THE TOWN THAT COULDN'T WAIT

Scottsdale, according to its Chamber of Commerce, is “The West's Most Western Town.” But it could handle another appellation with ease: “The Town That Couldn't Wait.” Naturally the question arises, “Wait for What?” The answer, “Its own theatre and opera companies.” City planners generally agree that after a community reaches such-and-such a population it might conceivably support a playhouse; rarely, if ever, do they speculate on the possibility of an opera company. After all, if the two largest cities in the state, Phoenix and Tucson, can't boast of such a combination, why should the comparatively small town of Scottsdale?

The error in thinking, however, is that Scottsdale, from its contemporary beginnings, was a town impatient to get started with its performing arts. If population charts and statistics proved that the then hamlet would have to wait for its theatre, well, those charts and statistics would have to be overlooked for the time being.

Boldly ignoring reality, a theatre that would continue to grow with a fast-mushrooming population was considered. Considered a necessity, that is.

Barely had Scottsdale incorporated, in 1951, with a scant population of 2,032 when a small group of theatrelovers met and decided on a course of action. As a result The Scottsdale Players came into existence.

At first there wasn't much to distinguish The Players from the countless community theatre associations that spanned the country. Their aims were the same, their hopes for an eventual theatre of their own no different from the hopes of other like organizations. Even the plays selected in those first years showed no overwhelming imagination that would lift them from the ranks of the commonplace. But it was a beginning. Despite a plethora of doubting Thomases murmuring, “The town's not big enough. The town's not ready. The town should wait,” The Players offered their first production, Life With Father at the inevitable location for all budding community theatres: the local high school auditorium.

Whatever the uncertainties, the initial step had been taken. Within a few months The Players moved quickly to consolidate their position. Typical of the type of people The Players had then and have managed to corral since was Attorney Robert E. Yount who dug into his own pocket and obtained The Players' charter as a nonprofit organization from the Arizona Corporation Commission.

During the next few years, The Players considered themselves nomads. For awhile they offered their productions in Sound Stage #1 at Cudia City, a location for the filming of western sagas, and until a few years ago home of a television series based on the exploits of the Arizona Rangers, "26 Men." The owner of the movie site was and is a colorful character named S. P. B. Cudia. In those early years, he probably gave The Players as much heart as anyone. A long-time showman in both the United States and Europe, he came to Phoenix in 1939 and located on the then nearly-deserted desert not far from Scottsdale. He planned to make some 24 films there and actually completed Phantom Pinto, Buzzie Rides the Range, Let Freedom Reign and Trail City before World War II put a stop to his production plans.

Surely, The Players have some benevolent fate with them, for when things seemed the darkest, an old carriage house on the Scottsdale Community Center grounds was given them with the provision that they fix it up according to their needs.

The "old carriage house" consisted of three walls and something loosely referred to as "the roof." Slowly, The Players set to work. On weekends and evenings a community effort poured a concrete floor, built a dressing room, costume room, storage space; put in a light when The Players were desperately low on cash, he offered one of his sound stages, with equipment, free of charge, and absolutely "no strings attached."

"Many of the great actors," he told The Players, "whom I have known started in small town theatres just as yours. Anything, yes, anything within my power that I can do to help foster the movement you can be assured I will gladly do. All my facilities are at your disposal. If my modest talent and experience can be of help to you in any way I will always be here to call on."

S. P. B. Cudia was, in show biz jargon, "an angel."

Gramercy Ghost and Three Men On a Horse haunted and trod the boards at Cudia City, but when TV filming began to increase considerably at the sound stage, The Players found themselves entrenched right back where they had starred-the high school auditorium.

This time The Players began to select works that would prove their mettle as an acting company. "Civic pride" and "Supporting the effort," met vis-à-vis with a work of considerable merit. Maxwell Anderson's Joan of Lorraine. This play demonstrated that The Players could take themselves quite seriously where dramatic art was concerned. But if Joan of Lorraine indicated a talent not fully explored by The Players it also markedboard, installed a lighting system and contributed furniture, costumes and props. When remodelling was completed, at least for a spell, "old carriage house" was rechristened the Stagebrush Theatre. The fact that a door in the rear of a set often opened straight onto the parking lot was passed off as a "novel approach," necessity being the mother of invention.

Play reviewers to this day find themselves at a loss to describe this "old carriage house," a designation that implies a certain amount of aristocratic neglect, if not charm. Terms like "atmospheric," "ramshackle," "funny," "homespun," "barnlike," have all been called into service. Quoting from one review, whose author had visited the Stagebrush for the first time: "The intimacy of the house also contributes a great deal to the fun. A tiny shacklike structure that holds less than 100, the Stagebrush offers last-row seats that are closer to the stage than orchestra seats in many theatres. The orchestra seat holders can prop their feet on the low stage." This last observation, describing a condition which delights members of the audience, is greeted by cast members with a fair amount of understandable chagrin.

Today, Stagebrush, while still "ramshackle," "tiny," "funny," and "homespun" can sit 150. The more-thanadequate stage is a far cry from those impossible carly "carriage house" days, arid settings are often astonishingly good considering the rather confining quarters. If there is something The Players can pride themselves on, it's surmounting the obstacles.

Rather than rushing ahead with a program of fulllength works, The Players concentrated on "Workshop" meetings, sessions that continue even today. The "Workshop" is one of the branches of the Stagebrush Theatre that enables it to call itself a community theatre with honest conviction. Once a month a program is offered that usually includes a speaker, casting of a one-act play, presentation of a playlet and a discussion period that considers the production, pro and con. With its Workshop, Stagebrush gives an opportunity for potential directors to try their hand before moving on to a major work. The same opportunities for experimentation are given to latent actors, who might hesitate to "jump in" all at once and would prefer to build up some experience.

The Workshop gives ample chance for a performer, director or playwright to fail, a common occurrence in these sessions. This open permissiveness causes some members of other community theatres frequently to raise a dubious if not outraged eyebrow of incredulousness.

One of the strengths of Stagebrush Theatre lies in the fact it is not restricted in its scope. The Players' bill of fare falls into no pattern, no regimentation, no routine. Arizona boasts countless community theatres that present a "particular type of season." The Phoenix Little Theatre, for example, concentrates substantially on Broadway works of proven commercial value, while a group like the Arizona Repertory Theatre, also based in Phoenix, prefers works that, although they may have dubious value on the commercial market, rarely are in doubt as to literary worth. The Players draw no such lines, nor, for that matter, does their operatic counterpart, the Scottsdale Chamber Oper Company.

In any given season you are likely to see a monumental work such as Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman, followed by "An Old-Fashioned Meller-drammer," complete with rinky-tink piano, dastardly villain and saccharine heroine. Á light comedy, The Reluctant Debutante, is likely to find itself following Sean O'Casey's Juno and the Paycock. An original mystery-thriller shares the month with three one-act plays by Tennessee Williams.

The Players delight in firsts. In addition to the countless original works they continue to offer for Central Arizona, they were the first to offer Salesman, after other groups feared the undertaking. The first to present the work of O'Casey, Ionesco, Gressicker, and the Capek brothers, the first to take a gamble on something like Gordon Jenkins' never-performed musical, Seven Dreams.

The Players often stumble, but they never hesitate to place a bet in the gamble of theatre, even on a long shot.

Perhaps it is this refusal to be limited that enables The Players and the Scottsdale Chamber Opera to bustle with a creative activity that would have gladdened the heart of the late Robert Benchley, who took a very dim view of community theatres, indeed: "How come they're always doing the same play?"

Classics, comedies, tragedies, rarely performed plays, musicals, new works, children's plays, mysteries, melodramas and dramatic readings are all given bunk space at Stagebrush.

"That's what I like best about The Players-you never know what to expect. There's always something new, something different going on in that place."

This shunning of the mundane might account for the exceptionally high percentage of excellent critical notices Stagebrush has received. But if The Players pay little attention to the "cultural" aspects of their operation in relation to the community, usually being too occupied "doing" rather than "talking," they have a fine civic awareness that frequently, in their eyes, is more farsighted than the city fathers who recently built a municipal swimming pool so close to the popular playhouse that it had to relocate its entrances or ask its audiences to swim in.

In fact, over the years, The Players have waged something of a continual battle with the town's sundry administrators to insure their continuance; one staunch supporter of Stagebrush wrote to a local paper: "It is generally conceded by critics and theatre buffs that The Players consistently produce drama at least the equal of any theatre in the Valley with the possible exception of the Sombrero (Arizona's lone professional playhouse). And all this for one buck admission! These plays have been produced under terrific handicaps such as scorpions on stage, makeshift stage facilities, leaky roof with resultant wet costumes and props, $50 production budgets.

"In spite of this a handful of dedicated people have been bringing good theatre to Scottsdale and spreading its fame. The land our theatre sits on belongs to the city. We could be thrown off tomorrow. During the time the property was owned by the Coordinating Council, we were the only member that ever contributed one dime to the upkeep of the area, and we were overjoyed when the city acquired the land. We felt that, at last, we might have a spot of our own on which to build a theatre. Twice we negotiated with city managers only to have them fired immediately afterward. In fact, we've begun to think that we are the kiss of death on managers."

Even to this day, The Players, unlike most community theatres, are merely "guests" on the Center grounds. But their desire for Lebensraum is one shared by the people of Scottsdale and there is considerable positive discussion and proposal for a land grant among the town's citizenry, who desire The Players to be fully secure and inde-pendent.

The Players delight in presenting western dramas, which emphasize that in Scottsdale's Shibboleth "The West's Most Western Town" there is, as least, a brand of theatrical entertainment for substantiation.

Works like The Calaboose Tree and Gentleman Jane, segments of western lore by Hollywood writer Vic Panek, premiered at Stagebrush, and each year an original melodrama, usually the work of Scottsdale's Charlotte Francis, is performed in commemoration of the days when the West saw its "drammer" behind kerosene or candle footlights, usually in one of many local saloons.

For any number of years, The Players took their original "meller-drammers" to the ghost town of Jerome to help celebrate that legendary enclave's "Spook Night," an occasion when former residents returned to renew old acquaintances. The performances usually played on a continuous basis all day and night, a circumstance that delighted Jeromeans while putting The Players' stamina to the test.

The Players, in an era that finds critics seriously worried over the lack of theatres, professional or community, in which new playwrights can test their efforts, have cause for pride. Stagebrush Theatre has produced, since its beginning, more original plays than all other community theatres in Arizona combined.

They show their interest in this facet of theatre by paying the writers for their material, a circumstance that is by no means universal with community theatres.

There is a feeling, not without justification, that a new work by an Arizonan that possesses merit, stands a much better chance of being presented by The Players than a Broadway hit.

When they began, a run of two or three performances was standard. A few years ago this was extended to five and six. Now a play with a run of ten performances causes no surprise. If that play is an original, as is often the case, it's all one and the same to The Players; all part of the theatrical game they play.

The list of originals is lengthy and some plays like Widow's Walk and The Burning Man, which had their first performances in the "old carriage house" are now published and ready for production in other playhouses throughout the United States, England and Canada.

Yet, for all its contributions to Scottsdale along theatrical lines, The Players boast a thriving and pleasing social side. During the summer months, a barbecue outside the theatre often precedes a performance. Members of The Players engage in any number of extra-theatre activities: fund raising luncheons; swim parties, dances-just about anything that provides enjoyment. Anyone is welcomed to become part of the fun. The Players pride themselves in being a free and easy organization. While they aim to give their audiences the best show possible, they are likely to enjoy themselves too. More than once in any given season, they are likely to put on a play that appeals to them tremendously, even though they realize much of the audience might not share their enthusiasm. This viewpoint is much the same as one held by the old University Players, a troupe that spawned Henry Fonda, Norris Houghton, Joshua Logan, Mildred Natwick, Margaret Sullivan and Bretaigne Windust. The University Players had their "shack-like" structure on the sand dunes of

Cape Cod and with ease and assurance followed the path “One for the audience and one for us.” The Scottsdale Players see this as a perfectly acceptable way to run Stagebrush.

The town's magazine-newspaper, The Arizonian, printed not too long ago this suggestion for anyone newly arrived in Scottsdale: “Suppose you were new in our community. Suppose you were looking for lively, interesting people to be with-people who do worthwhile things with enthusiasm, and have fun in the doing. Our recommendation? We wouldn't hesitate; we would urge you to become acquainted with The Scottsdale Players. There are no words to describe the intangibles-the warmth, the fellowship, fun and spirit that we derive from striving for a goal as a group,’ they say of them-selves-and hasten to invite the rest to come join them.” The Players have earned a reputation for quiet sincerity. The airs, pretenses, and nonsense are left to others. A leading director of the Arizona Repertory Theatre, Bob Aden, expressed it this way: “I think what I admire most about the Scottsdale Players is the absence of pretentiousness. They are truly a community theatre composed of amateurs in the original sense of the word. They are also very much aware of their limitations; work, and play hard at whatever they do, attempting to improve the quality of production, and rarely delude themselves with stuffy phrases about cultural contributions.” There is a strong tie-in between The Players and the Scottsdale Chamber Opera Theatre, an ensemble founded with the intent of supplying intimate, small-scaled operatic works in English to the town. The rise of Chamber Opera parallels The Players. Philosophically, socially and practically they offer a like past history, are aided by similar supporting components (Stagebelles for The Players; Chamber Mates for Chamber Opera) and are unwilling to allow the vital creative forces in the town to go untapped.

Founder and producer of the Scottsdale Chamber Opera Theatre (SCOT) is a tireless, individual, Joe Esile. When he first came to “The West's Most Western Town,” he devoted considerable time to staging one-act operas at Stagebrush, but his desire to expand his activities and to devote an entire season solely to operatic works led to the founding of what is Arizona's sole continually producing opera company. Like the early days of The Players, SCOT began, and still is functioning, from the auditorium of the local high school. But SCOT, too, has every intention of reaching out and building a new theatre, one flexible enough to encompass the wide, wide range of musicana from full-scaled opera to ballet.

Now in its fourth season, SCOT, too, overlooked the woeful comments of the doubters, who unequivocally announced that Scottsdale would never take to opera, whether it be sung in English or Italian, and that the Company had as much chance at success as a "barefoot dude in a cactus patch."

Though many individuals felt they personally could wait for a more opportune time, the town apparently couldn't and Chamber Opera opened in October, 1959, seven years after the founding of The Players.

SCOT's opening night is one not easily dismissed; in fact, members of the company express a certain fondness for what befell them when the curtain rose. A furious thunderstorm broke and the singers found themselves not only struggling against a deafening deluge, but before the evening was ended the storm succeeded in blowing out the lights.

The three operas that comprised the initial bill are often revived by SCOT, perhaps, as some imagine, "for sentimental reasons." Offenbach was represented by R.S.V.P., Floyd by Slow Dusk, Kleinsing by archy and mehitabel.

SCOT took to the town's theatre way with alacrity, shunning the overblown, the ostentatious and the false. Today, the company works hard to perfect, has managed to recruit some of the best singing voices in the state and is perfectly delighted to throw open its doors to the unconventional work, freely expressing a fondness for new and untried operas.

"Quite a wonderful thing," noted the Arizonian after the opening, "happened in Scottsdale Chamber Opera was born in our valley here are quality, maturity and entertainment of a cultural sort some of the valley's most talented artists are involved in the Chamber Opera, whose talents, ambitions and determination are fortunately with the best. . ."

To match The Players list of playwrights, SCOT came forth with noteworthy composers: Bernstein, WolfFerrari, Menotti.

Producer Esile found himself in a quandary after his second season. "Chamber Opera," in the words of SCOT's past president Rob R. McCampbell, "is a medium more versatile than straight dramatic theatricals, for it can encompass comedy, drama, the presentation of new ideas, the promulgation of old ones, and adds the charm of music and technical skill-all presented in the intimate drawing room atmosphere for which the medium was originally designed long before Mozart's time."

This idea intrigued a dedicated, but small following. The ledgers began to point out a mounting deficit. Rather than cancel out the original idea, but not willing to go broke, SCOT compromised by deciding to produce musical comedies as well, a form of entertainment that was strictly in the domain of neighboring Phoenix. A western motif work, Lerner and Loewe's Paint Your Wagon was presented. It proved a natural for "The West's Most Western Town." Strangely enough, this work which belongs in Arizona as much as any other western state had never been performed locally. The reception was jubilant and found critics urging a longer run. By the time SCOT's next musical, also a western, Harold Rome'sDestry Rides Again rode in as part of the town's annual rodeo, Parada del Sol, it was clearly evident that SCOT had assembled one of the finest theatre orchestras in Arizona, along with expert choreographers and designers.

Wrote one reviewer, after praising SCOT's ability to muster considerable style for their musical, ". After all, who could ask more from a group whose prime concern is opera and who must hit the tamborine circuit only to stock its chamber's dwindling treasury?"

SCOT's programming continues along divided lines, still offering its Chamber Opera, still entitled to recognition as Arizona's lone operatic company which offers a regular season. In Esile's vision, SCOT will eventually be many things: a place to train promising singers, a trial spot for new operas in English, an Arizona showplace for the world of musical theatre.

If the idea causes some to wonder, it might be well to remember that in the space of a few years, SCOT has completely unwilling to play a second fiddle.

While both openly embrace the imaginative and the unsure, they are nevertheless solid in their business dealings; both are completely self-supporting, both have proven their capabilities and their worth. The attention they are receiving for a town of slightly over 30,000 in population is considered in many quarters nothing short of remarkable. For funds, physical equipment, and longestablished names they have substituted resourcefulness, originality and experience. The expedients have served them admirably.

But the most gratifying aspect to both SCOT and The Players is that they, in true western fashion, stuck to their guns when the going got tough and proved their point. Scottsdale had talent in abundance; it couldn't wait for the "appropriate time" to put it to use.

If you ask anyone interested in Scottsdale what the town would be like without SCOT or The Players, the answer, most likely, would be--"Unthinkable."

It amassed a substantial corps of talented performers and its audience is growing with each production.

What amazes many veteran theatre-goers regarding The Players and SCOT is the fact that neither group, from their beginnings, would conform to the pattern set by the countless theatrical groups in neighboring Phoenix. The feeling was, in years past, that Scottsdale would depend upon the State's capital city for its theatre and what little opera it offered, which was negligible. But the creative and artistic forces within the town were Their new theatres will be constructed within a very few years. They have to be because both these theatrical enterprises are determined they will be. When this occurs the theatrical force of "The Town That Couldn't Wait" is bound to make itself felt on the national scene with significance not only for the town but, in the bargain, the state of Arizona as well.

"Creativity," Molnar once remarked, "can never wait. It is the most impatient of artistic virtues." Scottsdale couldn't agree more.

ROAD Yours sincerely

I am a road. I seek all places And shoulder the load Of many million faces. I am of earth and stoneUnlike those who hurry by, I linger on they pass and die. When I was very small I learned that men must roam; So be it. After all, I will lead them home. -M. ROSSER LUNSFORD DESERT SUNSET The desert sky, at dusk will be, A painting of serenity. A calm, refreshing, scene to view Of rose and red and purple hue That thrills with its immensity. -JAMES E. ROACH TRIP THROUGH ARIZONA Begin at Eden-that's the place to start; Then Love and Valentine to warm your heart. Contention may be found along the way, But Hayden has sweet music you can play At Tuba City with the local band. A bath at Hot Springs would be simply grand. The holidays at Christmas we will spend, And Tombstone is, of course, the place to end. -GEORGE L. KRESS MY TREE My Palo Verde tree is smallAn humble, merely inches tall; But ev'ryday my heart will see This plant as having grown to be A lacy leafed and stout branched form, With strength to meet the test of stormAnd this, someday, my eyes will see For dreams work magic on a growing tree. -RACHEL HARTNETT DUSK COINS The jaunty spendthrift night Tosses thin star-dimes high, Then rolls his last moon-bright Dollar across the sky. -LEE RICHARD HAYMAN ON THE EDGE OF THE COPPER PIT The shovel-gnats gnaw at the open wound, And the drill-bugs bore, And lay their eggs of explosives where The earth bleeds ore. The truck-flies swarm the clock around; The worm-trains crawl; And I'm but a breath on the steps of heavenIf I'm at all! -PAULINE HENSON SEEKER FOR INDIAN ARTIFACTS So ardently he spades the earth to learn The skills and way of life of early man; In every Indian mound he seeks to scan Its artifacts long lost in campfire burn: As if from written word he can discern In broken bowl or arrow point the span Of time and place, and ascertain the turn In culture level, through the artisan. Unlike the men who came to wrest domain From natives they deemed savages, he chokes In blowing dust of ancient village site And dwellings of the dead; he would make plain The dignity of noble alien folks While time remains to set an old wrong right. -ETHEL ERFORD HEWITT BOOT HILL BURIALTHE PREACHER Here he often came with us, Walking on ahead, Reading from the well-worn book, Shepherding our dead. Who will come with us today, Walking on ahead? Will there be a rod and staff As he always said? -GEORGE L. KRESS

GRAND CANYON: THEY CAME AND WERE CONQUERED:

Thank you again for your kindness in sending me last November issue of ARIZONA HIGHWAYS. After our wonderful holiday in your beautiful country, the pictures and films in your magazine now mean far more to us than before. In this issue your film showing the Ski Lodge at Arizona Snow Bowl near Flagstaff took us right back to you. Only five weeks ago we were right there at the lodge with new friends-made through ARIZONA HIGHWAYS Dr. and Mrs. Torgerson of Flagstaff who took us there to film the lovely yellow aspen. In the few days we stayed with them they also took us to Oak Creek Canyon, Walnut Canyon, Sun Beset Crater and many more beautiful places near and around Flagstaff.We spent four wonderful days at the Grand Canyon, hiking down the Bright Angel Trail to the Indian Gardens and Supreme Point, walking over ten miles in one day. We were very stiff and tired but very happy and satisfied with the marvelous sights we saw and the dozens of films we took. The Grand Canyon lived up to its name and was truly magnificent. We were not disappointed.

We will never be able to thank you enough for making this holiday even more exciting and happy than it would have been had you not published my letter in your August issue. We have made wonderfully kind and generous friends such as Mr. and Mrs. Leask of Waterford, California, who although very busy on their ranch took time off to take us to their cabin in Yosemite Park.

We will never forget the beautiful scenes there or how humble we felt when we stood beneath the giant redwoods.

In all we travelled nearly 5,000 miles by car and train, took 360 colored films and have many precious memories.

We will never, never forget our last moments in your wonderful country, all our friends in Los Angeles furiously waving goodbye as our plane taxied away, and as we looked back when our plane took off, we saw the undescribable sight of Los Angeles' lights, slowly growing fainter both my husband and I felt like joining in the tears that our young son was already shedding.

What are we doing now? Why saving all over again to visit all our new friends made through ARIZONA HIGHWAYS.

Mrs. Else Harris "Betsworth" 210 Wexham Rd., Slough, Bucks, England to America a joyous success, as this letter so eloquently describes.

IN ALASKA:

I believe I enjoy reading ARIZONA HIGHWAYS better than any other magazine. Your articles are always interesting and the pictures-there just isn't a word that describes them adequately. Your July issue was one I am particularly interested in.

Probably one of the greatest reasons I took notice of this issue is that it tells so well how the Apaches are solving their problems. I am a member of a volunteer group called the Alaska Native Rights Association that has recently organized to try to help the Indians, Eskimos and Aleuts of our state. Most of them are much the same as the Apaches were fifty years ago and they need help badly.

As soon as I read the July issue, I thought, "wouldn't it be wonderful if our people could read this story for inspiration in working out their problems." That is why I have written you.

As I said, we are a volunteer group and consequently have very little finances. I am wondering if it would be possible to get a rate on at least fifty copies that we could distribute to the Chief or chairman of the council in as many villages. Although this would not begin to go around, it would be a start. With some villages perhaps getting ideas from the article, it could spread to the rest.

Recently we helped to get the Chiefs together from about twenty-five villages as a start. All expressed a desire to develop various resources as a means of livelihood. They are anxious and willing to do so but lack any idea of how to go about it. That is one place we are trying to help.

Sandy Jensen Alaska Native Rights Association Fairbanks, Alaska

GETTING AROUND:

Here's something I thought might interest you.

In walking into the reception room of the Glens Falls Insurance Company, at Glens Falls, New York, last summer, right there on top of the heap of magazines in the reception room-and big as life-was ARIZONA HIGHWAYS!

And-when I entered the summer cabin on the shore of Little Sebago Lake up in Maine (with friends of mine from Portland, Maine), right there on the table was the little old ARIZONA HIGHWAYS! (And I don't know WHERE they got it!) Sure was heart-warming-those two incidents.

Carl E. Strattman San Diego 16, California

OPPOSITE PAGE

"SPRING IN JOSHUALAND" BY JOSEF MUENCH. Photograph taken north of Kingman in Mohave County on the road to Pierce's Ferry on Lake Mead shows the Joshua trees in spring dress with a carpet of goldpoppy (Eschscholitzia mexicana) spread below them.

BACK COVER

"AGAVE IN BLOOM" BY JERRY D. JACKA. Photograph taken east of Prescott, just off the Black Canyon Highway. Agave Parryi, commonly called the century-plant, grows from 4,500 to 8,000 feet in elevation and is a real show piece when it puts on its gorgeous blooms.