History Adventuring

Banks are pretty darned important to the growth, and continued health, of a city. In Arizona, especially Phoenix, the most important bank was Valley National Bank. Valley Bank in 1911, when it was on Adams between Central and 1st Avenue. As someone who worked for Valley Bank, I'll admit to having a bit of prejudice for that bank. Although I really don't know anything about banking, I was a Graphic Designer in the Marketing Department. I worked on brochures, and that kind of stuff. But I like the history of Phoenix, and I got curious enough a few years ago to read the dullest book that I've ever read, called "Financing the Frontier", which is about the history of Valley Bank in Arizona. A friend of mine bought it for me, and while I do appreciate it, and learning more about banking in Arizona, it's not exactly a page-turner. The headquarters for Valley National Bank in the 1940s, when it was in the Professional Building, Central and Monroe. If

To me, Phoenix has always been a city designed around cars. I live in the suburbs, and I remember that the most important thing to me when I bought my house was the garage. I love cars, and I've owned a lot of them. I've always had the "cowboy" mentality, of never walking when I could ride. So it wasn't until I started learning about old-time Phoenix that I realized that it had been destroyed by cars. Like most people in Phoenix, I had no idea that Phoenix was an old as it is. I figured that it had pretty much started when the oldest malls were built, like back in the '50s. Or that maybe it was as old as the '20s, because of the old buildings that I used to see downtown. Actually, Phoenix goes back to 1870. Time-travel with me to a Phoenix before automobiles. I'm making the distinction there, because there were cars, it's just that they were Street Cars. It's 1905, and we can go anywhere that we need to without the need for anything but

Something that I recently discovered which helps me a lot of with my exploration of old-time Phoenix is Sanborn maps. They have wonderful detail, but they can be kind of confusing to figure out. Since I'm exploring Block 77, come along with me and let's see what we can see on this. By the way, these maps were created as part of a way for insurance companies to pay for fire damage. The idea was to carefully diagram what was exactly where before a fire so that the damage payment could be paid out correctly. Of course, nowadays, they're just really cool detailed descriptions of the buildings, which is fun for time-travelers like me. We're in 1893 Phoenix on Block 77, and to get yourself oriented, this block is where the western half of CityScape is now. At the top, where it says "Porter Building" is Washington, to the left is 1st Avenue, to the right is Central Avenue, and at the bottom, where it says "Undertaker" is Jefferson. Back in 1893, th

If you've recently moved to Phoenix, Arizona, it may be a bit uncomfortable. Of course, the first thing you'll need to do is to make sure that you have good air conditioning, especially in your car. It gets insanely hot in Phoenix! But being comfortable living somewhere runs deeper than that. I see people who never seem to get comfortable in Phoenix, and I think that I can help. I moved to Phoenix from Minneapolis, Minnesota, when I was 19. Aside from the first lesson (getting decent air conditioning), I tried to get comfortable with the Phoenix culture. And, by the way, if you've never lived anywhere except Phoenix, you really don't see a culture, it's just the way things are done. But to a midwestern boy on his own, it was all very different, and strange, and wonderful. The first thing that I did was to eat some Mexican food. I had friends who took me to La Cucaracha, which was on 7th Street and Indian School. I know that I liked it right away, and I recall

If you've spent much time exploring Territorial Phoenix, that is, between 1870 and 1912, you probably already know about streets that weren't on any maps, but people knew about anyway, such as Melinda's Alley, or Cactus Way. But you may not have noticed Wall Street. It was in Block 77, the original business district of Phoenix. It's where the west half of CityScape is now, and where Patriot's Square Park was from 1976 to 2009. Wall Street ran north and south between Central Avenue and 1st Avenue from Washington to Jefferson in what was originally called Block 77. By the way, Phoenix was divided into 98 blocks when it was first laid out, which went from Van Buren to Jackson, and from 7th Avenue to 7th Street. Phoenix Block Map from 1881 The names of the streets in Phoenix originally were Presidents (east-west streets) and Indian Tribes (north-south streets). They were, of course, just marks in the dirt, and the little adobe buildings that were originally

Like most people my age, I've never been on a Street Car. To me they're only things that my parents' generation remembers, or something I've seen in movies. And my interest in them was sparked by a movie in the 1980s called "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?", which was about a conspiracy to buy up all of the Red Cars, tear up the tracks, and replace them with something called a "freeway". Of course, it was just a movie, but I started doing some research on the Street Cars of Los Angeles, and sure enough, they just suddenly disappeared in the 1940s, just like in Phoenix. Of course it makes a great conspiracy story, and the reality is, sadly, much more more dull. I'm fascinated with learning the real story, so here it is: the Street Cars got old and rickety, were expensive to repair, were unreliable and uncomfortable, and people just stopped using them not long after gasoline-powered automobiles, and buses, became common. In fact, if you can imagine

If you live in Phoenix, Arizona and haven't been on the Light Rail, well, you should. I had to go downtown last month and sit around for two days before being dismissed from Jury Duty and I decided to take the opportunity to use the Light Rail. And it's wonderful. Now waitaminute, I'm not promoting Light Rail for commuting, although I'm sure it's fine for that, and many people use it that way. I'm talking about adventuring on the Light Rail, and seeing Phoenix. If you're a middle-aged guy like me (which I guess is what I'm going to call myself until I'm 100), you probably don't even think about using the Light Rail. I have a perfectly good car in my garage, and all I gotta do is walk into my garage and drive anywhere I want to go without having to do anything but hold onto the steering wheel. Support Arizona history by becoming a patron on Patreon Click here to become a Patron! History Adventuring blog posts are shared there daily, al

I'm always exploring, and recently I started poking around Block 77 in Phoenix. It was the original business district, and its where the western block of CityScape is now, and where Patriot's Square Park was from 1976 to 2009. Block 77 is between Washington and Jefferson and Central and 1st Avenue. If you're wondering why I'm calling it Block 77, it's because the original platting of Phoenix in 1870 was divided up by Blocks. The original town was laid out by William Hancock, the County Surveyor, who walked from the northeastern edge (what is now 7th Street and Van Buren) and counted off blocks to be sold to create the city. When he got to Central Avenue (what was originally called Centre), he turned south and walked back to the eastern edge of town again. Then, as you see in the map from 1881, he kept going, and created what seems like strange zig-zag numbering system, until you realize that he was walking, and he stopped in what would be the center of town e

If you're interested in Phoenix history, you know about Hattie Mosher. If you're just getting started, you'll meet her. You can't miss her. You can Google information about her, but like most stuff on the internet, there's just too much, so I'll try to explain her briefly here. The Lount Ice Plant in 1905, Phoenix Arizona. This is where Hattie's fortune came from. Sam Lount was her dad. The first thing that you need to know about her is that she lived in Phoenix and inherited a lot of wealth from her father. I won't do the "equivalent to today's dollars", but it was a ton of bucks. Her dad sold ice in Territorial Phoenix, so you can imagine that he made a LOT of money. So she inherited a ridiculous amount of money, and land, too. The land she inherited included several square blocks of what is now downtown Phoenix, from Central to 2nd Street, and from Taylor to Van Buren. Her house was there, right in the middle of where the

I collect old photos of Phoenix and Los Angeles. I started when I lived in Hollywood in my mid-twenties, and got the "L.A. Hee-Bee-Gee-Bees", which was caused by the fact that it was all too big, too crowded, and too overwhelming for me. And while I was at the library up in Beachwood Canyon, I saw a photo of Hollywood in the 1920s, when it wasn't quite so crowded. And I found the greatest medicine that I've ever had - the calming effect of what I now call "history adventuring". Hollywood, California in the 1920s But since I collect old photos, it confuses a lot of people into thinking that I just like old photos. I don't. If you show me a bunch of photos of, for example, Seattle in the 1940s, I have no interest, sorry. Now don't get me wrong, I'm sure that the photos are great, but I've never been there. And for me, they have no relevance. When I saw that photo of Hollywood there on the wall of the library, I was right there. I cou

I remember the first time I saw Phoenix. I was 19 years old and had driven there from Minneapolis, Minnesota in August. I really had no idea what to expect. I had a vague idea that it might have sand dunes, and look like the Sahara Desert, or it might have look like some old Western town from the movies. It really didn't matter to me - it was an adventure, I was far from home, and whatever it was, it was going to be exciting, and exotic. I had grown up in a world of snow and pine trees, and I know what I wanted to see - a palm tree. The first exit I took was Cactus Road. Just the thought of seeing a cactus growing outside was amazing, and apparently there was a road with the name "cactus"! I was stunned. I drove a bit, pulled over somewhere, got out of my car, walked up to a palm tree, and touched it with my hand. I can still feel that feeling. It was a feeling of awe, and amazement. Of course, if you've always lived in a place, you really can't see it th

I was talking with a friend of mine who grew up in Phoenix, and has always lived there, yesterday outside on a patio of a restaurant, and as usual I was reminded of weird I am. I'm a Californian in Phoenix. Oddly enough though, I didn't live very long in California, but it has strongly influenced me. I moved there was I was 25, after I graduated from ASU, and returned to Phoenix when I was 31. And I grew up in Minneapolis, so you would think that I would be more Phoenician, or Minneapolitan? Of course, I don't notice my weirdness until I'm around normal people, like my friend. And one of the weirdest things that I do is to sit outside on patios. In Phoenix this really makes no sense. The buildings in Phoenix are comfortable and air conditioned. And while it isn't blazing hot all year long in Phoenix, it is most of the time. And I don't mean pleasantly warm, I mean "fry an egg on the sidewalk" hot. And of course in Minneapolis it's the same,

Today I will be going history adventuring IRL (In Real Life) in Phoenix. Of course, I'm history adventuring all of the time in cyberspace, looking at old photos of Phoenix, maps, that sort of thing, but every once in a while I get out there in the real world. If you'd like to do this, I encourage you. It's great fun, and it's an inexpensive form of entertainment. Of course most people will have no idea what you're doing, so it's not a bad idea to tell your friends that you're going to a restaurant with friends. Most people do that as the main focus of going anywhere except work and errands, and so it makes sense. Saying something like "I'm going to see the KPHO radio building on Buckeye Road and 23rd Avenue" will probably get blank stares from people. But then if you say, "And then I'll be going to Blah Blah Blah Restaurant", they will relax, and be fine with it. But I know that you understand, so I'll tell you what the

Although I'm looking forward to the Light Rail being extended out to Glendale, as of this writing, the end of the line is at 19th Avenue and Dunlap. I've been following the story, and the plans are to build it to Metrocenter, which is only about a mile away from there, but it will take some serious engineering (I'm looking forward to seeing the bridge over the freeway, which is supposed to be about half mile north of Dunlap!). Then hopefully it will proceed on Dunlap, which becomes Olive, to Glendale Community College, which is near where I live. Well, we'll see. But even if they do, it's gonna take a while, so in the meantime you have to make the connection with a bus. The distance from GCC to what I'm calling "the end of the line" (19th Avenue and Dunlap) is about six miles, and the Dunlap bus is 90. A city bus, of course, stops quite often, so it takes a while to cover the distance. When you get on the Light Rail, however, everything changes. T

If you look at the civic architecture of the 1920s and 1930s, that is, public buildings, in places like Phoenix Arizona, you'll see some spectacular, and often showy, design. And if you look at public buildings in the 1990s, you'll see that they look awful. It's not your imagination, and it's not a conspiracy, man. It has to do with changing attitudes, the difference between "boosting" a city, and showing careful spending of tax money. "Boosting a city", which is an old-fashioned phrase, meant doing the kinds of things that would impress people who visited your city. That meant having impressive public buildings, including fire stations, libraries, that sort of thing. The idea was to show that your city was a good place to live, and maybe to start a business. It has everything to do with the Chamber of Commerce showing what a wonderful place the city is to invest in. Obviously, Phoenix was successful. After World War II, the growth was explo

One of the things that I liked about Phoenix is that I never got the sense that the locals resented newcomers. Sure, there were the frustrated comments about how slow "Snowbirds" drove when they visited Phoenix, but nothing like the sheer hatred of people who were moving into California. And I guess I can understand. Phoenix may have gotten bigger in the 20th Century, but it never got as crowded as places like Los Angeles. When I left LA, to move back to Phoenix in 1989, I know that I made a lot of Californians happy. I remember the bumper stickers that said, "Save California, when you leave, take someone with you." Of course, I only did half of that request, but it was the best I could do. I never knew the Los Angeles of the before the 1980s, the Los Angeles of the Beach Boys, I only knew the Los Angeles of standing in line for everything. If people asked me if I was going back to Cali, I'd say, "I don't think so". Like I say, I can underst

I didn't grow up in Phoenix. I grew up in Minneapolis, Minnesota, and by the time I got to Phoenix I was 19. And that meant that I already had a car, and was pretty much a "grown-up". And while I love Phoenix, and will always stay there, I've often wondered how in the world kids could grow up there. When I ask people who did, they just shrug their shoulders and say, "We were kids." And I guess that says it all. Kids do what they gotta do. If you grew up back east, like I did, you know that summer is a wonderful time to be a kid. If you've never been in the "City of Lakes" (Minneapolis) in the summer, I strongly recommend that you go visit. In spite of the fact that it gets humid, and there are mosquitos, the summers in Minneapolis are glorious. As a kid I rode my bike along Minnehaha Parkway, and then around all of the lakes (you're always near a lake in my old neighborhood). I spent the summers playing tennis and riding my bike - I wa