Rogue Columnist

Four topics for your week

The photo above shows Central and Southern avenues in 1930. When I post pics like this on Vintage Phoenix, Arizona Memories, and Phoenix Shadetree History groups on Facebook, the reaction is "wow!" Indeed, it's a wow view. Then, "What happened?" "How could we lose this?"

Most people living in metropolitan Phoenix today have no living memory of the oasis created by the Salt River Valley. Most don't care. "We live in a desert," they gloat as they throw down gravel. Actually, you live in what was an oasis. But thousands of shade trees were torn out to widen streets or by Salt River Project along the canals. In their place: Asphalt, concrete, and gravel. Oh, and cooling grass ("turf") must go.

The Mayor pledges to plant more trees, but I'm skeptical. With a federal grant, the city pledges to "plant native and drought-resistant trees such as mesquite, Chinese pistache, or desert acacia. Likewise, they'll avoid water-hungry trees like palms." She's very woke, interested in "tree equity." I think we'll get palo verdes and little shade.

Too bad for Phoenix as the summers keep getting hotter and lasting longer. So much was lost.

Cities, past and future

Downtown Cincinnati at night, seen from across the Ohio River.

A reader asked me to write about what Phoenix might learn from cities in the Midwest. It’s a challenging assignment, also one freighted with paradox considering so many Phoenicians come from the same region. Nevertheless, I'll put my shoulder to the wheel.

I lived in Cincinnati when I worked for the Cincinnati Enquirer in the 1990s. Churchill called it America's most beautiful inland city decades before and I found it the same when I was there. So, this puts me in a position to examine advantages, challenges, and lessons. Like all Midwestern cities, Cincinnati is much older than Phoenix. It was founded in 1788, named after the Society of the Cincinnati, Revolutionary War veterans honoring the Roman general offered the dictatorship of Rome, but went back to his farm. He was an apt comparison to George Washington. Cincinnati was the Queen City of the West, although the West moved on.

It has numerous advantages. Cincinnati is built on hills rolling down to the Ohio River, distinctive neighborhoods, a dense downtown, architecture jewels such as Union Terminal (above right) — now mostly a museum center but also served by Amtrak — Over the Rhine which is a National Urban Historic Landmark, and major corporate headquarters, including Procter and Gamble whose offices are downtown.

Cincinnati's numerous cultural institutions are crowned by music: The Cincinnati Symphony, Cincinnati Pops, Chamber Orchestra, May Festival, and the University of Cincinnati's College-Conservatory of Music. In addition to UC, Cincinnati offers other universities in and near the city, including Miami, my graduate alma mater and one of the original "Public Ivies."

Chips on our shoulders

No, this isn't a photograph of the much-hyped Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co. plant in Phoenix, but therein lies part of the tale. Above is the high-speed passenger rail station in Hsinchu, Taiwan (technically, the Republic of China). But USA USA can't have nice things. Amtrak hasn't served Phoenix since 1994, making it the most populous city in North America without intercity passenger trains.

Boosters claim the fabrication plant, or fab, will create 21,000 construction jobs and 4,500 permanent positions, as well as $40 billion invested at build-out. This is part of President Biden's effort to make America less reliant on overseas chip makers, especially in the People’s Republic of China. Be skeptical about the claim of permanent jobs because advanced fabs are highly automated.

One big problem for Phoenix is that the fab is located on Interstate 17 and Dove Valley Road, nearly to Carefree Highway. This makes it totally car dependent, adding to congestion and smog. The company says "making sustainability is a priority." Sure.

Drug stores of old Phoenix

Growing up in the neighborhood north of downtown Phoenix in the 1960s, later to become Willo, I was bracketed by drug stores. Ryan-Evans was on the southeast corner of Seventh Avenue and McDowell Road in a shopping strip including the Sprouse-Reitz five-and-dime store. My Florist was across the street with its dazzling neon sign.

At Central and McDowell was McCreary's Drugs. Farther south at Third Avenue and Roosevelt was a Rexall. And another drug store was located at Fifth Avenue and Thomas. Most had soda fountains. Alas, I lack photos of these boyhood haunts. But let's take a tour of Phoenix’s ubiquitous small drug stores before they were supplanted by a handful of giant chains. Above is Sun Drug at First Avenue and Monroe in 1947. At right is First Methodist Church.

Birch's Drugs at Third Street and Roosevelt, part of a thriving block of shops and long before urban pioneers reclaimed the area as Roosevelt Row (McCulloch Bros. Collection/ASU Archives).

Walgreen's, before it became one of the giant chains of today, on the northwest corner of Central and Washington in the 1940s (McCulloch Bros. Collection/ASU Archives).

Broiling point

Phoenix doesn't lack for national news coverage this month, but the headlines aren't likely to please the local-yokel boosters.

From the New York Times: "In Phoenix, Heat Becomes a Brutal Test of Endurance." "Phoenix Breaks Heat Record Set in 1974." And, "In Phoenix, Firefighters Battle an Invisible Inferno."

From the Washington Post: "Phoenix will be the first major U.S. city to average 100-plus degrees all month," "Phoenix hits record for 19th day of 110-plus degrees — with more to come," and "A Phoenix power outage amid a heat wave could possibly kill thousands, study says."

The only comfort I can take is that the newspapers used Phoenix in their headlines, not "the Valley." (Which Valley? Silicon Valley? The San Fernando Valley?" "San Joaquin Valley?" "Red River Valley — of the north or of the south?" "Valley of the Jolly — Ho Ho Ho — Green Giant?).

I spent a month in my hometown in June and it was plenty hot and getting hotter. The day we flew out of Sky Harbor it was 111 degrees. But that was only the overture to this hellish July. I could say I told you so, but what would be the point? I've been doing Phoenix for 15 years and little has changed for the better beyond ASU downtown, infill for the Central Corridor and light rail (WBIYB). Our most insightful commenters have gone away, but thanks to those who remain.

Sedona

The challenge of writing a history of Sedona is that Arizona's population is 7.4 million. As a result, most people associate the city with resorts, art galleries, restaurants, and shopping at Tlaquepaque or in Uptown Sedona, hiking through the red rock country, and Oak Creek Canyon, all easily accessible on wide highways. A few may recall the incident in 2009 where a self-help guru killed three people, baked to death in a sweat lodge.

And the "spiritual vortices." New Age tourism is big business. Bell Rock, Airport Mesa, Cathedral Rock, and Boynton Canyon are considered to be vortexes of unique power. The "Harmonic Convergence" was held here in 1987. Sedona also offers a film festival and chamber music program.

In the 2000s, I did several book signings at the Well Red Coyote bookstore (now sadly gone) and gave speeches to Kiwanis and Rotary. It was an easy hop up Interstate 17 and Arizona 179 from Phoenix.

The problem for me is that it's not the Sedona I remember as a child, when the state had 1.3 million people. Sedona was harder to reach, with far fewer people, and a charming row of shops, including a restaurant called The Turtle. The Red Rock Country was empty and majestic. I'm grumpy company on a road trip.

Tucson through the years

The Old Pueblo was founded in 1775, a year before the Declaration of Independence was signed two-thirds of a continent away, by Irishman Hugh O'Conor working in service to Spain. The presidio he established survived repeated Apache attacks, isolation, and Mexico's takeover after it broke away from the Spanish Empire. If not for the Gadsden Purchase in 1854, Tucson would have remained in Mexico.

As of 2022, Tucson was Arizona's second most populous city — for now, at least, it's 546,674 vs. Mesa's 512,498. But it has some of Arizona's richest history. Let's take a photographic tour (click for a larger image):

Mission San Xavier del Bac in 1915. It was founded just south of the future Tucson by Father Kino in 1700.

Barrio Libre, 17th and Kennedy streets in Tucson, circa 1890 (Library of Congress).

Another view of Barrio Libre (Library of Congress).

Many of Tucson's historic barrios have been spruced up in recent years.

The 2023 to Yuma

For most people, Yuma is a stop by the Colorado River at the California border on Interstate 8 for gas and fast food, or for retirement in one of the hottest cities in the United States, to be enveloped in agriculture that moved down from the Salt River Valley without the rich, alluvial soil of American Eden.

But Yuma is much more: Rich in history, it's the place along with Tucson where American settlement began. Where boats could come up the Colorado delta unhindered by dams upstream. Now, with a population of nearly 96,000, it's worth our time.

Gallery (click on photo for a larger image):

Fort Yuma in 1875.

Horse-drawn water in the 1890s (Library of Congress).

The first locomotive in Arizona, Yuma 1877. The Southern Pacific built east across the state.

Yuma's handsome Southern Pacific depot.

A Pullman porter and conductor await passengers on the SP early in the 20th century (City of Yuma).

A street-level view of the SP depot, since demolished.