Van Buren Street east of 24th Street in the 1950s. Across the street is the State Hospital.
Between the glory days of the railroads and the completion of the Interstates, most visitors and newcomers to Phoenix arrived on the United States Highway System. Not for us the legendary muse Route 66 or the Lincoln Highway, the first transcontinental improved road that became U.S. 1, 40 and 50.
When the system was created in 1925 to standardize the many named highways that existed, Phoenix probably had a population of 35,000. It was isolated and difficult to reach, with formidable mountains to the east and north and forbidding desert to the west. Phoenix's coveted agricultural produce was shipped by refrigerated railcars. What Phoenix did eventually gain were U.S. 60, 70 and 80, along with U.S. 89.
U.S. 60 evolved from the many "auto trails" and plans for highways in the early 20th century, including the Atlantic and Pacific Highway. U.S. 70 joined it on the east at Globe. U.S. 80, which gained its own folklore history elsewhere in the country, came east from San Diego to also join U.S. 60 in Phoenix. In addition, U.S. 89 came north to Phoenix from Tucson. The map looked like this in 1950:
And all four U.S. highways converged on Van Buren Street, which for decades was the gateway to the city and lined with "auto courts" and motels, all set off with neon signs to lure weary travelers. The Sierra Estrellas Web site offers a detailed history of the many motels and Douglas Towne wrote an interesting meditation on Van Buren for Modern Phoenix. Another aspect of U.S. 60: It was the demarcation for the internment of Japanese-Americans during World War II. All living and farming south of U.S. 60 were interned, including those on Baseline Road.
With Van Buren being the repository of so much local highway history, two other gateways risk being forgotten: Grand Avenue and Buckeye Road. The WPA-built rail underpass on 17th Avenue south of the capitol shows the route where U.S. 80 separated from Van Buren, turned south and then west on Buckeye, which was also lined with small motels. Grand, the only diagonal in the young city's street grid, was another neon-lit boulevard carrying U.S. 60 to Los Angeles via Wickenburg and U.S. 89 to Prescott up terrifying Yarnell Hill.
This 1956 map shows central Phoenix before freeways, where most travelers came through the city on highways or the railroads.
As others note, none of these avenues was what they degenerated into as Phoenix aged and sprawled, leaving them to die, letting proud Van Buren become synonymous with streetwalkers and inner-city blight.
In their best years, from the 1940s into the early 1960s, they marked a paradise for travelers. The West was much less populous then. Unlike much of the country east of the 98th meridian, a decent-sized town didn't materialize every 40 miles or so. Cars, for all their popularity, were less reliable, especially in hot weather. In 1950, the entire population of the United States was half of what it is today, mostly living east of the Mississippi River.
In the West, outside of coastal California, these were two-lane thoroughfares, true "blue highways" of the kind celebrated by William Least Heat Moon in his lyrical book of the same name. Imagine the traveler's delight as he or she returned to civilization in beautiful Phoenix, especially as air conditioning ("it's cool inside!") and swimming pools proliferated.
They were the also arteries of an already important tourism industry. In addition to motels and cafes, "curio," Indian and Western wear shops lined the highways. And bars, of course. This was the West.
The Coconut Grove in its neon, oasis-landscaped glory.
This world is difficult for today's Interstate drivers — four hours blazing to San Diego at ninety! — or even metro Phoenix commuters to appreciate. Also hard to grasp was how the city was dense along all three routes, and of course a much more compact city.
Phoenix was clearly separated from Tempe (which was separated from Mesa) and Glendale by agriculture. Inside the city, the highways tended to be four lanes wide, contributing to the overall built environment rather than decimating it like the titanic size of Phoenix city "streets" today.
Van Buren and Grand were still in pretty good shape when I was a child. Buckeye was catering to a lower-end clientele. Being pretty broke most of the time, family recreation involved drives (especially night drives).
Thus, we'd drive east on Van Buren, past imposing Phoenix Union High School and graceful Montgomery Stadium (home of the Salad Bowl). The motels began immediately, broken by such fixtures as Arnold's Pickles and many handsome business buildings that sat right on the sidewalk.
Twenty-fourth Street brought the relatively swanky new Kon Tiki Hotel, with a Polynsian theme including giant torches and a volcanic fire "mountain." Across the street was the Arizona State Hospital, the insane asylum, where Winnie Ruth Judd was the most famous patient. After one of her escapes, one wag who worked with my mother suggested the city put up an "Inmates Escaping" crosswalk sign.
Still, the hospital was bordered by tall oleander hedges and had abundant shade trees. Long before the city had to invest in failing efforts to spruce up Van Buren, most of the motels had grass, trees and flower beds. The next relatively large motel was the well-kept Tahiti Inn at 29th Street. One of my favorite motels came along at 32nd Street, the Del Webb Hiway House, which was surrounded by a little railroad track on which ran an open-air train in the Daylight colors of the Southern Pacific Railroad (like the one at Encanto Park). A neon sign featuring a giant trumpeter unfurling a red banner proclaimed the Ramada Inn at 38th Street and Van Buren. The Arizona Palms motel and Bill Johnson's Big Apple restaurant — "Let's Eat" — were nearby.
Phoenix and Tempe were getting closer, but a clear dividing line came with the Tovrea Stockyards, which at one time was the largest feedlot in the nation (yes, the Stockyards Restaurant was originally located at the actual stockyards). They ran from the Southern Pacific tracks to Washington Street, but the big Cudahy slaughterhouse stood on Van Buren at 44th Street. But what got your attention was the smell.
Farther east were Legend City and Phoenix Municipal Stadium to the South and Papago Park north as the highway turned toward Tempe. A little rest area sat just before you crossed the bridge. The handsome Mill Avenue Bridge, one of only two crossing the Salt River at the time, was one-way going south except for the rare times the river flooded. Northbound traffic ran to the east on the riverbed. Also of interest were the SP railroad bridge to the west (still there) and the old wagon bridge, closed and dangerous but still standing (only an approach was saved).
Tempe and Mesa were also compact and distinct. We drove as far as the LDS Arizona Temple. My grandmother would also remind me that her mother had died at the old Mesa Southside Hospital. I was mainly interested in catching a look a trains along the ride or during a stop at the Mesa depot.
Grand Avenue was great for train-watching, as it paralleled the Santa Fe railroad. So we often drove north to the Glendale depot and then waited for a freight train to race back to the Mobest Yard at McDowell.
Like Van Buren, Grand was a showcase of the evolving architecture and business of motor hotels, from tiny adobe or brick cottages to streamlined moderne and finally the larger midcentury designs. At the foot of Grand, at Van Buren, was one of Kemper Marley's first liquor stores (or so I was told).
Phoenix fought freeways (wisely) but had no backup plan, such as foregoing sprawl. Little Black Canyon Freeway, operating in the early 1960s with two lanes each way, eventually became part of I-17, along with the Maricopa Freeway, brutally rammed through the barrios.
But the I-10 connection west was set back for years and the old U.S. highways kept going, although by the mid-1970s, one could take a long drive out farm roads to reach the Interstate to L.A. at Tonopah. Still, Van Buren didn't lose its designation until the early 1990s.
By the time I was on the ambulance, the three gateway boulevards were in serious decline. Speedy Gonzales, one of the more colorful transvestite street people was often on Van Buren. I remember one overdose involving a young woman at an old "auto court" on Buckeye. The place was way past its best years, but outside it was still shady and grassy and well-kept.
On the other hand, some newer motels were built near the airport. But at least the building stock remained when I left in 1978, along with plenty of businesses (including some great second-hand stores). Yet when I returned to live in Phoenix in 2000, the empty land and loss of historic buildings was astounding, and most of what remained was beyond seedy and forlorn.
The biggest tragedy is that Phoenix couldn't have found a way to save some of the old motels — imagine what a retro, attract-young-talent treat that could be — with their neon and great architecture, combined with reinvestment to revitalize the business districts.
Instead, the same old tear-downs, sun-blasted empty lots and blight. The Resistance keeps fighting to revive a piece of Grand. The avenue from Van Buren to McDowell has great potential. But most of the city's highways, and the unique culture they spawned, only live in memories.
Phoenix's motel glory — gallery (click for a larger image):
The Arizona Palms Motel, 3725 E. Van Buren, in the 1960s.
The Egyptian Motor Hotel, 765 Grand Avenue, in the 1950s recently restored.
Poolside at the El Rancho Motel, 1300 E. Van Buren.
The oasis feel to the Greenway Motor Hotel at 1208 W. Van Buren in the 1950s.
The Sea Breeze at 2701 E. Van Buren.
Nighttime along the neon boulevard (Russell Lee, Library of Congress).
The Arizona Motel along Van Buren in 1942 (Russell Lee, Library of Congress).
A postcard for the Hiway House, a Del Webb motel at 32nd Street and Van Buren. It featured a train, in Southern Pacific Daylight colors, that circled the property. Later it was turned into a jail.
The Ramada Inn at 38th Street and Van Buren. The company located its headquarters in Phoenix in the 1950s. Del Webb had been an original investor in the chain before creating his Hiway House company.
The shady, grassy Autopia was a classic of the pre-World-War II auto courts. It was located at 3901 E. Van Buren.
The Aztec Court at 3601 E. Van Buren Street in the 1940s. Note the sign for A-1 Beer sign, for Phoenix's local brew (Brad Hall collection).
The Bali-Hi, 1515 Grand Avenue, in the 1950s.
Near the state capitol, the Cabana Lodge was at 120 N. 17th Avenue. Note the manicured parking lawn as opposed to today's gravel.
The mid-century architecture of the Caravan Inn on Grand Avenue in the 1960s.
A night-time view of the Caravan Inn West with its distinctive sign.
The pool and landscaped interior courtyard of the Desert Star Motor Hotel, 4120 E. Van Buren St.
The Greenway Motor Hotel was at 1208 W. Van Buren.
The Navo-Mex Curio Shop was among the many souvenir stands that beckoned motorists from back east.
No pool, no problem. Relaxing at the Palomine Inn, 1520 W. Van Buren.
The Sandman offered one of the most extravagant neon signs.
A postcard from the 1940s for the Tropicana at 39th Street and Van Buren.
The King's Rest Hotel on south 17th Street facing the railroad underpass in the 1940s (Brad Hall collection).
———————————————————————————
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.
Thanks Jon - -
That really brought back some memories of the 3am road-trip departures.
Posted by: bearsense | September 21, 2012 at 12:53 PM
Jon, the old motels are making a comeback along Miracle Mile here in Tucson. Artists studios, performance spaces, and yes, accommodations.
http://cms3.tucsonaz.gov/sites/default/files/imported/prog_proj/projects/oracle/drivingmap_color_print_final.pdf
http://www.tucsonhistoricpreservationfoundation.org/event/miracle-mile-open-house-tour
Posted by: Gary O'Brien | September 21, 2012 at 01:56 PM
Side note: a new reply to Mr. Talton (Petro too) in the previous thread, regarding federal stimulus spending.
Posted by: Emil Pulsifer | September 21, 2012 at 04:40 PM
Side-note: a couple of additional comments now (ditto).
Posted by: Emil Pulsifer | September 21, 2012 at 05:00 PM
Side note: two new comments in the previous thread.
Posted by: Emil Pulsifer | September 22, 2012 at 03:23 PM
Jon, good piece on the Blue Highway or as when I was a kid hanging out downtown, older Hispanic females called it Van Burey.
I spent a year at the State Hospital in 62, hanging out with the likes of Winnie and convicted murders up from Florence to insure they were sane enough to understand the state was going to murder them.
Later I worked Van Buren as a cop, and was referred to by the men and women plying their sexual wares, as the Red Dude. “Here comes da Red Dude.” And as a narc and later working robbery I took down the “evil” resident drug lords and armed robbers. My detective partner had all robberies committed by “blacks” east of Central Avenue and I had the same job west of Central. Last I knew the PD had gone to a system where they assign cases as they come in. So they might assign you a robbery on Baseline Road and the next one you are assigned might be Sunny slope. There is no separation by race.
I remember a Captain that made rank as a result of his talent for arresting Chicago and east coast fugitives on Van Buren. Like many of us his best sources were the hookers on Van Buren. If you were a smart male John, if that’s possible, and you were not into men, you should always check to make sure that very attractive woman on the corner didn’t have a set of gonads.
Grand Avenue was where Gruber Underwear factory was located and was a great source of beautiful young Hispanics, Aztecs and Mayans in town from Mexico to make some money to send home. And before you got out to the Japanese and Russian Glendale farmers acres you could stop at the ? Diner at 59th Avenue and Glendale for America fare and catch up on the latest rural politics.
And on the east side of the Black Canyon Highway slightly North of whats now Deer Valley road I met my first wife at the "Curve" cafe and bar owned by Susie Worsham’s mother. Beautiful cowgirls. And you could drink there with “Monk” and his over sized friend, “Bear” that played the gorilla in chains on the Wallace and Ladmo show.
Thanks for the trip.
Da Red Dude
Posted by: cal Lash | September 23, 2012 at 09:58 AM
I just saw an appropriate nickname for one of our worst governors, now head of Homeland Insecurity.
Janet Incompetano
Posted by: AZRebel | September 23, 2012 at 02:27 PM
I remember in the 60's the gas station in the middle of nowhere past 52nd street on Van Buren that had a sign that said "Last chance to gas up in Phoenix" I'm sure they charged a few cents extra per gallon and I can only imagine how many tourists were upset when they drove a another mile over the hill and hit downtown Tempe and Mesa.The Western Village was a great lunch spot on Grand that a lot of local vegetable and fruit growers frequented.Great food and cheap prices.Van Buren and Arnold's Pickles was the center of the Phoenix riots in the 60's and scared the hell out of the white elite.
Central Ave. had palm trees for cruising,Camelback had orange groves and Baseline had what seemed like unending flower gardens.It was a great time to be young,but then isn't it always.:>)
Posted by: mike doughty | September 23, 2012 at 08:51 PM
I wrote and produced a video for the Tempe History Museum a few years ago. The theme was a day in the life of Tempe in 1910. That was the year the Adams Hotel burned down. Phoenix fire dept asked Tempe for assistance to fight the fire. Tempe FD put a fire truck on a railroad car to send to Phoenix. By the time they did that, it was too late. Fascinating because in 1910 it would have taken much too long to drive the truck from Tempe to Phoenix to be effective. Tempe was never a "suburb."
Posted by: David Strang | September 23, 2012 at 08:57 PM
That would be the "Range" cafe at 59th and Glendale.
Posted by: cal Lash | September 23, 2012 at 09:10 PM
Reb: may I join you on your tangent? Russell Pearce called Janet by the name of "Veto-litano" because while she was Gov., she put the kibosh on several of his pieces of legislation. That came after he circulated a "She Lied" t-shirt.
So Jon's title of "St Janet" is rather mild by comparison. For me, I'd trade her for Bruja in a heartbeat!
Posted by: morecleanair | September 23, 2012 at 10:15 PM
Van Burey: I remember the Arnold Pickle deal. Within a few blocks of Arnolds was a great Mexican food factory and outdoor café, Slim Sarwarks used cars, Al’s Book store and 12th Street Auto Parts where many years later I learned the mob ran a wire out of the back room. In 68 I had finished booking a prisoner at 17 S 2nd Avenue in the County Court House and Phoenix Police building and then gone to the Busy B for a Greek breakfast. As I started up my police car a “suspicious” person went west bound in a vehicle on Jefferson. All moving objects at 2 AM were suspicious. I stopped the car and after skilled interrogation got the driver to deny he had a bag full of money spilling out on the back floor board. I was ordered by a superior to release the man and his money. At the time I didn’t sort out what this was about but 20 some years later I learned from my divorce attorney that his dad had worked the wire in the back room of 12 street auto Parts for Gus Greenbaum and Bugsy Siegel.
Posted by: cal Lash | September 24, 2012 at 08:35 AM
Nice trip down Memory Lane. I remember the Hiway Motel at 32nd and Van Buren. It's where the acts at the Celebrity Theater used to stay. I also remember the stench of the Tovrea Stockyards (went to grade school and high school within sniffing distance). There also used to sand-rail / dune buggy races down in the river bottom just below what was left of the cattle pens.
Posted by: eclecticdog | September 24, 2012 at 12:23 PM
"cal Lash" wrote:
"Later I worked Van Buren as a cop, and was referred to by the men and women plying their sexual wares, as the Red Dude."
Bad case of rosacea?
Posted by: Emil Pulsifer | September 24, 2012 at 01:06 PM
Side note: two new replies to Mr. Talton in the previous thread, on the subject of federal stimulus and its success or failure. (Read these and see if we don't agree after all.)
Posted by: Emil Pulsifer | September 24, 2012 at 01:36 PM
Here's an interesting headline for the "you didn't build that (alone)" file:
"Fed Aid Helped Gas Drilling Success: big subsidies paid since 1970s"
http://www.usnews.com/science/news/articles/2012/09/23/decades-of-federal-dollars-helped-fuel-gas-boom
One of the pioneers of "fracking" notes that at the time, 90 percent of the private sector didn't believe it would be profitable.
The article also compares gas and oil subsidies for 2010 (direct expenditures and tax credits) with those for renewable energy ($2.8 billion versus $14.7 billion, respectively).
Posted by: Emil Pulsifer | September 24, 2012 at 01:44 PM
"The combined effects of voter roll purges, demands for proof of citizenship and photo identification requirements in several states may hinder at least 10 million Hispanic citizens who seek to vote this fall, civil rights advocates warn in a new report.
". . . Hispanic voters are considered pivotal to the presidential election this November, and are being heavily courted by both Democratic incumbent Barack Obama and Republican challenger Mitt Romney. If they turn out in large numbers, Hispanics could sway the outcome in several swing states.
"In an analysis based on government data, civil rights group The Advancement Project identified legal barriers that could deter voter registration and participation among eligible Hispanics. In some of those states, the group's researchers said, the number of voter-eligible Latino citizens potentially blocked by those barriers exceeds the margin of victory in the 2008 election."
http://www.azcentral.com/news/articles/20120923study-voting-rule-changes-hispanics.html
These new voter registration laws are the product of Republican dominated state legislatures, and were introduced by the conservative American Legislative Exchange Council (which is why they've popped up in so many states at the same time); the ball is now being passed to right-wing lobbying, public relations, and activist-organizer operatives:
"Right-Wing Operatives Take Up ALEC's Voter Suppression Agenda"
http://www.prwatch.org/news/2012/04/11466/right-wing-operatives-take-alecs-voter-suppression-agenda
Posted by: Emil Pulsifer | September 24, 2012 at 01:59 PM
538, which is the polling gold standard, now places Arizona as solid Romney.
http://fivethirtyeight.blogs.nytimes.com/
Posted by: Rogue Columnist | September 24, 2012 at 02:02 PM
Side-note: two new replies to Mr. Talton (same subject) in the previous thread. I double-dog dare ya to read 'em.
Posted by: Emil Pulsifer | September 24, 2012 at 04:17 PM
I took your double dog dare and I shot your dog.
Posted by: AZRebel | September 24, 2012 at 07:29 PM
Yarnell Hill is not terrifying. It's a feat of engineering. Try driving the road to the summit of 14,265-foot Mt. Evans, east of Denver: This two-lane blacktop hugs the side of the mountain for approximately 6 miles. The crumbling, narrow road has no centerline, there are sudden drop-offs that plunge over 1,000 feet with no guardrails for protection -- or peace of mind -- and freak snowstorms can strike at any time during the summer, leaving you praying to God that you make it down the mountain in one piece.
Posted by: ChrisInDenver | September 24, 2012 at 09:09 PM
Chris,
I have driven both roads and should have been more precise. I meant the old Yarnell Hill highway, which was nothing like its current-day replacement.
Posted by: Rogue Columnist | September 24, 2012 at 09:28 PM
Some of the old motor lodges are still delightful, and they linger where blue highways intersect. My friend the former trucker says the good ones tend to have either petunias in flowerboxes or religious tracts in the office -- these indicating clean, quiet, inexpensive, sometimes quirky lodging.
An idea I first saw in WLHM's Blue Highways: in any small town, you can measure the locals' opinion of the diner by the number of free insurance/feed-and-grain/realty/travel-agent calendars hung somewhere behind the counter. A three-calendar restaurant is ordinary, a six-calendar restaurant will be always busy. I have seen eight and have heard rumors of twelve (the legendary Restaurant in Derby, IA).
Posted by: joel hanes | September 25, 2012 at 03:06 AM
Down Yarnell, either side, on a bicycle is a real kick.
Posted by: cal Lash | September 25, 2012 at 08:38 AM
Too many great AZ roads have been engineered into blandness -- Yarnell Hill, the Beeline between Saguaro Lake turnoff and Payson, and the stretch between Wickenburg and Kingman.
Posted by: eclecticdog | September 25, 2012 at 10:07 AM
I believe South Mountain is close to an illegal grade. And down Mingus to Jerome is a fly off the cliff bicycle ride. Of course thats on a steel frame bike with NO brakes
Posted by: cal Lash | September 25, 2012 at 10:10 AM
Jon,
You got me. I never had the chance to drive the old Yarnell Hill Road. Glad you got to experience Mt. Evans; I hated it.
Posted by: ChrisInDenver | September 25, 2012 at 10:13 AM
I had Blue Highway by William Least Heat Moon in my back pack when I camped from here to DC in 95/96. Got to DC on earth day after a short ride in a decorated VW bus occupied by two aging flower children.
Posted by: cal Lash | September 25, 2012 at 10:15 AM
Chris,
Another white-knuckle drive is the back way (east) out of Aspen. Especially as a passenger!
Posted by: Rogue Columnist | September 25, 2012 at 11:12 AM
"Another white-knuckle drive is the back way (east) out of Aspen. Especially as a passenger!"
Jon,
Are you referring to the road over Independence Pass? I hear that one's a frightening drive -- again, sans guardrail. Same applies to U.S. 6 over Loveland Pass, and Trail Ridge Road.
Posted by: ChrisInDenver | September 25, 2012 at 04:27 PM
Trail Ridge Road is fairly reasonable. It has some nice views over the edges of hills and things, of course. Fall River Road, which Trail Ridge replaced, is a gravel road with many switchbacks, one-way (up) only. I was a passenger once when a friend — who at the time was taking too much of the wrong drug — showed how easy it was to speed up the road in his compact car. His method was to gun it up a switchback, then throw on the brake, causing the car to swerve around so that it was pointing up the next switchback. Then repeat until we were at our destination.
Though I've only been in Arizona twice (1977 and 1978, or something like that), I enjoyed reading your descriptions.
Posted by: Kip W | September 25, 2012 at 05:46 PM
"cal Lash" wrote:
"And down Mingus to Jerome is a fly off the cliff bicycle ride. Of course thats on a steel frame bike with NO brakes."
That's nothing! I once rode down the slopes of Olympus Mons on a longboard!
Posted by: Topper | September 25, 2012 at 07:36 PM
That's not too bad Topper, since the slopes of Olympus Mons rise at an angle of 5°. ;-)
Interesting history; I've never really seen any of these hotels but many remind me of those you find in Flagstaff along Route 66 and in Tucson along the "Miracle Mile"; I'm not sure why it is named the Miracle Mile since it is an ugly area. I also am not really a fan of these places since the infrastructure is much too car oriented.
Posted by: phxSUNSfan | September 25, 2012 at 11:29 PM
I once heard Bruce Babbitt say that when he was a kid taken on road trips down from Flagstaff, he knew his family was getting close to Phoenix when they hit "The Curve" diner on Grand.
Posted by: Tom Zoellner | October 01, 2015 at 12:40 PM
Does the Caravan Inn or UMOM New Day Center, 3333 E. Van Buren St. Phoenix, AZ 85008 have any history of hauntings?
Posted by: Ashley Shepler | October 10, 2015 at 09:07 PM
I'm not aware of any. What about others on the thread?
Posted by: Rogue Columnist | October 10, 2015 at 10:27 PM
What was the name of the Motel that was on 1338 East Van Buren the sign remians but the letters are gone.
Posted by: [email protected] | February 15, 2017 at 10:06 PM
I don't know, Michael. But the Arizona Room of the Burton Barr Central Library might be able to help. They have City Directories going back many decades.
Posted by: Rogue Columnist | February 16, 2017 at 09:59 AM
I remember when Phonix had 64000 pop and Tucson had 45000. 1950 lived in Eloy 1949-1954.
Posted by: charley | May 23, 2021 at 07:01 AM
Jon, If you haves already, you might enjoy Alfredo Vea’s novel, La Maravilla, set on West Buckeye Rd. during the pre-freeway days. It explores, celebrates, the culture and characters of that part of Phoenix.
Posted by: Pete Fredlake | July 16, 2021 at 10:05 AM
Loved reading about the PHOENIX that I grew up in. These roads were driven every day and I even worked at the State Hospital as a secretary in the Personnel office right out of HS at Phoenix Union. Spent my honeymoon at one of those motels on Van Buren. Can't remember the name. That was in 1956. Phoenix was a great place. So safe to walk around anywhere even at night. Couldn't do that now. Riding the city bus downtown to shop at Penney's and Korricks. Rode the bus everywhere. Downtown and then transferring to another bus that went to Nelson's swimming pool. Took all day but it was so fun.
Posted by: Nadine Brimhall | May 14, 2022 at 12:44 PM