By Ken Edwards

Rufus Farrington was an early settler in the Arizona Territory, arriving in late 1863. He was one of the incorporators of the Fort Mojave and Prescott Toll Road Company that was given exclusive right to build and maintain a wagon road between the two communities.

His road station at Walnut Creek, northwest of Prescott, was more than once the victim of raids by "Apaches"("Apaches" was a common term that was generally applied to any hostile Indians by pioneers at this time in this area) who were blamed for almost everything in those days. In November of 1865, Indians stole a yoke of oxen, a Sharps rifle, provisions and bedding. They also reportedly burned 30 tons of hay and a two-horse wagon. A year later, his ranch north of Prescott was raided and he lost several oxen, milk cows, mules and a brood jack.

In 1952 his daughter, Blanche Farrington Chapman, wrote an account to the Arizona Historical Society of Rufus’s favorite story-how he alone chased a band of hostile Indians across miles of Northern Arizona to Fort Mojave. Here is Blanche’s account, in her own words, which are reflective of the attitudes prevalent in her father’s pioneer time. The entire original letter is in the Sharlot Hall Museum Archives.

"Father and Captain William H. Hardy were building the first toll road ever built in Arizona. From time to time they would go out to look over the work being done and check the men’s progress. This time father was riding a fine, recently acquired California mare. She was a beautiful, swift and highly nervous animal unused to Indians. Father said there had been no sign of Indians for some time so felt it safe to go alone on an inspection trip. Suddenly, as he rode around a bluff, he found himself surrounded by war-painted Redmen out on one of their raids to kill and steal. The mare didn’t like the looks of the warriors. She snorted, reared and plunged about in such fright that father had trouble staying on the saddle. One of the younger Indians, Charlie, father knew and had employed occasionally on his ranch. While the Indians closed in as near as the frightened mare would permit, father said: ‘Hello Charlie. What are you doing here?’ Charlie nodded toward the hills and answered: ‘Big Hunt.’ Of course father knew too well that he wasn’t telling the truth, as the Indians were all decked-out in their hideous makeup of turkey feathers in their hair, faces painted black, red and yellow. Their quivers were packed full of new arrows and they were out on a ‘Big Hunt’ all right, a hunt for men and property and bent on destruction-they were on the war path!

"The Indians kept up a ‘How! How! How!’ with their hands up-stretched to shake hands. Father knew well enough that if one of them reached his hand that they would have finished him. He would have been jerked off the mare in a jiffy. Instead, he kept up a parley with them pretending to shake hands if his wild mount would allow. He waited until he reached the outer circle and plunged his spurs into the sides of his powerful horse and was off for the wide-open spaces to Fort Mojave. As he escaped the bloodthirsty enemies, he doffed his hat and waved an Adios and the chase began.

"It was uncertain how all this was going to turn out. Father had traveled over this road many times and felt sure he knew every gully and peak along the way. He soon found out he was in error. He gave the horse her head and urged her on with whip and spur.

"Ahead, he noticed curling smoke drifting skyward. Father knew then that the Apaches

had burned the roadside cabin, the halfway house where the supplies were stored for the road gang. With this disheartening fact came the thought too of Ole, the loved and trusted Swede caretaker. Oh God! What about Ole? That question was soon answered as he rode into the roadside camp. Yes, the cabin and all the supplies were gone and most terrible of all was the dead, stripped body of Ole. The arrows had done their work. Saddened by the sight of Ole’s dead body father knew he could do nothing for him and hurried on. At last the Fort came into sight-safety and rest for his noble mount. By the time he rode into the Fort the mare was a lather of white, dripping sweat and her sides heaved for breath. Father said he considered shooting at the pursuing Indians but was uncertain how the mare might react. He rode in the Fort and related his perilous ride. One thing that was difficult to understand was why the Indians hadn’t put an arrow through him. He never figured that out.

"He would finish his story, ‘Yes, I alone, chased the band of hostile Indians for many miles but you see-I took the lead!’

"During the closing years of father’s life, I heard him often say that according to his knowledge he never killed an Indian. He fought them and shot in their direction to convince them he was armed. Of course, he said if he had to kill one or be killed, he would have in self-defense. A situation he never experienced. It was a joy to him I believe, that no man’s blood ever stained his hand, not even a renegade Apache."

What really happened, Rufus’ telling of it to his daughter, Blanche’s recollections, and what Blanche wrote down could be four different narratives and a story in itself. We do know that Rufus Farrington went on to many other Arizona enterprises as a freighter, merchant, postmaster and nurseryman.

(Ken Edwards is a volunteer tour guide at the Sharlot Hall Museum.)

Sharlot Hall Museum Photograph Call Number:(po0290pf). Reuse only by permission.

Blanche Farrington Chapman recounted one of her father’s favorite tales. This story not only shows "territorial life", but also how different things were viewed over time. From her father’s account to her retelling, we can only wonder what really happened.

By Kathryn Reisdorfer

As I watched the throngs of people enjoying music, commerce and camaraderie the night of the Acker Musical Showcase, I was reminded of what early Christmases must have been like in Prescott. People were on the street sharing with their neighbors-whether they were conscious of it or not-the heightened feelings of the season.

Christmas in the early days in Yavapai County was also a public affair. People, eager for company, flocked into the towns from remote mining camps and ranches. Even town-dwellers took part in the public activities. After all, in this newly settled area, most people were not set-up well enough to entertain friends in their homes. Still, far from many of their kin, they sought warmth and a sense of community.

In company towns throughout the mineral-rich West, mining company officials supervised the public part of Christmas. "The Company" gave parties and saw to it that youngsters had something special. Although Jerome was not a company town, everyone knew that when you said "The Company," you meant United Verde. Will Clark was the assistant superintendent. On Christmas Night in 1904, he and his wife hosted a party for the town’s children-and their parents. The Clarks brought in a tree from Sycamore Canyon, and Santa showed up too, giving gifts and candy to 200 children who, the local newspaper reported, would otherwise have "had a barren Christmas." The Clarks also went to Jerome Junction and Equator, distributing gifts and good cheer. Not to be outdone by "The Company", one Jerome store advertised that every child who came in on Christmas would receive a "handsome box" of candy; 231 children showed up.

Prescott, too, was a major mining center in the early days, but neither was it a "company town" nor was it dominated by any single company. Devoid of a central authority, Prescott’s public Christmas was celebrated on the streets, at dances, in the opera house, in churches-and in saloons. One newspaper reported that on Christmas in 1883, "The saloons were well patronized, notwithstanding which fact, not one single case of drunkenness was observed."

In the mid 1880s one Prescott paper proudly announced that several families had Christmas trees! Then, as now, Christmas trees were popular, but most of them were public. Jerome had its Company Christmas tree, but in Prescott, it was the churches that provided this special treat. In the Marina Street Church and the Baptist Church, trees were hung with gifts to be given to children on Christmas.

While Protestant churches had their trees, the Catholic Church had its midnight mass, and some years, the chapel was full to over-flowing. Jerome was notoriously less church oriented. One newspaper announced right before Christmas in 1904 that, "Jerome is shy of sky pilots, none of the congregations having a minister in the field at the present time."

Whether they were in the church or in homes, trees were surrounded by gifts. Christmas was a good time for merchants. In Jerome, stores stayed open every night until 9 o’clock. Prescott papers advertised fine gifts available at stores like Hill’s Hardware, M. Goldwater & Bro., and Bashford & Burmister. Obviously taking aim at mail order catalogues, they encouraged people to buy locally. The Bashford store, before it was Bashford & Burmister, advertised: "No Delay and Money and Time Saved" for "The Station Keeper, The Miner, The Stockman, The Families."

Not only were stores well stocked, but freighters were also in evidence on the streets during the holidays, bringing in loads of goodies from the West Coast. On Christmas day local "express wagons" and livery stable carts were busy delivering gifts "from friends to friends."

Amid the exchange of gifts on Christmas day, there was the feast. Local restaurants and hotels, catering to the more public part of the public, offered mouthwatering delicacies-at reasonable prices. Private tables also overflowed with a host of delicacies. Householders in Prescott could buy everything locally. Jules Bauman offered "strictly pure, fresh candies," Bones and Spencer had "fresh fruit, candies, figs, etc., for the holidays," and Ackers & Walker, meat merchants, advertised, "Good, Fat Meats, Cheap."

In 1887, food was the most important aspect in the newspaper’s report of Christmas in Prescott. "The two meat markets vied with each other in their display of tempting meats and game and each did credit to northern Arizona," the newspaper reported. "J. H. Smith’s principal attraction was a 1,000 pound beef, rolling in fat, from the herd of John Marr, on Agua Fria, while Mr. O’Malley, the genial manager of the Tragic, exhibited a 500 pound hog, surrounded by half a dozen succulent pigs. In addition to the above both markets were lined with fine, choice, fat beef, turkeys, fish, duck, deer, lamb and every other variety of meat which it is the custom to tickle the palate with at Christmas tide."

After mid-day feasting, there were evening entertainments. The Masons always had festivities, frequently holding elections and "high teas." In 1880, just before Sitting Bull brought his starving people in to Ft. Buford, Morris Goldwater was elected Worshipful Master of the Masons. He took office on Christmas.

There was always something going on at the Opera House. Sometimes there was professional entertainment, but in 1883, a couple of local fellows participated in a concert where they sang a duet from the Italian opera, "Il Trovatore." The audience demanded an encore. A few years later, "the scholars" of St. Joseph’s Academy entertained the town just before Christmas. One reviewer noted: "The rendition of ["Marie Antoinette"] was of course not expected to be on a par with professionals, but was very creditable to those who took part in it. The music was by the Ninth Infantry band ."

Then there were the dances-and more feasts. In Jerome, local organizations, such as unions and "hose companies," alternated giving Christmas night balls. In Prescott, various groups hosted Christmas dances in the largest space available, City Hall. Music was always provided by "excellent bands."

In 1887 the newspaper noted that," The joyous festivities [of Christmas Day] closed very appropriately last evening by a grand sheet and pillow-case ball, given by a number of the young gentlemen of the Ivy Club, at the city hall. A large number of ladies and gentlemen were present, most of them in costume, many of which were very grotesque. The music was splendid; a genial spirit pervaded the company, and with a good supper at the Bellevue, everything passed off very pleasantly."

So may it with you, too, during this Christmas holiday, 2001.

(Kathryn Reisdorfer is a professor at Yavapai College and has recently completed an inventory of historic documents and artifacts in Yavapai County)

Sharlot Hall Museum Photograph Call Number: (bui120pa ). Reuse only by permission.

In 1899 the Smith Meat Market, across Gurley Street from the Courthouse, dressed their meat with great care. At Christmas time the meat markets throughout the county would try to outdo one another with displays and special on "good, fat meats"

Sharlot Hall Museum Photograph Call Number:(po0426p). Reuse only by permission.

Sarah McCrea, Keller Waston, Agnes Coulon, Cylde Watson, Alice Day, Calvin Bass, and Etta DeWitt pose for a Christmas day picture on the porch of the St. Joseph’s Academy in 1897. Christmas was indeed a public affair and a genial spirit pervaded in Prescott and Jerome.

By William Peck

In about 1823, fur trappers such as Jim Bridger, "Old Bill" Williams and James O. Pattie and his father, Sylvester, began penetrating the mountains of the west. There were about 400 of their numbers, diligent humans, animals who could carry a pack of traps, and supplies that would stagger a horse. Horses were of little use to them since stealth was essential and these men survived only because they could "out-Indian" the Indians.

By the heyday of their existence they had explored and trapped from the Yukon to the lower Sonora. It was they who spread the rumors of riches and were the guides to the earliest military mapmakers. Jim Bridger guided the early Mormons and told Brigham Young about the Salt Lake Valley.

Their impact upon the land far exceeded their numbers. They left a mixed legacy. By 1840, they had nearly destroyed the beaver population. Their method was to trap a stream from source to termination taking all the animals unfortunate enough to place their foot into their ill-concealed leg hold traps, so placed that tripping them drowned the animal. The Indians, who realized their value as trade items, harvested what few they missed.

The accompanying drawing is taken from artwork reproduced from "U.S. Senate, Executive Document No. 91, 33rd Congress, 2nd Session" published in 1856, is an account from the Whipple expedition to find a railroad route through Northern Arizona. The artist accompanied Ameil Weeks Whipple and did an excellent job of portraying the convergence of the Big Sandy and Santa Maria Rivers, the point at which the Bill Williams River is born. Witness the wide seneca terraced with beaver ponds, still in existence so many years later since the beaver trapper’s encroachment. The mountain in the background is easily recognized today but the river channel is quite another thing.

Following the beaver trappers were the trekkers moving across the west starting with the expeditions of exploration and ending with the early miners that followed. Had it not been for animal power these migrations would have been impossible. Indians who knew the only viable way through this desert country guided the earliest. The prime route for both whites and Indians from central Arizona westward to the Colorado River was by way of the Santa Maria and Bill Williams Rivers. Even the Spaniard, Marcos Farfan, used this route in 1610, as did numerous other early Spanish explorers guided by the Indians.

Animals required grass and water and men needed meat, all of which abounded along these early streams. The demand exceeded the supply and the rich bottomlands of rushes and cottonwoods were denuded yielding to the teeth of grazing animals that eventually stripped away the sod and the ancient beaver dams that had taken centuries to take root and tame the rivers. Vanquished by floods which cut deep gorges down through the arrested sand and muck, the riparian plain was drained. This killed the forest and the fish as well as all the creatures that depended upon this oasis in the desert.

To compound that fatal injury came the hordes of cattle in following years that polished off the vegetation that had somehow escaped and prevented it from re-establishing. Today, looking at same scene, one sees no water, no trees other than a few struggling deep rooted mesquites–only a vast sea of bone dry sand stirred and raked by reoccurring floods.

There were some benefits to mankind though. It is a forgotten fact that malaria was once endemic to all of the perennial streams in the west. Even the Indians abandoned Wickenburg in the summer months because of the severity of the mosquitoes that bore malaria until 1867. The commandant at Camp Date was on his deathbed with the "fever" when General Crook visited there before the Cinco Cannones battle, according to Bourke. All the accounts record the raging fevers of the Gila and Salt River valley. Not until the earliest miners and farmers diverted the water from the Hassayampa River, drying the riverbed, did the threat disappear and towns like Wickenburg flourished.

There is a lesson here. Those who would reintroduce the "wetlands" into the west should bear this in mind. With forecasted climatic warming, these old scourges will and are reappearing.

There has been much irreparable damage done but there is still a grain of hope. Knowing history has alerted some to the hazards of environmental degradation. Beaver are starting to reappear on the Santa Maria River once more. These are desert beaver that instead of building deep ponds for their lodges dig into the bank. The dams they build are shallow affairs that divert water diagonally across the sandy, rocky channel for the purpose of irrigating the reoccurring tules and willows. They are literally farming the river bottom, and succeeding. Sod, where the river periodically runs, is bedding down the channel that is becoming denuded of the deep, course, dry sand that hid the water away beneath the surface. Now, little rills of clean flowing water bear little minnows that swim in the shadows and pools. True, one great flood can remove this progress, but beavers are patient, more so than man.

We should be happy at the beavers determined effort while thanking the Patties and the Williams for relieving us of that plague, malaria.

You win some, you lose some, they say. Better that we learn.

(William Peck is a long time resident of Hillside. There will be more stories from his past in the coming months)

Sharlot Hall Museum Photograph Call Number: (book 625.11 Rep v2, p103). Reuse only by permission.

In 1853-54 the Whipple expedition came across the "Valley of Bill William Fork." This drawing shows what appears to be a rather large beaver pond in the foreground. The pond is especially striking considering that the trappers had pretty much taken most all of the beaver years before.

"Don Miguel" Wormser, Pioneer Jew in earliest Prescott

By Tom Brodersen

The first store on Prescott’s Courthouse Plaza was operated by Michael Wormser, a pioneer Jew from Alsace-Lorraine, France. Wormser purchased the adobe building on the southeast corner of Montezuma and Goodwin (next to the current Chamber of Commerce office) from Rafael Lucero of New Mexico. For the next decade, Michael Wormser sold miners supplies and general merchandise on the Plaza.

Michael Wormser left his native France in 1858 and arrived in New York City with only fifteen dollars in his pocket. When he died he was one of the wealthiest men in Arizona. His cousin Benjamin Block paid for his passage in steerage from the slums of New York to San Francisco. Wormser slept in the straw in Block’s livery stable, in San Luis Obispo, California, on duty round the clock. When that business failed, Wormser earned his way as a peddler and horse trader.

In 1862 trapper and scout Paulino Weaver discovered gold on the Colorado River at La Paz, 120 miles north of Yuma. Michael and his cousin Ben staked claims there, but both failed as miners so they opened a general store. When the mining boom in La Paz began to slow down, and gold was discovered in 1863 at Weaver Gulch, near Wickenburg, Michael Wormser moved on to try his hand at mining and store keeping again.

Mountain man Joseph Reddeford Walker and a group of prospectors soon found gold on Lynx Creek, in the heart of Arizona territory. Wormser pulled up stakes once more and opened a store on Lynx Creek. Soon a town site was surveyed on the east bank of Granite Creek and on May 30, 1864, the founding citizens named it Prescott. Michael Wormser opened for business on the Courthouse Plaza on August 24, 1864.

A Wormser and Company ad in the Arizona Miner, announced a "new and large assortment of goods, just received from San Francisco… the most complete ever brought to Prescott. It consists of clothing, dry goods, boots and shoes, liquors and a general assortment of the choicest groceries." They even sold chickens, pigs and cattle out behind the store.

Goods were not delivered by UPS in those days. In fact, Wormser and his party were attacked by "Apaches" while hauling in supplies by wagon from Ehrenberg on the Colorado River, in December of 1865. In spite of a military escort, Wormser was struck by an arrow "in the fleshy part of his anatomy nearest the saddle." When he arrived in Prescott from a later journey the local paper joked, "Our time-honored friend, M. Wormser . . . returned from a trip . . . [however] his old friends . . . failed to honor him with the customary salute in the rear."

Many of the pioneers of Prescott were immigrants from various countries. Two partners from Germany, Henry Wunderlich of Bremen and Aaron Wertheimer a Jew from Baden joined Wormser in business. Wormser had originally hoped to return to France one day. However, according to Wormser’s friend, Judge Edmund Wells, when Alsace-Lorraine was surrendered to Germany in 1871 Wormser accepted "exile rather than become a German subject."

Michael Wormser, who spoke French, Yiddish and English, picked up Spanish quickly. The Mexicans called him "Don Miguel" or "El Judio Miguel" (the Jew Michael). In fact, on his naturalization papers he signed his name Miguel Wormser. Along with other early Arizonans like King Woolsey and Daryl Duppa, "Don Miguel" Wormser figures prominently in "Sugarfoot" by Clarence Budington Kelland, a 1942 western novel set in Prescott.

Along with his retail business, Wormser continued to stake, buy, and sell mining claims in the Walker, Hassayampa, Agua Fria, Big Bug, Turkey Creek, and Bradshaw mining districts. Like many others he never had much luck in mining gold. He also grubstaked other prospectors in mining ventures.

Wormser’s partner Aaron Wertheimer was one of the founders of the Arizona Pioneers Historical Society and treasurer of the Prescott’s Aztlan Masonic Lodge. Wertheimer set up a sawmill and shingle machine at Bradshaw, near Crown King in 1872. Wormser and Wertheimer were also partners, along with others, in the Big Bug Quartz Mill.

On March 22, 1873 the Journal Miner announced, "Those old time Arizona traders, Messrs. Wormser and Wertheimer, have taken a new and very spirited start in business… at Phoenix in the Salt River Valley." They purchased a large adobe building at the southeast corner of Central Avenue and Jefferson Street. However, on January 20, 1874, Aaron Wertheimer died at age 41, apparently of stomach cancer. The Arizona Miner reported, "Prescott and Arizona have lost another good citizen by the death of Aaron Wertheimer, a man who was widely known, loved and respected by all who knew him… His spirit has flown upwards, leaving his body to the care of brothers and friends who are, even now, preparing to deposit it in its last resting place in the Masonic Cemetery."

Without his trusted business partner, Wormser was forced to liquidate the Prescott store at a loss. To pay off their creditors, Wormser sold property in Prescott and elsewhere to his nephew Abraham Lippmann, and settled in Phoenix. There, in addition to minding the store, Wormser borrowed horses and land and began farming.

After many setbacks Wormser’s perseverance made him a wealthy man in Phoenix. When he died in 1898, at the age of 69, he had been instrumental in developing the canals that made the desert bloom and he left a large estate. His wealth was mostly tied up in agricultural land. His liquid assets amounted to $100 cash.

Wormser had never married and lived simply. His personal belongings were limited to a bed, a few chairs and a table, a stove, a bookcase, and a wardrobe and dresser containing well-worn clothes – the sort of things one might find in a pioneer’s cabin. The newspaper reported that "Michael Wormser is kindly remembered by many old timers who, in the early days, were favored by him with the necessities of life when money was hard to obtain . . . Mr. Wormser gave much to charity, but in an unostentatious manner."

Wormser’s lifelong friend Edmund Wells of Prescott is most remembered today as the author of Argonaut Tales, a classic book on Prescott’s early days. Wells also arrived in Prescott in 1864 and Governor Goodwin appointed him as Yavapai County’s first Justice of the Peace. Judge Wells devoted a chapter of his book to Michael Wormser recording that Wormser’s "public spirit and generosity made him popular in the business community." Edmund Wells served as a pallbearer at Michael Wormser’s funeral and other friends recited Hebrew prayers. The land in Phoenix where he is buried was donated by his estate to be a Jewish cemetery, Beth Israel, at 35th Avenue and Van Buren in Phoenix.

(Tom Brodersen is a student at Yavapai College and was the 2001 summer intern at the Sharlot Hall Museum Archives)

Sharlot Hall Museum Photograph Call Number:(st136pa). Reuse only by permission.

This view from atop the old Yavapai County Courthouse in the mid-1880s shows the corner of Goodwin and Montezuma Streets. "Don Miguel" Wormser’s store sat on the southeast corner in the 1860s and sold "clothing, dry goods, boots and shoes, liquors and a general assortment of the choicest groceries."

A Victorian Gentlewoman of Prescott: Ethel Mary Murphy

By Robert Spude

On November 19, 1904, Prescott’s newspaper reported:

"Mrs. F. M. Murphy entertained a number of guests in honor of Miss Nellie Drake, who returned recently from a visit east…The dining room which is in red, was beautifully decorated for the occasion and a dainty little souvenir in the shape of a Cinderella silver slipper filled with bonbons was given to each guest."

What do we know of the happenings within the walls of the Victorian houses that stair-step up and down "Nob Hill," east of the courthouse square? Most of the grand homes were built between 1890 and 1902, the waning days of the reign of Queen Victoria. They housed Prescott’s upper class, its merchants, bankers, lawyers, and railroad men and their families. What do we know especially of the women and their children, and their social values?

One house is of special interest to me, the one at the corner of Alarcon and Gurley, a two-story Victorian now carved into apartments and tucked behind Mailboxes Etc. At the beginning of the last century it was the home of Ethel M. Murphy, or, more appropriately, Mrs. F. M. Murphy, and her family.

Ethel is a shadow figure, for the most part, hidden behind her well-known husband, banker, railroad financier, and mine owner Frank M. Murphy. What is known comes from news clippings, family records, a few extant letters, and census data. What is revealed is a modest person who probably did not fit well within Prescott’s society, possibly feeling aloof, if not superior in a pious way.

That she was educated is seen in a few extant letters, a flowing style with perfect grammar. She played piano for the church, and had other musical interests but to what extent is not revealed in information at hand.

Family records provide the slim outline of her life. Born in Baltimore September 17, 1872, she moved around the East with her Oxford-educated Episcopal minister father, Edward Meany, English born mother, Mary, and four siblings. Overcoming the reverend’s modest financial situation, the family nurtured a strong sense of place among betters, instinctively upper class in social outlook reflective of the Church of England’s deferential society.

In 1890, they moved to Prescott. Rev. E. W. Meany is remembered for heading the drive to build the St. Luke’s Episcopal Church building, still standing at the corner of Union and Marina a block from what would later become Ethel’s home. Ethel helped with church functions.

Among the active members was Frank M. Murphy, the town’s most eligible bachelor, and richest. Ethel’s distinctive upbringing separated her from the daughters of ranchers and mercantile clerks, and appealed to Frank. On June 27, 1892, thirty-eight year old Frank married nineteen year old Ethel in "the most brilliant society event that has ever occurred in Prescott," according to the local newspaper. The reception was held at William and Mary Bashford’s gingerbread house, today restored on the Sharlot Hall Museum grounds. The Murphys’s first home was next door.

A photograph taken a few years later shows a twenty-something Ethel, a beauty with doe-like eyes and the Gibson girl look popular during the 1890s. Attractive, polished and knowledgeable of the bigger world, she probably was more than just a loved adornment.

In 1902, the Murphys moved to the home at Gurley Street, which would be their residence the rest of Frank’s life. Ethel’s world was her family, church and home. Newspapers noted the comings and goings of relatives, parties hosted for friends, and small gatherings for the holidays, comprised of family and intimates, usually business partners. Her friends were dictated by her husband’s career, the wives of railroad men, mine owners, or bankers.

She was part of a closely-knit, affectionate family. Her brothers went to work for Frank in his mines or bank. Brother Edward married Nellie Drake of the Cinderella slipper party. Included in the household, according to census data, were maids, butler, valet, and coachman.

As Murphy’s wealth increased, he planned a large housing development on the west side of Prescott, complete with park, figure eight drive, zoo, and grand residence. Maybe because of Ethel’s influence and more reserved tendencies, the home was never built and the grand home site was donated to build the government’s "Arizona Pioneers’ Home."

Ethel, like most Victorian women, had periods of exultation and of black discouragement. Behind the walls were tales of a child lost to disease and a husband crippled by an illness that would shorten his life.

She also influenced some of Frank’s philanthropy, to be a leader in donations to build Prescott’s Carnegie library, help its St. Joseph Academy and the Sisters of Mercy hospital. She saw to the donation of one of his small rental houses to the Episcopal Church as a manse; today it stands on the Sharlot Hall Museum grounds as the restored Governor Fremont House.

But by 1905, the couple spent over half their time in New York, Los Angeles or Europe. Ethel enjoyed Broadway plays, and the Hippodrome, but especially New York City’s St. George Episcopal Church, where banker J. P. Morgan passed the collection plate. During her thirties she was more independent, occasionally taking Frank’s private railroad car on jaunts to visit family or friends. In 1907, she and her husband went to Rome and were introduced to the Pope.

In 1914, Frank’s nephew died leaving a five-year-old son, Frank M. Murphy II, who Ethel, at age 42, and he adopted. Tales of family joy lasted for a few years at their Gurley Street home. Frank’s illness worsened, his condition deteriorated. On June 23, 1917 he died and was buried in Ontario, California.

Ethel and Frank, Jr., moved to California like so many of the old Prescott crowd, including Nellie Drake Meany. They lived near the Ontario, California church once ministered to by her father Rev. Edward Meany. When Prescott residents called for a monument to Frank M. Murphy she demurred. Instead she donated to her church in Ontario a life-sized statue of Jesus in her husband’s name. It still stands. Ethel Mary Murphy died in California June 24, 1950.

(Robert Spude is a freelance writer in Santa Fe New Mexico. He has an avid interest in mining history of our region)

Sharlot Hall Museum Photograph Call Number:(po0751pa). Reuse only by permission.

Frank and Ethyl Murphy stopped for a photographer on the loop road that Murphy had built (now part of Country Club Drive) west of Prescott. Little is known of Ethel and her personality, but it is clear that she was attractive, polished, and knowledgeable of the bigger world.

By Marguerite Madison Aronowitz

The city of Prescott is known for its many attractive features, including the historic courthouse, Whiskey Row, and a collection of five outstanding monumental bronzes that grace the downtown area. Residents and visitors alike often ask about the stories behind these impressive works of art.

The first and most famous of these beautiful bronzes is the William O’Neill Rough Rider Monument that stands in front of the historic courthouse and was dedicated on July 3, 1907. Recently restored, this monumental bronze depicts one of Prescott’s most famous sons, William Owen (Buckey) O’Neill, upon a spirited steed. O’Neill led a local contingent of over 200 men to war on May 4, 1898, when he and his volunteers left Prescott by train to join Teddy Roosevelt’s Rough Riders bound for Cuba to fight in the Spanish-American War. Unfortunately, Captain O’Neill was killed on July 1, 1898, just prior to the attack on Kettle Hill (followed soon thereafter by the Army’s famous charge up San Juan Hill). Buckey was buried on the battlefield, but his body was retrieved a year later and interred in Arlington Cemetery near the grave of his father, Captain John Owen O’Neill, who had fought in the Civil War.

The Rough Rider Monument is the creation of renowned artist Solon Borglum, whose brother Gutzon designed South Dakota’s Mount Rushmore. Solon Borglum accepted the commission to create the sculpture even though the $10,000 fee (approximately $400,000 in today’s dollars) was far below his normal asking price. Borglum loved the West, and the idea of creating a monument to fallen hero O’Neill caught his fancy. When the monument was dedicated, he attended the ceremony, along with Buckey’s son Maurice and many Prescott residents. This magnificent bronze, which rests on a 28-ton granite boulder taken from a nearby hillside, is considered to be one of Borglum’s finest works. Commissioned by the City of Prescott, it was paid for by area adults and school children.

The impressive grouping Early Settlers at the intersection of Gurley and Sheldon Streets was created by Prescott artist Bill Nebeker, C.A.A., and dedicated in 1985. It is comprised of a mule skinner, gold panner, cowboy, and bonneted woman who shields her eyes against the bright Arizona sun. Originally Nebeker considered adding a soldier from Fort Whipple to the grouping of three men, but after talking to his wife and father, chose instead a pioneer woman to represent the many married and single females who were instrumental in settling the rugged Southwest. During his early years, Nebeker worked with western artist George Phippen where he learned the art of bronze casting. Today his work can be found in galleries and museums throughout the United States.

The exciting Early Rodeo by Richard Terry, dedicated in 1988, is located in front of Prescott City Hall on Cortez and Goodwin. This beautiful piece was commissioned by the Prescott Community Art Trust to celebrate 100 years of rodeo in Prescott. The artist, a graduate of Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff, worked for the Buffalo Bronze Works in Sedona at the time he did Early Rodeo. Terry now resides in Whitehall, Montana, where he continues to work in bronze. Early Rodeo was cast at Skurja Art Castings in Prescott.

The moving All Veterans Memorial, on the west side of Courthouse Plaza, is the fourth of the five bronzes, having been dedicated in 1989. This inspiring tribute to the U.S. Armed Forces was created by native artist Neil Logan as a memorial to Yavapai County veterans who gave their lives in World War I, World War II, Korea and Vietnam. The two soldiers depicted are in Vietnam where one is signaling for a medical helicopter to land and rescue a wounded man. Artist Logan attended Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff after having served in Vietnam for 27 months.

The most recent addition to the downtown bronzes is Cowboy at Rest, on the south side of the courthouse. It was "pointed up" (enlarged) from a miniature by Solon Borglum and dedicated in 1990. The smaller version, entitled The Lookout, was sculpted by Borglum prior to the 1904 Louisiana Purchase Exposition held in St. Louis, Missouri (also known as the St. Louis World’s Fair) where it was exhibited. Prescott’s thought-provoking horse and rider was approved by the Borglum family, commissioned by the Prescott Community Art Trust headed by former Prescott mayor Jerri Wagner, and cast at Skurja Art Castings. Those wishing to see more work by artist Borglum should visit Prescott Valley’s Civic Center, where an outstanding collection of 27 small bronzes is currently on exhibit. A brief written guide is available at the Public Works Department reception desk.

Over the years Prescottonians have continued to promote the creation and installation of major works of art such as the beautiful downtown bronzes. From the 1907 campaign to honor Buckey O’Neill to the continuing efforts of local people and organizations such as the Prescott Community Art Trust and Yavapai College, the residents of Prescott have created a showcase of significant art that is a reflection of the city’s history, traditions, artists, and true pioneer spirit.

(Marguerite Madison Aronowitz recently published the guidebook Art Treasures and Museums In and Around Prescott, Arizona, now available in the museum store, area bookstores, and the Prescott Visitors Center.)

Sharlot Hall Museum Photograph Call Number: (pb110f2p13). Reuse only by permission.

The Courthouse Plaza filled up on July 3, 1907 when Prescott’s most famous statue was dedicated. The author has recently published a detailed guidebook to Prescott’s "art treasures" that tells the story of all of the statues on the Plaza as well as others in our area.

By Richard Gorby

There are two major reasons for most ventures into the Sharlot Hall Museum Archives-a search for family history and/or a search for certain aspects of Prescott history.

For the family historian, genealogical indexes are kept on special shelves. These include marriage, death and burial records, hospital deaths, funeral records, census records, city directories, telephone directories, probate and wills, school yearbooks and many other source materials.

For both family and Prescott history, the first step might be to search the newspapers. In a town of from six hundred to a little more than a thousand citizens during the late 1800′s, almost everything that happened would appear in the Arizona Weekly Miner or Courier. The Sharlot Hall Museum Archives has almost all of the local newspapers starting with the March 4, 1864 edition.

Much of the information related in the newspapers has been catalogued. When searching for information on a specific person, the Archives card index system will lead you to the source. For example, the card index for a Mr. Seed will look like this: "Seed, E. S.

Appointed local agent for C. & A. Stage Co.

See: Weekly Miner, Feb. 18, 1976

Pg, 3-c.1"

Requesting the appropriate microfilm copy of the newspaper and scrolling the edition for the year, date, page and column mentioned, one finds:

"Appointment. -E. S. Seed, lately from California, has been appointed local agent of the C. and A. Stage Co. for Prescott, in place of F. J. Starke, who has hitherto acted in that capacity. Mr. Seed is a competent young man of good habits, and we feel sure will give satisfaction both to his employers and the patrons of the line"

After the genealogical indexes and the newspapers as a source of Prescott history, there are countless letters, photos, maps and other records to be searched through in the archives. This is mostly what the archives has – unpublished materials. However, if someone is seeking published accounts of our area’s history there are many fine books also available.

The following are some of the books that can be found in the Sharlot Hall Museum Archives as well as most libraries in the county and in some bookstores that give a really good overview to our history:

Prescott, a Pictorial History. By Melissa Ruffner, 1981 and reprinted many times since then. The forward by Barry Goldwater states: "This book shows a tremendous amount of research and never in all the reading of history that I’ve done have I seen so much put in one place by one author." With over 300 photos the book covers the periods-The Early Days, 1862 to 1912; Growing Years, 1912 to 1960; and Today and Tomorrow, from 1960 to 1997 in the updated, fifth reprint of this insightful book. This is the most comprehensive history book on our town and a fine starting point for anyone doing history.

Echoes of the Past-Tales of Old Yavapai in Arizona. Vol. 1, 1955. By the Yavapai Cow Belles. This book is a collection of 22 sketches and articles dealing with varied phases and personalities of Yavapai County history mostly in the sense that the county’s history is immersed in the cattle industry. Members of the Cow Belles, the woman’s auxiliary to the Yavapai Cattle Growers Association, wrote most of them. The writing is not always polished and professional, but it rings as clear and inviting as the dinner gong at the ranch house. Included are: "Prescott’s Big Fire," "A Teacher of 1906," "The Pioneer Doctor," "The Cowboys of Old" and many more stories.

Echoes of the Past-Tales of Old Yavapai in Arizona. Vol. 2, 1964. By the Yavapai Cow Belles. This follow-up to the 1955 publication contains a varied collection of 29 tales of Old Yavapai during the past 100 years. The 20 different authors are themselves pioneers or their descendents. George Babbitt, Jr. of Phoenix comments on the book: "The direct or very close association of the contributors of these articles with individual pioneers and original source materials brings depth, authenticity and new facets to the knowledge of our early West." Some of the stories are: "The Miller Story," "A Century of Medicine," "Jerome," "Ghost City in the Sky," "Early Days in Groom Creek," "Old Whiskey Row" and "Life in a Small Hotel."

Meeting the Four O’Clock Train and Other Stories. By Dixon Fagerberg, Jr. 1983. Included are boyhood recollections of Prescott from 1909 to 1927. Eleven articles about the town give details of the neighborhood, downtown, work and play, grammar and high school, ‘The Group’ and more. Like Dewey Born’s book below, this is one of the best published accounts of day-to-day life in early 20th century Prescott.

Stories of Early Prescott By Dewey E. Born, 1997. This anthology contains

14 stories of events in and around early Prescott, such as, "Growing Up in Prescott," "Prescott’s Forgotten Man," "The Big Snows," and many more primary and secondary accounts as remember by the author’s father and the author himself. Born was raised in Prescott and is the 4th generation of a pioneer family that arrived in 1893.

The Many Lives of the Lynx–A Century of Mining on Lynx Creek between 1863 and 1963. By Alvina N. Potter, 1965. This text includes the journey and activities of the Walker Party who entered Arizona in 1863 and discovered Lynx Creek. It also includes many other factual items about the area. The author uses old journals, diaries and letters to recreate the settlement and early life of the mining towns of Walker and Poland in the Bradshaw Mountains southeast of Prescott.

The Santa Fe, Prescott and Phoenix Railway. By John W. Sayre, 1990. The growth of the mining industry in Arizona and the desire for faster and less expensive means for transporting heavy mining equipment and ore resulted in the construction of several railroads in the territory– the Santa Fe, Prescott and Phoenix Railway being one of them. The author comments, "the railway played a vital role in transforming The Arizona Territory from an area rich in natural resources and raw beauty to one rich in social awareness, economic base and quality of life." Railroad history of our area, like mining or ranching, is usually such a big part of our history that this book has good coverage.

It is important to note that these are just a selection of readings that one can find on our area’s history that are general in nature. There is no doubt that many that should have been included on this list have been left off. For example, Pauline Henson’s Founding a Wilderness Capital is basically the resource for early Prescott history, but its scope is limited to the first few years of Prescott’s history. Edmund Wells’ Argonaut Tales is another book that, although a tome in our history, is not really focused enough on Yavapai County.

(Richard Gorby is a volunteer at the Sharlot Hall Museum Archives. Some of these books are available at the Museum’s store or at used bookstores)

Sharlot Hall Museum Photograph Call Number:(st106p). Reuse only by permission.

If you are new to Prescott and want to know "the history of this town" there are some good books that are a fine start. Later on, when you are ready to learn more, come down to the Sharlot Hall Museum’s Archives.

By Al Bates

Late in 1942 a small group of young American men dressed in khaki could be seen practicing their marching skills on the streets of the small rural community of Prescott, Arizona.

On closer look, their garb was far from uniform. While all wore khaki shirts and pants, some wore web belts round their waists while others wore belts of leather. Some wore black shoes while others wore brown. They were all bareheaded, and only a few wore any insignia.

Who were these 28 young men and what were they doing in the mountains of central Arizona far from any military base in the first year of America’s participation in World War II?

The answer is that they were US Navy flight cadets enlisted in a unique training program designed to solve a vexing problem. This was the first group of young men selected for the Navy’s V5 aviator training program. Prescott was one of three sites in Arizona used for this training. The other cadet training flights were located at Arizona State Teachers College at Tempe and at Phoenix Junior College.

The American armed forces had a serious problem. The industrial might of America was beginning to provide all the materials necessary to fight a multi-front war. Tanks and ships and planes were rolling off assembly lines in ever increasing numbers but there was a lack of trained men to operate them.

The rapidly expanding pilot training programs were producing disappointing results because of unacceptable attrition rates. Sadly, despite rigorous physical testing, many of the young men accepted for flight training lacked the innate skills to become military pilots and for some of them–and their instructors–the discovery was a fatal one.

A better way was needed to weed out the unsuited without the loss of life and expensive military equipment. Thus was born the Navy V5 Civilian Pilot Training program. The reasoning went, if we require our fledgling pilots to first acquire private pilot licenses by training in lightweight civilian planes they will know enough of the basics to be better able to absorb the intense training required to fly high-performance military aircraft.

Recruiters fanned out over the western states looking for young men for the 13-week program. The men they signed up were typically 20 years old, two years out of high school, and working or going to college while waiting for the draft to call. It was an easy sell. Being up in the clouds as a pilot looked to many to be much better than slogging thru mud or dust as an infantryman.

Bill Travis was one of only four Arizonans in the first group to train at Prescott; the rest were from Southern California. Travis was working at the Prescott Post Office when the recruiters arrived in mid-1942. A train trip to California for physical testing was followed by a month’s wait for assignment to a training group. In September 1942 the notice came to report to a location just a few blocks south of his boyhood home.

The cadets were required to buy their own "uniforms" of khaki shirts and pants and leather flight jackets. J. C. Penny Co. was suggested as a suitable source for the clothes. There was no further description of suitable clothing for the cadets.

As the only local recruit, Travis felt himself a bit of an outsider, and sensed resentment because he was less than enthusiastic about introducing his classmates to the local young women. His help wasn’t all that necessary as the area’s supply of young men was already depleted and a number of young ladies were on the lookout for male escorts. Two of the Californians returned to Prescott after the war and married local girls.

The flight was housed and fed in an abandoned tuberculosis sanatorium located an easy walk from the pleasures of Prescott’s famed "Whiskey Row." Since none of the young men had cars this was a favorable situation. Besides, the bartenders weren’t picky about age for someone in "uniform."

Living quarters at the clapboard sided St. Luke’s Sanatorium were Spartan and included sleeping on screen porches equipped with canvas roll-down blinds to keep out the worst of the weather. Strict military rules were established, and passes were required to go to town, but as at any other military installation located near entertainment the rules often were treated as challenges to be overcome.

Flight instruction was held at Love Field north of Prescott. Ground school instruction was held at the old sanatorium and at Love Field. All of the flight instructors were civilians, mostly too old for military service. The administration and most of the ground school instructors were recruited from Glendale California Junior College.

Only the radio instructor was recruited locally. Prescott appliance-store owner A. D. Fee, a former Navy radioman, instructed the cadets in the mysteries of Morse code, a skill many never grew comfortable with. Travis admits that he became much happier when voice radio gear became standard.

The flight training was in Piper Cubs and Luscombe lightweight, high wing, fixed landing-gear aircraft. The Luscombe was preferred by some of the cadets because, unlike the fabric covered Cubs, its body and wings were metal covered and it also had a larger engine. To their disappointment, the bigger engine gave it no better performance than the Cub because of its additional weight.

The program’s safety rate was outstanding. There were no fatalities in its two years of operation in Prescott. The only remembered crash came when an overly aggressive cadet on a solo flight decided to chase a herd of antelope over the grasslands of Lonesome Valley north and east of Prescott. His was neither the first nor last episode of antelope harassment, and he walked away from the crash. Boys would be boys, and Travis admits to later flying under both the Golden Gate and Oakland Bay bridges on the same foggy day shortly after qualifying for carrier duty.

The program continued for two years. Later cadet classes included fledgling Army Air Corps pilots and glider pilots for the invasion of Europe.

After earning private pilots’ wings at Prescott the Cadets moved on to advanced training and commissioning. Travis served carrier duty in the Pacific, flying torpedo bombers to the end of the war. He returned to Prescott; married his high school sweetheart; returned to the Post Office; and has lived for almost 60 years in a house within a half-mile of where he lived and trained as a Cadet.

Surviving members of Prescott’s first V5 class have kept in contact through the years. Twelve of them showed up for a 50th anniversary gathering in 1992 and there are hopes to repeat the event in 2002.

(Al Bates is a researcher and frequent contributor to Days Past)

By Mona Lange McCroskey

Recently the community of Prescott community lost a very remarkable lady. Services for Martha Yount Caldwell were held at the Congregational Church, a block from where she was born in 1912, soon after Arizona attained statehood. Martha had deep roots in Prescott. Her grandfather, John Criley, was a pioneer physician who came here in the 1890s, followed by her father, Dr. Clarence E. Yount, who emigrated to Arizona as a health seeker and married Dr. Criley’s daughter Clara. Dr. and Mrs. Yount established their first home on the corner of Marina and Gurley Streets next door to the Congress Hotel, where the Hassayampa Inn now stands. Martha grew up in that neighborhood where she attended Washington School and the church, went to and participated in musical presentations at the Elks Theater and the Monday Club, shared dinners with her family at the Yavapai Club, and was a regular patron at the Carnegie Library. She ventured across town to the zoo at the top of Park Avenue. She was very involved in the music programs at the old Prescott High School on Gurley Street, where she graduated in the Class of 1930.

Martha’s love affair with horses began when she was a small child. She had a pony and a cart. When the family moved to 212 South Mount Vernon Street, she rode stable horses belonging to "Doc" Pardee, in Forbing Park. She learned to ride on her father’s McClellan saddle. When Martha moved to Tucson to attend the University of Arizona she became a member of Desert Riders, an honorary riding society, with whom she rode in parades and competed in horse shows in Tucson and Phoenix. Martha came home to Prescott for the summer and worked as recreational director at the Mountain Club where she taught horsemanship and staged mounted trials and shows. She even played polo at the fairgrounds. English riding and jumping became her specialty. Martha rode roundup with Bob Perkins on an English saddle with a piggin’ string through the ring. The cowboys hooted and kidded her about her "postage stamp," but she gained their respect with her expertise.

At the University of Arizona Martha majored in education, with a minor in English. She sang in churches of many denominations with the oratorio society, and did her student teaching with the Sisters of Carandolet. Her first year of "real" teaching (1936-37) was spent in the one-room schoolhouse in Peeples Valley, where she lived in the attached teacherage. With her small student body she produced a Christmas play, explored the surrounding countryside with picnic lunches, sledded when it snowed, and put on a profitable spring carnival. When it came time to make holiday presents there was no construction paper or plaster of Paris. Instead, Martha ordered a steer hide, borrowed tools from her brother Bob and learned to use them. She in turn taught tooling and her students, all from ranching families, made leather gifts for their families. What a year that must have been for her pupils! Martha herself described it as the "most educational year of my life," teaching, but not by the book. She also taught (and practiced) first aid and was instrumental in establishing numerous first aid stations at service stations and out-of-the-way places in Yavapai County.

Martha Yount taught until Pearl Harbor Day was attacked on her brother’s birthday. That made her mad and she marched down to the recruiter’s office to enlist. When the recruiter told her he had no place for her, she replied, "You better get something." She was inducted into the WAACs and sent to Officers’ Candidate School at Ft. Des Moines. As a second lieutenant assigned to a variety of duties she served at Devens, Massachusetts; Daytona Beach, Florida; Oglethorpe, Georgia; and Ft. Monmouth, New Jersey where she met and fell in love with Millard "Skinny" Caldwell. They were married "between troop trains" and after a four-day honeymoon her new husband was sent to Europe where he was captured while flying "The Hump." Martha was scheduled to join him, but "the story and the State Department couldn’t get together." Skinny died in prison camp without ever meeting his son, Martin. Martha returned to Prescott with her son and became the city’s first uniformed policewoman in 1952. She tired of the mostly menial duties assigned to her, and when in 1955 Abia Judd offered her a teaching job she resigned from the police department to return to the classroom. She then taught fourth grade at Lincoln School for twenty-two years, until 1977, and is remembered fondly by her students. She delighted in seeing them in later years and watching their families grow.

Martha Caldwell Joined the Prescott Corral of Westerners International in 1968. She served as keeper of the chips, or treasurer, for years and was honored with a lifetime membership. She was active in Rainbow and Eastern Star, where she and Hazel Deming teamed up as a calling committee. Martha remarked that even though Hazel was blind, she knew more people and how to get around town better than she did! She was a proud grandmother (emphasis Martha’s) who attended and supported all of the sports competitions, school activities, and dance recitals of her grandchildren. She remains a guardian angel on the sidelines of all Prescott High School athletic events and leaves a precious legacy for her son and her grandchildren. Truly, hers is a life to celebrate!

(Mona McCroskey is a research historian at the Sharlot Hall Museum. This article was written from a 1991 oral history interview the author conducted with Martha Yount Caldwell.)

Sharlot Hall Museum Photograph Call Number:(po2443p). Reuse only by permission.

"Skinny", in uniform, and Martha Caldwell with an unidentified man in 1946. Martha’s remarkable life has been highlighted by twenty-two years of teaching at Lincoln School and a few years before that as a Prescott’s first woman police officer. She passed away in August of this year.

by Parker Anderson

Every once in a while, someone will strike up a conversation with me regarding Prescott’s various reputed "haunted" sites. I enjoy the subject, but in reality, Prescott is probably one of the least haunted cities in America. Whether you believe in ghosts or not, there are not that many purported hauntings in the Prescott area, so the same stories are told over and over again.

Perhaps our most famous ghost is "Abby," who reportedly haunts room 16 of the Hotel Vendome. While some workers do say that footsteps are heard in the room, and the bell sometimes rings for service when the room is vacant, there still are many guests who sleep in the room every year without incident. If Abby really is there, she only appears sporadically. I used to know personally someone who worked there-while he admitted to hearing sounds coming from the room that he couldn’t explain, he still assured me he didn’t believe in ghosts.

Out near Lynx Creek lies the lonely grave of a two-year old child, Angeline Hoagland. Over the years, many college students have camped out at the gravesite hoping to get a glimpse of her spirit that reputedly haunts the site. It is largely accepted today that the ghost stories probably originated because Angeline’s tombstone is made from a luminous rock. Therefore, if your car headlights hit the rock, it glows brightly! Admittedly, I have also heard stories that certain people have actually seen Angeline’s spirit in "little girl" form, but since they were second-hand tales, I don’t’ put much stock in them.

The Prescott Fine Arts theatre, formerly the old Sacred Heart Parish, is certainly a great place for a ghost, and there reputedly is one. However, during my many years of involvement in Prescott theatre, I have witnessed the story of the PFAA ghost evolve as it went from storyteller to storyteller.

When I first arrived at PFAA in 1987, the ghost was said to be female, and the staff referred to her as "Sophie." Later on as the story went along over the years, the ghost changed gender and became the specter of the priest who is, in actuality, buried under the spot where the altar used to be. Staff then started to call him "Father Michael" whenever they heard unexplained thumping sounds, and the name has stuck, even though it was later discovered the interred priest’s name was actually Father Edmond.

Perhaps my favorite Prescott ghost story is the least known. As I heard it second or third hand, I doubt its veracity, but it was still fun to hear. Back in 1981, Claude Cline (then the owner of all of Prescott’s movie theatres) sold all of his properties, including the Elks Theatre. The new owner of the Elks proceeded to so some interior remodeling, which included the installation of a huge ceiling chandelier.

One evening, so the story goes, the workers were getting ready to leave the Elks, when they heard a sound of glass tinkling. They looked up and saw the transparent form of a little girl swinging from the chandelier. Needless to say, they ran out of the building as fast as they could. A true story? I doubt it, but that’s what makes ghost stories so appealing-not knowing if they are really true or false.

Prescott’s colorful history is very conducive to ghost stories; that’s why these tales are told and retold. Scores of people visit the Hotel Vendome and Angeline’s grave annually, hoping to see something strange. But, one has to wonder, would they do if they really did see something out of the ordinary?

(Parker Anderson is a playwright and actor with the Blue Rose Theater)

Sharlot Hall Museum Photograph Call Number:(buc1042pa). Reuse only by permission.

The Sacred Heart church, now the Prescott Fine Arts Association building, on the Northwest corner of Willis and Marina streets has been endowed with a ghost, but the stories of this ghost shift with each telling. The author believes that there are not that many purported hauntings in the Prescott area, so the same stories are told over and over again.