Saturday, May 23, 2020

Race for First Photos.

EXTRA! EXTRA! EXTRA! shouted the newsboys for The Los Angeles "Evening Express" in the dawn hours of June 24th, 1926.  People grabbed The Extras out of their hands as fast as they could keep 'em comin'! The EXTRA was a result of Evangelist Aimee Semple McPherson being found alive in Agua Prieta, Sonora, Mexico early June 23rd.  When the Press Corps learned she was lying in a Calumet & Arizona Hospital bed in Douglas, Arizona, a media feeding frenzy broke loose.

The newspaper was boastfully proud of printing the first photos and even wrote a sidebar story about "a tale of newspapermen and their work in the raw." Here is the complete text of the story as transcribed from screen clips using OCR technology.


Express Wins Airplane Race for Aimee Photos

"Details of one of the most thrilling cases in which high-powered automobiles of the sheriff's office, as well as two airplanes, took part In an effort to obtain pictures and a complete story of Aimee Semple McPherson for the public of Los Angeles, were laid bare when the Evening Express scored the "scoop" of the year over all other Southern California papers and issued an extra containing the first photographs of the evangelist to be shown since her rescue.

READY FOR BATTLE

The story, which reads like a novel and is replete with thrills, is a tale of newspapermen and their work in the raw. One reporter traveling in an automobile close to 80 miles an hour, armed to the teeth, races another carload of photograph "hijackers" to a stranded plane in the Santa Suzanna pass while two others drop 2000 feet in another plane and narrowly escape serious injury. But the Evening Express is still the first and only paper to show the actual photographs of the famous evangelist lying on a bed of pain in a hospital 700 miles away.

Less than an hour yesterday morning after word was flashed here that Mrs. McPherson had been found, Harry E Meason, Express reporter, and Albert Schmidt, staff photographer, took off in a biplane and headed for Arizona, traveling at a speed of 100 miles an hour. While passing a range of mountains at an altitude of 4000 feet the plane engine developed trouble and began to "buck." A landing was made in the town of Imperial and the two men, together with their pilot, again took to the air.

NEARLY CRASH

The trio had climbed to an altitude of 2000 feet when the engine stopped dead. Barely grazing a telephone pole and several trees in their wild flight to earth, the three men escaped serious injury or death when the pilot, owing to his exceptional skill, managed to make a landing in a field below without turning his plane over.
There's no doubt that T. Claude Ryan flew to the rescue of the "Evening Express."  Ryan was something of a Southern California icon back in 1926.  He had established an exceptional reputation as a daring pilot.  But what's more is that he was an astute businessman and early aeronautical engineer.  He instinctively knew how to design a sweet aircraft that could fly and fly FAST!  So, the LA "Evening Express" called The Best Guy they could find and Claude fly to the rescue.  This is his Ryan M-1, an early monoplane powereed by a Wright Whirlwind radial engine that really cold do 185 mph!  The plane had only been flown for the first time a mere four months before The Great Photo Race to Douglas.  For Claude to fly this mission in the dark of night is a testimony to his skills as a pioneer pilot.  See: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ryan_M-1
Word was then flashed to the Express office of the accident and the fact that the plane could not again take the air. From there another message was relayed to Claude Ryan, San Diego aviator, noted for his skill and daring in the air, and 10 minutes later he started out in his own monoplane for Douglas where, the Evening Express told him, were waiting pictures for the famous preacher. Flying at the fullest speed his wasplike machine was capable of, which is 185 miles an hour, Ryan reached his destination, and, despite the fact that the night was pitch dark, immediately took off.

THREATENED WITH DEATH

On his last stop for gas and oil Ryan was handed a telegram informing him that a car containing seven men had been sent out to the place where he was expected to land. Their object, he was informed, was to rob him of his pictures, even if they had to "knock him cold." The message ended with a warning to him to "come down" somewhere in the Santa Suzanna pass and he would be met by representatives of the Evening Express and several deputy sheriffs.
T. Claude Ryan

Then began a race from the Sheriff's office in the fastest available car Piloted by Jack Lane, the fastest driver connected with Sheriff Traeger's office, the machine contained Elmer Terrill, an Express reporter, and Deputy Sheriffs Charles Ellison and Charles Patton, both noted for their ability to either fight or shoot. Careening from side to side the big car's speedometer reached the 80-miles-an-hour point.

Terrill and his deputies met the plane and escorted Ryan to Los Angeles and the Express office. Despite assurances Ryan refused to part with his package of precious photographs until he came face to face with the city editor. Then, his eyes streaming water, caused by a leak in his goggles, the tired aviator completed his 24-hour job with a simple:
"Here's your pictures!"
When we saw the car used in the race did 80 MPH on East LA desert roads we knew it had to be a Studebaker Sheriff Big Six.    There was no other cop car that could do that in 1926.  We did a big article on The Sheriff and you can find it here:
https://azitwas.blogspot.com/2020/02/the-sheriff-arizona-big-six.html
POLICEMAN HERO

Even the police department, in its effort to give a hand to one of the biggest enterprises ever undertaken and won by a newspaper, assisted the Evening Express, when Officer Kimberly of University division willingly undertook the hard job of keeping in telephonic communications with the hurtling planes as they made their various stops for water, fuel and oil. It was largely through Kimberley's efforts that the Express was first notified that one of its airplanes had made a forced landing and was out of commission.

And that is the story of how the Evening Express was able to present to the Los Angeles reading public the first photographs of Aimee Semple McPherson to be taken following her thrilling rescue. And that, doubtless, is how the newspaper will always beat the field and be the first to give its readers what they want ahead of any paper in Southern California.

Tuesday, February 11, 2020

The Sheriff: Arizona & The Big Six

Once upon a time in The Rip Roarin' 20's, a dozen Arizona Sheriffs drove the same car--a Big Six Studebaker Duplex Phaeton.  When officials of the Studebaker Company heard about the Arizona popularity of their Big Six they sent a hired gun writer out to wrangle up some pot boilin' stories of Law & Order Southwest Style.  Studebaker was so impressed, they official renamed their car "The Sheriff" and began a vigorous promotion campaign in the Saturday Evening Post, Boys Life and other publications of the era.
Photo source: http://prescottazhistory.blogspot.com/p/crime.html

Grover F. Sexton never met an exaggeration, a hyperbole or a flaming metaphor he didn't like or couldn't find a way to use.  To say Sexton was a professional purveyor of purple prose is an understatement.  Sexton tacked the word "Major" onto his name but nobody ever really know "major" of what. "Sexton's origins are murky, but before he became a Studebaker employee he had experience working on early aviation experimentation, followed by military police duty in Europe during WWI. After the war he also spent time as newspaper reporter."

As chance would have it, Sexton rolled into Prescott, Arizona, just in time to get Deputized by new Sheriff Two Guns Weil.  "Deputy Sheriff Sexton was provided a badge and a Winchester Rifle and was assigned the Studebaker Big Six model patrol vehicle. This Big Six Vehicle had no emergency lights or an apparent siren, but it did have Sheriff's Office graphics and a vehicle badge on the front bumper."

Quotes use in the above narrative were obtained from: http://bit.ly/2UKp0zw
After hob-nobbing with Two Guns, Sexton would parlay this newfound Deputy status as an entree into the offices of 11 other Arizona Sheriffs.  Sexton always obtained the bare bones of a dramatic law enforcement escapade upon which he could drape his overabundance of shameless exaggeration and downright fictitious embellishments.

Above graphic courtesy Steven Ayres via: http://bit.ly/2Sj2En1
Studebaker officials apparently lived by the rule "Don't let the facts stand in the way of a good stories" and they lapped up Sexton's prose like purring kittens.  The Studebaker marketing machine leaped into action and printed a classic of the 1920's automotive advertising genre.  "The Arizona Sheriff" distributed en masse to dealers all across America and became an instant hit.

Above graphic courtesy Steven Ayres via: http://bit.ly/2Sj2En1

Benton Clark's superb illustrations, as well as genuine photos of the actually elected Sheriffs themselves fanned the flames of consumer desire.  How could consumers resist the image of an "Old Time .45 Six-Gun and a Modern Big Six Motor Can."  The campaign was pure marketing magic!

Above graphic courtesy Steven Ayres via: http://bit.ly/2Sj2En1
Fortunately for Studebaker, their Big Six was a mighty machine that could back up the hype and walk the talk.  In fact, modern automotive analysts have called The Sheriff Big Six America's first "muscle car."  That's quite a tall order to fill but the Big Six lived up to its legend.  We obtained this photo of a Big Six in the Studebaker Museum at this link: https://forums.aaca.org/topic/90054-studebaker-whiskey-six/
A Duplex Phaeton was essentially a hard top with roll up side curtains. This Studebaker "...was seemingly made for the desert: Wide-open enough that air could circulate through the car as you drove, yet with a hard cloth top to prevent the top of your head from getting pummeled by the sun’s angry rays. The retractable side curtains, which rolled up like a window shade, didn’t do much for security, but in the colder and rainier days of an Arizona winter, they were sufficient for comfort."

Source of quote: https://www.hemmings.com/blog/article/swift-justice-1926-studebaker-sheriff-duplex-phaeton/

Here is the Wiki for The Big Six: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Studebaker_Big_Six
Source of engine photo: http://bit.ly/39uzffp
The Studebaker engine really did deserve its moniker of "Big Six.  Check out these monster specifications:

Specifications
Engine Inline six, iron block and head, cast en bloc, valves in side
Bore and stroke 3.875 x 5 inches
Compression ratio 4.5:1
Horsepower 75
Transmission Three-speed manual, single-plate dry clutch
Brakes Mechanical drum
Suspension Semi-elliptic leaf springs (front and rear)
Wheelbase 120 inches
Curb weight 3,475 pounds
(Source of specs: 
https://www.hemmings.com/blog/article/1926-studebaker-sheriff-duplex-phaeton/)

For a thorough discussion of how the Sheriff might deserve to be called America's first muscle car see:


Above photo courtesy Steven Ayres via: http://bit.ly/2Sj2En1
"New Yavapai County Sheriff Edwin G. "Two-Gun" Weil, had just won election as the liquor enforcement candidate. It appears that the voters of Yavapai County just then were ready for stricter liquor enforcement than provided by his predecessor. As historical records note, former Sheriff George C. Ruffner would give Prescott citizens advance warning when he was going to a "sweep." This "sweep" would consist of Sheriff Ruffner driving around the square in his wagon several times. Of course no arrests or seizures were made, as all bootleggers, speakeasies, bars or other liquor-consuming citizens in the county seat would stash their stills, pour out their drinks or otherwise close their doors."

Source of above quote: http://bit.ly/2UKp0zw 
Above photo courtesy Steven Ayres via: http://bit.ly/2Sj2En1
"CAUGHT!
Photograph of the arrest of I.P. McKelvie at his moonshine still in a tiny rock canyon of the Santa Maria Mountains the day after he beat Tex Elliott, bootlegger, on the draw, shooting Elliott dead. Near Sheriff Ed G. Weil (left foreground) the moonshiner's rifle is seen on a rock. "Dad" Denny, deputy sheriff, is seen in the lower right corner, covering the moonshiner with a rifle. This picture was taken by "The Deputy from Yavapai" just as Sheriff Weil and Deputy Denny covered the moonshiner with rifles and he elevated his hands. Fifty gallons of illicit liquor were seized in this arrest. McKelvie was acquitted of the slaying charge, having fired in self-defense."

Above quote courtesy Steven Ayres via: http://bit.ly/2Sj2En1
Cottonwood Main Street undoubtedly didn't look much different in 1925.
Photo Source: https://azmemory.azlibrary.gov/digital/collection/histphotos/id/3303/rec/8
"Within two weeks of his election he blew into the Tia Juana dance hall at Cottonwood near the monster Jerome Copper mines at night, with two deputies and his six shooters. He lined 45 men and 22 women in the place up against the wall, sent his deputies through the place to gather up two truckloads of evidence, drove the whole crowd out into the street, nailed up the dive, and went on back home.

While waiting for his deputies to collect the evidence, Sheriff Weil sat on a pool table, legs dangling over, and two pistols displayed, careless-like. The men with hands up grew restless. So Weil began joking with them and finally told them to go sit down and be good little boys. The whole 45 obeyed as though they were in Sunday school.

Among the 45 men were some bad hombres, a number with several notches in their pistols. But Weil did not even take the trouble to relieve them of their guns, telling them he supposed none of them wanted to commit suicide. The tough, wide open, vicious Cottonwood dives are wide open no more. A little white mule corn liquor is smuggled in there, of course, as everywhere, but just try to buy a drink after the word has come that Ed Weil's big Studebaker car is on that side of the mountains! Try and get it! They know that Studebaker can go anywhere, and does. And that makes this mountain bobcat of a sheriff highly pleased."

Above quote courtesy Steven Ayres via: http://bit.ly/2Sj2En1

(Editor's Note: The "Verde Copper News" took issue with Sexton's lurid narrative.  ON January 15, 1926, the newspaper made this comment: "There is not and never was any such dance hall operated in Cottonwood as above stated. These statements are all absolute falsehoods and the writer should be taken to task for his slanderous remarks and may yet be.")

The full article containing the above quote can be found at this link.  The article is protected by a strict paywall.  However, you can buy a one day access for 99 cents and it would be well worth the cost to read the full article y history columnist Glenda Farley that appeared February 10, 2020.

https://www.verdenews.com/news/2020/feb/10/verde-heritage-1925-cottonwood-pool-hall-raide/
Source of photo: https://www.dcourier.com/news/2015/mar/29/days-past-deputy-sheriff-grover-sexton-and-the-st/
The reign of Two Guns didn't last long. "Chasing ridge runners, busting up stills and arresting homicide suspects in town and out in the vast rural expanses of Yavapai County became common practice during the Weil Administration, but after two years of stricter enforcement the voters had a change of heart and former Sheriff Ruffner was reelected, serving until his death in 1933."

Source of above quote: http://bit.ly/2UKp0zw

Above photo courtesy Steven Ayres via: http://bit.ly/2Sj2En1
Naturally, The Pima County Sheriff owned A Big Six.  Author Sexton and Yavapai Deputy described the murder of a Mexican sheepherder and invented a 12,000 foot elevation peak for the perp to run up and hide.  Sexton then once again reached into his bottomless bag of purple prose to describe the role of The Big Six in the fugitive's capture:

"Sheriff Bailey got Deputy F.E. Murphy, an old-time sheriff himself, into his Studebaker, and they covered the indescribably rough 28 miles to the foot of the Sierritas in 38 minutes. Along this road can still be seen the abandoned wrecks of half a dozen other makes of cars that have broken down under the strain of the difficult travel and have been left to travelers to pick apart for spare parts. For five days and nights, unceasingly, the sheriff's big Studebaker car circled the mountain ranges, rarely on any road whatever, watching every burro trail. That became tiresome. So Bailey, a "delicate" fellow of some six feet and 200 pounds, who can kink a piece of cattle wire and snap it in two with his bare hands, just started right up the mountain, leaving the car midway up, so if Pablo got below him, Murphy could start the chase at once."

Above quote courtesy Steven Ayres via: http://bit.ly/2Sj2En1

Photo by Susun McCulla
Fortunately for Fans of The Studebaker Sheriff, Walter Bailey somehow arranged to keep his Big Six after he retired from the Pima County Sheriff's Office.  The car was in good shape when it was donated to the Arizona Historical Society.  It was then restored to its original glory and put on display in the organization's Museum on the University of Arizona campus.  In March 2018 the Editor and his wife, Susun, were delighted to find this legendary law enforcement vehicle gleaming on the museum showroom floor.
Above photo courtesy Steven Ayres via: http://bit.ly/2Sj2En1
Of course, the Coconino County Sheriff had to have a Big Six, too! Sexton must have been beside himself with glee as he typed out these words: "As the crow flies, John was 132 miles away. But even John's Studebaker could not sail as the buzzard soars in this largest county in the world, and his speedometer read 198 miles when he pulled out of the virgin forest (where no road has been to this day) onto the brink of the mightiest chasm in the world, the Colorado River Canyon.

Ninety miles had been made through the trackless woods. Ninety miles of primeval plateau hills and ridges, rock-strewn between, the cathedraled trees in places that never before beheld a human being. And through this wilderness, an automobile -- a Studebaker, of course, for to a Studebaker alone The Arizona Sheriff turns to cover these impossible miles!

There were only two places along its winding miles whence the thieves could come out of its vast depths, and here Sheriff John and his deputy sat to watch, like terriers at a rathole. It was January -- cold, windy. The glow of a campfire, far down at the bottom of the canyon, had betrayed the hiding place of the trio, all desperate, heavily armed men.

Above quote courtesy Steven Ayres via: http://bit.ly/2Sj2En1

Perhaps the most famous crime story involving Sheriff Parsons included a dramatic life and death struggle in front of Grand Canyon's El Tovar Hotel.  You can read the full story of a thwarted robbery using the link below.  Simply scroll through the publication until you reach the article entitled: "Trapping the Midwest’s Deadly Bandits" by Mike Ennis.

https://grandcanyonhistory.org/uploads/3/4/4/2/34422134/top_2014_4.pdf


(Editor's Note: It is not known if Editor John Parsons is related to Sheriff John Parsons.  However, Sheriff John Parsons looks enough like the Editor's Grand Dad to be his brother!)
Above graphic courtesy Steven Ayres via: http://bit.ly/2Sj2En1
Sexton "...found that both good roads and bad roads gave the sheriff's Studebaker a severe test. Across the mesa stretched broad smooth high ways devoid of intersections where the throttle was thrown wide open and left open. There were wagon trails up into remote mountain valleys where the car was driven relentlessly in the teeth of ruts, rocks and steep grades. There were stretches of desert where no trace of trail existed but over which criminals must be pursued by a car crashing through brush and cactus stumps in the night."

Source of quote: Studebaker ad in "Boys Life" January 1926, Page 45 http://bit.ly/2SjdWYv
Above graphic courtesy Steven Ayres via: http://bit.ly/2Sj2En1
"Stories of Arizona sheriffs - their courage, their humor, their keen intelligence-as collected by Major Grover F. Sexton, Deputy Sheriff of Yavapai County, have been published in a booklet entitled "The Arizona Sheriff," incidents picturesque, romantic, thrilling - explain how these soft-spoken, hard-driving men with nimble guns keep the highways and byways of Arizona safe by swift and certain capture of wrongdoers."

Source of quote: Studebaker ad in "Boys Life" January 1926, Page 45 http://bit.ly/2SjdWYv
Source of above graphic: http://bit.ly/2SjdWYv

Well, Buckaroos, Thanks for reading!  We're sorry to say you can't send off for your free copy of "The Arizona Sheriff."  Nope, cowpokes, the going price for a copy of that there 48-page pile of purple prose starts at $100 and runs all the way to $200!  Check it out here: http://bit.ly/2OMPsVj

We wish to give a Special Shout Out & Huge Thanks to Prescott's Steven Ayres for his time and efforts in transcribing text and scanning graphics from an original copy of "The Arizona Sheriff."  Ayres posted his material in 2013 on The Studebaker Drivers Forum.  The Ayres Collection of work can be found here: http://bit.ly/2Sj2En1

Studebaker was no stranger to building super stout vehicles whose reputation made the rounds far and wide across The American West. One of the five Studebaker Brothers actually got his start producing wheelbarrows in California. Many of the famous cover wagons that settled the West were produced by The Studebaker Brothers. There Wiki is here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Studebakeochise

------------------
On May 22, 2020, we added the Cochise County part of the story.  Here 'tis:

"Catching rum runners along the Mexican border is far from the tame motorboat pursuit on the open sea.

When a sheriff out in Arizona starts after a car laden with contraband whiskey, mescal or tequilla, the two race off across Arizona's multitudinous square miles with no regard for roads, cactus or even mountain ranges.

Take your choice -- an Arizona desert or an Arizona valley -- and racing across it in an automobile, often at night and not infrequently even then with lights out is somewhat (!!!) different from gliding down a boulevard to work.

Sage brush, thick as it may grow, is only three or four feet high, and that doesn't count. Sand, 'dobe mud or rocks underneath give precarious going.

Here is a big patch of soto -- stumps solid as basswood, from two to six feet high and six inches through, bearing on the top of a big ball of spiney, prickly, bayonet-like blades.

There is a weird looking forest, reminding one of Dante's inferno or a witchland, of ocatilla. Fingers an inch thick and seven to ten feet long, tough as leather and literally covered with prickers half an inch long, grope into the air like the tentacles of an octopus.

Now are bunches or hummocks of sacaton grass, or larger hummocks of sacahuiste or beargrass, to run into which is like hitting a potted palm.

Back and forth through this run arroyos -- deep gullies worn by floods. Now a dry-wash, or stone-covered riverbed, gives relief from the thorny vegetation, but makes up with stones and ruts.

All around are mountains, stretching steeply up for 4,000 feet, with sharp-ridged buttes or flat-topped mesas in between. Two decades ago, they said only a burro could cross much of it. Now they say only a Studebaker can traverse it.

Over east of Douglas, up San Bernardino river and the Rio Blanco, or White River, past Apache Mountain and into the Chiracahuas was a favorite route for rum runners from Old Mexico into the States. Opium came with it, and, for several years, much marihuani, the deadly weed smoked with cigaret tobacco.

Here was where Percy Bowden, a deputy sheriff at 18 and known for miles around as the "fightin'est bare-handed sheriff on the border" won his reputation by overtaking 1,300 automobiles laden with whiskey during less than eight years, and bringing them all in.

"Those were the days, when the automobile first came to be used for smuggling," now reminisces Bowden, who is chief of police of Douglas. "Every kind of a car was used, big and little. I remember one great, big Simplex that one fellow used. He had a piece of 90-pound railroad rail bent around and fastened on in front for a bumper.

"That was to knock down fence posts and soto stumps when we got to running them across country.

"Guess I must have knocked down 500 miles of wire fence in those years myself.

"I got kind of discouraged, when they gave me my first car, a small Studebaker. Some of those big cars could have run over me. But, boy! how it could get over that rough ground!

"It stood the gaff so well that within two years almost every successful rum runner had bought a Studebaker; it was the only car that could give us a run. The only reason we caught them was that the 15 to 20 cases of liquor each carried was a weight handicap for them.

"Most of the flats were fenced off for ranches. When the whiskey runners would see us coming, they'd turn out lights and beat it across country, right through the brush. Nothing left for us to do but turn out lights and take after them.

"Light of the stars helped us to steer shy of buttes and some arroyos. We stopped occasionally to listen to where they were plunging on, and then we'd head after them.

"Talk about thrills. If you can beat plunging through the dark and all that prickly brush at 30 miles an hour and then suddenly dropping into an arroyo all covered with stones at the bottom, I'd like to know how. And if you can find another make of car that can stand it, I'd like to see it.

"All you can do is turn and follow the arroyo out till it's shallower, then turn out and start after them again. If you turn on lights, they'll see them and dash off in another direction.

"We always knew they were heading for some road, so we'd head that way too.

"The lighter cars bumped around so much, and the long thorns on the ocatilla and the sand burrs punctured tires so often, they had to give them up.

"The bigger cars could thrash through the brush, but they couldn't stand up under such driving. They'd break down and we'd grab them.

"They always carried guns, but I never had any shootings. "Soon they got to getting the same make of cars we used and then it was any man's race. The federal prohibition law helped, for now we can confiscate a car carrying liquor."

This is the same kind of work that made famous a group of old time peace officers who now are employed in, or make as their headquarters, the salesrooms where are sold the Studebaker, in which they lived while in service. There's Bert Polly, deputy sheriff and constable; Bill Sherill, another deputy; Frank Riggs, most peaceable of men but who knew every bad man in Arizona and old Mexico for years; young Johnson, Frank's nephew; Tom Mooney, former constable and deputy.

Hardly a day passes but Red Gannon, now a lease operator but a while back a deputy sheriff known by his .45 pistol to every outlaw in the county, drops in to chin a moment with his old cronies and sit in a Studebaker again, or Broncho Billy Woods, ranger and government officer for years, or Billy Brakefield, another famous deputy and half a dozen others come in and sit on Johnny Bowden's desk and stop all work of automobile selling as they chat over the old days.

Every one of them had been cowmen. Every one started his sheriff-ing on a cow pony, and every one took part in the maintenance of order during the transition period, when the suregoing, fast motor car replaced the picturesque horse and saddle. The cow pony is to them a romance, as to you and me. But the cars they use are as close to their hearts as their big six shooters, for the car and the six-gun were their very existence.

The Studebaker Sheriff Big Six wasn't just popular in Arizona. This is definitely a Big Six with a 1927 license plate. The archive photo title says, "Three Los Angeles plain-clothed police men crouched behind car aiming their guns, circa 1925." 

Source: https://dl.library.ucla.edu/islandora/object/edu.ucla.library.specialCollections.latimes:561

Thursday, February 6, 2020

Tucson's First Flight - 1910

The first aircraft flew over Tucson February 19, 1910. Where did the plane take off and land? Who was the pilot? What was the aircraft? 


Photo caption reads: "On Feb. 19, 1910, Charles K. Hamilton becomes the first to fly a plane in Tucson, showing off in his biplane for a crowd at Elysian Grove, an old amusement park southwest of where the Tucson Convention Center stands today. The photo was taken by prominent Tucson scientist Godfrey Sykes and eventually made its way into the hands of Rose Gerber 10 or 12 years ago. She found it behind another picture in a frame given to her by a friend. Photo taken by Godfrey Sykes, courtesy of Rose Gerber"

Photo source: https://tucson.com/promo/homepage/photos-history-of-aviation-in-tucson/collection_4260f07a-320c-11df-a634-001cc4c03286.html#1

(Editor's Note #1: Godfrey Sykes is an Arizona Legend and happens to be one of our personal Heroes.  In 1910, Godfrey was camped at the base of Tumamoc Hill about 1.5 miles from Elysian Grove.  He was employed by the historic Desert Laboratory. Godfrey was literally a Master Mechanic and fascinated by any sort of machine. It's no surprise he was in a sweet spot to capture the quintessential photo of the first flight over Tucson! Additional discussion about Godfrey is near the end of this article.)

(Editor's Note #2: Look closely in this photo and you can see the dim but signature horizon of the Catalina Mountains in the background. See also the elevated "stand" below the left wings of the aircraft.)

In this photo you can see that elevated stand looming above the port side wings of the aircraft.
Taken together with the Godfrey Sykes photo, plus the one below, there is no doubt the aircraft took off to the south.  We will discuss this with more detail in the map section of this post. 


Pilot Charles Keeney Hamilton was nicknamed the "crazy man of the air". He was, in the words of the U.S. Centennial of Flight Commission, "known for his dangerous dives, spectacular crashes, extensive reconstructive surgeries, and ever present cigarette" and was "frequently drunk". He survived more than 60 crashes.

Tucson's first flight came about directly as a result of a pioneering Airshow in Phoenix just 9 days before the Tucson milestone. The show cost Phoenix boosters $12,000, plus 25% of the gate. Adjusted for inflation, $12,000 in 1910 would be well over $300,000 in today's dollars! Pilot Hamilton is shown with the presumed Money Men of that air show. People paid hard-earned big money to see an air plane fly in 1910 and the show was a major financial success.

We zoomed in and did a screen clip on Pilot Hamilton.  He certainly looks a lot younger than he does in his June 1910 photo above.  Perhaps he had one or more of his 60 crashes between Phoenix and when his photo was taken! 

Photo Source: https://azmemory.azlibrary.gov/digital/collection/ahfrein/id/29/rec/3


Supposedly in The February 10, 1910 Phoenix Air Show, Hamilton beat a Studebaker automobile in a five mile race at the Fairgrounds hose race track!

Photo source: https://azmemory.azlibrary.gov/digital/collection/ahfrein/id/5/rec/1
Meanwhile back down in The Old Pueblo, here a great shot of Hamilton lifting off from Elysian Grove.  Coupled with the other two above key photos, there's no doubt he was lifting into the typical prevailing SW winds at the time.


We zoomed in and did some color & contrast with with this photo to show you Pilot Hamilton as he lifts off from Elysian Grove.

Elysian Grove was actually pretty hard to find. "The are was once owned by Leopoldo Carrillo in the 1870’s who developed the Carrillo Gardens. The area was then purchased by Emmanuel "Manny" Drachman and Alex Rossi in 1903 after Carrillo’s death. Drachman developed the Elysian Grove Amusement Park which was known for its ponds, trees, picnic areas, zoo, dancing and moving pictures. The popular garden attracted high quality entertainers for its time and dignitaries such as Theodore Roosevelt in 1912. The park closed in 1915 due to financial problems caused by the onset of Prohibition.  Source: https://www.loc.gov/item/sanborn00180_005/
Once we found the site of the old Elysian Park we were able to determine its perimeter length and 18 acre area.  There's virtually NO doubt that Pilot Hamilton staged in the far upper right corner of the park on the east side of the property and took off heading nearly due south. Some have said he had a half mile for take off.  Nope.  He had less than 800 feet!  But a lightweight aircraft frame could have easily lifted off in such a short distance.

Source: Editor's work on Google Earth.
Here's how Elysian Park fits into modern day Tucson.  It's just another non-descript neighborhood

Source: Editor's work on Google Earth.

This is a vintage view of the aircraft that first flew over Tucson on February 19. 1910.  It is now known as a "Curtiss Pusher".  The video and web links below will help you better understand this historic aircraft.

https://youtu.be/PXP13vicq70


An airborne V-8 engine in 1910 was a legit Big Deal!

https://youtu.be/PXP13vicq70


A 1909 Curtiss Pusher has been restored to flyable condition.  Heart Waring stories here!



 So, next time you're roamin' 'round that Tucson area slightly south of the Convention Center, look up in the sky and see this.

Photo source: https://azmemory.azlibrary.gov/digital/collection/ahsdinazh/id/578/rec/50


"Ruth Reinhold (then Chalmers) and Loyal Penn with Jimmy Angel's "Flamingo."  Three inches of snow fell that day and closed Sky Harbor for two hours." Circa 1937
We made extensive use of Ruth Reinhold's book "Sky Pioneering" published by the University of Arizona Press in 1982.  Ms. Reinhold passed on in 1985.


Well, what can we say about Our Hero Godfrey Sykes?  YIKES!  This Man Among Men has long captivated our Heart & Imagination.  For Godfrey to be On The Spot and capture THE BEST photo of Tucson's First Aerial Exhibition is SO Godfrey!  We highly recommend you obtain his book.

Source: Page 277 "A Westerly Trend" by Godfrey Sykes University of Arizona Press, 
All of our information about Old Elysian Grove is from the recollections of Roy Drachman (right above) .  Roy spent decades in show biz and he's a famous Tucson Icon.  Roy did stuff NOBODY else could get away with.  His book "From Cowtown to Desert Metropolis" is a genuine classic.

https://tucson.com/news/local/july-today-in-arizona-history/article_ba2af550-3355-11e1-b978-0019bb2963f4.html

Monday, January 27, 2020

Central & Roanoke Airport - Phoenix 1927

Palm-lined Central Avenue in 1926.
The Closing of the Central and Roanoke Airport
From Pages 66-67 "Sky Pioneering" by Ruth Reinhold University of Arizona Press 1982

Phoenix's residential section was spreading north during the mid-1920s, and although Howard Reinhart and Bernard Whelan had enjoyed prosperity during the winter of 1925–26, it would be their last season at Central and Roanoke; however, other aircraft remained at the popular spot.

Central Avenue was then shaded by palms, ash trees, and cottonwoods. It was a favorite route to the desert for an outing, or for a pleasant drive. The autos had not completely replaced horses, and on fine afternoons many rigs trotted up and down the road, and there were numerous riders heading for the bridle paths that began at Camelback Road. Much of this traffic passed the airport at Central and Roanoke.

Also scattered in the vicinity were numerous spinoffs from prohibition, discreetly called “clubs,” and installed in attractive former residences. These were quite respectable, appropriate spots to take one's mother, wife, or girl friend, meet other friends, and have a drink or two. As two of the nicer establishments were handy to the Central and Roanoke field, mutual benefit resulted. A few drinks at a favorite club would remove any inhibitions about riding in one of those dangerous flying machines. Others, returning from the introductory aerial excursion, felt an immediate need for a bit of a bracer.

As the local population increased and some law and order came to the flying business, more complaints were filed against the popular little airport. None are recollected against the “clubs” but, as remembered, the spring of 1927 saw the last of any aviation activity at Central and Roanoke.

During spring vacation my husband and I visited my family who lived at the northwest corner of 3rd Street and McDowell Road. The house was on the east half of the lot, and the west two acres belonged to an aged, half-blind horse named Laddy. East of the house was a large clear lawn and in its center grew a very tall and conspicuous cottonwood tree which fascinated the nearby pilots. They made frequent swoops at its tall top, coming near enough to rustle the leaves and stir up the neighborhood, but never sufficiently low to hit it.

One afternoon mother and some friends were having tea in the yard and a red biplane came screaming over to make the customary salute to the tree. The ladies squealed and scattered as the pilot circled to make another pass. This time his depth perception failed or he misjudged his airplane's capabilities, as when he pulled up the red tail hit the tree's top. A shower of leaves, birds' nests, broken limbs, and dirt made a shambles of the tea table and the yard.

All this racket startled Laddy who commenced running in circles and fell into an irrigation ditch which held some two feet of water. The poor, feeble, disoriented animal was unable to get up, and the Fire Department had to be summoned to rescue him.

Mother was in a fine rage. She began by phoning the governor, worked her way down through the legislature to the police department, voicing complaints to all and finished with a thank you call to the fire department, dispatching two cases of beer to that worthy organization as a more concrete expression of her gratitude.

The following day, when things were almost back to normal, my husband and I visited the airport, planning to take a ride in one of the ships. The place was deserted and all that remained of the busy little operation were a couple of sawhorses and a few empty oil cans neatly stacked under a tree.

The red airplane's spectacular buzz job had been a farewell salute to the Central and Roanoke Airport. It also marked the beginning of the end of the several other sandlot aviation operations in what is now the inner city.

Push pin shows approx. location of airport at Central & Roanoke in modern Phoenix

Sunday, January 26, 2020

The El Tovar - 1910

The El Tovar Project can be read here:
https://issuu.com/arizonahistorystories/docs/the_el_tovar
Here's the story behind the story about The El Tovar in 1910.  As you know, we've been working mostly on the Canyon Diablo Train Robbery and Leo The Flyin' Lion stories.  Well, as we've been slogging our way through those two stories, it became apparent that we'd need a publishing mechanism or venue to package and distribute those two stories.

We immediately thought of the ebook format.  And we kept thinking of the ebook format to the point of not bothering to think of anything else.  We spent ridiculous amounts of time beginning to learn about ebook publishing.  Then it became apparent we needed a "dummy" project to take all the way through the ebook publishing process.

That's how the El Tovar Project came about. George Wharton James was a prolific producer of untold 1000's of words about The Grand Canyon.  He just spewed out words like Niagara Falls spews out water.  All of his works are in public domain.

So, we went to one of his books titled "Grand Canyon, How To See It" and looked around for some suitable text to lift out of the book.  We quickly found it in The El Tovar.  James provided a relatively concise (for James, anyway) description of The El Tovar and its features.  It was just the right length with which to conduct the experiment or "proof of concept," if you will.

Of course, the next challenge lay in how to convert James narratives to editable text.  Luckily, we had already discovered the Google Drive/Docs OCR functionality.  Once we downloaded the free Google ebook on Grand Canyon, we then printed the appropriate pages as an image rather than a PDF.  We uploaded this to Google Drive and then used Google Docs to convert the image of text to real text.

And that when the not-so-fun-stuff began.  We started wrestling with Amazon's Kindle ebook publishing tools.  Gosh, what a frustrating, inscrutable, annoying process.  We've been working with computers since the early 1980's and the Kindle process easily qualifies as one of the most disgusting functionalities we've worked with.  UGH!

Anyway, we finally forced our way through the process of formatting an experimental publication.  Then we began the equally inscrutable process of attempting to actually publish the project. HAHAHA!  That's when Amazon said, "YOU MUST CHARGE $$$!"  Well, we don't want to charge money.  We want all our stuff to be free.  No exceptions.  No matter what we did, we couldn't get around that roadblock.

OH!  How disappointed we were.  But on the other hand, we were grateful that we used a short experimental project to get to the point of realizing there is NO WAY Amazon will allow a free ebook on the Kindle platform.

Meanwhile, Dear Friend Randy Lloyd reminded us of the Old School, tried-and-true PDF process.  Heck, we've been using PDFs since the Pleistocene and creating PDFs is a no brainer as far as we're concerned.  We used Apache Open Office to create an ODT file that we then exported as a PDF.

Then we uploaded the PDF to Google Drive and created a shareable link.  So far, so good but that's still not quite the equivalent of actual publishing.  At least we were able to wave BYE BYE to Amazon ebooks!

This morning (01/26/20) Dear Friend Br'er Lar helped us remember Issuu.  Ironically, we had already used Issuu seven years ago to publish my Dad's book.  (For a recap of that process see: http://www.livesimplecaremuch.com/2013/01/dads-book-is-online.html ).

Anyway, we established a new Issuu account and uploaded the PDF from Google Drive and, POOF, The El Tovar Project was officially published...for FREE..and in a format that works on any device anywhere.

So, in any event, it's been a long, tedious and finally rewarding process.  The El Tovar Project served its purpose well.  And besides serving its purpose, it's a fun read in its own right.  Win-win situation!

Just in case you want to read or download the original PDF, it is here:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Ld5Yv9Lq2IDb0Ugx_FgnCcwu9CzFqfaw/view

Saturday, January 25, 2020

His Story

Greetings and Thank You for visiting AZITWAS, a catchall blog for our various Arizona history-related media resources.  This blog is maintained by John Parsons of The Verde Valley in Arizona.

Contact Parsons via: arizonahistorystories@gmail.com

As of January 2020 our online resources include:

https://azitwas.blogspot.com/

https://www.facebook.com/ArizonaHistoryStories/

https://triviaofhistory.blogspot.com/

http://myarizonatales.blogspot.com/

https://leotheflyinglion.blogspot.com/

https://canyondiablo.blogspot.com/

http://www.us89team.com/


Susun & John love studying history together.
John Parsons was born November 1947 in Tippecanoe County, Indiana.  He grew up with the rich history of French exploration, Indian wars, pioneer settlement, freighting on The Wabash River, a spider web of history railroads and the beloved 19th Century architecture of Lafayette, Indiana.

Parsons graduated from Purdue University in 1970 with a degree in Journalism and History.  He owned and published paid circulation weekly newspapers based in Zionsville, Indiana.  He moved to Tucson, Arizona, in 1979 and then relocated to Flagstaff in 1980. He worked as a Grand Canyon River Guide through most of the 1980's and also served as a paid publications consultant for the former Grand Canyon Natural History Association.  Over the course of 20 years, Parsons worked in the natural resource conservation field.  He is widely known in The Verde Valley as "Mr. Verde River" for his efforts to "save" the iconic stream for which the region is known.

From 2001-2007, Parsons served as a US Forest Service Volunteer in a variety of capacities throughout the West.  From late 2007 to 2010, Parsons was Director of The Eastern Idaho Retired & Senior Volunteer Program (RSVP) in Idaho Falls.

Currently, Parsons is devoted to bringing new life to old tales by researching and retelling already legendary Arizona History Stories.