just the idea of fighting them?

Buz’s attitude is really very Buz – to sit back and wait, and when they find a hole, to bust out – but to take the senora with them because she’s a good cook.

Morning, and they’re fast asleep in their beds. Aww.

Just a little flash of Buz-foot as he stretches. It’s 6 a.m. Ugh!

Buz is looking pleasingly sleepy. I’m sure Tod is too, but he hasn’t emerged from his slumber yet.

This isn’t just an excuse to get more caps of sleepy-Buz. Really it isn’t.

‘It is good he sleeps the sleep of the innocent,’ Miguel says of Tod.

‘Well, Mr Delgado, just between us – us guilty ones, us insomniacs,’ Buz asks, ‘I mean, what’s the real score around here? I mean, last night and yesterday, okay, we went along with the gag, but, you know, the earth has turned on its axis and the planets have moved in the heavens, so, er, why don’t we hear a new sound this morning, I mean, something more – a little bit reliable than the voice of the turtle.’

Buz, I love your speeches.

Miguel doesn’t tell him anything new – except that he is expected to teach the first and second grades, ‘in the hope that neither will prove beyond your capacities.’ It takes a moment to register, but suddenly Buz understands all of Tod’s indignation.

Poor bewildered, sleepy Buz.

This new turn in events pleases Tod no end. And I like the way that Buz obviously settled in happily enough last night to change into his pyjamas, whereas Tod spent the night in denial, still fully dressed.

‘Good morning, Mr Scarecrow. What did I tell you?’ Tod greets him.

More bewildered Buz in pyjamas. Why? Because I can.

‘I’ve gotta be still sleeping,’ Buz protests. ‘I don’t – I don’t get it. I mean, why us?’

Tod looks beautifully coquettish here. I don’t have anything to say any more about this scene – it’s just all so pretty.

Buz is still utterly bewildered as he protests that he isn’t qualified, without even a diploma, and that even Tod, with his Yale degree, isn’t qualified to teach.

‘You gotta have a paper, or something, don’t ya?’ he asks.

Tod is still looking wonderfully pleased with himself.

‘A certificate,’ he says smugly. ‘They call it certification.’

‘Go along with it,’ Tod says, echoing Buz the night before. ‘Get inside of it. That way when you’re ready the walls come down. The wall’s come down, all right. Right on your head.’

He’s having a great deal of fun with this. I think he’s even happy about the teaching now, just to see Buz get his comeuppance.

Buz tries hiding from the world.

It doesn’t work. It’s a sullen and dejected Buz that turns up with Tod for his first day at school.

‘Cut the glad talk, Mr Puppeteer. Just pull the strings, for now,’ he says when Miguel greets him. He sounds like me in the morning.

And Tod has his angry face on too, once Buz has moved away.

‘I’m not exactly what you might call overjoyed,’ he tells Miguel.

‘When one has a ritual of life he is no longer uneasy, and what ritual is more important than to excite the minds of the young?’ Miguel says wisely. ‘There is a passion for understanding just as there are other passions and appetites, but this passion is found only in children. All too soon it fades and goes forever, when the child grows into a man – unless, he is well taught while the mind is still open.’

Tod points out that maybe he should be teaching the kids.

‘Oh, but I do,’ Miguel says. ‘We all do. Every man and every woman in Cordova teaches. We teach the worship of God, love for America, respect for parents, the traditions we bring from Spain – but we cannot teach what is in the books. We do not read or write.’

Miguel says that they do not have the money to pay for a teacher. When Tod asks about the county, he says angrily, ‘Do not talk to me about the county.’

There’s something fishy going on.

And speak of the devil. Here is the symbol of the county – the jaunty, traditional school bus. This is why they were hustling to get everyone into school so early – to avoid the school bus sent by the county.

The locals all rail against the presence of the bus.

Buz asks, ‘How come we’re just standing here? How come we just don’t get on that bus and get out of this town?

‘Let me ask you one,’ Tod replies. ‘How come somebody sent a school bus for these kids and Delgado chases it away?’

But they do just stand there, and the bus is chased away, and Tod and Buz go inside to teach school.

Wouldn’t Tod make a lovely teacher? The pledge of allegiance scares me though. And how can you say, ‘One nation under God,’ when school is supposed to be secular?

Tod looks more than a little overwhelmed.

He writes down his name on the blackboard. (Yes, at this point I would just about kill to have Tod as my teacher. Then I would have an affair with him.) He asks the kids to do the same – and finds out how little education they have. Some of the younger ones can’t write.

The faces of the beseeching little children imploring Tod to teach them to read and write. If nothing could persuade him, this will.

You can see him wrestling with his conscience here. Poor Tod.

Okay, Buz looks very, very cute teaching the little children. I hated school, but I would love school if these two were my teachers (and by some strange coincidence I was not a child) :-)

The kids are pretty cute, too. They’re singing ‘The Farmer’s In The Dell.’

Buz is digging the sound of little children singing. I think he’s found his calling. You feel like you can see a realisation growing in him about the value of what he could do here.

Meanwhile, the sheriff gets word that Miguel is breaking the law in keeping the children from school, so he gets in his car and drives up to Cordova. Tod is playing baseball with the children in the yard and Miguel ends recess quickly and sends everyone back inside so he can speak to the sheriff.

So Tod and Buz watch as Miguel speaks to the sheriff. I could have screencapped them talking instead of Tod and Buz watching, but to be frank Tod and Buz are prettier than Miguel and the sheriff.

The sheriff is being pretty patient with Miguel, but he challenges him to give one legitimate reason why the children can’t go to the new school.

‘Three hours a day – that’s why not! That’s fifteen hours a week, on a bus,’ Miguel says fiercely. But that’s not reason enough for the sheriff.’

Here we learn about Miguel’s daughter Anita who is a teacher, but will not teach in Cordova. Miguel does not speak of her.

‘About the only way to get [teachers] is to kidnap them,’ the sheriff says perceptively, and goes over to Tod and Buz. This is crunch time. They look like two kids being questioned by a teacher as the sheriff asks where Miguel had dug them up from.

‘We’re from out of state,’ Tod says truthfully.

They give their names, but Tod says their papers with their teacher numbers are being shipped.

Buz seems reticent to speak in the face of the law, but then he adds to Tod’s statements, ‘We sort of, you know, rushed in here last minute. You know.’

Buz is obviously not a hardened lawbreaker despite his troubled past.

Buz really does look like a naughty schoolboy here as he fiddles with his ball instead of looking at the sheriff.

Lovely Spanish-influenced rustic architecture. That’s the only reason for this shot.

This is a photo of the church in 2007, sourced from  http://www.flickr.com/photos/42834620@N00/2120157593 - there are other shots of Cordova on this flickr stream like this http://www.flickr.com/photos/flyingdogstudios/3431259055/sizes/o/ .

And a photo from inside the church, photographer and date unknown.

And here’s the inside of the church. I wonder if it’s still there today?

‘To many of us Cordova has been more than a little place in the mountains. It is a manner of life, rich in old values, poor in such things as money. Still, we have never allowed our poverty to destroy our dignity, until now,’ Miguel tells them. ‘Now, we are too poor to pay enough taxes to support our school, and too proud to let our children go to another. It reflects badly on us, does it not? Today, when you lied to Senor Canfield for us, I was proud for you, but ashamed for me. I was ashamed that I had tricked you and made you stay here. One man cannot stamp down another man, any more than you can tramp down the fragrance of the fields without it rising from beneath the boot.’

He has had the car brought back and is giving Tod the key.

This argument seems very relevant today just as it was when this was filmed. A lot of small schools where I live are being closed, raising all those questions about community and how to finance rural schools. I’m not sure anyone knows the answers yet.

‘Well, Senor Delgado, um, we’re not exactly in demand any place, so – well – ’ Buz says.

‘Ah, gracias, senors, gracias,’ Miguel beams.

‘De nada,’ Buz replies.

As they’re debating the next plan of action (how to overcome the fact they don’t have certificates, whether or not the sheriff will arrest Miguel) the door opens, and in walks Anita, Miguel’s daughter.

She’s come to talk sense into her father, to persuade him to give up on his campaign to keep the children in school here. Tod and Buz break it to her that they are quite happy to stay and they like what Miguel is trying to do.

‘Do you know what he is trying to do?’ she asks. ‘He is trying to hold on to yesterday. He is trying to bring up the children of this town for a life that no longer exists. He will not face facts and he won’t allow anyone else in Cordova to face facts. But it won’t work. He can’t do it. The world doesn’t care about places like Cordova any more.’

And this situation still exists. The communities upheld by tourism, the villages with no purpose any more, the centralisation of industry and business in cities and the country villages running out of steam and gradually dying. It is a process which started with the industrial revolution and the ripples are still being felt today.

I can feel for Anita too. When she left for university her father carved a saint for her, to keep her safe and have her return to Cordova as a teacher. He thinks he carved badly that day. But I can see why Anita doesn’t want to be trapped in this place. She’s moved on. She wants her father to allow the rest of the village to move on too. She pleads with him, but he walks out.

Tod and Buz have that sad and rather embarrassed look that they get when they don’t know how to deal with an emotional woman. Actually they’re probably feeling pretty awkward at being caught up in this. When Anita goes to pray, they quietly leave the church. As much as Anita has been away, it is still Tod and Buz who are strangers here.

Resolute as always, Miguel is ringing the school bell when the school bus arrives. My school used to have a bell like this too, and sixteen pupils. It’s closed now because it’s too small.

This time the sheriff arrives with the bus. (Dammit, every time I type ‘bus’ I write ‘buz’ instead.) Tod and Buz hustle all the children instead, while Miguel has his showdown with the sheriff.

This time the sheriff will arrest him. He pulls out his handcuffs.

(The sheriff is played by James Brown, who is in eight Route 66 episodes in total.)

‘A gem cannot be polished but with friction,’ Miguel says stoutly. ‘A man cannot be perfected without trials.’

As Miguel is led to the police car, the strains of ‘This old man’ start up from inside the schoolhouse, and Tod stands listening in that cardigan. Thank you, God, for that cardigan. It’s a sudden reminder to everyone that the children here are being educated, and are happy.

Tod is teaching the children about the aurora borealis when a photographer steps in and snaps a shot. How I’d like to see that shell-shocked snap of him at the blackboard.

Tod stands, befreckled, and wonders what’s going on.

Buz’s classroom seems to be empty, but we can hear him. Where’s Buz, everybody?

There’s Buz! Oh my god, I’ve just died a little from the cuteness. Whereas Tod favours the traditional method – saying something, having the children repeat it, writing it on the board – Buz is teaching to the Buz-method – and it looks much more fun.

‘You see, what you’ll have to learn is that everything you see is all hooked up to everything else. If you wanna get a clear picture you have to look at all the parts. But it’s all hooked up, like – take for instance the sun. Now, can you take a piece out of the sun?’

I really want to screencap more of this, just because it’s adorable, but really it would all look the same.

And then Buz gets snapped too, and is equally wondering. After he is snapped he gets befuddled and forgets what he was talking about, and possibly forgets his lines a little too.

Here’s the photographer, just in case you feel like you missed him.

And then an excited and voluble woman runs in to tell Tod he is wanted on the phone by Senator Chavez in Santa Fe. Obviously everything is starting to erupt.

Tod and Buz go to the big city, Santa Fe. What a contrast this is to Cordova.

And look, here is the same location in 2007, courtesy of Google Street View - approx. 332 Don Gaspar Avenue Santa Fe. It looks more scruffy today.

They both look nervous. Are they on their way to their civil partnership ceremony? No, it’s not that.

‘Why don’t you look at this way?’ Buz asks. ‘If Mr – er – whatisname – Mr Smith can go to Washington, why can’t you come to Santa Fe?’

‘Yeah, why don’t you make the speech to the senate then?’ Tod asks darkly.

‘Oh no, I only teach the first and second graders,’ Buz says (not a sentence you’d ever expect to hear him utter), ‘what can I teach a politician?’

‘You know, the thing that bugs me is all this destiny jazz,’ Tod says. ‘I mean, four days ago we were driving down the road trying to decide whether to go north or south. And that’s the big problem – north or south. And all of a sudden we’re in the middle of a political issue. Miguel’s in jail, fifty kids are playing hooky, and I’ve gotta address the legislature of the sovereign state of New Mexico.’

‘That’s okay – my money’s still on you,’ Buz says reassuringly.

I suppose they went on the road to get away from exactly this kind of thing – being tied down by politics and business and issues like that. And here they are up to their necks in it. I suppose when you involve yourself in other people’s lives as much as this pair does, eventually it’s inevitable.

Anita is there, to try to persuade them to just leave and drop all of this. If they do, Miguel will be released and the children will go to the school outside of Cordova. She doesn’t want her town and her father to be made to seem ridiculous.

‘We’ve got ourselves all wrapped up in this too,’ Buz tells her, ‘and whenever that happens you gotta go with it, right to the centre of things. Right?’

And that encapsulates a Route 66 episode, right there, and they walk on.

Tod looks very, very nervous as the senator introduces the subject of Cordova and its school. He’s kind of jigging in his chair. I think he might be getting ready to run or throw up.

This is what Tod is having to face. A room full of this.

So Tod makes an impassioned speech for the schoolchildren and town of Cordova. He wants to tell them about the human side of the issue.

Buz is watching with a kind of tender pride that makes me melt.

‘There’s nothing in Cordova really,’ Tod says. (The judge or whatever he is looks bored out of his skull, and is also smoking like a chimney.) ‘Just people. Well, they have some livestock and some orchards. They grow their own food, they weave a few blankets for the tourists and they carve a few statues. But there’s no big industry there. The place isn’t going anywhere. Actually there’s no justification at all for Cordova on the basis of economics. But it exists – it’s there – and it’s been there a long time.’

‘The only thing they really have in Cordova is their children,’ Tod continues. ‘You might say their children are their only natural resource, their only future. Now the issue of the school in Cordova, whether it’s right or wrong for the kids to be kept there or sent to a new school is another issue, I think. It’s a question of what’s more important – today or tomorrow. In Cordova they live for today. Like Senor Delgado said, ‘Today the sky is filled with God’s sunshine. Tomorrow may never come.’

‘They don’t want to think ahead in Cordova. They don’t want to be pushed into progress. Okay, maybe that’s wrong, but maybe it’s not either. I think people have the right to choose. They’ve found something up in Cordova – something to believe in, something that works for them. Now, maybe it would be better for the state and the country to take the children away from Cordova and send them to a new school with teachers from the city, but is the new school really that much better than the one they have? Would it really cost that much more to pay a couple of teachers to live up there with them? I don’t know the economics of the thing. I don’t know if you gentlemen could do anything about it now even if you wanted to. I guess all I’m really saying is that the world’s already moving fast enough. Do we have to take all the little towns and speed them up too? If Cordova’s going to die let it die a natural death, in its own time. Meanwhile, let them live their own way, in peace. Then, maybe they won’t die. You know, they just might outlive us all. Thank you.’

He gets a standing ovation. Even the Very Bored Judge is clapping. Whew, I think he deserves it. I didn’t type out the whole speech, either. What a speech to have to learn off pat.

Buz is proud too, and is clapping like a trooper.

Anita is so proud, of her father, of her village, I expect, that she is almost crying. Far from being shamed or made a laughing stock, her village has been raised up.

So, the contrast again. Our heroes return to Cordova in the Corvette.

They look triumphant, and very pretty in their lovely car.

It seems a new playground is being erected.

‘I thought we might get some action, but I didn’t think it would be this quick,’ Tod says in amazement. (On an aside, this place makes me nostalgic for Mediterranean holidays.)

Anita is ringing the school bell…

Tod and Buz look momentarily put out – but face it, it wouldn’t be such a good series if it were about the adventures of two unqualified school teachers in Cordova, so Tod and Buz have to move on.

A little boy tells Tod gleefully that Anita is back, and he didn’t mean to offend Tod, but Anita is one of them. Anita gives Tod heartfelt thanks – and at the same moment the sheriff returns Miguel to the town. Of course Miguel immediately starts giving orders to the men putting the playground equipment in. (I like to think that Route 66 funded this in real life. I hope so.)

So the sheriff tells Tod that he charmed the senate (or whatever it was) and they’ve passed a ‘special appropriation’ for Cordova.

‘Well, when they move in New Mexico they really move,’ Buz says, giving the audience that he doesn’t know about a reason for all this happening so fast. ‘It’s only be a couple of hours since we left Santa Fe.’

Big hugs all round from Miguel.

And his daughter is welcomed back into the fold. Sensing that they have put right what once went wrong, Tod and Buz prepare to leap… (Sorry, wrong programme. I’m sure the makers of Quantum Leap must have watched Route 66.)

And to sweet and triumphant music Miguel starts to supervise the putting in of the play equipment again, while in the background we hear the roar of the Corvette starting up, and Tod and Buz glide away to their next adventure.