Arizona is The Horned Toad State

The San Francisco Peaks, in high Coconino County. Peggy is not a native but a naturalized Arizonan - naturalized in the sense that she came, she saw, and loved this place of rugged enduring beauty and has long since "staked out a claim" in its past heritage, present opportunities and future attainment. Thus she lays claim to "Arizona Autumn." There's a thrill in Arizona, now that autumn days are here, For the azure sky seems bluer and the air more crystal clear, Now the golden yellow aspens and the maples, burning red, Dress in gayest, glowing raiment for the dying year ahead. There's a many-colored carpet spread across each distant hill; As if summer, loathe to leave us, might be lingering there still; While the scent of smoldering bonfires makes a fragrance in the breeze, With their lazy, hazy smoke-wreaths trailing upward through the trees. Now the hunter's moon is mirrored in the lake so cold and clear, And a frosty velvet tracery on the grass will soon appear; Now while thistleboats do tailspins up and down the winding lanes. Arizona's charm grows richer, as full glory it attains. Not so long ago I was searching for new and throbbing poems of the Arizona scene and theme and was sent to seek out Mrs. James. I had known her and had once heard of her writing, but had never troubled before to gain a knowledge of her work. On the day I went to Flagstaff, I found her in the gift shop which the James' operate in that city and made inquiry concerning her poems. She was cordial and willing but modest. (All worthy writers ought to be!).

She produced a folio and from the very first line I read I knew I had found a vital and rewarding source of poetry. I selected two for my use but wished I could have included more. One I saw spoke poignantly to me of those men who had come before, had given of themselves, and joined in a continuing life under the great open skies.

Singer of the High Country

"There's a thrill in Arizona, now that autumn days are here" sang a voice from Coconino capturing "the music in the air" as did an earlier writer of a beautiful simple song which I learned in early childhood, the full magnitude of which came to me years later when I beheld my first Arizona autumn morning. I saw the cold drabness of the early hours give way to purple tints, on to the full blown glory of a radiant emblazoned horizon, and the myriad colored beauty of a scene of golden-crowned aspens, red maples, green pines and blue spruce. No wonder the bird calls were lusty and clear as the clouds sailed high in the glimpsed sky-scape. When "there is music in the air" the creative soul seeks through a stirred mind to capture the radiance that it may be recorded and shared with others. Arizona has been and is the locale of inspiration for many singers who have inscribed their word melodies on paper.

One of these singers of Arizona's land and lore is Peggy Kniskern James of Flagstaff, which nestles in the shadows of GOD'S ACRE, GRAND CANYON Here, gathered in this quiet spot, apart, Lie artist, pioneer, and weary heart; Here, young and old his journey's end must findThat end, which seems so grim, but yet is kind, For, done with life, and all its changing ills, The vast, enduring spirit of the hills Enfolds these dead who rest in beauty here, Forever free from sorrow, pain and fear. Sleep sweetly here, beneath the open sky, The past forget, while day and night drift by; Soft bosomed in the mighty heart of earth, To feel, with each recurring Spring, new birth. With sun and wind and rain may you be one, And gladly may you rest, your labor done.

I became interested in the person who could write such singing lines of portrayal and understanding. Here nature sang in words and cadence carrying the blended colors fromthe pallet of an observing artist, and the under and overtones of melody of a lyric composer. Peggy Kniskern James was born (“more years ago than I will tell anyone”) at Deposit in the beautiful Delaware Valley of southern New York. She was the youngest, and only daughter, in a family of three children. She attended school in New York and was graduated from the Bainbridge High School, from the Oneonta State Teachers College, and did special work at Cornell University at Ithaca. Her education was supplemented further by a trip to Europe.

For a time she was a teacher at Woodmere Academy at Woodmere, Long Island. Like others who have become longtime residents of Arizona, Peggy James first came as a winter visitor to Phoenix in the Valley of the Sun. She prolonged that visit by accepting an oppointment as librarian at Fort Whipple, then an army post with Major Shepard commanding, and now the site of a famous Veteran's Facility hospital near Prescott. But Peggy James' preference for teaching took her back into that profession in the Wickenburg schools and then to Prescott and Tucson principalships. She was married to J. Campbell James in St. Luke's Episcopal Church, Prescott, and they later moved to the Grand Canyon.

During the years of residence at Grand Canyon the poetic voice of Peggy Kniskern James was unleashed and from 1936 through 1938 her poems appeared in “Poet Lore,” “Saturday Evening Post,” “The Sunday Referee” (England), the National Park Service Bulletin and other printed sources. In 1936 her poem “My Wish For You” appeared in the Saturday Evening Post and was read in turn by Major Bowes on the radio program “The Capital Theatre Family.” It was also in 1936 that Mrs. James won the $1,000.00 Palmolive contest with her poem and 100 word letter submitted therewith. In 1938 the poem “Half a Loaf” was published in “Poet Lore” (Boston) and is by permission reproduced here. It carries a quality of human concern and tenderness needed in these days when millions are hungry and other millions are complaining About slight deficiencies of an economy of abundance. “Oh, half a loaf,” they glibly say “Is better than no bread at all.” I wonder if they know, who speak so wise, The heart's deep longing for the measure full? The loaf the bread of mutual love and sacrifice, Its texture fine in confidence, in trust, in common joy. The satisfying feel of being first With that one soul in all this earth Who has the power to fill my deepest need. Just half a loaf! A crumb, in kindness given A tender word, a gentle touch, a token small, A sign that my devotion is accepted By that dear one who holds my heart in thrall. Why, half a loaf is ample fare for starving men! Peggy James has something else more profound and more universally satisfying in her nature poems than even this call of human concern of “Half A Loaf.” It is this deeper call of the strength and purpose of life that abounds in the great untouched wilderness of beauty of the high country of Arizona that refreshes the heart and soul of a restive and yearning humanity. It is this deeper voice of quiet melody that changes life to a marching and marshalling of the forces of man to take a fresh start at mid-day, and calls him to reach the heights ere sundown. Out of the renewal of spirit the lagging mind and body seem to be revived. Many come to Arizona and the land and its people speak to the weary traveler and a new heritage of greater wealth becomes his in reality. Peggy James speaks that message in this poem

Painting the clouds with a color divine. Grandeur! And mine, to keep! Mine are the everlasting hills, aflame With the glory of God; Flowering fragrance, color and form, Spring from the lowliest clod. Mine is the song the stars are singing, Wheeling across the sky; Whirling and turning since time's beginning, Watching the worlds go by. The night, with its silence and peace is mine, Marking a rest from strife. Mine is the earth and the fulness thereof; Mine is the joy of life!

In 1939 the James' opened a book and gift shop in Flagstaff, and there their friends find them selling not simply articles and books but unexcelled Arizona, and living daily the serenity of life which the mighty hills portray. Since Peggy speaks of her "two grand brothers" one suspects that family life was happy and that the social nurture of the early years was good and that something of her own early life is reflected in the lines "The Old House Speaks," and the joy of the family life and the companionship within the walls of a home becomes an on-going influence. Homes are more than buildings, but homes in Arizona are places of room, sunshine and tender memories. Yes, Arizona speaks in the words of poets. Poetry is the natural language for its story and Peggy James enunciates the message in her word pictures of strength, love and duty; of ruggedness, song and beauty. From the heights of Coconino she sends out lyrics of joyous simple rapture of the reality that is Arizona.

MY WISH FOR YOU

God grant you know the loveliness That lies in common things! The smell of earth and summer rain, The brilliant flash of bluebirds' wings; The white cloud frigates sailing high Across the ocean of the sky. The laughter of a happy child, The winds of heaven, blowing wild, The velvet mystery of the night, The daily miracle of light, Music of the morning breeze, Playing the organ of the trees! A love for these within your heart, Joy and you need never part.

THE CABIN ROAD

Let others praise the broad highways Where cars speed up and down; My song is of a little road That leads away from town; A little road that saunters on, Tall pines on either side, Green ferns a-growing soft and cool, Where small, wild creatures hide. There, chattering squirrels and screaming jay Pursue their ancient feud, Which, with each season's crop of nuts, Is lustily renewed. There, every rough and rugged rut Is like some gruff old friend, Who says, "In just a moment now, You'll reach your journey's end." There, every turn and twist and bend Reveals new beauty rare, And it's a tonic just to breathe The forest-scented air. Let those who will, take book and bag Neath foreign skies to roam; Just leave for me my little road, That turning, twining, twisting road, That laughing, lazy, little road, That finds my cabin home.