A deadly drive: Wife of I-10 dust-storm crash victim speaks out
Joseph Malley was killed in a February I-10 dust storm crash. His wife recalls their last call — and asks why no one is fixing this deadly highway.
He left home in a purple pickup. She warned him about the wind. What happened next is part of a growing crisis on this lonely stretch of highway in southwest New Mexico.
Diana Alba Soular, Southern New Mexico Journalism Collaborative
SOUTHERN NEW MEXICO - The last time Janie Malley saw her husband Joseph, 45, alive was the morning of Feb. 27 at their home in Rodeo, a tiny community in the desert of New Mexico’s Bootheel.
It was a typical work and school day with one exception: High winds were already picking up as their family prepared to set out from home. She helped her kids – ages 10, 13 and 17 – get ready for school, and they headed to the bus stop in her vehicle.
En route home, she passed her husband, who was starting his daily commute. Behind the wheel of his flashy purple-and-yellow F-150 pickup, he was bound for Lordsburg, about a 50-minute drive, to help install some new speakers at the high school football stadium for his job.
“I waved at him and I blew him kisses, and he blew kisses back at me,” she said. “I called him and I told him: ‘You need to be really careful because it's windy. Have a good day and call me when you get to Lordsburg.’”
Joseph did call her about 30 minutes or so later from a truck stop in Road Forks, where Hwy. 80 connects to Interstate 10, just east of the New Mexico-Arizona state line. The gas station is one of the few places to fuel up in the remote area. Joseph reminded his wife to feed their animals, and she told him was “already on it."
“And I was laughing and joking around with him, and I said ‘I love you. Please be careful,’” Janie recounted.
“I love you, too, and I will,” he replied.
“And that was the last time I spoke to him,” Janie said.
One of the most deadly stretches
Malley then entered a roughly 20-mile section of I-10 described by researchers as one of the deadliest stretches in the American Southwest for dust-storm crashes. The path crosses the Lordsburg Playa, an expanse of dry, dust-enshrouded lakebed whose origins stretch back to the Ice Age. Dozens of travelers have been killed over the decades in such storms, which experts warn are becoming more frequent because of climate change.
This I-10 corridor experiences frequent closures because of dust causing reduced visibility – and increased driving hazards. Authorities in both Arizona and New Mexico are accustomed to blockading the highway and rerouting traffic onto smaller, two-lane routes, such as north from Lordsburg toward Safford and back to I-10. Travelers must detour dozens of miles from their original route. And the traffic causes congestion on small rural roads that weren’t designed for interstate traffic volume, posing its own risks.
RELATED: Why I-10 near Lordsburg keeps killing drivers
Vehicles traveling I-10 across Southern New Mexico in 2017 totaled about 15,600 daily, about one-third of which were commercial trucks, according to state data.
While known to be dangerous during high winds, the corridor was not yet blocked when Joseph started driving it that day in late February, entering the eastbound lanes toward Lordsburg.
The Malleys had moved from Lordsburg to Rodeo in the fall of 2024 after Joseph’s boss had offered an opportunity for the family to move to a house on an acreage there and become caretakers. So the dust storm of Feb. 27 — earlier in the season than a typical spring wind event — may have been among his first encounters, if not his first, commuting across the playa during such turbulent weather.
An unmistakable ‘Purple People Eater’ truck
Joseph had spent part of high school in Lordsburg. But it was in West Virginia where he met Janie in 2007 when she was attending college. They married a year later. The family had experienced a number of ups and downs, and their move cross-country by bus to Lordsburg in 2019 offered a chance for a fresh start. Joseph remembered how he’d enjoyed living in New Mexico about two decades prior.
Janie said her husband had always had a strong work ethic. He soon launched his own handyman business and picked a mascot from one of his favorite childhood films — the “Purple People Eater.” He needed a truck that fit the theme, so he spray-painted his F-150 purple and applied yellow lettering. It was easily recognizable on the streets of Lordsburg, a city of 2,100 people. While Joseph had a serious side, his pickup embodied the silly and fun aspects of his personality, his wife said.
On Feb. 27, it was the bright purple-and-yellow truck that first responders immediately recognized when they reached the scene of an 11-vehicle pileup, instigated by the intense dust storm. Semi-trucks and passenger vehicles lay mangled together.
Janie and her 17-year-old daughter had both tried calling Joseph that morning but with no success. Janie wasn’t immediately worried, assuming her husband was working on the stadium speaker system and wasn’t available.
Meanwhile, authorities were able to reach Joseph’s boss, who got a message through to Janie to reach out to authorities. Police then relayed the terrible news.
‘He died in service of others’
While the color of Joseph’s vehicle was recognizable at the scene, the shape was not. A tractor-trailer had slammed into it, leaving it “like an accordion,” Janie said.
She said her husband somehow survived the immediate impact, and he exited his truck, possibly to try to assist other crash victims. Joseph had served in the National Guard and the National Guard Reserves, and she said it was his nature to want to help people whenever possible.
“He died in service of others,” Janie said. “That's what I see it as.”
When Joseph left his truck, he was struck by multiple other vehicles – one of the most disturbing details of the incident. His body was found in pieces, his wife said.
Two other people from Florida were also killed in the pileup.
An optimistic future cut short
After his handyman work, Joseph had taken a job working in IT for a small company in Lordsburg. His boss, Kim Kvamme, who’s also a bishop in a local church, had become somewhat of a mentor to Joseph. He said Joseph had a difficult childhood and faced other life challenges, but, after a lot of hard work, felt that key pieces were falling into place.
Kvamme said the Malleys move to Rodeo was “something he'd always dreamed about, having a place with land and getting his kids to live out in the country.
“He was so optimistic about the future for his family and his marriage,” he said. “He felt that finally life was paying off for him.”
Kvamme said he was stunned when he received word Joseph had died in a crash.
“I knew that would have a huge impact on his family,” he said. “I just thought about how much I was going to miss his association. He had a humor and dry wit about him. I kind of inherited a dark humor from my dad. So, Joe kind of got me.”
Kvamme experienced a close call firsthand years ago driving the same stretch of I-10 where Joseph died. He recalled that, in a matter of 20 seconds, winds picked up and dust enveloped the roadway.
“I felt the impression – I need to get out of here,” he said.
He got out of harm’s way by exiting the roadway and driving on the adjacent land back toward an exit to Animas that he’d just passed. He later learned a multi-vehicle pileup happened minutes after he got off the road.
In June 2017, six people were killed in a 25-vehicle pileup between the New Mexico-Arizona line and Lordsburg. At least 41 people died on this stretch of highway between 1965 and 2020, according to a group of researchers led by R. Scott Van Pelt, an erosion expert with the USDA’s Agricultural Research Service. About half of those fatalities have occurred since 2012.
Those numbers don’t include the dust storm-related crashes of the past five years, including the one that claimed Joseph’s life.
A family mourns their husband, father
An outpouring of support from Hidalgo County residents in the wake of Joseph’s death has helped buoy his family. Financial support from a GoFundMe campaign helped get his remains back to West Virginia. It was his wish to be buried next to the couple’s daughter who died in infancy. Joseph’s ex-wife, with whom he also shared a child, attended the memorial service and told Janie she was “the best thing that ever happened to him.” Janie said she “broke down” upon hearing that reminder of just how strong their bond was.
Several dozens of people attended another memorial service in New Mexico, with another 100 or so tuned in online.
“His childhood wasn't the best, and he fought for everything he had,” she said. “And he never thought he was good enough. He'd say, if something were to happen to him, nobody would even care.”
But seeing the turnout, she looked upward with a quick message to her late husband: “‘Ha, you were wrong.”
Janie’s three children have been remarkably resilient in the wake of her husband’s tragic death, although she’s seeking counseling to help them cope with grief. She said she’s grateful for assistance from her church and donations to the crowdfunding campaign. Police officers and Lordsburg officials often stop her when she’s in town to ask her how she’s faring.
“I do know that Joe's death really impacted this community really badly,” she said. “It's a small community; when one person's hurting we all hurt.”
His absence is taking a toll on the family financially. Janie had been attending Cochise College in Douglas, Arizona, working toward a degree. And Joseph was the main income earner. She’s expecting an insurance payment, but has been scrambling to make ends meet. Her church has helped her a lot, but she doesn’t like asking for assistance.
“I hated to, but I had to sell some of his tools to be able to pay the electric bill and other bills and stuff this month,” she said earlier this month. “Now, my electric bill for May is due. They're threatening to cancel my insurance on my car.”
‘It’s sad nothing is being done’
Janie said Joseph was a jack-of-all-trades. His diverse interests ranged from hunting to crocheting. He’d taken up drawing and tattoo artistry, too. He was midway through building his own workshop when he died. His handyman tools, still stashed at the family’s home, and some incomplete home improvement projects serve as constant reminders of his passing. Janie has reluctantly had to sell some of the tools to help pay bills.
His absence weighs heavily on the Malleys.
“He was the rock of this family,” she said. “He was the strongest of this family. And now I'm trying to be as strong as he was, but I don't think anybody can be as strong as he was.”
Janie said Joseph was her soul mate, and she has difficulty imagining herself remarrying.
Her oldest child, Serenity, who’s a junior in high school, is hoping to work with her shop class teacher to create a welded memorial that can be placed on the roadside near where Joseph was killed.
Meanwhile, questions remain about her husband’s death. Why wasn’t I-10 closed that day? And mostly, how many people must die before officials solve the problem? Janie said she hasn’t heard from anyone in an official capacity, aside from someone who let her know about a crash report being filed.
No one has reached out to express concern or to pledge to address a crisis that will continue to kill other people’s wives, husbands, fathers and mothers.
“How many families have to lose their loved ones before somebody does something about that stretch of road?” she said. “I see all the memorial markers of people who passed away on that highway to Lordsburg. There's little crosses everywhere. It's sad nothing is being done.”
Diana Alba Soular is the project editor and manager of the Southern New Mexico Journalism Collaborative, a partnership of local news organizations. Contact her at diana@nmlocalnews.org. For more info, visit SouthNMnews.org or SurNMnoticias.org.