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January 31, 2022


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Thx so much Jon! I thoroughly enjoyed this stroll down this GRAND memory road! You are amazing! You SHINE!🌟💕hugs

Good photos Jon
I still use Grand avenue from 27th Avenue and Thomas going west to any place this side of Wickenburg.
I make note of the famous drinking hole, the Buggy Inn
And just a skip to 27th Avenue and Indian School where you could get good Mexican food served by Union waitresses. Across the street was the Indian Drive In Movie Theater. And to the west was an airport that got moved to the Litchfield/Good year area.

And of course Mr. Lucky’s was on the North side of Grand Avenue.

Then past Gruber Under wear factory where a lady friend from Mexico worked back in 56. She had blonde hair freckles and green eyes.
Passed the great downtown of Glendale and past the Horse breeding ranch of Read Mullen where I lived in his barn. And bought my first truck from him, A 1960 Ford Pickup with no radio and no Heater. Put 100000 miles on it delivering the Arizona Republic Newspaper.
And sweeping by small sleepy Peoria and El Mirage on to Morristown and Wickenburg. Or maybe a right turn to catch a dirt road to Castle Hot Springs.
Love Grand Avenue. Even today 10th Avenue and grand is cool.

Hmm. For some reason the photo of the Buggy Inn didn't come up.
I'll check manana.

I can speak about Grand Avenue. I practically grew up on Grand at Alhambra School. My dad was a teacher and principal there. I went there from 4th grade on.

I can speak about Grand Ave. I practically grew up at Alhambra School. My dad was a teacher and principal there. I attended from 4th grade until I transitioned to West High in 1950.

I worked in the packing sheds on the westside of Grand in high school.

I drank at the Buggy Inn when I was eighteen. Some buddies and I ran dragsters and Milt would buy our beer if we won and displayed our trophy there. Hell he even tried to hire to tend bar. ID was not required only money.

I learned to stay out of domestic disputes there. I kicked a guy off of his wife who he was choking her she got up and proceeded to beating the shit out of me with her purse I could go on but this is too long already.

Keeping with Cal's thought I am going to start posting my name instead of my alias: Ramjet

I was hoping to see Alhambra school. My parents managed a motel (with cabins) next door. My best friend lived on the school grounds, The Woodwards. Her Dad worked for the school and my Dad did also. I think there is a strip mall there now.. 39th Av was an alley between my home and the school. I went there in the 8th grade.

The current issue of The History Issue of the Arizona Highway magazine has great photos and good reads.

I probably know you since Joyce was in my class and my off and on girlfriend for years. I did lots of things with the Woodwards and Chuck was one of my running buddies.

The only thing left of the school is the gym which is now used for storage. I have some bricks from the center building.

Jon mentions that Grand was the line to determine which Japanese Americans went to “interment camps “ and who did not. I went to school with some who went and some who did not since the school district straddled Grand Ave. both East and West. It was not a good time in American History.
My Dad secretly took over two farms and held them for the families until till they returned. Needless to say we never lacked for whatever fresh was in season.

I couldn't help but notice on the 1915 map that there is a subdivision between 12th and 16th Streets and Van Buren and Roosevelt called "Germania." Bet that name got changed in 1917 or 1918! Little known fact: There was internment of Germans and confiscation of a great deal of their property, including the American branch of Bayer aspirin, during WWI. (The German Bayer company reacquired the rights to the brand in the U.S. in 1994.) Anyone born in Germany or with a German-born parent or grandparent was suspect. That included my grandparents and, indeed, my Iowa grandpa got weekly visits from a G-man, to keep an eye on him just in case he was making gunpowder in the barn for... you know, the Kaiser.

Joe thats interesting as the exact bounderies you described were populated about 1900 by Immigrants from Spain. My lady friend is 86 and her grandparents from Spain lived there as did she and her parents.

Roger Simpson, you state: Jon mentions that Grand was the line to determine which Japanese Americans went to “interment camps “ and who did not. I went to school with some who went and some who did not since the school district straddled Grand Ave. both East and West. It was not a good time in American History.

I'm aware of the U.S. internment policy, of course, but this intrigues me. I pictured it as a near universal internment. Was is done in stages? Did some people just never get interned? Was the geographic line arbitrary or was there some rationale given? I'd really be curious to know more details if you or Jon have them.

A new book just out: "Facing the Mountain" byDaniel James Brown covers a lot about the interments and also the story of the 442 Regiment (all Nisei -Japanese American Soldiers) in Europe during WW II.
I consider this book to be excellent and factual. I highly recommend it.
The interment was not universal-many Japanese-Americans were never interned. I actually had classmates who were and some who were not.

Note reference Jon's column Days of Risk,
See his Front Pages section for Guardian news item on Amnesty says Israel is an Apartheid State.


Great article in Front Pages on Self driving cars and sprawl.


Good on your parents Roger. Too many Japanese-Americans lost their property to their greedy neighbors at rock bottom prices.

Spent more than a few nights in Mr. Lucky's. Had fun, but never 'lucky'. Country Western upstairs and Rock n Roll downstairs. Even a mechanical bull and for a while a real bull should one feel the need to ride.

Great memories! Our family would go out to eat once a week, and often it was to the Embers truck stop on Grand. Plenty of parking for the trucks and some darned good broasted chicken, as I recall. Plus some drunk fellow stumbling around, mumbling, “Don’t nobody know Merle Haggard?” This was the 60s; now we ALL know…

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