TAKE YOUR CAMERA TO COCHISE COUNTY

Take Your

It's been a long time since my camera first led me into Cochise County, but I haven't forgotten what the first cowboy we met there had to say about this southeastern corner of the youngest state. He was sitting on his horse beside a gate they'd just come through when I stopped the car and stepped out to speak. "What can you see in this county?" He repeated my question as though it amused him, and his eyes drifted down the long stretch of valley toward distant mountains-chiseled into stark ridges in the clear, late afternoon light. "Seems to me you can see clear back to 1539. That's when the first Spaniard-Fray Marcos de Niza-came looking for some big cities. Next year another oneFrancisco Vasquez de Coronado-led an army clanking right up through this valley." The deep old voice rumbled the names off pompously as though he had practiced running them over his tongue. Then, he just happened to look down at my camera on the car seat, and he chuckled. "You won't capture any Spaniards or Apaches with that gadget-but let me tell you something-young fellow He leaned confidentially toward me over the pommel of his saddle as a sweep of his arm took in the distance."There's a darn sight more here than most visitors ever see!" I'm sure he meant to say more, if a car hadn't made him mad by rushing up from behind, startling the horse with a loud honk, and then whizzing past us. The cowboy straightened up, lifted the reins and tossed over his shoulder as the horse moved away: "I reckon you'll have to look for it yourself, the way all the others did." He was gone before my camera could get into action, but as I think back, I'm glad he left it at that. It's been a challenge ever since. There's no country I know of with more "hidden treasure" for the camera. Out of sight in expanses of "flat" desert are lush valleys and pleasant ranches; "barren" mountains are embroidered by exciting and colorful canyons fed by springs. Ghost towns and living ones pop into view when you least expect them. History seems to permeate the landscape, or is it the landscape that permeates history? A really methodical traveler would make a list of the main points of interest and line up impressive statistics on this 6000 square miles of fascinating land. He'd probably note first of all from a map, that U.S. Highway 80 forms the lower half of a roughly diamond-shaped quadrangle. Starting halfway down the county on the east, along the New Mexico border, it slants to Douglas, just across the street from Mexico; then west and north, through Bisbee and Tombstone to St. David and Benson. The top half, formed by State 86, angles up through

Camera to Cochise County

... and always Boothill ...

... and signs to point your way ...

Willcox almost to the next county line before dipping through Bowie and San Simon-east to New Mexico again, joining U.S. 80 a few miles over the Arizona boundary.

U.S. Highway 666, coming south from Safford (up in Graham County), cuts the diamond about in half, on a route which touches Cochise, Pearce and Elfrida on the way to Douglas.

When you've covered the something over 250 miles of those smooth-sailing paved roads, you've gone through the whole county's five largest towns (one of themDouglas-the state's fourth largest), as well as a number of smaller ones.

Inside of the diamond is that scenic gem, the Chiricahua National Monument and the memory-haunted glade of Cochise's Stronghold in the Dragoon Mountains. Outside of it, in the southwestern corner is the newer Coronado National Memorial and lively Fort Huachuca, set up in 1877 to protect settlers from Apache raids and currently an Electronics Proving Center.

But writing down names of towns and parks, adding up the income from Bisbee's copper mines, Douglas' big smelter, all the cattle shipped from Willcox or the cotton, lettuce, alfalfa and chile peppers grown at Elfrida or Kansas Settlement, won't begin to give you a glimpse of what my old cowboy meant there was to see. It does suggest some of the pictures to be taken-cowboys during roundup time, fields of white cotton wedged in between bright red pepper patches, sunset coloring on the man-made clouds of smoke from Douglas' twin smoke stacks.

It's only fair to admit that my camera and I aren't methodical when it comes to traveling and we don't feel obliged to stay on the paved roads. This past spring, for example, we followed flower trails down from the north and went wherever they took us. Spring is a movable festival in the desert and if we'd believed what we were told-the camera could have staid home in mothballs. "There just aren't any wildflowers this year," everyone said.

Fortunately for us, that word hadn't reached acres of poppies near Willcox and the speedometer hardly turned all day while we rushed on foot from one lovely setting to another. There were seas of golden poppies and colonies of white ones, Mariposa Lilies and Desert Marigolds, white dandelions and gay patches of a tiny yellow groundcover. Great red posies of Strawberry Hedgehog Cactus were scattered among Yuccas that wore impressive pannicles of lilies. Lavender-edged Sego Lilies and the pink seed of Fairyduster caught the eye with Lupines to add a dash of sky blue. The taller, branching Spanish Daggers were just thinking about flowering, but they gave a nice accent. Agaves, at the feet of the Dragoons hadn't more than begun to lift stalks which, in another month would serve up lofty platters of yellow. We saw Barrel Cactus still flaunting crowns of last year's withered blossoms and Chollas showing, here and there, a tentative bud. It reminded us that hardly a month in the year passes without some desert plant upholding the family honor with its characteristic flower. Just east of Willcox, along State 86, is a ready composed picture of white Yuccas that bloom all year. They are part of a delightful painting of early Apache life, on the overhang of an Arizona Highways Roadside Park shelter. The local Garden Club should have the credit with a bow to each of the ranchers who contributed so that cattle brands could decorate the lower edge. Sitting at one of the picnic tables in the shade, grateful visitors have a wonderful vista of grassy valley and purple peaks.

Over in Tombstone, where we went to have the experience of walking on a carpet of petals, the famous Queen of Roses, the veteran Lady Banksia, had rushed the season, blooming in April instead of the guide-book month of May. Notified of the coming event, the countryside-even beyond the county borders-provided a thousand visitors one Sunday. Quite a few people even for colorful Tombstone, to see this vine, largest in the world-with a girth of fifty-eight inches and covering a 4620 square-foot arbor. You'll try your camera on this rose and if the results don't measure up to the eye-filling sight your eyes saw, take comfort in the fact that it's been growing here since about 1885 and will bloom next year for you to try again. The problem is to juggle the light meter so as to satisfy deep shade under the tangle of interwoven branches where few flowers show, with the brilliant sun on top where a blanket of delicate blossoms lie heaped open to the sky. While the Lady Banksia might be considered the only living personality actually present in the heyday of Tombstone, there are many other reminders of that lively time. Old freight and ore wagons on Allen Street pose for their picture and at the edge of town the original Cochise County Courthouse is being restored. In the 1880s it was hailed as one of the finest buildings of the era. Scheffelin Hall, the office of the "Tombstone Epitaph," the Bird Cage Theater and Crystal Palace, are almost part of the American vocabulary. Each played a part in the story which is the classic of all western thrillers. Not as easy to retain was the O.K. Corral (still marked by a sign) where a 20 (or was it a 30 second?) gunfire battle claimed three lives.

If you linger a while in Tombstone you'll realize that the question-were the Earps or the Clantons more sinned against than sinning?-is still open. And where else would you turn with assurance to the cemetery for interesting pictures? The past is written on each wooden marker and the graves of those hanged legally or by mistake, are tended as carefully as those of law abiding settlers. Equally respected is the memory of John Slaughter, who brought law and order with the judicious use of his gun, to the town.

Yes, the atmosphere of the old days lingers on in certain streets, like the fragrance of the Lady Banksia. Because of it-the motto "the town too tough to die" might someday be changed to read-"the town too busy to die."

From Tombstone, the mind, as well as roads, leads off in any of several possible directions. An interesting one from the end of Allen Street wanders away to Charleston on the San Pedro River. Now no more than a railroad siding, it was once the site of a stamp mill for "SPRING SCENE-COCHISE COUNTY" BY PETER BALESTRERO. 485 Linhof camera; Ektachrome; f.16 at 1/10th sec.; 15 CM. Schneider lens; late June, bright mid-morning; meter reading 350. Photograph was taken eight miles north of Willcox on the road to Aravaipa Canyon, one of Arizona's scenic canyon jewels. Here is shown the stately yucca in bloom. The yucca in this valley seem to be in full bloom about three weeks later than in other areas in Southern Arizona because of the higher elevation. There are a half dozen or so delightful guest ranches in Cochise County open all year long. Information on the ranches is obtainable by writing to the Chambers of Commerce at Bisbee or Douglas.

NOTES FOR PHOTOGRAPHERS OPPOSITE PAGE FOLLOWING PAGES

"BISBEE AMID THE HILLS OF OLD COCHISE" BY RAY MANLEY AND NAURICE KOONCE. 5x7 "Manley Aerial Color Camera" designed by Ted Schwartz to specifications of Manley Studio: Anscochrome, overdeveloped stop; f.8 at 1/500 sec.; 8½" Schneider Symar lens; September, 1957; morning-clear sky: ASA rating 400. Photograph shows Tombstone Gulch and Bisbee. Arizona, one of America's most important copper camps. The photographers, who took this aerial view, say: "We have designed a new aerial camera that combines all the desirabilities of a good aerial camera using the finest lens ever designed (in our opinion) and the revolving back of a 5x7 Linhof, building a body and hand grips suitable to our needs. This camera allows the use of 5x7 color film or black and white interchangeable or 485 if required. The lens is critical wide open at f.5.6 and with its rigid body can be held out into the slip stream of the air with no bellows collapse, etc."

"LAVENDER PIT, PHELPS DODGE CORPORATION, BISBEE BY RAY MANLEY AND NAURICE KOONCE. 5x7 "Manley Aerial Color Camera"; Anscochrome; f.8 at 1/500th sec.; 8%" Symar lens; early September, 1957: bright sun; ASA rating 400. One of Arizona's important copper developments in recent years is the Lavender Open Pit Mine development by the Phelps Dodge Corporation in Bisbee. Surface mining makes it possible to mine lower grade ore by electric shovel, train and truck. Bisbee is one of America's important copper mining centers.

"VIEW OF FORT HUACHUCA, ARMY ELECTRONICS CENTER BY RAY MANLEY. 485 Linhof camera; Anscochrome; f.20 at 1/25th sec.; September, 1957, bright sunny day: ASA 400 rating. Fort Huachuca in the Huachuca Mountains of Cochise County, twelve miles from the Mexican border, was first occupied by U.S. troops in March, 1877, during the Apache Indian Wars. Hard-riding U.S. Cavalrymen and later the 25th Infantry occupied the post during two World Wars, but when it finally seemed as if it would be a relic of the past, it was designed as an Army Electronic Proving Ground. At an elevation of 4,635 feet. Fort Huachuca has a delightful year-long climate. The word "Huachuca" (wa-choo-ka) is a Chiricahua-Apache word meaning "thunder."

Pause by the side of the road

CENTER SPREAD

"PANORAMA, CORONADO NATIONAL MEMORIAL" BY PETER BALESTRERO. 5x7 Corona View camera; Ektachrome; between f.8 and f.11 at ½ sec.; Schneider-Zenar f4.5 21 CM lens; early September, 1957, at five or six minutes before sundown. Photograph taken at end of footpath leading from parking area to peak of Montezuma Pass in Coronado National Memorial. Flowers in bloom are the Cholla cactus. These flowers bloom at this time because of high elevation. Looking from this point east one sees the Mule Mountains near Bisbee and beyond the Sulphur Springs Valley, to the west is the San Raphael Valley, and to the south lies Mexico. The sweeping panorama dramatizes the colorful terrain so characteristic of Cochise County.

"ALONG THE SAN PEDRO NEAR ST. DAVID" BY RAY MANLEY. 4x5 Linhof camera; Anscochrome; f.20 at 1/15th sec.; 5" Optar lens; September, bright day. The San Pedro is one of the two principal tributaries of the Gila. It enters Arizona from Sonora and flows through Cochise and Pima Counties into Gila County where it joins the Gila. The photograph was taken near St. David, historic Mormon community in Cochise County.

"CHILI HARVEST IN SULPHUR SPRINGS VALLEY" BY WESTERN WAYS. 4x5 Graphic View camera; Ektachrome; f.18 at 1/10th sec.; 4.7 Ektar 127 MM. lens, late October, early afternoon. Photograph taken near Elfrida, Sulphur Springs Valley, Cochise County. Since the war, extensive acreage in this area has been devoted to the cultivation of chili peppers.

"CATTLE HERD IN COCHISE COUNTY" BY PHYLLIS BALESTRERO. 4x5 Combat Graphic camera; Ektachrome; f.8 at 1/50th sec.; Ektar 4:7 lens; September, 1957, early afternoon, clear day. Meter reading 400. Photograph taken entering Cochise County from Fort Huachuca-Canelo Road between Parker Canyon and the foothills of Montezuma Pass. Cochise County is a leading cattle raising county in the state. Because of more rainfall than in the desert regions of the state, the grass crop in Cochise County is exceptionally good.

"IN PICTURESQUE TEXAS CANYON, NEAR WILLCOX" BY DAVID MUENCH. 4x5 Speed Graphic camera; Ektachrome; f.16 at 1/10th sec.; Ektar 6" lens; June, sunny day with scattered clouds. Texas Canyon-on Arizona State Highway 86, between Benson and Willcox, is a high spot, both as to elevation and interesting views. This is a striking area-desert with fantastic rock formations making a stage-set backdrop for cactus, agaves and ocotillos. This area has fascinating rock forms and plant life that are always a challenge to the photographer.

OPPOSITE PAGE

"IN COCHISE STRONGHOLD" BY RAY MANLEY. 5x7 Linhof camera; Anscochrome; f.25 at 1/25th sec.; 8%Symar lens: late August, 1957, mid-morning light, slight overcast. ASA 450. Cochise Stronghold, cast of highway running north from Douglas to Willcox, is this beautiful recreational area with picnic tables and shade trees. Here the great Apache chief, Cochise, is buried in an unmarked grave. Tombstone ore. Cottonwood trees kindly shade the fragments of adobe walls and the place is very very quiet. Beyond, the road continues southwest to Fort Huachuca (which can also be reached on several other highwaysall paved). When the fort was established, on the eastern flanks of the Huachuca Mountains, this was wild and uninhabited country, indeed.

Now, the lights of the rapidly expanding post flood the valley at night and seen from U.S. 80, between Tombstone and Bisbee, look like some great metropolis. Several trailer and small-house towns have sprung up to provide for civilians and servicemen's families, complete with skating rink, neon-lighted shopping centers and the corner gas station. In the bustle of traffic, the ghosts of Coronado's army wouldn't have a chance.

State 92 takes you quickly past all the modern activity and on south to the Coronado National Memorial. Up a canyon road in Montezuma Pass are some memorable overviews. The cream may be had at the end of a short walk to Coronado Peak, looking out onto a tremendous sweep of country. The solid form of San José Peak, in Mexico looms up over a picture-map of winding roads that appear and disappear in folds of the desert terrain. A satisfying frame of Cholla Cactus, bright with yellow fruit, or Oaks, pines and junipers can be used to picture some of the expanse that's almost more than a camera can handle. One must look carefully indeed to trace the slender line of fence marking the international boundary. Film refuses to see any difference-recording it all as one, whether in Mexico or the United States, all with that special desert quietness which becomes so precious when it's been experienced a few times.

Perhaps back in 1540 Indians watched the tiny figures of the Spaniards marching up through the valley without guessing (or did they know all too well?) that they had witnessed the opening of a new era as the first extensive European penetration into northwestern Mexico, the American Southwest and the western plains, kicked up the desert dust.

Of course, any of the mountains in Cochise County are photogenic, from a distance or closeup. Take Ramsey Canyon, for example, cut into the eastern side of the Huachucas. After a few bends of cottonwoods it climbs up where maples and oaks put on an annual color show in fall. In its upper reaches a little stream lingers now and then behind a low dam. The canyon floor broadens in places to make room for a house with a fresh lawn and a bright flower garden, and a quaint old log cabin stands knee deep in leaves. "Very historic," we were told, but everyone has forgotten just why.

Then there is Rucker Canyon over in the Chiricahuas with a surprise up its sleeve. High in a pine-scented basin, Rucker Lake is rimmed by tall cliffs. The national forest service keeps it stocked with from eight to fifteen inch trout on which there is no closed season. Weekends find fishermen, from five to ninety years of age, standing at every vantage point around the edge and in between times there is only the breeze playing high among the tree tops or chasing its tail over the surface of the little mountain lake. It's a spot refreshing to even think about on a warm summer day down in the desert.

Dividing the Chiricahuas from the Dos Cabezas Mountains, Apache Pass looks low when viewed from the western side. Though merely a dip in the landscape

above Sulphur Springs Valley, the landscape changes once you're over the ridge and becomes a formidable defile. It was one of the most dangerous spots in crosscountry travel on the Butterfield Stage route between St. Louis and San Francisco. Every bend in the road offered a possible Apache ambush. I've sometimes thought I would like to have been able to aim a camera during one of those historic skirmishes, but probably I'd have been busy shooting with a different purpose.

From the summit of the Pass you can make out some of the ruins of Fort Bowie, about three miles airline away through a gap in the mountains. Soldiers from the post often accompanied the stagecoach through the pass and it was a haven for immigrants headed for California. Several miles farther on, a sign erected by the town of Bowie, marks the site of the massacre of a wagon train that had no protection.

You can see short stretches of the old Butterfield Route (most of it is now covered by the modern road) and a track at the eastern entrance of the Pass leads off to the ruins of the Fort at which the stagecoaches stopped. The acreage was sold to ranchers some years ago but may be bought back for a national monument. There were about 30 buildings on a 2500 acre tract-picturesque even now when most of the adobe walls have crumbled and only outlines in rock show where others stood. Wild shrubs and cactus grow in the roofless houses and 6000foot peaks rise behind them. Even without the threat of an Apache visit-it's a wild and rather eerie place.

If no Apache is to be seen in the Pass or around the smouldering fort, you can see Cochise Head in the Chiricahua National Monument. The huge outcrop of rock shows a strong nose, high forehead, broken teeth and a 50-foot tree for an eyelash. The best views of it are reached after the beautiful drive up Bonita Canyon from the monument headquarters and campgrounds and a long lens will bring the redoubtable chief almost within touching distance.

Had you happened upon this particular route in the "Cherry Cows" (as they are called to avoid stumbling over the difficult Indian name) with no warning, there would be nothing to alert your camera or warn you that You are entering one of the charmed places of the earth. The canyon begins as any lovely forest canyon might, clothed in trees and inviting you to cool, airy heights. After a bend or two the fun begins as the walls break into the most fantastic shapes that even volcanic rock can assume. They are still cliff faces, but cracked vertically and horizontally, weathered with a delightful whimsicality, into great pillars set with gargoyles. When the sun shines on them, or after a rain, the colors are in tones of rich green, yellow, brown. In the shade, these soften to delicate pastels. Lichen gives them a fascinating texture. For hundreds of feet they tower, often balanced precariously, some toppled and others seeming to wait only a playful breeze before they fall.

From the end of the road at Massai Point, other canyons are seen to be inhabited by new varieties of creatures. The cream of the jest in stone calls for a walk to the Heart O' Rocks. Trails were built to it years ago by the CCC boys of blessed memory, winding down into one gorge and up another, passing through groves of trees. A half-hour loop trip, carefully marked so you can call your shots of the most famous of the individ-ual figures, clambers up and down for thrilling pictures of the Pinnacle Balanced Rock, Punch and Judy, Thor's Hammer and a number of others. What a feast they are for the camera-as fresh and comical on a fifth or tenth visit as on the first. From one point, Cochise Head is visible, this time with thousands of his warriors in stone -rallied in solid formations below him.

Down in Bonita Canyon, still within the monument, we spent the night at the Silver Spur Guest Ranch. Originally the CCC Camp, it has a setting in a hollow from which the rocky peaks rise sheer, protecting the green lawn with its circle of comfortable cabins and the "Stronghold" where meals are served and evening spent in front of a roomy fireplace.

Pictures of another kind are to be had in the Mule Mountains, one of the richest copper deposits in North America-where wonderful Bisbee clings to the canyon walls. The streets are built laver fashion with houses almost on top of each other. Probably a deliveryman's nightmare but what a photographer's paradise. Time has swept the "beer and blood" out of Brewery Gulch but not widened the picturesque street or taken away its charm.

Farther down in the canyon, through which Main Street makes its way with many twists, is the growing Lavender Pit, having already swallowed up the Sacramento Pit mentioned on maps. Colored lavers and ledges are busy with steam-shovels and an endless procession of trucks climbing to a conveyor belt that hoists the ore to a big processing plant. Several viewpoints have been kindly provided for "sidewalk superintendents" with rectangular, framed openings in the high fence-one at a grown person's eye level and a lower one for children -to get an unimpeded look at the activity below.

From Bisbee the ore, as well as traffic on U.S. 80, flows down the mountain slopes and east to Douglas and the Phelps-Dodge Copper Smelter. Even as utilitarian an affair as a smoke stack, pouring out white plumes is an invitation to the photographer. Add a Yucca stalk for accent and a full moon for atmosphere-and you have something. You might lie in wait for the setting sun to tint these moving clouds, as they often do, and do stop long enough to see a stream of molten slag being dumped upon a growing plateau of slag. One notes with amusement that man is cutting a mountain away in one place only to build it up in another.

Douglas has no violent history unless you count a brief revolution in nearby Mexico when rifle-fire spilled over into some of its streets from Agua Prieta. In this pleasant border town, you are apt to think more of the present than the past. Dude ranches will lure you and your lens, square dancing in the lobby of the Gadsden Hotel or visits “across the street” in Sonora.

We took a road east of Douglas, turning from U.S. 80 to head for the famous old San Bernardino Ranch to which John Slaughter, Sheriff of Tombstone, retired. It lies, all unsuspected until you reach the very rim, in a valley, watered by many springs and a small “lake” the mellowed outgrowth of an earthern tank, fed by a bubbling spring. Wild ducks settle on the water in the shade of big cottonwoods and an old adobe hourse weathers away in the quiet sunshine.

The rambling ranchhouse overlooks spacious acres once under cultivation by Chinese and Mexican truck farmers with range land beyond-clear into Mexico.

Thus, paved roads as well as dirt ones in Cochise County lead to intriguing places, if you look for them. I've always maintained that even if you never looked at the pictures you take-after they were finished-the very act of of seeing scenery for your camera brings landscapes, people and the world about you into sharper focus. So a camera lens offers the best way to really picture things in your mind.

As the cowboy said-you have to look for yourself. I haven't mentioned the windmill we “borrowed” from a friendly Danish farmer near Elfrida, to put into a splendid sunset, or a plough bent to make a standard for a mailbox along U.S. 80 near St. David. This soldier went the saying one step better-and if he didn't bend his sword into a plough-he bent the plough into a place to deposit the news of the world. Certainly no camera needs go begging in this land.

Nor have I forgotten the shapely rocks of Texas Canyon between Willcox and Benson or haunted mining towns like Courtland and Gleeson and enchanting spots like Paradise and Cave Creek Canyon on the eastern slopes of the Chirichuas. These, as well as adobes in the little town of Dos Cabezas might be saved for another time. But from any corner you choose to enter-clear off to the opposite one in the purple haze-there's a great deal to see in Cochise County, and I suggest you take your camera.

A NIGHT IN BELGRADE

The heart strings of Cochise County stretch out to far places and foreign lands. Probably one of the strongest tugs is from Bisbee to the old “white city” of Belgrade.

In the early 1900's Bisbee, the center of one of the richest copper districts of America, was one of the liveliest boom towns of the West. To it came men from all over the world-strong young men who sent home money to bring over relatives. Soon the largest foreign born group to mingle with the soft spoken Mexicans from south of the border, was the Slav. These included Polish, Bohemian, Russian, Croation and most of all, Serbian.

When the Serbs arrived they brought with them their ancient customs-the Badnji Dan (Christmas Eve) when they burned the Yule log. Jan. 7th, more than a week after their Mexican neighbors had trudged their posada and broken their last piñata, the Serbs went from house to house to greet each other with “Stretan Bozicsvima” (Merry Christmas to all) for in the Orthodox church they held to the old calendar.

Today the once nearly 300 Serbian families of old Bisbee have dwindled to less than fifty, but they do not forget their homeland and Belgrade-their “little Paris,” once one of the gayest capitals of Europe. Named for the white citadel on the banks of the Danube it was a trading center for brilliantly costumed peasants of a stock that stems from the 7th century. These were the people who for centuries warred for their faith.

Of all the Serbians in Arizona none has been more persistent in this faith than the folks of Bisbee. By 1939 they had a community building with a visiting priest-but they wanted a separate church and a resident priest. So they set out to build one.

Churches cost money and the group was small. In 1952 they found their partially constructed sanctuary at a standstill. Refusing to mortgage the church grounds they set out to gather funds. Harking back they initiated a “Night in Belgrade”-a festival repeating the type of entertainment and dining of their beloved homeland-the Kafna. They opened it to the public, charged a fee and found themselves not only with enough money to complete the church but in business. So successful was the event been that it is listed on the official state map as one of Arizona's attractions.

Sunday before Labor Day, people from all over Arizona come to the gayly decorated community house. At about 4:00 o'clock young men and women in native costume begin serving a typical Serbian dinner-Salata (tossed salad), Makarule (Macaroni with meat sauce), Kobasica (smoked sausage), Sarma (cabbage rolls), Janjetina (roast lamb), Suka (baked ham) with Kafa (coffee) and Pogaca (bread).

When the orchestra arrives the first relay of diners are served dessert of Strudela (apple and nut strudle) and Roshtulas (angel wings) to the rousing folks songs of a vocalist accompanied by a tamboritza orchestra.

As long as people come they are served and the music plays. Then, about eight o'clock the floor is cleared and the colorfully attired young waitresses and waiters swing out to the native folk dances (Kolas) until midnight. Outside the moon shines down on St. Simeon Mirotocivog Nemanje next door-the only Serbian Orthodox church in Arizona.