When Santa Fe residents gather each spring to watch the towering effigy of Zozobra burn, few realize the man behind the tradition was a war‑scarred veteran who turned personal tragedy into a lasting cultural symbol.
Early life and wartime service
William “Will” Shuster was born on November 26, 1893, in Philadelphia, the middle child of three. Mischievous by nature, he loved experimenting with fire and gadgets, a curiosity that later guided him toward electrical engineering studies.
His college years were interrupted by World War I. After the Selective Service Act of 1917 required men aged 21‑30 to register, the 23‑year‑old Shuster volunteered for officer training, earned a commission, and was shipped to France. He fought in the brutal Meuse‑Argonne offensive, where mustard gas damaged two‑thirds of his lungs. Returning to Philadelphia in May 1919, doctors diagnosed him with tuberculosis and gave him a grim prognosis: only one year to live.
New Mexico’s healing desert
Defying medical advice, Shuster moved to New Mexico in 1920, seeking the dry climate’s reputed benefits for TB patients. He checked into one of the state’s earliest sanitariums, but his restless spirit kept him hiking the foothills instead of resting in bed. The fresh air and rugged landscape helped him recover, and he soon immersed himself in the burgeoning Santa Fe art scene.
Shuster joined forces with fellow artists Fremont Ellis, Walter Mruk, Jozef Bakos, and Willard Nash to form Los Cinco Pintores, Santa Fe’s first artist collective. The group built modest adobe homes southeast of the Plaza, sharing resources and profits because money was scarce. In Shuster’s diary he wrote that their collaboration was “about survival.”
The birth of Zozobra
In December 1923 the collective finally made a big sale, prompting a celebratory dinner at the historic La Fonda hotel. Yet the mood was subdued; Shuster sensed his friends were still burdened by personal worries. Determined to lift the gloom, he handed out sketch pads and asked each member to write down every trouble weighing on them.
When the pages were filled, Shuster lit a candle, set the written grievances ablaze, and declared the burdens gone. The dramatic act sparked the idea of a giant, burnable figure that could embody communal anxieties. That night, Shuster sketched the first Zozobra—an 80‑foot wooden effigy later christened “Old Man Gloom.” The tradition of burning Zozobra each spring has endured for a century, becoming a unifying ritual that reminds New Mexicans of resilience, faith, and the power of community.
Legacy
Will Shuster’s story is a testament to perseverance: a soldier who survived chemical warfare, a patient who defied a terminal diagnosis, and an artist who turned personal hardship into a public celebration of hope. Today, Zozobra’s fiery demise draws thousands of families, tourists, and faith‑filled citizens to the heart of Santa Fe, reinforcing the very values Shuster cherished—faith in a higher purpose, the strength of traditional families, and the liberty to confront and release collective burdens.
As New Mexicans gather around the glowing embers each year, they honor not only a beloved tradition but also the indomitable spirit of the man who first imagined that the flames could carry away their worries.
Original reporting: KOAT Albuquerque — read the source article.
