History Adventuring

As someone who loves flowers, and gardens in general, I've often wondered what Phoenix looked like back in Victorian days. But luckily I can see it anytime I want to, and not just in my imagination, at an historic ranch in my neighborhood. That's the Sahuaro Ranch in the photo up there, and the rose gardens were originally planted at the turn of the century, as were many of the palm trees. And yes, of course there were crops planted as well, it was a working farm and ranch, after all. But what has always fascinated me the most were the flowers, specifically the rose garden. Time-travel with me to a time when the word "desert" just meant a horrible place. Nowadays, of course, people admire the beauty of the desert, but in the 1890s, areas surrounding the Sahuaro Ranch were pretty desolate, and what I would call "miles and miles of kitty litter". And so, in addition to growing crops, people surrounded themselves with beauty, with flowers. It must ha

If you've ever wondered why there are stop signs in Phoenix, or anywhere for that matter, you must have been an annoying kid, like I was. I guess I still am! I haven't been back to the neighborhood where I grew up, and learned to drive in, Minneapolis, for a very long time, but I distinctly recall what were called "uncontrolled intersections". That is, there were no stop signs on the neighborhood streets. I was taught that if a car was slightly ahead of me at an intersection that I would yield for it, the same way that I yield for a shopping cart in a grocery store, or let someone step out of an elevator before me. Only the major streets had stop signs and traffic lights. I moved to Phoenix in 1977, and whether it was a changing of eras, or a changing of location, I don't know, but I saw a LOT of stop signs. And in a long life in the Phoenix area, I've rarely seen uncontrolled intersections. I've even seen stop signs in the parking lots. And since I

Let's go back to old-time Phoenix, and be old-timers. In the 21st Century, we'd be called "senior citizens" or some such polite term, but at the turn of the century, we're just a couple of cranky old guys. Come on! The first thing we'll need is a place to sit in front of a building. Let's sit in front of the Ford Hotel, at 2nd Avenue and Washington. I'll buy us some coffee. I figure that we can sit there most all day long, no one will mind. If any of those young whipper-snappers say anything, I'll waive my Colt at them! That'll learn 'em! The Colt? Yeah, here it is. No, I didn't point it at you. Oh sorry. But don't worry, my vision is still as good as it was back in the war. Now those were the days! As I recall, you fought on the Confederate side, right? I was Union, but it doesn't matter. Those were the days when duty called, you answered! Not like today, with those cowardly rapscallions everywhere. What's this

It's 1916, we're in Phoenix, and I want to go see Goliath the Giraffe. He's part of Barnum and Bailey's Circus and I've heard that he's really, really tall. No, I've never seen a giraffe. And I really don't believe that you have, either. Yes, I'll bet a hundred million billion dollars! I just saw an article in the paper, and I'm looking forward to seeing this magnificent beast. I go to the circus every year. A friend of mine says that he saw Goliath walking in the circus parade on Washington when they got to town, but I don't believe him. I think since Goliath is such a big attraction, they're going to keep him hidden so that you'll have to buy a ticket to see him. No, I don't have any money for a ticket, but don't worry. I give the bearded lady some plugs of my dad's chewing tobacco whenever she's in town. We'll get in as a honored guests! Yes, you'll have to kiss her. Let's go see Goliath!

Let's time-travel back to Phoenix in 1909, where there's trouble. And I mean with a capitol T, and that rhymes with P, and that stands for pool! Yes, there's a pool hall in town. It's in the cigar store run by Lewis Baswitz. And no, I don't mean billiards, which is a respectable game, played by gentlemen. Let me see if I can explain about pool. Why sure, I'm a billiard player, mighty proud to say it. I consider that the hours I spend with a cue in my hand are golden. Help you cultivate horse sense, and a cool head and a keen eye. Ever take and try to give an iron-clad leave to yourself from a three-rail billiard shot? But anyone can take and shove a ball in a pocket! This pool hall is at 43 E. Washington Street, right there in the middle of town where anyone can go. I've seen children peeking into the windows. But I say that the presence of a pool table in Phoenix means trouble. Now I know that you folks are the right kind of parents, and I'm

It's 1899, we're in Phoenix, and I'd really like some coffee. Jump into the back of the buckboard and let's go to Coffee Al's, which is on Washington just west of Center Street (Central Avenue). Yes, I know we had coffee at the boarding house this morning - if you can call it that! The brown muck that Mrs. Stick-in-the-Mud, or whatever her name is, serves there ought to be against the law. I poured mine out onto a cactus and I hope it didn't kill it! Here we are at Coffee Al's. Yes, it's also a lunch counter, so maybe I'll get some sandwiches that we can eat later. Give me a dime - that should be more than enough, I'll bring back your change. You stay here with Efron and Wilhelmina, they seem to be a little nervous this morning, it must be all of the traffic on Washington. This town gets more crowded all of the time! I'll be right back. Here you are, I got us each a cup of coffee, and a sandwich that we can share. It was a littl

It's 1920, we're on our way to the Arizona State Fair, and I'm looking forward to eating a hamburger, and some weinnes there. What? You've never heard of them? They're all the rage. They're ground-up meat served in a roll. I understand that the Arizona Packing Company here in Phoenix makes them. No, you don't need to sit down with a knife and fork, you just pick it up and eat them with your hands. Very funny - yes, I know that joke - yes, you can eat your hands separately. Sure, I've eaten them before. Where? Up in the City, in California. But they're better here in Arizona. We have lots of cows and pigs here. Yes, a hamburger is made from beef. No, not ham. I'm not really sure why they call it that, I think it has to do with a city in Germany? The Arizona Packing Company in 1920. You're looking south from what is now called Van Buren on the Tempe Road, which was between Phoenix and Tempe. Here we are at the fair, at a concessio

It's 1924 and there's a new restaurant here in Phoenix called Sing High. It's at 138 S. 2nd Street and is run by Henry Sing. Let's go! I just saw this ad in the paper, and the hours seem a little strange, but it's Saturday, so they'll be open from noon to four, and I think we should go there. OK, there it is! I see that there's a long line, so it must be good. Phoenix has a lot of good Chinese restaurants, but we could always use another one. I wonder how long this one will last? Until the 21st Century, do you think? That must be the owner there, Mr. Sing. No, I don't think Henry is his real name, I'm sure that he goes by that name so that people like us can pronounce it. I'm going to walk over and shake his hand. I want to let him know that Arizona is a friendly place. What? Oh, sure, I'll bow, too. Sing High in the 1970s, 3rd Street and Madison, Phoenix, Arizona. That was delicious. I'm glad we tried the chop suey. No

I like chocolate. I was introduced to dark chocolate, the really good kind, a few years ago by the Woman in my Life. Since then I've become kinda fussy about chocolate. Nowadays I usually get Ghirardelli dark chocolate, which is from San Francisco, and you can get at just about any grocery store, or if I'm in downtown Glendale I'll go to Cerreta's. I just got a gift box today from one of my PhDs (Phoenix History Detectives) from Scharffen Berger - which I'd never heard of, and am enjoying it immensely. So naturally I'm thinking about people in old-time Phoenix, and whether they enjoyed chocolate. Of course they did. I see ads for Ghirardelli chocolate in the paper all of the time. And I know what you're thinking - could they eat it in the summer, before the invention of refrigeration? Yes, it came in powdered form. The more I learn about old-time Phoenix the more I'm amazed at how civilized it was, even over 100 years ago. Luxury goods were suppli

It's 1888, and we're in Phoenix, Arizona. Let's go visit George Loring's store, which is on the south side of Washington at Cactus Alley, a half block east of Center Street [Central Avenue]. There's no air conditioning in Phoenix, but luckily there are a LOT of trees. Let's walk in the shade. My dad has sent me to Loring's place to buy a newspaper, but I think I'll look around while I'm there, maybe talk to George. Here's the place. He calls it "Loring's Bazar". What? No, I have no idea why he spells it that way. I've been told the correct spelling is "bazaar", but maybe he can't spell so good, or maybe the sign painter charged for each letter? What's that noise? Even though it's early in the morning I can hear loud laughter at the Palace Saloon next door. Yes, those were gunshots, but don't worry, they usually just shoot through the roof there. I hear that they have some mighty fine whiskey th

As a man who is now entering his "golden years", and spends a lot of time on the internet, I'm becoming increasingly aware of the constant attempts to swindle, and cheat me. Every day my email inbox is crowded with junk mail, which promises all kinds of things that I know can't possibly be true. And then there's the outright asking me to send money to someone who apparently is a prince in some country I've never heard of. The list goes on and on, and it makes me sad to think that there are people out there who apparently think nothing of cheating, lying, stealing, and swindling. And of course since I'm a time-traveler I thought about how it was done in old-time Phoenix. Let's go back to a time with very few of the regulations that we take for granted nowadays. No Securities Exchange Commission (SEC), no laws protecting investors, no restrictions on what could be promised in advertising. It was pretty darned easy to be cheated and swindled in those

It's 1915, and I need to go get a loan. The president of the First National Bank of Arizona, Emil Ganz, is a friend of my father's and I've been told that since I seem to be a respectable young man that I should go there, and talk to him. The First National Bank of Arizona in 1912, southeast corner of Central and Washington, Phoenix, Arizona. What? Yes, I know where the bank is. It's been on the southeast corner of Central and Washington since the 1890s. Yes, it's the new building, which has been there for three years. Do you mind coming along with me? Just the thought of going into that office makes me nervous. Here we are. And there's Emil. He seems like a pretty cheerful old guy. I think that maybe he and my dad knew each other when they were kids, or something. I'm not sure. Well, at least they know each other. What? Yeah, I know the room smells awful. It must be that cigar! And I don't suppose he ever opens a window. I guess the flowers

It's 1911, and I'm noticing that now that since we're getting older, we should do a little bit of those modern exercises that everyone is talking about. Let's go to the YMCA, the Young Men's Christian Association. Most people just call it the YMCA. Sure, you could call it the Y! Since I'm thirteen, and you're only eleven, I'll lead the way. It's over in the Federal Park, on Monroe just east of 2nd Avenue. Sure, let's run! The Federal Park, between 1st and 2nd Avenues and Van Buren and Monroe. You're looking north. The YMCA is on the left. It's a beautiful spring day in Phoenix so we'll be up on the roof. We may be able to catch a cool breeze! No, you don't need shoes. Only old people wear shoes. Here you go: these are called "dumbbells". No, you don't ring them, you hold them and move them around. Yes, they're kind of like bells except that don't make any noise, that's why they're called

As an old marketing guy, I suppose that the nice people of the Glendale, Arizona Chamber of Commerce really wouldn't appreciate my calling Catlin Court a "secret place". I'm sure that they promote it, and advertise it, but it's not really all that easy to see. But if you want to do a little bit of time-traveling, I recommend going there. Catlin Court is a series of old houses that have been lovingly converted into small businesses that sell antiques, and uh, other stuff. I really don't know. I know that you can get ice cream, though! It's really just a handful of houses east of 59th Avenue and a couple of blocks north of Glendale Avenue. Now, don't get carried away and imagine that you're going to enter some magical place that will make you think that you've been transported to Disneyland, or somewhere like that. They've done a lot with the area in the last few years, but to be fair, much of the surrounding area is, uh, less-than-fas

I hate camping. It's never been my idea of fun, going way back to when I was a kid in Minnesota, being attacked by mosquitos. And to this day if someone suggests that I sleep in a tent out somewhere, I politely, but firmly, say no. No. No. I do, however do urban camping. And there is a relationship to camping. And I've learned a lot in the past few years from my serious "huntin' fishin' campin'" friends. And it comes down to accepting a tiny bit of discomfort, or inconvenience, in order to get away and see some cool stuff. Urban campers are like real campers, they bring stuff. They don't just head out the door and hope that there will be room service, or a restaurant next door, or that someone will wait on them. On my recent visit to a friend in an undisclosed location near Apache Junction, I really enjoyed urban camping. I brought beer, which is just polite, and I also brought a suitcase with more clothes than I would have needed for a trip twi

If you live in the Phoenix area, and you like trees and plants, you really do need to go visit the Boyce Thompson Arboretum, which is near Superior, Arizona, east of the greater Phoenix area. If you've been there, you already know. An arboretum is a garden of trees, and there's none better around Phoenix than the Boyce Thompson. In case you're wondering, it's been there since 1930, and is down in a canyon, and the water is supplied by wells. You can Google more about, and I recommend that you do. Better still, go visit it, and bring me along! Potted cycads at the Boyce Thompson Arboretum. Yesterday I got to go along on a VIP tour to see the new plants that are being installed. Of course, I'm not a VIP myself, but I have friends who are, who donate plants, and who are members. So I got to tag along. To put it as briefly as I can, there was a gigantic garden in north Scottsdale that recently donated all of its plants when the owner of the property died.

As someone who grew up in the midwest, and who lives in Arizona now, I'm fascinated by the different attitudes there towards work and leisure. In Minneapolis, I call it the "midwestern work ethic" and in California and Arizona I call it "being laid back". Whether these attitudes are good or bad depends on what you value. Growing up in Minneapolis, I was taught to value the kind of hard work that made me deliver newspapers in the snow. I was taught at an early age to save money, to value this type of accomplishment. I did well in school, I got good grades, and at the age of 18 was fully immersed in this way of thinking. And then I moved to Arizona, and my transition began to becoming kinder, gentler, and more patient. I met people for whom writing down little marks in a ledger wasn't the whole meaning of life. I met people who valued time with family, with friends. Yes, I'm still anxious, and "twitchy" but I've seen what life can be l

I'm an old marketing guy, a graphic designer, and my hobby for a long time has been collecting old photos of Phoenix, Arizona. And, as you'd expect, I'm comfortable with scanning, with Photoshop, with pixels, with resolution, all that kind of stuff. I have a website where I can upload an unlimited amount of images (thanks to the nice people at BlueHost!), and so I'm very comfortable in the world of cyberspace. I've also been around advertising, promotion, and marketing all of my life. I know the techniques of getting the word out for a product or service. I've worked for a lot of fine companies in both Arizona and California. Yes, there are companies out there that are stinkers, and scammers, but I never worked for them. I'm proud of the places I've worked, such as Blue Cross of California, and Bank One Arizona, just to mention two. I started posting old photos of Phoenix on the web when I first started doing web pages, and teaching web design, ba

As someone who collects old photos of Phoenix, and posts them on the web, I most often see people who wish that the past would return. And unfortunately that's all they do. They say stuff like "I wish that Phoenix would be the way it was when I was a kid!", and they're done. Other than a occasional rant about how much better it was before a particular road was built, or before a building was built, they never lift a finger. This makes me sad, as I know that these people could be the most important people to make the future of Phoenix better. So instead I focus on the people who are actually doing something. Yes, it's a tiny percentage, but they're taking the lessons learned from the past and doing things with the future in mind. I call these people "unrealistically optimistic" and those are the people who have built my city, and continue to do so. They remember a gentler, kinder Phoenix, with more trees, and more room for human beings and they&#

As someone who enjoys researching information about the old photos of Phoenix I collect, I spend a lot of time looking at old newspapers. And then, as now, there's a lot of ads. And many of them deal with the kind of stuff we deal with now, such as caring for your health. Of course, from the vantage point of the 21st Century, most of them look absolutely ridiculous. The ad at the top of this post, for Per-ru-na, is typical of a "patent medicine". And patent medicines were wildly popular at the time. People wanted to believe that something in a bottle would cure everything. I understand. As someone who suffers from chronic pain, I know the benefits of belief. If I lived in old-time Phoenix, I would probably have my trusty bottle of Per-ru-na handy, and I'm sure that friends would buy me some bottles, too. And long after it was proven to be nothing more than alcohol, flavoring, and coloring (which most patent medicines were), I would stick to it, and take it. Tha