History Adventuring

It's 1916, we're in Phoenix, Arizona, and we're socially unpopular. And I know why, it's because neither one of us can play the ukulele! Yes, the ukulele is all the rage. I bought one a while back and have tried to figure it out, but it turns out it's more difficult than I thought. Yes, I was hoping that it would get me invited to the best parties. It turns out it nearly got me thrown out of my boarding house. I see that you're carrying yours, can you play a bit? OK, stop. That's terrible. You'll be getting us kicked out of Phoenix! Say, I have an idea! Take a look at this ad in the paper. I don't know who this Miss McDaniels is, but it looks like she can teach use how to play the ukulele. Let's see, her number is 499, so we can call her. No, I don't have a phone, maybe my landlady will let me use hers. What time is it? It's after five, so we have to call 579. Can you remember that number? Better write it down! Oh yeah, and here, y

Let's time-travel into the future to Phoenix, Arizona with driverless cars, which I predict will be as much a revolution to the city as when "horseless carriages" first appeared. Horseless carriages, or "auto-mobiles" changed not only the way that Phoenix looked, but also how the people living there thought. Since I'm interested in history, and technology, I like to imagine what the future will feel like when most people have no memory what came before. Speaking for myself, I can't really imagine Phoenix before cars, but it was there for a long time, with horses, and street cars, going back to the 1880s. The first car didn't appear in Phoenix until 1904, and so people at that time really couldn't imagine how much that piece of technology would change their city. But instead of looking backwards, let's look forwards. And one of the things we'll have to do is stop calling them "driverless cars". That would be as silly as ca

The old-timers must have hated self-driving cars in Phoenix, which were called "auto-mobiles" (auto meaning self). And whatever they imagined, it couldn't be as terrible as what actually happened in the next few decades. Before the invention of "auto-mobiles", there was a horse in front of a vehicle, keeping an eye on things. After that, the horse was gone, and whatever "horse sense" had been there before vanished. And if the old-timers could have seen what happened, all they would have said is "I told you so". Within decades the number of people killed and maimed in "horseless carriages" had risen dramatically. Efforts were made to stem this, but eventually, in the 20th Century, Phoenix had gotten used to the carnage. And it was true all over the country, where deaths were just listed as part of "the toll". In the 1960s, nylon belts were introduced to try to stem the loss of human life, and not long after that ca

I collect old photos of Phoenix, and by far my favorites are of ordinary life. That is, ordinary houses, ordinary cars, ordinary people who lived there in the past and have become extraordinary simply because of the passage of time. I mean, come on, look at that '55 Ford! And that's a '64 Chevy Impala in the driveway of that Mid-Century Modern house. What's not to like? I got this photo from one of my top history adventurers today, and when I asked if I could share it, the response I got was "Why? It's not worthy." I always ask for permission when posting family photos, even though they're mostly cars and houses, and it strikes me that many people don't treasure these images the way that I do. Most people, when they hear that I'm interested in the history of Phoenix, point me to some textbook, or a website about some famous person. And don't get me wrong, I like learning about that stuff, too, but what I really like is how people lik

If you've heard that there are a lot of beautiful women in Los Angeles, it's true. I lived there for quite a while, and I visit quite often, and the gorgeous women are everywhere. And I mean beautiful, well-dressed, fit and trim, make-up perfect, beautiful hair, drop-dead gorgeous girls. You can't go anywhere without seeing them. Grocery stores, drugs stores, you name it, they're everywhere. And these lovely ladies have been there for generations The reason for this is that Los Angeles is where movies are made. It's also where the modeling agencies on the West Coast are. And the very first thing that you have to know if you're an aspiring actor or model is that you have to be there. That is, when someone is needed for a movie, or to be in an ad, they have to be on set right away. Yes, there are actors and models who can live far away from Los Angeles, but those are only the very top. The rest need to be handy. And yes, you can be discovered in Los Angeles

Personally, I've never seen an elevator that wasn't automatic. That is, other than in movies, I've never seen how elevators were operated for decades, by having someone in the car driving them. In fact, to me the idea just seems ridiculous. An elevator operator? And yet they were very important people, and when they went away, when elevators were automated, it caused a lot of fear. Time-travel with me to a time when a lot of the buildings in Phoenix were converting their elevators to become automatic. And that means that we're now expected to get into an elevator and trust that it will work, while it's trapped us inside and we're moving up hundreds of feet in the air, with nobody driving. I'd like to believe that I would have been one of the brave people who were among the first to try it, but maybe I wouldn't have. Just like today, whenever something is automated, it means that jobs are lost. I can just picture the frustration people felt in old-

Like most middle-aged guys (which I will consider myself to be until I'm at least 100), I like to collect stuff. If you know someone like that, or maybe you are someone like that, you know how it works. The collection is never, ever, big enough. There's always a search on for something. The collection grows and grows. Luckily, my collection requires no physical space, because it's digital photos of old Phoenix. At last count I think I have nearly 10,000 images. I've been collecting for over twenty years, and don't see any reason to stop, or even slow down. Of course, if they were physical images, I'd have filled up my house, and probably several storage sheds by now, but they're digital, and live on my computer, and on my website server. Like all collectors, I like to show people my collection. I post them on a Facebook page, and really do enjoy the oohs and aahs. Of course, since they're digital, I can give them away, which I do, and people don'

Something that I've noticed here in Phoenix, and I also remember in Los Angeles, is displaying wealth with palm trees and roses. It really is showing off, like having a shiny vehicle parked in the driveway. It seems to say to people passing by that the person who lives there is not only doing fine, but they're prospering, and would like the world to know. Understandably, this irritates a lot of people. Considering the fact that both Phoenix and Los Angeles have to be careful with water use, it seems unreasonable to grow things that really have no utilitarian value. And as much as I love palm trees and roses, I have to agree. For the cost and care these plants require, not much utility is given. You can't stand under the shade of palm trees and roses. And maybe that's the point. There's no doubt that the same use of land and water would be better put to use with, for example, a vegetable garden. Or maybe the yard should be left to grow whatever grows naturally

Let's time-travel back to 1919 in Phoenix, Arizona and stay at the Annex Hotel, which was at 515 N. Central Avenue. It's summertime, and I see by the ad that they have the coolest sleeping rooms in the city. It's open all summer, and there are special rates. Let's go. They used to call this the Adams Annex, because it was built right after the original Adams Hotel burned down in 1910. Of course the new Adams Hotel was built in 1911, but in my opinion it's too fancy, and they charge too much. The Annex is fine with me. Of course there are drawbacks, the main one being that this hotel is so darned far away from downtown. It's on Taylor, so it's quite a walk to downtown. Well, I suppose that's part of the reason that the rates are lower. Wow, it's hot here in Phoenix! Must be about a hundred degrees. And I thought I heard some thunder, it might be fixing for a storm. People always say that it's not humid in Phoenix, but today it is. I exp

I don't have a photo of the Amazing Book Lady of 1977 in Phoenix, Arizona. But I can still see her in my mind. She was elderly at the time, so if she's still alive and well today, I wish her well. The Amazing Book Lady lived in the apartment next to mine in the Saguaro Apartments, which were (and are, although the name has changed) at 4205 N. 9th Street. That is, 9th Street just north of Indian School Road, near Lopers. They were "furnished studios", which means that they were very inexpensive, and easy to move into. I was 19 and it was fine for me - just one room really, with a half-wall partition and a single bed. The furniture, of course, was revolting, and looked as if it may have been on Noah's Ark, but hey, I was 19, and living on my own, so I didn't mind. The price was right. The Amazing Book Lady was a retired teacher. Looking back now it seems kinda sad that she was in that ratty little apartment complex at that time in her life, but I never ga

In this imaginary story, we're going to time-travel back to Phoenix in the 1960s, and drink some cocktails at the Bumble Bee. It's the 1960s, it's 6 am in Phoenix, Arizona, and I need a drink. Come along with me, I know a place on 16th Street just south of Thomas called the Bumble Bee. Yes, it opens at six am. What? Early? What do you mean early? I haven't been asleep tonight, it's still the evening to me. Let's see, the address is 2865 N. 16th Street, right behind that big billboard. I see it. Nice car parked there. A Chevy, right? I think it's an Impala? I had an uncle who always drove those cars. What? No, I don't drive anymore. Yes, I suppose it's got something to do with me having cocktails at 6 am. Wow, it must be nearly 100 degrees already, that billboard is making me thirsty. I plan on having a gin-and-tonic. I know the bartenders at the Bumble Bee, and they always treat me right, they have strong wrists when they mix a drink, if you

It's 1895, we're in Phoenix, so let's go swimming at at East Lake Park. They call it a natatorium, but it's just a fancy word for an indoor swimming pool. And may I say how wonderful you look in your bathing costume! Careful now, I think you may be showing a bit too much ankle - you don't want to get arrested for indecent exposure you know! And if I do say so myself, I think that I look pretty good in my bathing suit, a little snug in the shoulders, but I really like those horizontal stripes! Yes, of course there are places to change there, you don't think that we're going to ride on the street car dressed like this! Don't worry about the expense, I'll pay the nickel fare for both us, I have a dime here somewhere that I've been saving up for this. And Moses Sherman will let us in to the natatorium free since we're riding his street car. And yes, you can go there, it's Friday evening, and I'm your escort. And if I may say,

I was talking to a good friend yesterday who recently moved back to Phoenix after being away in California for forty years. And while he's always been sentimental about Phoenix, there's no escaping the truth - summers are awful. For me, of course, it's always been comfortable. I moved to Phoenix as an adult, and once I understood the importance of air conditioning, I was fine. I have a super-dooper air conditioner on my house, and I look back fondly on the super-dooper power of a particularly fine General Motors product that I owned from 2007 to 2017, whose A/C was so powerful that it would cool off the car just about instantly, even when it had been sitting outside. Yes, I like technology. But of course being interested in history makes me think about the people who lived in Phoenix before the invention of air conditioning. And it's really a fairly recent invention, considering that the city of Phoenix has been there since 1870, and there were people living in t

If you're like me, and you live in the Phoenix, Arizona area, you probably love the beauty of the desert. The skies are so blue it's amazing, the mountains have that wonderful "purple majesty" and the desert itself is wonderfully colorful, especially when the wild flowers are in bloom. If, however, you saw the Phoenix desert in the 1860s, you probably saw a very ugly place. In the 19th century, the word "desert" described a place that no sane person would ever want to go, a place of gruesome death. And while I'm out hiking, just loving the Sonoran Desert, it's hard for me to imagine how the Phoenix pioneers saw it. The wonderful cacti (cactuses?) that I love to photograph, and the native vegetation with its delicate beauty, were just weeds back to them. A desert was a terrible place to be. I've often read of pioneers working so hard to clear away all the greasewood, which is the plant in the desert that carries that wonderful smell especia

I've often heard the Phoenix area described as "the valley of the sun". And a valley is simply an area surrounded by mountains. The mountains that make up the valley of the sun are: 1) the White Tanks to the west, 2) the McDowell Mountains to the east, 3) the Phoenix Mountains to the north, and 4) South Mountain to the south. This is the Salt River Valley, which is also a way to describe "the valley of the sun", although not as glamorous a name, so the Chamber of Commerce went with "Valley of the Sun". Because, really, who wants to live in a valley of salt? I've lived in the Phoenix area for a long time, but it's only been recently that I've been trying to figure out the geography of it. I like old photos and often the only thing that remains the same is the shape of the mountains in the background. Of course nowadays most intelligent people are watching for traffic, and using their GPS, which is why it's wise to not let me drive

If you're wondering if there were trees growing in downtown Phoenix before the very first building was built there, in the 1870s, yes there were, and they were mesquite. And while they were the same mesquite that you may have growing in your yard today, they were growing naturally, and weren't trimmed up to look quite so "treelike" because that really isn't how they grow naturally. Naturally they tend to grow more sideways than up, which you can still see in riparian areas in the desert. The word "riparian" is just a fancy word meaning an environment where water flows sometimes. I usually just call them washes, and the bigger ones are marked on maps around Phoenix as rivers. And if you've spent much time outdoors in the Phoenix area, you know that washes in the desert can be dry in the summer, raging rivers in the rainy season, and muddy at other times. And certain plants grow there naturally, one of them being mesquite. And if you go back i

I was talking to a good friend this morning about my passion for Phoenix history, and that I've lately been writing about my own personal history in Phoenix. And he wondered why I was doing that, since I'm not famous. And since I'm an ordinary person, I'm exactly the kind of person that I'm most interested in Phoenix history. If that sounds strange, I'll see if I can explain. There's a lot of stuff out there on famous people. There are a lot of books, a lot of articles on the internet. I've never studied Arizona history in school, but I'd imagine that there's mostly famous people there. And I understand. And I appreciate famous people, and celebrities, but mostly I want to know how ordinary people lived. In my explorations in my imagination I want to see the ordinary people, the people who get up every morning and go to thankless jobs, who aren't celebrated publicly, but who make places like Phoenix exist, and flourish. I lent my frien

I like Arizona, it's my home. I wasn't born there, but I want to live there for the rest of my life. I like to describe the way that I felt when I first arrived as "coming home to a place I'd never been before". Everything just seemed to click for me, I even liked the heat (I came from Minnesota, and I just HATE being cold). I grew up with blue skies, and the skies in Arizona were just as blue. I went away for a few years, seeking fame and fortune in California, which I never found, and I was never really comfortable there. I know that I tried, tried to laugh off the gridlocked traffic of Los Angeles, tried to feel at home there, but it never really worked. And then I got laid off from my job and decided to go visit some old friends in Phoenix. And I've often tried to describe the feeling, as if I were putting on an old jacket that just fit right. I got an apartment in Phoenix, went and got my stuff out of my apartment in LA (lost the deposit) and knew th

Like the latest technology today, the invention of photography created a lot of confusion for people who didn't understand how it worked. And because of that confusion, many people saw ghosts in photos. Of course, once you understand how exposures work, and how negatives are created with light, it all makes sense, and there really aren't any ghosts in the photos. But without that, the blurry images that people saw were seen as obvious proof of ghosts. In the photo above, of Central Avenue and Adams in 1908, there are two "ghosts" that can be seen. On the left is simply a man just walking across the intersection, but to the right are two very ghostly images. One looks to be walking to the right, and the other one to the left. This must have been very frightening for people to see in 1908! Of course, all that's happening is that the people in the photo are moving too quickly for the camera, which had a very long exposure time (the time that the lens had to be

Let's walk in downtown Phoenix in 1963. There are stores all along Washington Avenue, including Woolworth's, and there are plenty of people walking. Personally, I never saw any of this. By the time I got to Phoenix, in 1977, this type of vibrant life had long since passed. Whether there were stores then I have no recollection, I just recall how horrible downtown Phoenix looked, and I got out of there right away. So images of it before the 1970s fascinate me, and I want to step into them. We're walking west on Washington, looking towards Woolworths, which is at 1st Street in 1963. See the signs? Oh yes, right behind her. I see her. I'm not blind, you know! Calm down now, that's just the style women are wearing now. This isn't the fifties anymore you know, it's the swinging sixties! Even though it's fall, it's still warm and sunny and the deep overhangings on the stores are appreciated. They go all of the way out over the very wide sidewalk,

I spent two years at ASU, transferring from Phoenix College in 1981, and finally getting my degree in 1983. I've never been very good at math, but according to my calculations, it took me way more than four years to get my four year degree, which I began back in Minnesota in September of 1976. I started my Arizona college education at Phoenix College in 1977, and the tuition was so low that when I wrote home asking for "tuition money" my parents thought that I was joking. They had promised to pay for my college education all of my life, every time I asked for something saying that they had to save up for my college education, so I felt confident that they would pay it, and they did. I know that I took year off to "find myself" in Phoenix, but otherwise I really don't know why it took me so long to get to a point where I could transfer my 100 and 200-level classes over to the University. Like I said, I'm not very good at math, and have always had a t