DESERT VIEWPOINT

PHOTOGRAPHS BY JOSEF MUENCH There are a great many places in Arizona where you can get a Desert Viewpoint. The landscape was laid out that way. Every so often the earth lifts itself by its own bootstraps to an eminence where the surroundings can be looked over.

It may be a spot on one of the several Rims of the Grand Canyon. There Time itself looks into the mirror of the past, over weathered slopes of centuries, down the ragged canyons of eons to the very dawn of Earth's history. There a minute is no bigger than a grain of sand underfoot and the cliffs measure their years by the cosmic calendar.

From the rim of the Painted Desert, the viewpoint is quite different. Color here seems to be the gage of the universe. Everything is measured in purples and pinks, russet browns and yellow, shifting like the shades and shapes in a kaleidoscope. The human eye tries to make a paved road of a sun-baked desert wash and figuring distance by common standards, is tricked into thinking it is two or three miles away when it may really be ten or twenty.

Sunset Crater, a scant thousand-year-old viewpoint, looks off to its parent, the San Francisco Peaks, to consider the forest cover which maturity will bring to its own smoke-rimmed slopes. Or perhaps a pass in the Black Mountains, the lookout above Congress Junction on Yarnell Hill, a clearing in the Chiricahua Mountains opens up wide spaces and dares the mind to grasp the immensity spread out before. All of these and many more lofty platforms in the state offer reviewing stands for the parade of the Desert. No two are alike. Some are framed by pines or junipers, others peer from stands of Saguaros or Joshua Trees. The summit may be bare or densely wooded. And though it is the Desert they look out upon, that too is differently planned and quite varied in its execution.

But the more of them the spectator experiences, the more surely will he come to think in terms of the unity of the Desert Viewpoint. The words, if you try to describe them, can be in many languages; the thought is all the same.

Your Desert Viewpoint won't sound just like mine, but eventually we will get together and agree on the same arguments.

We have all been very busy trying to remodel the world. On these high points we pause, if only because we're out of breath, to look over what has gone before and what is likely to come.

The air is very clear. Our heads aren't fogged with our own breath, no matter how many other visitors may

OPPOSITE PAGE

"BEAR GRASS AND DESERT HILLS" BY JOSEF MUENCH. 4x5 Graphic View camera, 54" Zeiss Tessar lens, Type B Ektachrome with a conversion filter, ½ sec. at f.25. Blooming bear grass plants (Nolina bigelovii) wave great, yellow banners greeting visitors through Sitgreaves Pass in western Arizona.

be standing beside us. What do we see? Perhaps at first, only that everything is very far away and very large and awe-inspiring. We can look from the toes of our comfortable traveling shoes out so far that a human being must be in motion to be distinguished from a cactus plant. An army, moving in columns across our landscape, would be conspicuous as the unguessed cause of a trail of dust. Man, our great canvas tells us, is not the most significant factor. If the idea makes us squirm, it is basic to the pattern.

And the pattern is what counts. As soon as we've adjusted our mental sights to the distance, the design begins to emerge. Like the image on sensitized paper in a developing bath, it almost jumps out at us. The mountains ring the horizon, those we have already climbed or hope to, with long level stretches spreading between. Some of those level places are much less rugged looking than we know them to be. They are all put together with a divine rhythm.

If we know geology, names can be put to the causes for that volcanic ridge, this shapely peak, the unexpected drop, or a much-scarred canyon gorge. Alluvial slopes spread gently to flat valley floors with rocky humps poking through like islands in a dry sea. Because this is the Desert, the landscape isn't veiled in a green cover. We are seeing things as they are. Each ridge stands out like an elemental thought of the universe. There is no compromise with the law, whether of erosion, or gravity, or the demands of plants for water, or the need of a bare stream bed to make its way to the sea.

If you were to stand on that one point for a complete cycle of the seasons, as steadfast as a Saguaro, new rhythms would become apparent as part of the design. Each season says the same thing in a different key. For the Desert marks the arrival of spring and summer, fall or winter just as accurately as any land. The white of snow or spring flowers, the gold of autumn leaves, and the magic wand of rain play their part here and one look is enough to say what month is sweeping over the great spaces or piling clouds into the ocean of blue above. Then what is different for our Desert Viewpoint? An understanding of it comes slowly and may not be gained at all by the tourist who is in a hurry. It's the very opposite of rush and worry and fear or impatience. The eyes may think they are the ones who wrest it from the distance, but they make only a beginning. The ears take in the sad call of the Mourning Dove, and the whisper of a wind that woke that morning in some other land. The skin reacts to it and the nostrils quiver to catch the faint odor of sage and the spice of juniper, creosote bush, or willows along a Desert stream. Then, when the nerves, in some miraculous way of their own, begin to relax their steel springs, stretching out, as it were, in the shade of a flowering Palo Verde Tree, the whole system shares in this something that the Desert gives.

The more you look out over the realms of light and form, the more convinced your inner self becomes that the world is very large, well ordered, substantial, and beautiful. It's big enough to hold you and all your worries. It's stable enough to be there long after your every problem is solved. Sharing the sunshine with a dainty lizard on a rock, or a well-armed Barrel Cactus wreathed in flowers, you come to stand in your own place, with the universe swinging in rhythm and the desert stars above, marking another day from your Desert viewpoint.

VALLEY NATIONAL BANK . . . Continued from page seven

The allowances weren't payable until they reached their next stations. Although local stores extended credit to some of them, it was a chancey business, because the boys left the state as soon as they graduated.

At this point the Valley Bank came up with an idea. It would loan $300 to any cadet who needed it and he would sign over monthly allotments from his pay until the loan was liquidated. He was on his honor not to cancel the allotment. That and his signature were the bank's only collateral.

Thousands of boys borrowed money to take trips home, buy engagement rings, get married or go on a toot. As each class graduated, the bank would cart the cash out in an armored truck. Then the graduates would line up to receive their gold bars, silver wings and 300 bucks in that order.

All told, the bank loaned nearly $4 million to approximately 14,000 men. If a flier died in action before his loan was paid off, the bank cancelled the note and sent it, with a letter of sympathy, to his parents. Except for these write-offs, the bank sustained only 13 losses for the entire operation, and the total was only $1,164.

One of the idiosyncrasies of the Valley Bank, and one that never fails to cause visiting bankers to shake their heads in disbelief, is the "open door policy" of the top officials.

For years, Walter Bimson sat right out in the open in the Phoenix home office, available to any bank customer who wanted to ask a question or even pass the time of day. When he became board chairman, he moved to a more private location on the 11th floor and brother Carl took over an office facing the main lobby. Anyone and I mean that literally who wants to see either Bimson, simply walks up to the secretary. The girl asks the man's name and takes it in to the Bimson involved. In a matter of moments, the visitor is talking with either the president or chairman of the largest bank in the Rocky Mountain States.

The Bimson boys have always insisted that their bank people play an active part in the communities in which they live. There are, therefore, on the bank staff, alder-men, city councilmen, dozens of chamber of commerce officials and at least one mayor. This is because the local manager in the 30-odd communities served by the bank's 40 offices, is usually not only willing to work for the community, but he is invariably capable and inspires complete confidence.

Nor do the Bimsons shy away from following their own advice. The list of club memberships they belong to would fill this page. And those familiar bronze plaques, listing donors to worthy causes and civic enterprises can always be depended upon to contain one or more Bimson names.

Now while financial experts credit the Bimsons with building a nationally-known and respected bank, the brothers in turn are quite proud of the staff they have gathered together to expedite and elaborate the ideas generated.

At last count there was about 21 vice presidents listed on the bank's roster. To be a vice president at the Valley National is no empty honor, or soft sinecure. These men are principals, encouraged from their first day at the bank to think for themselves... to make decisions and accept full responsibility.

Some old-timers claim that the bank has a tough, although admittedly foolproof system, to separate the men from the boys. When a man enters the bank in an official capacity (and most of them rise through the ranks), he is given a fairly wide choice of the area in which he would like to operate. After an opportunity to get thoroughly acquainted with the bank, he suddenly finds himself, like Horatio, standing on the deck. Always available for counsel, and willing to give advice when asked for, the Bimsons cheerfully smile at him and leave him alone.

In some respects this seems to be a sink-or-swim procedure, and there have been casualties. But you have to keep in mind that the responsibility of handling millions of dollars, where a poor or careless decision could affect the fortunes and lives of countless people, a man aspiring to a vice presidency of the Valley Bank can hardly be unsure, indecisive or look for mollycoddling. He is encouraged to stand on his own feet and sound off. All that is insisted upon is that he think through the problem at hand and act on well-reasoned conviction. He, too, can be audacious, providing that it is tempered with good business sense and economic imagination.

At the same time, the rewards for men who make the grade are above average. They are inevitably in demand for responsible positions in the state. They are well paid, respected, and pretty much paddle their own canoes. The one requisite, typical of the American free enterprise system, is that they produce.

Here a word about the advantages of being a Valley Bank employee is appropriate. The banking business has long been notorious for low starting salaries, especially for beginners. Many a man and woman, fresh out of college, takes a frightened glance at the starting brackets and prefers to sell vacuum cleaners or run a machine. For those who have their eye on the long pull, however, the opportunities are not only unlimited - the rewards are fast-coming.

"The crying need in banking today," says J. E. "Jim" Patrick, executive vice president, "is for competent people who want a future and are willing to take responsibility. The way we are constantly expanding our system, we need future officers in droves. And you can't make a banker out of a college graduate overnight! If today's young men could see the opportunity from the management level, I believe they would be pounding on our doors, begging to sweep out the shop or run errands anything to get into the bank family!"

Well, forty offices means at least 40 managers and a minimum of 60 or 70 assistant managers. It also means numerous department heads - assistant cashiers and assistant vice presidents.

The bank's employee profit-sharing plan alone is worth the price of admission. Set up in 1943, and automatically encompassing anyone who has five years of continuous service, it has been a gold mine for the average employee. First of all, it requires no contribution from the employee. The bank, out of earnings, contributes a sum equal to 15% of the combined salaries of all participants.

Not long ago, vice president E. S. Lee, who is also a director of the bank, head of the investment department and coordinator of the profit-sharing fund, reported to Valley Bankers: "The average employee, who has been covered by the plan since its inception, now owns an equity valued at $28,000!" Many an employee in less glorified positions than a vice presidency is independently well-off as a result of merely working many years at his Valley Bank job, while his profit-sharing plan worked for him.

The bank's contributions since 1943 to the plan total more than $2 million. Earnings and appreciation from stock investments held by the fund have pushed its net assets up beyond $5 million.

As Carl Bimson recently commented, "the plan is a major factor in explaining why the bank has such a remarkably low rate of personnel turnover."

Of course, in addition to the profit-sharing plan, the 1,500 Arizonans who work for Valley Bank all over the state are beneficiaries of a rather benevolent employer. They have all kinds of benefits, low-cost insurance programs, sick leaves, vacations, employee clubs.

The bank has a pleasant attitude toward those millions. "Never forget," says one official in talking to new employees, "that money is entrusted to us. It belongs to our customers and stockholders. Never forget that fact!

We hold it in trust!"

Nevertheless, the bank's lending attitude, while perhaps seeming conservative because it is a bank, is as a matter of fact quite liberal when compared with other banking institutions. In talking, recently, about cattle loans, during a rather steep decline in livestock prices, Walter Bimson said, "When we're convinced of a man's honesty and ability, we'll go all the way!" And many a loan officer has been surpised to see an application with dubious collateral stamped "Approved" because top man-agement knew the character and history of the applicant.

Take the phenomenally successful instalment loan de-partment, the "little people's" department. Vice president Jo Abbott boils his philosophy down to this: "On each loan application we want to get a 'yes' answer to three questions. 1) is it good for the individual, 2) is it good for the economy of the state, 3) is it good for the bank? It has been said that only about 10% of the bank's cus-tomers, at most, qualify for a commercial or agricultural loan. We in the instalment loan department feel we can handle 100% of those customers who are entitled to credit."

This does not mean that all applicants get the cash when they blithely ask for it, of course. But Abbott's people are instructed to go to extreme lengths to help financially distressed folks "work out" their problems. In some instances this has resulted in an applicant being startled to hear, "$500 won't do you any good; you need at least $800 to get squared away and we'll make that loan!"

Abbott gets mildly indignant over some of the deals that people get into and come to the bank for help on. "If they would only read those contracts before they sign," he groans, "and multiply the payments out to see how much they are actually paying for the use of the money!" At his instigation, Valley Bank advertising periodically reminds potential borrowers to do both before going into debt.

One million is a lot of anything - but when you speak of a bank making over a million individual instalment loans, you're talking about an amount in dollars in excess of half a billion. The instalment loan department celebrated brated making its millionth loan in September, 1955, by stamping "paid" and returning the note to Mrs. Virginia K. Blackburn, a widowed Mesa schoolteacher.

Abbott points out with great enthusiasm his belief in the honesty of the average borrower with this comparison: "In 1935, this department made 5,000 loans for $1,840,000. In 1955, we made in excess of 103,000 individual loans for over $87,800,000. Most of these loans are based on the faith of the bank in the individual. Not on his 'capital', but primarily upon his reputation for taking care of his personal obligations and his ability to make a certain-sized payment each month."

Proof of the pudding, for this philosophy, is shown by net losses on instalment loans which in the year 1955 amounted to 5/100 of 1%. And further, the highest loss ratio in the department's history was in 1942 the first year of the war - when the net loss was just under ½ of 1%. Or, as Abbott says, ".. which proves that even in times of completely upset conditions these were good investments for the bank."

Walter R. Bimson, chairman of the board of the Valley National Bank, admires a favorite among the many paintings hanging in bis Professional Building office. It is "The Indian Rabbit Hunter" by veteran Taos artist O. E. Berningbaus and was purchased by the banker-art connoisseur in 1936.

Today, the bank's impressive art collection numbers close to 200 canvases by 83 American and foreign painters. Emphasis is on Southwestern art but also represented are such early American artists as Winslow Homer.

Some of the finest art in America adds to the decor of Valley Bank Branches in Arizona. Banks, according to Walter R. Bimson, chairman of the board, should have beauty as well as utility. Mr. Bimson's personal collection includes masterpieces by such French masters as Cezanne, Monet and Bracq.

It is intriguing and frankly refreshing for those of us not in the banking business to hear a modern-day banker say that he still believes whole-heartedly that the average man-on-the-street is a good risk for a bank loan.

Ralph Bruneau, v.p. in charge of real estate mortgages, elaborates a bit on the selling of mortgages: "By the end of 1936 the real estate loan volume, following the direction of Walter Bimson, became so heavy that it created a serious problem, a challenge to the bank and its management. A national bank is limited to 60% of its time and savings deposits for investment in first mortgages. And in the making of over 30,000 loans totaling in excess of $210 million, we had to interest the large investors around the country in these Arizona mortgages. We sold $102 million in FHA loans and have induced, over the years, not less than sixty eastern savings banks and insurance companies to come into Arizona and invest here. This has been a continuous process, and many times it has been necessary for the bank to sell its loans below par, often at a loss, so that we might, in turn, continue to serve our many customers throughout the state."

Bruneau continues: "It has been a great satisfaction to know that over the past two decades the bank has contributed so substantially to the growth of every community in the state. It would be difficult indeed to find any town or hamlet or even a crossroads throughout the state of Arizona that has not benefited from the Valley Bank's efforts."

The bank is now servicing for its own portfolio and investors in excess of 16,000 loans totaling more than $90 million.

A short while back, Carl Bimson was talking to the writer about a service the bank found very practical and profitable, which required, however, that the money go out of state. "I know we can easily put 10 million dollars into this," he said, "and sure it is profitable business for the bank. But we have a definite obligation here to make money available for our own communities and I don't want to take that much money out of local circulation."

When the country shivers during a stock-market drop, or "sweats it out" when automobile production temporarily slows down, the Valley Bank with calm confidence in the nation's economic future and especially Arizona's goes right on planning and spending.

The building program in Arizona has been, and continues to be, phenomenal. The Valley National is either rebuilding offices all over the state or erecting new ones to serve new community expansions. Walter Bimson, who is apt to describe himself as a "frustrated architect," insists that new Valley Bank buildings be attractive, friendly and inviting as well as functional. Hundreds of oil paintings, water colors, reproductions and sculptured pieces adorn offices all over Arizona. Responsibility for this tremendous job rests on the capable shoulders of vice president Le G. Moore. As we go to press, the 40 offices include five being rebuilt for larger, more attractive quarters, and laid out on the drawing board are seven more with four of them under construction at this moment. Total value of existing Valley Bank buildings in the state is estimated at $18 million. The annual payroll is over $5 million, plus more than a million in employee benefits, all pouring into Arizona communities.

The majority of Valley Bank stock is, of course, Arizona-owned, with 2,041 stockholders in 55 Arizona communities.

With 21 vice presidents there are at least 21 fulllength stories that could be told. And since the Valley, like all banks, consists of people rather than money or buildings, any complete story of the bank would have to include the stories of these staffers. This would require several issues of ARIZONA HIGHWAYS and space precludes.

However, a few must be mentioned, though briefly. First of all, of course, the man who has remained quietly in the background for 20-odd years with his hands on the throttle like the chief engineer of a ship, fulfilling the captain's orders H. L. "Doc" Dunham. Through the various official steps of cashier, vice president, executive v.p. and, since July, 1955, vice chairman of the board, he has maintained a watchful eye and able direction to the mounting problems of operations and personnel.

As the staff grew from 90 to 1500, it fell to "Doc" to select and train competent men and women. The job was done with the able assistance of Mrs. Bee Bush and James Dismuke. For years he was executive vice president, the man to whom the v.p.'s came with problems and requests. But more than that, it seemed that Arizona also came to "Doc" Dunham. A trim, gray-haired man with erect, military bearing, a twinkle in his eye, a nocturnal student and avid reader "smelling of the lamp," "Doc" always had a patient word for the youngster afire with ambition; the executive champing at the bit; the businessman with too much business and inventory trouble; the civic organization trying to raise funds, etcetera, etcetera.

This past year he is devoting his time to long-range planning for the bank a great necessity for an outfit that is gobbling up all available space in its Phoenix and Tucson office buildings to keep pace with business.

Charlie Patten would not wish to be singled out among other vice presidents, but he heads up the agricultural and livestock department, helping shape one of Arizona's most important economic mainstays.

Over the past two decades his department has been the major source of bank financing for the producers of livestock, feed crops, cotton and vegetables. It has loaned hundreds of millions of dollars to Arizona farmers and ranchers and normally has between $25 and $35 million in loans outstanding. Patten heads a large crew of bona fide experts in livestock and agricultural fields. He points out that 16 branches of the Valley Bank are located in predominantly agricultural communities and all 40 branches serve farmers and ranchers in many ways.

Visiting bankers are often astounded to learn that the Valley Bank finances growing crops with no other surety in many cases than the yielding ability of the crops themselves. It is not pure hunch, however. The fieldmen inspect the crops, the fertilizing, the land and cattle. One of them (C. C. "Bud" Cooper, Jr.), flies a Valley Bank-owned plane low over the remote ranch fields to inspect the "stand" of the crop, the amount of land under cultivation and its condition. Mention an area no one else has ever heard of and the fieldmen will respond, "That's old Bill's spread. I've known him 30 years and his pappy before him. They were always good farmers!"

"Arizona's Bank" has a Foreign Department as a matter of course. Big, genial Rudolf Zepeda heads it up as vice president, but he is seldom in his colorful Phoenix offices. His time is generally spent in Canada or Mexico, or bouncing around Europe talking to correspondent banks.

Roger Hafford, also in Phoenix, heads up another huge staff of experts in the commercial loan department - known to every retailer and merchant in the state. The untold millions poured into buildings and inventories and expansion programs through this part of the Valley Bank have had and are having an affect beyond measurement on the Arizona economy.

Every bank, of course, has to have a cashier, and holding down that job quietly, efficiently and very capably is vice president James Dismuke. He also serves as secretary to the board and is in charge of the Phoenix home office.

A business development department, under direction of v.p. Elmer Schall, assiduously cultivates the treasurers and financial men of national corporations, seeking to interest them in their firm's stake in the Arizona market. The Schall men's theme is that "Your dollars on deposit in the Valley Bank are put right to work in the com-munities where your products are sold. So your deposits benefit you as well as the state of Arizona." The last check of the 10 largest corporations in America listed 9 of them as Valley customers. (No. 10 had no west-of-the-Mississippi interests.) Women, too, come into their own at the Valley National. With 18 women officers, headed by full-fledged vice president Mrs. Bee Bush, the Arizona bank has the largest percentage of women officers in the banking business.

Tucson, Arizona's second-largest city, has a mammoth operation of its own. Four Valley Banks there (with a fifth under construction) "report" to vice president Mundey Johnston. Headquarters is the 12-story Valley National Building, dominating the downtown center of the proud "Old Pueblo" whose history dates back to the Spanish Conquistadores - and beyond.

With an aside for one more vice president, following, we will leave these competent gentry to their work.

In the bank's Security Building sits a black-haired Princetonian with rimless glasses, a subtle, whimsical sense of humor and a penchant for double-entry book-keeping. H. A. "Herb" Leggett is, in technical terms, the bank's economist. At any other bank that could be a dull and drab job. But not at all at the Valley Bank. For Leg-gett's main mission in life seems to be to brighten the corner where he is. And in the process, he has brightened the name of the Valley National Bank throughout the nation.

Every month he puts out a four-page bulletin called "Arizona Progress." The last three pages are rather statistical, reporting the latest trends in business. Ostensibly the reason for the bulletin's publication, these figures were for years on end the only accurate source of Arizona economic data, for Arizona had no state chamber of commerce. But the front page of "Progress" is always devoted to an essay in the inimitable Leggett style. And the essay is the main reason the bulletin is read wherever people customarily do read bank publications - and in a host of places where no bank material would normally ever be read.

He writes on anything and everything, and least of all on banking. He deals mainly in subtle satire, the gentle spoof, the inverse epigram. He pulls the stuffing out of stuffed shirts, de-horns sacred cows and riddles popular illusions including, especially, the one that bankers can't write and don't have a sense of humor.

Lest one writer get carried away with the virtuosity of another, let me hasten to add that Herb Leggett, for all his light touch, is no court jester. He serves on innumer-able committees for economic development, is always off speaking to banker-gatherings on economics. In 1949 and 50, he chairmaned the Governor's Industrial Development Committee which studied and sponsored major revisions in our tax laws for the benefit of manufacturers operating in Arizona. The recommendations of this committee were adopted in toto by the legislature which passed three separate laws eliminating or substantially reducing the taxes applicable to Arizona manufacturers. These reforms, in which Leggett was the guiding hand, have been largely responsible for Arizona's phenomenal industrial growth in recent years.

"Arizona Progress" goes out to 25,000 free subscribers all over the country. They include bankers, business executives and just everyday people who like a nicely-turned epigram and a nicely-shattered shibboleth. It brings in five or six letters a day. It also brings in a considerable number of new residents lured to Arizona by Leggett's eulogistic essays on the subject - and many of them become Valley Bank customers. It seems impossible to have talked about bank per-sonalities thus far without mentioning "Mr. Arizona," honorary board chairman Roy Wayland. But Roy has been featured so many times we assume everyone knows of him and his firm guiding hand on the Valley Bank helm for many years. His experience has been an invaluable help to all Valley Bankers of high and low degree.

The bank spends a healthy amount of money on advertising, both locally and nationally, for aggressive Valley National is not one to hide its frank solicitation of business under a bushel. As a consequence, added to the impact of "Progress," the bank officials' constant calls on fellow bankers across the nation and speeches at bank conventions, it is far better known than many larger banks, both at home and abroad.

Among its numerous innovations are the "Finance Forums" held in various Arizona cities for the benefit of customers who want to know more about the intricacies of investments, insurance practices and trust functions. It publishes a "Calendar of Events" used by newspaper editors as well as the general public; it has an agricultural and livestock digest which goes out monthly to interested ranchers and farmers all over the state.

Its trust department, headed by senior vice president Lynn Loyd, recently retired from Chicago's Harris Trust, has millions of dollars in wills and trust agreements. Recently established, and first in Arizona as they proudly point out, is its new Common Trust Fund which spreads the investment base for the small trust customer and permits unusual diversification and consequently, protection.

As a leader among Arizonans looking to the future, the Valley Bank long ago came to the conclusion that the only hope of continuing the progress the state had made was to attract more payrolls. Joining with others, it concentrated on inviting light, clean industry to the state and sent its men around the country crying Arizona's wares.

The building of new homes, stores, schools and the extension of utilities inevitably follows the opening of new factories with resulting employment and payrolls. In order to attract light industry, the bank was quite self-less in action. It printed the Arizona story and advertised it nationally. The whole theme was to get principals interested in the state, which would benefit everyone here and include the Valley Bank. In order to make the state really attractive to prospects, the bank joined forces infighting repeal of stifling tax laws (see Leggett, above) which gave advantages to neighboring states. As a result, Leggett reported:

Manufacturing in the state has more than doubled since 1950 and it is fair to conclude that at least half of all the new jobs created during this period are attributable, directly or indirecly, to the growth of manufacturing."

Now, in addition to the standard manufacturing firms such as air-conditioning, food processing, lumber products and publishing, Arizona has aircraft plants, electronic industries, furniture, metal fabricating and textile firms. The impetus to the economy will enable the building industry, the retail merchants and supply industries to maintain their record of constant expansion.

Not long after a group of manufacturers did set up shop in the state, the Valley Bank bought large space in financial publications to publicize the type of firm locating in Arizona and requesting other forward-looking, similar-type firms to investigate.

The bank maintains an industrial department armed with elaborate data on labor pools, water, land values, transportation facilities, potential markets, tax laws and anything else of interest to business firms casting an eye on the state.

Now, what about the rewards to stockholders of the Valley Bank over the years the people who put their money into this Bimson-led progressive banking experiment? We quote from the January 1956 issue of "Investor's Reader", publication of Merrill, Lynch, Pierce, Fenner & Beane: "As a matter of history, a single share of stock bought for $5 in Febraury, 1935, has sprouted to 23-odd shares worth $750 (assuming all rights were exercised). The current value does not include unbroken cash dividends since 1935 (current rate is $1 a year) "In any event, anyone who planked down $500 or so for 100 shares in 1935 and subsequently exercised his rights would now have an investment worth over $85,000 plus an annual income of $2,300 a year. Even in boomminded Arizona, this is quite a 'pay-off'...

The foregoing typifies the bravura sort of frontiertaming which has been the major forte of the Valley National Bank. Nor does the bank consider that the job is anywhere near completion. Walter Bimson envisages the day when there will be a million people in and around Phoenix, to say nothing of the anticipated growth of Tucson. And Carl Bimson forsees an even greater diversification for Arizona than it now enjoys. He predicts that the state will be the distribution center for the whole Souhwest, and a center also for electronics, garment-making and air conditioning. All these in addition to its traditional role as a producer of T-bones on the hoof, copper, cotton, citrus, vegetables and tourists browned to a turn in the Arizona sun.

If the Bimsons' predictions come true (and Bimson predictions have a way of doing that), then Arizona will enjoy the same type of growth in the future as it has in the past. And the Valley National Bank presumably will do likewise. For the Bimson formula of helping to build the bank by helping to build the state seems to be as airtight and infallible as the law of supply and demand.

Yours sincerely JOHN CLUM:

The article, John Clum-Agent Unafraid, by Lee Stohlbrost, in September, was very interesting but contains a number of inaccuracies. The quotes are evidently a modern, fancied version of the conversation between Clum and the Lieutenant, as the language is not that of circa, 1873.

There is no doubt that Clum did a fine job at San Carlos, but without the Army, that would have been impossible.

The 1400 Apaches he received "the following year," from the Rio Verde Reservation, were virtually "delivered" by my father, Col. Wm. H. Corbusier, who was the Army Surgeon at Verde when the unnecessary trek across the mountains was forced by Dudley, the Indian Agent. It is this "delivery" which is the basis of my book-in-thewriting-Verde To San Carlos. Miss Stohlbrost, in quoting from Clum's first report, left out a very important passage which seems to contradict the first part of her article.

Clum had been at San Carlos just 23 days when he made that report, and Army officers, including my father, were lending every effort to get him orientated. Shocked he was, when the gory heads were delivered to him-so were others-but let's see what he really had to say about it as we quote in part from that first report.

"... and not until they bad brought in the beads of 4 outlaws were they permitted to return and to be at peace.

"This treatment may seem harsh, and so it was, yet it has taught to these, and demonstrated to others, two facts, viz: First that Indians cannot leave their reservations, go raiding about the country committing murder and theft; and secondly, that while outlaws may for a time evade the arm of the law and justice, yet that they can and will be captured and punished. Their conviction on these two points will do much toward insuring their future submission and obedience."

The picture accredited to the U.S. Signal Corps and captioned, "Agent Clum put Apaches to work on reservation projects," looks very much like the Rio Verde project (of which I had a copy-destroyed in the San Francisco fire) and has at least one Army officer and several soldiers, standing on the banks supervising the work. If this surmise is correct, the officer is Lt. Schuyler. (See his report of July 28, 1874, following Clum's.)

William T. Corbusier Long Beach, California

AUGUST COVER:

The cover picture on the August number of ARIZONA HIGHWAYS is good-but it has a wrong name on it. Either Ray Manley, or someone who set up the name for the cover, is in error. That is a photograph of Havasu Falls, the next one above Mooney Falls. I have pictures taken of both falls when I was there. To get to the base of Mooney Falls one has to go through a small tunnel, and then climb down a straight wall on spikes set in the cliff for the last thirty feet-something no horse could do. My father was one of the party of men who made the tunnel and the spike ladder to get down to bury Mooney's bones, so I ought to know. There is a horse trail down to the second falls, but Mooney Falls is the jump off.

Helen H. Seargeant Cashion, Arizona

Amos Steenart Syracuse, New York

CURE FOR SEASICKNESS:

Inez Rea Berger Long Beach, California

OPPOSITE PAGE

"SAGUARO AND AJO MOUNTAINS" BY JOSEF MUENCH. The photographer says of this photograph: "In Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, I caught sight of this view of a massive front in the rugged Ajo Mountains, framed by the finest framing material you can have in the desert-a big saguaro. It was an April afternoon, a wonderful season in the arboreal desert. 4x5 Graphic View camera, 5½" Zeiss Tessar lens, one second at f50, with a reflector to highlight parts of the saguaro frame.

BACK COVER

"WINTER SCENE-OAK CREEK" BY BOB BRADSHAW. This photograph was taken one day last December when winter sneaked in from over the Rim and turned Oak Creek into a winter fairyland. Such storms in the area are infrequent and generally short-lived. The exact location of this scene is just south of Oak Creek Bridge, nine miles north of Sedona. 4x5 Crown Graphic camera, f4.7-127 mm. lens, Ektachrome, 1/25th second at f16.

TUMBLEWEEDS

The desert breeze stirs lightly for a while, And tumbleweeds go rolling single file. But when there comes a fresh onslaught of wind, The moving lines that formerly were thinned, Go hurrying by in crowds before a blast They can't withstand. When they're subdued at last, The wind goes on in heedless nonchalance, And leaves them pilloried on a barbed wire fence.

FOOTHILL

At sunset The distant foothill stands Like an Indian warrior of old Who wraps a red blanket about his Nude shoulders and broods in silence As twilight walks like a dark-robed Priestess across the desert lighting The stars for candlesticks before The altar of approaching night.

QUICKSILVER

A fawn running Matches his legs With the beautiful Quicksilver movements Of God.

HOLIDAY SUGGESTION

Spend a Christmas on the desert, choose a yucca for your tree, with the close-hung stars of Heaven for its ornamentary.

BIRDIE, TAKE A BOUGH

A mockingbird, with song and voice To make the world-and me-rejoice, Has moved into our neighborhood As all of us had hoped he would(So I am giving him my tree Rent free).

SYMBOL

The Saguaro is a desert-cry Of thirsting earth reaching for sky.

SATISFACTION

The boy looked at the dog, the dog looked at the boy, That is how both understood That the dog would follow the boy home, For the reason very goodThat a dog needs a home and a home needs. a dog, So his home and the dog were supplied. The boy looked at the dog, the dog looked at the boy And both were satisfied.