History Adventuring

I've lived in the Phoenix, Arizona area for a long time now. And days like today, with the temperatures getting over 110 degrees, is a reminder that we are in the desert. This is the Sonoran Desert, the Salt River Valley. And if you're wondering why it's so hot, and if it's because of the freeways that were built here, or the buildings, unfortunately, you have it backwards. People didn't make the Salt River Valley hot, it's always been that way. It's in the Sonoran Desert, which has been brutally hot since the last Ice Age ended, about 10,000 years ago. People didn't make a desert here, it already was one, people made an oasis. When people get it backwards, it's a disservice to the people who created this oasis, from the Hohokams to the modern engineers. The first people who did it, hundreds of years ago, we call the Hohokam people. They knew that all they had to do was to catch the water that came crashing through the valley every year, store

If you've ever gone to the Fess Parker Double Tree Hilton in Santa Barbara, you know that it's on Calle Puerta Vallarta. Before it was built, in 1985, the street was called Punta Gorda. If you speak Spanish, you know that Punta Gorda means "Round Point" (or fat point) in English. Like all of the original names of Santa Barbara, it goes back to the days of old Spain, and "round point" was what, apparently, sailors saw as they approached that area. I've looked on maps and I don't see anything that looks like a round point, but I guess they did. At the very least, Punta Gorda isn't exactly a romantic name. And even people who don't speak much Spanish know that "gordo" means fat. And the first word is easily confused with a very bad word. Ask your Spanish-speaking friends, I'm not going to write it here. So Fess pulled some strings and got the name of the street changed. A wise thing to do! By the way, Fess Parker had to

If you lived in Phoenix during territorial times, you knew where Cactus Way was, halfway between Center (now Central Avenue) and Montezuma (now 1st Street).  it was also called Cactus Alley. No, it was never on any maps, but the gigantic scale of Phoenix as platted by William Hancock in 1870 meant that even the alleys were as big as many city city streets at the time. By the way, there was also Wall Street, and Melinda's Alley, also never on maps. Loring's Bazar in the 1880s. You're looking west on Washington towards Central, at Cactus Way. Cactus Way is where George Loring had his place of business, which he called Loring's Bazar (yes, he misspelled it that way). When the Ellingson building was built there, after Loring's building was gone (it was just adobe, anyway), it was the original location of Donofrio's. There used to be a plaque on that building, but when the building was torn down it went into storage, and is now at the Arizona Historical Soc

It's December 8th, 1918 in Phoenix, Arizona and I feel like going to a movie. I just saw the ad in the paper that said that it was free this afternoon at the Columbia. Come along with me. The Columbia is on 2nd Avenue and Adams, so it's an easy walk. According to the ad, it's the best ventilating theater in the city, disinfected after each performance. The 1918 flu epidemic is over, but it's still worrisome. It looks like there are three films that we can see: Fanny Ward (I'm a big fan of hers, aren't you?) in "Innocence", Douglas Fairbanks in "Manhattan Madness", Toto, the Champion Funny Man in "The Movie Dummy" and a short "America's Answer". Hey look, there's even a Mutt and Jeff Cartoon! Of course the movies are silent, but I know that you're an excellent reader, so you can read the title cards for me. I'm sure that no one in the theater will mind if you read them out loud - I've heard a lo

If you've ever lived in the Bay area, or knew anyone that did, you know that San Francisco is always called "the City". It's never, ever, "Frisco", unless of course you believe that Rice-a-Roni is the most popular dish there. I'm an old Angelino, and it wasn't until I moved back to Phoenix that I referred to where I lived as "Los Angeles". I lived in the Valley, or Canoga Park, or Winnetka. I worked in Woodland Hills, and one of my co-workers at the time lived in what she called "the City". No, it wasn't San Francisco, it was just a way of describing the original part of an area that had sprawled out so much that it was pointless to say "Los Angeles". Of course, outsiders still call everything from Santa Monica to practically Palm Springs "Los Angeles". And although I haven't lived there for a long time, I imagine that neighborhoods in downtown Los Angeles adopted different names, like Bunker Hil

When the IDS Center in downtown Minneapolis was being built, I was young enough to still be kind of a kid, and old enough to be fascinated by architecture, and design. My fascination with architecture started at a very young age, when I would assemble the models of buildings that were meant to go with a train set, except that I had no interest in trains. I liked buildings, and I still do. No, I never even considered being an architect (I can't do the math!) but that never stopped me from being fascinated by all types of buildings, especially "skyscrapers". If you lived in Minneapolis in the 1970s, you know that there was a lot going on downtown. Instead of turning its back on the downtown area, Minneapolis revitalized it. A nice long stretch of Nicollett was closed to cars, and only buses were allowed. And those buses were clean, ran on time, and there were a lot of them. So if you're wondering what someone who was years away from a driver's license was doi

If you're a fan of Phoenix architecture, you know about the Security Building, which is on Central Avenue and Van Buren. It was built in 1928 by Dwight Heard (yes, the Heard Museum guy) and has been in continuous use since then. The Security Building reflected in Valley Center I became aware of the Security Building when I worked in the Bank One Tower (now called Chase) in the 1990s. I was particularly fascinated by the penthouse on top. The penthouse, by the way, was added onto the building in 1958 by Walter Bimson, who had been the president of Valley National Bank (which became Bank one, which became Chase). But it was only a few days ago that one of my PhDs (Phoenix History Detectives) pointed out the burned-out light in the steeple on the top. And his idea was to see if the light could be restored. An inspiring idea! The Security Building in the 1930s, Central Avenue and Van Buren, Phoenix, Arizona. Note the steeple. Time-travel with me to 1928. The Security

I visited the Renaissance Phoenix Downtown Hotel this past weekend, which is on the northeast corner of Central Avenue and Adams, to look around a bit. The place looks great, and there are plans for even more renovation. Even though I describe the building as looking like a "cheese grater", I say it with affection. And the lobby, which includes historical information, looks great, too. I even like the name - The Renaissance. But to me, it will always be the Adams Hotel. That was the name it had when it was built in 1975, and what I remember when I worked downtown in the '90s. And it's the third Adams hotel built right there on that spot. Yes, the third one. The Adams Hotel in the 1890s, northeast corner of Central and Adams, Phoenix, Arizona The Adams Hotel fire in 1910 The first one was built in 1896, and burned down in 1910. It was quite a place - four stories tall and made mostly of wood. The next one was built in 1911, expanded in the 1920s, and

Yesterday I visited the Hilton Garden Inn in downtown Phoenix to see my sign. It's the original sign from the building, from 1931, and I'm glad to see it finally make its way home. My fascination for this building started in 1992 when I worked for Bank One in what is now the Chase Tower on the northeast corner of Central Avenue and Monroe. Our department, on the 31st floor, looked out over a very interesting old building, which I asked about, and very few people knew anything about. It was all boarded up, abandoned, and dirty, and since it was Art Deco, and I'd always had interest in art and architecture, I started asking around. Valley Center (now Chase Tower) under construction in 1972 Central Avenue and Monroe, Phoenix, Arizona. The Professional Building is at right There were still a few people around who remembered it, and even remembered working in it, when it was called "the Annex". It was the original headquarters for Valley National Bank, wh

The important thing is that no one got hurt in the fire. It's 1910, and we're watching the Adams Hotel burn to the ground. Stand behind the blanket with me, you can feel the heat way over here. Luckily, the fire is contained, and isn't spreading over to Dwight Heard's building there across the street. I don't suppose that the buildings on Melinda's Alley, just north of it, will be so lucky! Looking northeast from the Adams Hotel towards Camelback Mountain over Melinda's Alley before the fire, Phoenix, Arizona. It was quite a place, and Phoenix will never be the same. I'm sure that old George Luhrs would argue the point, but I'd say that it was the finest hotel in town. The Adams Hotel, northeast corner of Central and Adams, in the 1890s. Still, it was made of wood. And whether you blame the electrical wires strung all over the place, or old-timers putting out their cigars on the floor, at some point it seemed like it was going to

I feel like taking a walk. Come along with me. It's 1908 in Phoenix, Arizona, and I'm staying at the Vendome, which is on 3rd Avenue and Washington. It's a quiet day, so I thought I'd look around. The Vendome, 3rd Avenue and Washington Everybody's Tailor H. Hamburger, 3rd Avenue and Washington My first stop is to H. Hamburger, which is right next door to the Vendome. I have a special occasion coming up, so I'm buying a new suit. It will need to be dark, because I will be going to a funeral, and I'll get a bowler hat, which I can wear instead of the Stetson I usually wear. 3rd Avenue and Washington in 1908, Phoenix, Arizona Across Washington is the Dorris Opera House. Maybe I'll stop in and see the show tonight. I've heard good things about "The Cow-Puncher". I see some pipes lying on the ground. I wonder if there's going to be some road construction? Phoenix floods every year, so it would be wise for them to hav

Personally, I find the truth about Phoenix history to be fascinating. Like all true history, it's wildly complex, with millions of details. Real history isn't squeaky-clean and simplified. And it takes a lot of work to begin to understand it, which I am just beginning to. I don't trust easy answers, short misleading headlines, sound bites. Whenever I see that, I am immediately suspicious that someone is trying to sell me something, or put a particular spin on things. And I really can't blame them. Real history is just a long series of events happening. There is no plot, no planned drama. Things just happen. But for me, it's fascinating to learn about. The Phoenix history that I am most interested in is the stuff that people alive today can't possibly remember, that is, the history before World War II. And even the best PhD (Phoenix History Detective) that I know can only remember, first hand, back to the 1930s. And really, I don't like history books.

Let's go for a swim in the pool of the Adams Hotel in 1953. Put on your bathing cap, the water's fine. There's a photographer there at the end of the pool, and I'm pretty sure that we're going to be in the picture, maybe on a postcard. The "bathing beauties" have been posing like statues for quite some time. I suppose they're wearing the latest styles, but they aren't doing any swimming. One of the models is even wearing a "Bikini" - how risqué! Support Arizona history by becoming a patron on Patreon Click here to become a Patron! History Adventuring blog posts are shared there daily, also there's "then and now" photos, billboards, aerials, and super high-resolution photos of historic Phoenix, Arizona For an old hotel, built in 1911, this isn't bad. Of course they've added a lot of things since then, including this pool. I understand the original Adams Hotel burned down in 1910. It was wood, and this one

It's 2016, and while self-driving cars have been around for years, they aren't yet available for ordinary people like me. So, to get from Phoenix to Los Angeles, I have two choices: driving a car, or flying. If you've ever driven a non-self-driving car for about six hours straight, I gotta tell you, it's awful. Just imagine someone putting you in a room, in a chair that you can't get out of, and making you hold onto a wheel in front of you, and never allowing your gaze to stray away from looking in front of you except for a few seconds. You can't watch movies, you can't read a book, you certainly can't sleep. What you see of the scenery is very brief as you need to keep the the little mobile room you're in in-between a series of painted lines. For six hours. Yes, you can stop and "stretch your legs" once, maybe twice in those six hours, but that's it. I've done it many times and no matter how I try to keep myself entertained, w

If you lived in Phoenix in the '70s, '80s, and '90s, you knew Jerry Foster. He was a Phoenix superstar. If you don't know who Jerry is (yes, he's alive and well!), he flew a helicopter for the local news. And while that may not seem like much of a big thing nowadays, back when he did it, it was. And he did it with style! Since this is the day of the internet, as I was pondering writing this post, I did some research on Jerry. It told me a lot of things I didn't know, and that really don't matter to me. What matters is how darn cool that guy was, flying that chopper over Phoenix. I can hear his voice, I can see his daring rescues (which they wouldn't allow nowadays). Flying over Fountain Hills, Arizona One thing that I did read, which I very much agree with, is that Jerry was a cowboy. And in the very best sense of the word, he was, riding that helicopter like a bucking bronco! If you can't imagine a cowboy in a helicopter, then you don&

Since Jack Swilling is considered the founder of Phoenix, Arizona, because his company dug the first modern canal (in the 1860s - modern as compared to the Hohokams), it's only appropriate to give some credit to someone else who was in that party, Darrell Duppa. Like Jack, Darrell is a little bit hard to "clean up" and make into a "founding father" type. I like to imagine hanging around with these guys, who probably would have seemed a little "touched", if not downright crazy. Now waitaminute, I'm not trying to put these guys down. What they accomplished was the founding of an incredible city, Phoenix, Arizona. But if you stand in the Salt River Valley in the 1860s and look around, you really have to wonder about these guys? What were they thinking? I know what they were drinking. Time-travel with me. It's the late 1860s and an ex-Confederate named Jack Swilling has the idea of digging a canal out in some forsaken desert because he an

June 2nd, 1976, is one of the most horrific days in the history of Phoenix. It's the day of the car bombing of Arizona Republic investigative reporter Don Bolles. Like a lot of Phoenix old-timers, I have mixed feeling about talking about this. There are still a lot of people around who were there on that day, who saw what happened with their own eyes, who can still hear the sounds. It must ring in their ears, and I'm sure that they'd rather not have seen it. If you're just learning about it for the first time, yes, on June 2nd, 1976, in broad daylight, at about 11:30 a.m., in the parking lot of the Clarendon Hotel, a car bomb went off which several days later took the life of Don Bolles. As someone who is interested in Phoenix history, I resisted learning about this, or talking about this. Ultimately, it comes under the category of "unsolved crimes", and it seems to bring out those kind of comments that just make me cringe - you know, the kind of comm

If you like to time-travel, take a look at the tallest building in Phoenix, Valley Center, which is nowadays called Chase Tower, at Central Avenue and Monroe. And the best way to do it is to go back to the future. It's the late 1960s, and downtown Phoenix is really falling apart. And the biggest bank in town, Valley National Bank, has decided to step up and build the biggest building in the state right there in downtown Phoenix. Even though it's still the tallest building in Phoenix, Valley Center really doesn't look like much nowadays. Just another glass tower. But when it was designed, and when it was new, it was as futuristic as could be imagined. That's because it was designed to look like the future. Take a closer look and compare the building to movies made in the 1960s, like "2001, a Space Odyssey". There's a particular look and feel to what the future was supposed to look like. And while Valley Center was completed in 1973, it has that fee