BUDVILLE

 

County: Cibola   

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Year Established: Late 1920's 

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Year Abandoned: 1994, although the Dixie Bar was open until 2019

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Location: About 1 mile west of I-40 Exit 104 on Route 66  

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About: The Rise and Fall of Budville, New Mexico

Welcome to Budville, where the faded remnants of a once-thriving roadside hub along Route 66 whisper tales of ambition, power, and tragedy. Located in western Valencia County, New Mexico, approximately 20 miles east of Grants and 46 miles west of Albuquerque, Budville emerged in the late 1920s as a small but vital community shaped by the vision and iron will of Howard Neal “Bud” Rice. From its heyday as a bustling service stop to its decline into obscurity following murder and modernization, Budville’s story is a microcosm of the American West’s shifting fortunes. Here, we trace its history through the decades, drawing from the accounts of its founding, its peak, and the violent end that hastened its fade into a ghost town.

The Founding and Rise of Budville (1920s–1950s)
Budville’s roots stretch back to the late 1920s, when Roscoe Rice, a mechanic with a knack for fixing cars, established a garage along the rugged trails that would soon become Route 66. As the iconic highway was completed in the 1930s, Roscoe’s garage found itself perfectly positioned to serve the steady stream of travelers and truckers navigating between Grants and Albuquerque. His son, Howard Neal “Bud” Rice, born and raised in nearby Cubero, inherited his father’s entrepreneurial spirit and took the family business to new heights. By the late 1930s, Bud had christened the growing cluster of buildings around the garage “Budville,” a name that stuck as the community coalesced around his expanding enterprises.

In the 1940s and 1950s, Bud Rice transformed Budville into a one-man empire along Route 66. He expanded the original garage into a multifaceted operation that included a towing and wrecker service, a gas station, a general store doubling as a Greyhound bus stop, and even a trading post. His tow trucks held a monopoly on the 38-mile stretch of highway between the Rio Puerco and Grants, making Bud the sole savior for stranded motorists—whether their cars broke down, slid off in bad weather, or needed hauling after a wreck. Bud’s wife, Aurora “Flossie” Rice, was no mere bystander; she drove the wreckers herself, towed cars, and served as a deputy sheriff, filing accident reports and representing the law when Bud was busy.

Bud’s influence extended beyond roadside services. By the 1950s, he had become the local justice of the peace, issuing brake and light stickers, license plates, and drivers’ licenses, and levying fines on speeders—often out-of-towners—who crossed his path. Known as “Juez de Boss” or “Judge Boss,” a nod to the infamous Judge Roy Bean, Bud wielded extraordinary authority over his stretch of Route 66, earning both admiration and resentment. He cultivated alliances with the New Mexico State Police, gifting them liquor and cigarettes each Christmas and hosting Fourth of July barbecues, ensuring their frequent, visible presence at his businesses. His political connections ran deep, evidenced by a 1939 assault conviction that was pardoned by the governor in 1942, a favor that underscored his knack for navigating power.

Budville thrived as a bustling hub during this golden era of Route 66. Families recall Bud’s generosity—helping poor children with shoes for school or bailing neighbors out of jail—while travelers relied on his services to keep moving. Yet, Bud’s dominance came with a price. His towing monopoly and high repair costs—such as exorbitant fan belt replacements or tire chains sold under false pretenses—alienated many. His steep fines as justice of the peace, often $60 a ticket (equivalent to $380 today), further fueled distrust among outsiders. Budville was a paradox: a lifeline for some, a trap for others, all under the watchful eye of its larger-than-life founder.

The Struggle Against Progress and a Violent End (1960s)
The 1960s brought both triumph and turmoil to Budville. As Interstate 40 (I-40) threatened to bypass Route 66 and render small towns obsolete, Bud Rice fought back. He played a pivotal role in passing New Mexico’s Anti-Bypass Law, which required community consent for interstate construction to skirt business areas. Though the law aimed to protect places like Budville, I-40 was built in the mid-1960s, and Bud lost the broader battle. He did, however, secure an exit for Budville, ensuring some traffic still trickled through. Yet, the new highway siphoned away the lifeblood of Route 66, leaving Budville more isolated and vulnerable.

That vulnerability came into sharp focus on the evening of November 18, 1967, when Bud Rice’s reign ended in bloodshed. Around 8:00 p.m., a stranger pulled into Bud’s trading post and gas station just before closing. Bud pumped gas while the man entered the store to buy cigarettes from Blanche Brown, an 82-year-old retired schoolteacher and longtime employee. An argument erupted, and when Bud stepped inside, the man drew a 9mm pistol. In the ensuing struggle, five shots rang out: three struck Bud, two hit Blanche, killing them both. Flossie, then 46, emerged from the back, only to be forced by the gunman to hand over up to $450 in cash and jewelry. He tied her up, taped her mouth, and dragged the bodies—one into the adjoining Rice home—before fleeing into the night.

Unbeknownst to the killer, Nettie Buckley, the Rices’ housekeeper, had hidden in the bathroom during the chaos. She freed Flossie, who called the police, sparking a massive manhunt. Roadblocks bristled with armed officers along I-40 and Route 66, but an initial suspect, 23-year-old Navy petty officer Larry E. Bunten, was wrongly arrested and later released when evidence cleared him. The case stalled until early 1968, when three felons plea-bargained, naming 26-year-old Billy Ray White—a drifter with a long criminal record—as the culprit. White, who’d allegedly targeted Bud’s rumored cash stash, landed on the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted list and was captured in Springfield, Illinois, on August 17, 1968.

White’s trial in 1969 was a sensation in Valencia County. Flossie identified him as the killer, but his defense undermined her testimony—pointing to her earlier misidentification of Bunten and the use of hypnosis—and leaned on an alibi from questionable witnesses. Despite damning testimony from felons about White’s involvement, the jury acquitted him, swayed by doubts over the evidence and his clean-cut courtroom demeanor. Hours after the verdict, Flossie’s new husband, Max Atkinson, attacked White with a knife in court, only to be stopped by Bud’s son-in-law. White’s freedom was fleeting; extradited to Louisiana for similar crimes, he was convicted and died in prison in 1974, reportedly confessing to the Budville murders—a claim some dispute.

Decline into a Ghost Town

(1970s–Present)
Budville never recovered from the murders. Flossie, twice widowed after Max’s death in a 1973 brawl, remarried and ran the store until 1979, when I-40’s bypass finally choked off its viability. She died in 1994 and is buried in Budville Cemetery, near the town she’d helped sustain. The trading post, gas station, and garage—all symbols of Bud’s empire—fell silent, their purpose lost to time and progress. Theories linger about the murders: Was it White, or someone closer, like Flossie or Max (despite his alibi)? Could it have been retribution from Bud’s many foes? The truth remains elusive, buried with the town’s fading relics.

Today, Budville stands as a ghostly shell along old Route 66, its crumbling buildings a testament to a bygone era. Once a lifeline for travelers and a kingdom for Bud Rice, it now draws the curious to ponder its rise, its violent fall, and the mysteries that linger in the dust. Explore this site to uncover more about Budville’s past, its people, and the legacy of a town that refused to fade quietly. 

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Remains: Budville Trading Post and the Dixie Bar, as well a couple of other buildings. Down the street from the Budville Trading Post is the Casa Blanca Trading Post 

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