History Adventuring

I didn't get to see Phoenix, or Los Angeles, in the 1960s. And it really must have been a wonderful place. I'm not kidding here, it was the era of The Beach Boys, and of many freedoms that have gone away. It was an explosion of the use of cars, and of brand new suburbia. I really do wish I had seen it, but all I saw was the after-effects, that Phoenix and Los Angeles are still working to clean up. By the time I saw Phoenix and Los Angeles, they were in a mess. The air was so filthy that you could barely breathe. Neighborhoods that really weren't that old yet had been abandoned. I used to drive around and look at places and wonder why? I still have no real answers to why it all went so terribly wrong by the 1980s, but I am pleased to see that there has been real progress on the cleanup in both Phoenix and Los Angeles. It has cost some freedoms, but they were the freedom to drive cars without emission controls, to burn garbage in open air, and to generally make a mess

Time-travel with me. We are Pima Indians, centuries ago, walking along the Gila River. But no, there are no centuries, only seasons, and the river is simply the river. And we are the people. You can leave your history books behind. Labels, and sharp edges, only exist in those books. The river that we are walking along has looked the same for many, many, generations of our people. It floods, bringing life-giving water in the spring, which is now, and in the summer, it goes underground. This is the river that our people discovered when we first arrived here so many generations ago that there is no memory. The desert is a harsh place, but we survive here. This is our home. Like people all over the world, we have learned the art of agriculture, and as long as the water returns every season, we will stay here. Different people visit our home. They are of different tribes, dressed strangely, speaking strange languages. If they come in peace, we welcome them. If not, we don't. Th

I walked under the trees at Cactus Park yesterday. It's just a typical, ordinary park in Phoenix, on Cactus Road and 39th Avenue. It's one of those ordinary parks that people drive past every day. But yesterday I got to stop. I was returning from a visit to Metrocenter with a good friend of mine who had grown up in that area, and as we passed Cactus Park, he said what I've been hearing him say for years - how amazing the trees are. Really, they're just ordinary trees. They were planted as tiny saplings in 1972, and are now pretty darn big. They really aren't exceptional, except that this is Phoenix, where trees have become precious. If you get a chance to walk under the trees in Cactus Park. I highly recommend it. Then look around you at the neighborhoods, and imagine if the trees there had all been allowed to grow. The neighborhoods would be cool and shady, and they would have that indescribable feeling that you only get with shade trees. Yeah, I'll

For people who grew up in Phoenix, or even people like me who have lived there for a long time, the name of Metrocenter is really just something we take for granted. Of course, when the mall was built, in 1973, at I-17 and Dunlap, it was very far from being the center of the metropolitan area. Of course, the developers had high hopes. Time travel with me. Although Metrocenter Mall opened in the 1970s, it was clearly a 1960s design. The kind of design that was inspired by science fiction movies, like "2001, a Space Odyssey". The way the future was supposed to look. It must have absolutely blown people away, especially kids who saw it when it was new. I visited Metrocenter Mall yesterday with a friend of mine who grew up in that neighborhood in the 1970s. It was fascinating to see all of it from his point of view, from riding his bike with his friends past the farmland and open fields, to seeing the construction of what must have been astonishing to see. I asked my fri

Yes, you should conserve water, even if you live in Phoenix, Arizona. The reason is different from what most people have heard, but water conservation really is a good thing. I do it myself, and I recommend for my neighbors. My garden is a xeriscape, shaded by trees, with no grass. If you've lived in Phoenix for a few years, you know that the valley gets not only a fair amount of rain, both in winter and summer, and it gets flooding from the uplifted areas north, and especially northeast of it. In fact, so much water has flowed through the valley over the years that the main concern that Phoenix historically has had to face was flooding. And thankfully the Maricopa County Engineers have mostly fixed that, so much so that most people who live in the valley are unaware of the gigantic flood control projects everywhere. My favorite is the diversion channel which runs north of the Arizona Canal, and was completed in 1994. It's so gigantic that you could stand there throwing fo

I like Phoenix. It's my town. I've lived there for a long time, and I've collected a lot of old photos. I know about its history, good and bad. And yeah, I know that compared to places back east, which have places like Liberty Bells, or Europe, which has stuff like castles, the history of Phoenix isn't really all that impressive. But like I say, it's my town. So I don't expect tourists to crowd into some of the places that I consider historically significant in Phoenix, like where the candy store was. I know that the city isn't going to spend a lot of money on an elaborate plaque when there are a whole lot more important things it needs to spend its budget on. So, I'm not trying to convince anyone anything here, I just like these places. And one of the most historically significant places in Phoenix that I know of is Washington at Cactus Alley. If you're a hardcore Phoenix history buff, you've heard of Cactus Alley. It was never listed tha

As an old marketing guy (and I really do mean old here, my hair has gone completely grey), I am aware of advertising, coupons, discounts, all of that kind of thing, at museums. And although these things are wonderful for the right people, it may not be for you. It all depends on your financial situation, and your attitude. I like museums. Even when they're free, I donate a buck or two. Most of the museums that I visit have volunteers working there, or young people who may be working for the absolute minimum that the law allows. I look at the list of people who have donated, maybe written into the bricks on the sidewalk, or on displays hanging somewhere in the museum, and I want to be that guy. Of course, I'm not wealthy, so there's no question of any museum naming its latest wing after me. And I am very much in favor of museums doing what they can to make their collections accessible to people who don't really have much money to throw around, like students, or ma

As a kid in Minnesota, I remember seeing Arizona Highways magazine. Like many people all over the world, it was hard for me to imagine a place that could possibly be so beautiful. And it's only recently that I learned the real reason that the magazine was published in the first place. In 1925, when the first issue of Arizona Highways was published, it was a "wish list" for good highways that could take people to these beautiful places. The Federal Government was just barely getting into the road-building business, and it was important to get the word out. So a magazine was created just to show how beautiful Arizona is, and how cool it would to be able to have good highways to get around there. By the way, California Highways and Public Works magazine came out at about the same time. But Arizona Highway s has evolved to a point undreamed of by the original publishers. It became more than a magazine that was recommending highways, it became a showcase for the beau

I visited Scottsdale's Museum of the West today and I loved it. I enjoy learning about history, especially of the West, and I appreciated the balance between the West of the Imagination, and the Real West presented at this museum. No, I'm not kidding here, please let me explain. The West of the Imagination is that wonderful thing created by Buffalo Bill, Roy Rogers, and John Wayne. It's a glamorous West of daring cowboys and noble Indians. And I gotta admit, I just love it. But please understand that I know it's just fiction. But that's OK - it's great fiction. The museum I visited today was an awesome balance of both the West of the Imagination and the Real West. There were signed photos of John Wayne, and a genuine Winchester '73. I like historical accuracy, but I'm not one of those people who says, "well actually..." and then ruins everything for everyone. I don't want to be that guy. So I embrace the West of Imagination. Ever

I just feel better around water. I grew up in Minneapolis, the city of lakes, I lived in Santa Barbara, which is on the Pacific Ocean. And since I live in Phoenix now, I seek out the water of the Salt River. But if you've made the mistake of looking for the water of the Salt River by reading a map that shows “Salt River” on it, you are only seeing where the water used to be. Since 1883 it has been re-channeled into the canals, which are the true rivers of Phoenix . Yes, the canals are the water of the Salt River, that flow all year 'round. Before the canals were built, the Salt River would flood and dry up every year (technically that's called a riparian area). But nowadays the water flows gently all of the time. The water flows from northeast to southwest. And yes, there are fish in it. Also the stray shopping cart or two, as it flows through the city, because people do that kind of stuff. It's a gentle current, and if you really want to see it, go to the Ariz

Let's walk along the Arizona Canal in 1895. We're at the Granite Reef Dam, which is on the Salt River, on the Salt River Pima Indian Community. We're walking west. The canal was completed in 1885, so it's been there for ten years. It's used by, and protected by the Pimas , and goes all of the way across the northern part of the Salt River Valley to Peoria, Arizona. We'd better get going, it's a long walk! The Arizona Canal was privately funded, and dug by hand, using man and mule-power. More about the men who build the Arizona Canal . And even ten years after its completion, it's waaaayyyyy out in the desert. As we cross over what is now Pima Road out of the Indian Reservation to what is now Scottsdale, there's hardly a trace of life, except cactus and Gila Monsters. Watch where you step! The canal does a sharp bend right about there and starts heading south where it goes around the base of Camelback Mountain. At about where 56th Street and

Ride along with me, and let's drive along the highway all the way through the greater Phoenix area in the 1940s. I'm going to just call it "the highway" because it had a lot of names. In fact, if you tried to follow the signs, it would have been a confusing muddle, but since there was no other road anything like that road anywhere near that road, you knew that you were on the right road. Take a look at a map and run your finger between the town of Buckeye all of the way to Apache Junction. If you've chosen a perfectly-straight route, or a freeway, you aren't really in the 1940s in your imagination. The first thing that you need to think about is the need to have reliable auto service just about every few miles. One of the things that we take for granted today is how reliable our cars are, and how little maintenance they need, as compared to the cars of the old days. So, just jumping in your car, getting on a freeway, turning on the A/C, and plugging in

Every time my friends from California visit me, I see Phoenix, and Arizona, through their eyes. And while there are a lot of things that they like, such the abundance of parking spaces, I do notice that there is always that question hanging in the air - “why would anyone want to live in such a harsh climate?” Now don't get me wrong, I love Phoenix. And the climate hasn't been a problem for me. My career has been spent in air-conditioned buildings, I have always had an air-conditioned car, etc. It may get to 115 degrees out there, but I'm in cool comfort all of the time. Yesterday, as I was staring out into the desert at the Casa Grande Ruins, I was asking myself again “what were people doing here?” Yes, the river flowed right nearby, there appeared to be plenty of accommodations for living, and even places where games were played (I love that part!), but really, it was in the Sonoran Desert, which has been an extremely harsh place since the last ice age, 10,000 years

If you went shopping with someone in Phoenix before the 1920s, probably you would have seen them go into a store, pay nothing, and leave empty-handed. Today, this seems ridiculous, but it explains the concept of "cash and carry", which replaced the old system of "pay later and have it delivered". In Phoenix, a typical store to do "cash and carry" early was Pay'n Takit. Unless you rode into town in a buckboard, delivery was expected from any grocery. This is how it worked: You walked into the store with your list, the clerk filled the order (you didn't walk around the store and pick up things), it was put on your "tab", which was credit given by the store itself, free of interest, and delivery was arranged, usually the same day. It was a wonderfully convenient system. Unfortunately, it had costs associated with it, as you can imagine, that 20th century marketing experts saw as wasteful. And if the free delivery, and the free credit, c

I love old photos, especially of Phoenix, Arizona. So I collect them, and look at them a lot. Mostly I'm trying to figure out where the buildings were, that sort of thing. I look at buildings, streets, and mountains. And then I started noticing something - life. In the last couple of years I've discovered some pretty awesome high-resolutions scans from places like the Duke University, and ASU. And while mostly these scans were done to record the buildings, there's life to be seen there, and it's fun to see. Since I have a nice big 21" iMac, and Photoshop, I can really zoom into these images. And what I am seeing fascinates me, more than just the buildings, the streets, and the mountains. There are all of the ordinary things of life, cars going by, people walking, advertising, signs, businesses, restaurants. When I find these things, I zoom in, crop the photo, and call them a "slice of life". So I guess this makes kind of like a street photographe

Take a look at the sign in the photo above, and tell me what you see. No, there's nothing special about it, and there are thousands just like it all over the Phoenix area. And no, I didn't Photoshop anything into it, and there's nothing hidden that you have to squint your eyes to see. But my experience is that to most people who go past these signs a million times, they don't see what I see. OK, hopefully you see it. These things tend to pop out more in photos than "in real life". It's the name of the shopping center. Of course, no one in their right mind would direct you to the Market Center shopping center, they would just say over by Sprouts, or Brake Masters. If you do see these things, then sorry, you're kind of weird. I see them all of the time. And there are thousands of them. If you're a neighbor of mine, in Glendale, you may be familiar with Ted's Plaza , which has been on the northwest corner of 47th Avenue and Olive since the

I dusted the cobwebs off of my golf clubs yesterday and set out with a good friend to go to a driving range. Well, that was the idea. We never actually got to a driving range, but we did get to a golf course. It's a course that I've played many times, on Indian School Road and 59th Avenue. Originally it was built as part of John F. Long's master-planned community, Maryvale, which he named after his wife . But time had not been kind to the old golf course, and in the last few years it's needed a bit of, uh, freshening up. Like Encanto golf course, it was flat as a pool table, but that never really bothered me. I liked the tall trees, which were often magnets for my ball, and the wide open spaces. If you go look at the old course now, you will be surprised - it's absolutely gorgeous. Not only is there a shiny new clubhouse, the course itself has been changed by bringing in an enormous amount of dirt, and changing the shape from flat to curvaceous. The fairways

As a former teacher, and just plain someone who prides himself on not blurting out offensive stuff, I am naturally very careful about using terms which many people consider offensive, or that have really become very offensive over the years. But my interest in Phoenix history often compels me to use these terms, within context. If you're taking the time to read this, you already understand, but I want to talk about it, anyway. I'm fascinated by history, particularly the history of Phoenix. And times have really changed. The buildings have changed, the people have changed, the language has changed. And it's been mostly for the better, believe me. The "old days" in Phoenix were extremely harsh, with some nasty and violent behavior. But of course if you've read about that, you already know. And no, I have no desire to go back to those days, I just want to visit them and learn more. My favorite sources are original documents. You know, old photos, old newsp

If you work inside of the tallest building in Arizona, Chase Tower, at Central Avenue and Monroe, take a look up at the ceilings. They were lowered in 1990, just a bit, because of the asbestos up there, which is still there. Now, don't panic. The asbestos, which was put there in 1972 when Valley Center was built, is still doing its job, protecting the building from any fires that may spread. And it's only disturbed asbestos that's hazardous (when you breathe in the fibers), so as long as it's sealed up, it's OK. In a building as big as that one, trying to remove asbestos would have made a terrible mess, so they just lowered the ceilings a little and sealed it up. The reason I know this is that when I first started working for Valley Bank around that time, different departments were relocated, for months, all over the valley. The Marketing Department, where I started, was at Corporate Center across the freeway from MetroCenter. You know, over by Fajitas. When

I live Glendale, a suburb of Phoenix, Arizona, which is in the Sonoran Desert. Most of the year the weather is glorious. It never snows here, the sun shines just about every day. I think the Chamber of Commerce says 360 days a year, but it may be only 359 days. People come from all over the world to visit the resorts here, and to play golf. But for three to four months of the year, it's insanely hot. And surprisingly, that's an advantage to people like me. I've lived where the weather is nice all of the time, like Southern California, and have seen some very serious drawbacks. Of course, if you've only lived in wealthy neighborhoods, this won't matter, but I've lived in some, uh, sketchy, places. And while my house in the suburbs is pretty respectable, I'm certainly not one of the "rich folks". Harsh conditions means that a fair amount of upkeep is needed on your house just to keep it comfortable. In Southern California, you can have everyth

I moved to Phoenix from Minneapolis in 1977. I was alone, determined to make it on my own, so I lived in some pretty, uh, inexpensive neighborhoods. So, my memory of Phoenix of that time is not one of the perfection of youth, it was the shock of just how horrible Phoenix was. First of all, it was hot. Unbelievably, unbearably, hot. My little apartment (the Saguaro Apartments, pictured above, near 7th Street and Indian School Road) had an "air conditioner" that just rattled and made noise (and did nothing else), so sometimes I would hang out at the public library just to be cool. I wish I could have slept there! The streets flooded when it rained. It didn't take much to turn the streets into lakes. I wondered why there were no storm drains. Even the parking lots flooded. It was as if whoever built all of this had never seen rain. The bridges fell down when there was water in the river. I got to see the "100-year flood" and the "500-year flood"

One of the things that everybody who lives in Phoenix, Arizona agrees on is that it's always changing. You turn around and the old buildings you recognized are gone. But unless you are over 150 years old, or are an obsessive history-buff like me, you don't realize that the version of the city you see has changed several times. And each time it is has changed, the city has become virtually unrecognizable to the people who knew it "back in the day". Phoenix version 1.0 - Oddly enough, Phoenix didn't even start where downtown Phoenix is today. In 1868, it started with a settlement at where 40th Street and Van Buren is now. Google "Mill City" or "Pumpkinville". Really. Phoenix version 1.1 - Then the Phoenix Townsite was established in 1870, several miles west of the original settlement. There really wasn't all that much of a difference between the Townsite and the Settlement, mostly adobe buildings. Whatever building materials had to b

Like most people who live in Phoenix, Arizona, I have Indian friends. And I drive on Indian School Road. I've even been to some of the casinos, which are on the Indian Reservations. And I know about the Apaches and the Navajos. The Apaches I learned about from watching movies as a kid, and the Navajos I learned about from reading Arizona Highways. But my fascination with the history of Phoenix has lately been leading me to learn about the most important Indian tribe to the success of Phoenix, Arizona, the Pimas. To really understand the Pimas, you have to turn your Arizona history inside-out, and to try to see it from their point of view. They were a group of people living along the Gila River, just south of present-day Phoenix, for hundreds of years. They watched the invasion of Spain, and then Mexico, and then the United States, to their land. And yes, they fought against violent invasions from anyone, including other Indian tribes, but when they recognized friends, they hel

If you've lived in the Phoenix, Arizona area for a while, like I have, you will find yourself saying, “whatever happened to the old buildings?” And you don't even have to be all that much interested in history, you may just be wondering what happened to your favorite restaurant, which all of the sudden has disappeared and been replaced by a Walgreens on that corner. I like to time travel. And if my calculations are correct, future generations of Phoenicians will be asking, “whatever happened to the old Walgreens?” And that's because Phoenix tears down its old buildings all of the time, and has been doing that since it was founded, in 1870. The reason is growing pains, which Phoenix has had since the day it was founded. It is quite a success story! I collect old photos of Phoenix, and I am seeing a pattern. Buildings go up, more people move in, buildings are torn down down, new buildings are built. It's what I have always called Phoenix “re-inventing itself”. It

I've done a lot of hiking, and like my brother in California, I take only photographs and leave only footprints. But I've never done the type of wilderness hiking that he does. My hiking is urban, which sound kind'a ridiculous to a lot of people. Nowadays I call it history adventuring, but I bring the same mindset to it. I don't vandalize, I don't damage, the places I visit. I'm not out to pick up souvenirs, nor do I want to scratch my name on the things that I see. My hiking doesn't take me through precious wilderness, but where I do go I treat with equal respect. I want to see things, I don't want to change them. I don't knock things over, nor do I stack things up. Needless to say, I don't throw my trash all over the hiking trail, nor do I disturb things that ought not to be disturbed. If this is your mindset, then please walk with me. There is so much to see, once you let your mind separate from the ordinary things that so many other pe

As a history adventurer, I mostly focus on pioneer stuff in Phoenix. That is, from the first canals being dug by Jack Swilling and his crew in 1867, to when Arizona became a state in 1912, and so on. But you really can't walk around Phoenix, and appreciate its history, without understanding a little bit about the Hohokams. Most of the people I know who grew up in Phoenix had to go on field trips in school and were taught about Pueblo Grande, the Hohokams, that sort of thing. And I've visited these museums, and read the books, which make a serious effort to understand from what little traces have been left behind. That's archeology, I know. But I'm not an archeologist, I'm a time-traveler, so I'll tell you what I've found. Nobody really knows much. Sorry, but even the big display signs often say something like "it's difficult to say..." And it is. That there were people living in these places long ago is what we do know. What their buildi