Encanto Park in old Phoenix

A city such as Cincinnati built great parks, from the showpiece Eden Park, home to the Cincinnati Playhouse, Cincinnati Art Museum, Kron Conservatory and Mirror Lake Fountain, to the exquisitely designed Ault Park near the tony Mount Lookout and Hyde Park neighborhoods. Eastsiders who won't venture beyond the "Sauerkraut Curtain" may not even know about Mt. Echo Park, one of my favorites with its awesome views of downtown and the Ohio River.

The Queen City of the West had the good fortune to come of age in the golden age of park design and have the wealth to pull it off. Phoenix, a modest farm town at this time, built only one: Encanto. That makes it all the more a civic treasure. This Saturday Encanto Park will celebrate its 75th anniversary.

I write this not to take away from the city's achievement with desert parks, especially South Mountain Park and Papago Park. But they are what they are, often stunning preserves of the Sonoran Desert for hardy hikers and, more often, drivers.

Encanto was different, built as an oasis of shade and grass and City Beautiful Movement design, meant for people, picnics and strolling. Now more than ever, you can feel the instant cooling of the park and golf courses when you drive south of Thomas on 15th Avenue on a summer night. It's not like the Midwest — for that kind of lush greenery, look to Cincinnati. It lacks the size and resources that Los Angeles could put into Griffith Park. Encanto, inspired by San Diego's grand Balboa Park, is its own enchanted feat. It is a capsule of old Phoenix, a magical refutation of those who say "Phoenix has no soul."

I grew up with old Encanto Park. It began three blocks from our house on Cypress and was a captivating place for a child. I fished in the lagoon more times than I can remember, never catching a thing (although my more proficient buddies caught bass and sunfish). A lasting memory is heading out of the house with fishing rod and tackle box to spend an afternoon at the park. There were no chauffeured "play dates" or the isolation of "master planned communities."

Encanto was built to be an organic part of its neighborhoods, blending seamlessly into Palmcroft. I watched the paddle boats and canoes, occasionally having enough money to use them. Concerts in the now-gone bandshell filled the night air. I swam in the pool — pools not being ubiquitous in those neighborhoods outside Palmcroft — and earned my archery merit badge at the range there. Kiddieland (now Enchanted Island) had rides and sno-cones; my favorite attraction was the train, which back then was painted in Southern Pacific "Daylight" colors to mimic the passenger trains that still served Phoenix. This was my young world. I looked across the green expanse and saw the skyscrapers along Central, thinking this must be the most wonderful city in the world.

William Hartranft, who developed Palmcroft, was the head of the first Phoenix Parks Board and father of Encanto Park. The 222 acres were purchased from J.W. Dorris and a veterinarian Dr. James C. Norton (his grand house in 15th Avenue has long housed park offices). Before construction began in 1934, the land was largely used to graze cattle and for Norton's grove of fruit trees. It was outside the city limits.

New Deal money was largely responsible for funding development of the park, including the clubhouse, bandshell, lagoon, 18-hole golf course, archery range and other features. Hundreds of shade trees were planted. The swimming pool was added in 1951.

Unfortunately, Phoenix never built another park like Encanto. Some beginnings were made with Coronado Park on 12th Street and Eastlake Park on Jefferson, but they never were seen through. The Depression, World War II, sprawl and car culture swept away even the memory of good park design, much less a willingness to invest in such oases (and Eastlake was in the 'hood, commanding no attention by the Anglo establishment).

Later parks, from Maryvale to the deck park (I hesitate to use the name Margaret Hance, considering how much damage to the central city she did as mayor) never fulfilled their potential. Steele Indian School Park is a sad joke, landlocked by blighted "investment" land and lacking shade, when it could have been a true Central Park of Phoenix. Still, I know these older, lesser green oases had their good memories for generations of Phoenicians.

Encanto was badly mauled in 2008 by one of those increasingly violent monsoon storms caused by the heat island, losing 120 old-growth shade trees. And while there are ideas to restore and enhance the park, most of the city's population has probably never even been to Encanto, much less have either ties of the heart to it or recognize it as a civic gem that should be pampered (and replicated elsewhere).

I don't trust the City of Phoenix. It's not just the budget restraints from the region's ongoing depression. City leaders, like many newcomers, have made a fetish about throwing down gravel and planting shadeless Palo Verde trees around town "(It's a desert!"). This is one thing if you live in the desert areas of the city, such as the fascinating neighborhood just north of the Papago Park military reservation or in Sunnyslope. But it's terribly destructive if done in the heart of the city, a timeless, water-fed oasis that needs shade trees and grass more than ever to combat the urban heat island and climate change. Let's hope the citizens of Friends of Encanto Park and other groups get it.

I recall a story saying "nothing could be done" about the lost trees. That's madness. Plant new ones. Future generations will thank you. And no rocks, please. Happy birthday, my beloved Encanto.

Gallery — Encanto Park (click on the photo for a larger image):

Nearly new in 1940, the Encanto Park bandshell (Russell Lee, Library of Congress).

An overhead view looking southwest toward the Fairgrounds in the 1950s.

The KiddieLand train, when it was in the Daylight colors of the Southern Pacific Railroad.

The Boathouse as seen in the 1940s.

Two decades later, a paddleboat in the lagoon.

The shady, grassy area beside the water made an inviting spot for children who wanted to fish in the 1960s.

Canoers enjoy a splendid day while a young man (not me) tries his luck with the fishing pole.

In 1983, the park was still as lush and lovely.

Canoeing on the Encanto Park Lagoon in the 1960s (Lawrence De Leon Sr. collection).

I spent many hours growing up fishing in the lagoon.

The olympic-sized pool on the south side of Encanto Boulevard (Brad Hall collection).

Encanto Park in the 2010s.

The waterfall lit for the evening, with the Midtown skyline as backdrop.

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My book, A Brief History of Phoenix, is available to buy or order at your local independent bookstore, or from Amazon.

Read more Phoenix history in Rogue's Phoenix 101 archive.

 

Comments

[soleri]

I recall the reonovation of Encanto Park in the late 80s. It seemed to emerge from the Neo-Soviet aparatchiks of the Parks Department where water conservation, charmless utility, and parking were the overriding values. For all the crushed granite and defoliated grounds, the architecture itself prevailed in spite of this mugging. Still, it couldn't compare to the park I knew as a youth. Its lushness was incredible. The lagoon had swans through the mid-60s (vandals finally took them out). And the lighting was softer unlike today's maximum-security prison ambience.

I was a member of Encanto pool's swim team in the 50s and early 60s. Swimming competitions were a big deal back then and there were about a dozen different teams in the city back then. The meets were well-attended and figured prominently in the sports' pages. Just a note in passing: Charlie Hickox died five months ago, one of Arizona's greatest swimmers and three-time Olympic gold medalist. He went to Washington High, which didn't field a swim team so he trained at country-club facilities. But he was a legend in our circles.

I'm in a running group that jogs through the park and golf course every Wednesday evening. The rest rooms are no longer available due to budget cuts and the park itself feels underused and unloved. There's a new ornamental gate on Encanto Blvd, however, that is a grace note. I understand that as the city changed the park needed to adapt to those changes. Encanto Park remains, less enchanted but still a jewel in a city despairing of the love it once bestowed so freely.

[Rate Crimes]

If you ever have the opportunity to attend a talk by Tucson's Brad Lancaster, do so. He talks about Tucson's rich riverside cottonwood forests that disappeared long ago. The antique pictures of that forest are a stunning vision.

http://www.harvestingrainwater.com/

[Rate Crimes]

Once again, Seattle's parks blow away anything within the Phoenix metro area. I love the desert, but the mountain parks within Phoenix now only exhibit how bad the city's air pollution has become. From the peak of Camelback, where one could once witness blue skies in some directions, one is now surrounded by the ubiquitous brown cloud. One must now travel out to the Peralta Trail to find a peaceful desert hike with blue horizons.

Just imagine how 8 million people would kick up desert dust to choke each other!

[Rate Crimes]

The few times I visited Encanto, I was less than charmed. For me, a park requires topology. Even the somewhat artificial Kiwanis Park is more attractive to my mind.

Having spent some time in London and Tokyo, I think it's fair to say that Phoenix is a wasteland with regards to urban public parks. During the suburban explosion, several orders of magnitude more has been invested in exclusive golf courses than urban parks in Phoenix. 'nuff said.

[Rogue Columnist]

Thanks, Soleri, for reminding me of the swans. Such a loss.

[Rate Crimes]

"I recall a story saying 'nothing could be done' about the lost trees. That's madness." - Rogue

Madness, indeed. Were all the lost trees of the same age?

[Jim Hamblin]

Fanning out to the East from Encanto, we're blessed with an assortment of historical districts that have gradually become more desirable in comparison to living in the 'burbs and driving forever. We spent Thanksgiving at a lovely backyard celebration in the Country Club district and were reminded of Phoenix at its best. The host had a cool 70 year old brick bungalow that would be termed a crackerbox by those who thought (until 2008) that 4,000 sq. ft. of faux Tuscan was living high. Today, by contrast, a $70,000 mortgage looks pretty good. Reminds me of the 3 Little Pigs.

[phxSUNSfan]

I absolutely love Encanto Park and the new Entrada is a great little addition that was paid for by the Friends. Replanting of flowers and trees can be done by volunteers at any time. If you wish to do so, just give the office at Encanto a ring and they can give you details.

As for the swans, they have been replaced for some time now. I remember my niece being chased by one briefly when she got too close. They are beautiful but not as nice as the ducks! The central parks in Phoenix are really making a strong come back.

From large to small neighborhood islands, the center city is very green and canopies will provide shade to the newly planted areas in relatively short time in Civic Space Park, Portland Park (trees already reaching large size), to Steele Park. I'm somewhat shocked to read that Jon isn't fond of the changes taking place at Steele in the past few years (especially the restoration of the historic buildings of the Indian School). http://downtownvoices.org/2008/10/25/grand-opening-set-for-phoenix-steele-indian-school-park%E2%80%99s-restored-memorial-hall/

I look forward to the changes and investments that will be coming to Hance Park soon. What I would like to see happen at both Hance and Steele is a reduction of parking spaces. There is no need for the small lot west of 3rd Ave towards Kenilworth. In the last two years, use of the parks in the central city has skyrocketed and emptying only at night. It is great to be a part of a neighborhood and community that has returned to public spaces such as these in the urban areas.

[Rob Spindler]

A couple of data points about Eastlake Park: In 1899 Eastlake was the site of a series of football games between the Phoenix Indian School, Phoenix High School, the Tempe Normal School and visiting teams from Prescott and other AZ cities. Hundreds paid 25 cents to watch the scrum-like football of the day. A special train was run from Tempe to accommodate fans of the Normals.

In April, 1963 the Maricopa County NAACP and local churches organized an event at Eastlake honoring the centennial of the Emancipation Proclamation. This event, the sit in at the El Ray Cafe that summer, Lincoln Ragsdale's Sunday radio show on KCAC and Martin Luther King's June 1964 speech at ASU were all factors leading to passage of the first Arizona public accommodations bill in the fall of 1964.

[Erick Baron]

Amazing what you find when you Google "Encanto Park". I, too, grew up a few blocks from the park. I came from 17th ave and Encanto. We fished the lagoon, rode our bikes to lover's island, paddled or canoed when we had a few dollars. I can't believe they let us shoot arrows toward Encanto Boulevard. Does anyone remember the fire pit with the log stools around it? I got ID numbers stamped into my bike frame at the fire house on 13?th ave. What a great place to grow up. I spent my days at Franklin elementary on McDowell and my nights at the Encanto 9 golf course. I miss my old stomping grounds, but I know they are not the same. I live way up in Quebec now where it is just as cold as Phoenix is hot. Enjoy the Phoenix winter.

[Pat Poulson]

As a kid in late 1940 and early 50’s living near 24th Street & Indian School I would ride my bike to Encanto Park to fish. The lagoon banks were earthen then, unlike concrete-lined as now. I was a fishing nut and caught a 18-inch largemouth bass on my first artificial lure (red & white Heddon River Runt). Never could I have imagined that one day I would be a 30-year resident of historic Del Norte Place on Vernon Avenue, a block west of the site of a significant memory of my youth.

[Terry Wilcox]

My Grandfather, George H. Hillis was the first Superintendent of parks for Phoenix.
He served from 1934 until 1944. During that time Encanto Park was established along with several other parks. My grandmother said he helped design Encanto and put the first ducks in the lagoon.

[Sue Heim]

I loved Encanto Park. Many days after school at Franklin we would head to the park. My grandmother lived on Veron and us in Palmcroft. Such treasured memories!

[Marty Manning]

.Apparently I am 6 months older than the park, and we both have undergone significant changes. I too fished at Encanto including the Labor Day Weekend fishing derbies. I even won the sportmanship award one year for returning for more fishing after a quick trip to St Joe's to have a fishing hook(worm and all!) removed from my head. I have lots of photos of family picnics dating back to 1953 and I seem to remember that you lost your deposit if you were dripping wet when you returned your canoe to the boathouse! We didn't really know it at the time, but looking back we realize this was a great place to grow up for those of us early in the Baby Boom years.

[Mariam Cheshire]

Fred Cheshire taught math to 7th & 8th graders at Royal Palm from 1969 for fifteen years. Weekends and summers he ran an archery program at Encanto Park that touched perhaps 150 people a year.
One year half of the U.S. Olympic team got its start with Fred at Encanto and two archers continued on to play in the Olympics. Other high school and college teams practiced at Encanto winning state and national titles.
“Worries Won’t Happen – Fred’s Story”** includes many of the activities at Encanto in those early years. As one of his archers said, “Encanto Park had such a great feel about it. It was so comfortable. People hung out for a day there.” **available on Amazon and Kindle.