POJOAQUE, N.M. — When he needs groceries, J.C. Garcia bypasses his local market and drives 10 miles to another store so he doesn't bump into the man who stabbed him in the chest.
It's been nearly four years since Garcia was severely wounded by his then-brother-in-law, a Pojoaque Indian, who has said he acted in self-defense. During that time, authorities were unable to prosecute the case because of jurisdictional confusion relating to Indian sovereignty.
For The Record
Los Angeles Times Tuesday June 27, 2006 Home Edition Main News Part A Page 2 National Desk 1 inches; 42 words Type of Material: Correction
Prosecution of Native Americans: An article in Sunday's Section A on a jurisdictional dispute over a stabbing in New Mexico's Indian country said the Pojoaque tribe wanted the case tried in state court. The Pojoaque wanted the case heard in federal court.
State judges said the case was the responsibility of federal prosecutors, who routinely handle crimes committed by Native Americans on tribal land. But a federal judge had ruled that land like the Garcias' -- one of thousands of parcels of private land surrounded by Indian country in the northern part of New Mexico -- should be under state jurisdiction.
Then earlier this month, the New Mexico Supreme Court ruled that the U.S. attorney's office should prosecute the case. U.S. Atty. David Iglesias said he was pleased that the court had provided clarity on how to proceed in such "prosecution-free zones."
Over the years, the attack and the ensuing legal logjam have created tension throughout this small community about 15 miles northwest of Santa Fe -- where Indian casinos and adobe mansions are replacing truck stops and ranches.
For centuries, Native Americans and the descendants of Spanish conquerors have lived as neighbors and intermarried here in the high desert under the Sangre de Cristo Mountains.
When the federal government was thinking of granting the Pojoaque tribal land to another tribe in the 1920s, Garcia's grandfather was among those who tracked down the last full-blooded Pojoaque, Jose Antonio Tapia, to warn him that he needed to reclaim his land.
"I still have a lot of respect for what that family did for my family," said one of Tapia's great-grandsons, George Rivera, governor of the 350 members of the Pojoaque Pueblo.
Rivera says he's still friends with the Garcias. "But when I see them in court," he said, "we're on the other side."
Orlando Romero, a local novelist and columnist for the Santa Fe New Mexican who lives near a neighboring Indian pueblo, blamed the animosity on the growth of Indian casinos, which he said had benefited the tribes but not their Latino neighbors.
"It's changed from a very cooperative community to one filled with distrust," Romero said.
Rivera attributed the change to other forces: residents commuting to jobs in Los Alamos or Santa Fe rather than working together in the apple and peach orchards.
"You get people not growing up side by side anymore, seeing each other every day," Rivera said from his office in a pueblo government building next to a $200-million luxury resort under construction.
Mathew Gutierrez, Garcia's alleged assailant, to this day works within a mile of the Garcias' homestead. Garcia says he has changed his commute and shunned large gatherings to avoid encounters with his former brother-in-law.
Garcia family members say they hope the state Supreme Court ruling will allow them to get justice and bring a measure of peace to the community.
"We finally get our day in court," said Ben Garcia, J.C.'s father. "I'll leave it in God's hands."
The tribe -- which had fought for the case to be handled in state, rather than federal, court -- is also relieved. Tribal attorney Frank Demolli called the time the case spent in limbo "one of the biggest miscarriages of justice" he had seen.
Douglas Couleur, Gutierrez's attorney, did not return a call for comment after the ruling, but earlier had said his client also had suffered from the delay. "The uncertainty of what's going to happen weighs on him too," Couleur said.
Gutierrez is now divorced from Angelina Garcia, J.C.'s sister. The couple met while working at the tribe's visitors center, and were married in 1997. A year later, according to court documents, Gutierrez began to beat his wife, then pregnant with their second child.
Angelina Garcia said she kept the abuse secret for years because Gutierrez had threatened to harm her family and take their children. As a Pojoaque, he could have arranged to fight for custody in tribal courts, where he had special rights.
"I didn't have any options," Angelina Garcia said recently. "I lived on the pueblo. I was trapped. There was no way out."
But on Aug. 25, 2002, she told a sister-in-law that her husband had been beating her. That evening, word already had reached her family. When Gutierrez and his then-wife pulled up to the Garcia homestead, a collection of mobile homes and stucco houses, family members shouted at Gutierrez to leave. But according to the Garcias, he instead stepped out of the truck and headed for Ben Garcia, with whom he had argued earlier in the day.
The family said J.C. Garcia was trying to keep Gutierrez away from his parents when he was stabbed. The Garcias said Gutierrez then shoved Ben Garcia before driving away. The family rushed J.C. to a hospital in Los Alamos, about 19 miles away.
