The Greenll Fair and Fair Greenlee

The GREENLEE FAIR And FAIR GREENLEE

It was like a day in rural America of fifty years ago, something Mark Twain might have invented. It was charming and restful and more than a little nostalgic. The Greenlee County Fairgrounds consists of an exhibit building not very big a couple of small buildings where poultry and rabbits are shown, some pens for livestock, one small structure that houses the office, a new steel grandstand which seats perhaps 600, a dirt racetrack, and enough stables to take care of a couple of hundred horses. Then there is an area, maybe a couple of acres at the most, on which are erected each year the rides and whirlygigs and hot dog, cotton candy, soda pop and popcorn stands.

It's only two days until the fair opens; but there is no tension or bustle. Oh, sure, there are maybe half a hundred people working and chatting as they get things ready. They're enjoying their chores. A little group of 4-H kids are grooming a sleek steer; the County Agricultural Extension Service agent stops a minute and compliments them on the fine animal and the good job they are doing. The Forest Service ranger is unloading some display boards from his truck.

Half a dozen ladies are arranging cakes and flowers and jars of preserves on display tables. A couple of men in blue denim western shirts, Levis and cowboy boots are figuring out the intricacies of the wiring system for lights, public address system and the air coolers. (It's October and apt to be hot.) Outside the office is the largest group of people, a dozen or so lean-hipped men in broad-brimmed hats and standard western gear. They are lounging on a couple of benches or squatting on their heels, their hats tipped back and webs of wrinkles around their eyes made by squinting in the sun and frequent smiling, attesting their outdoor occupations. They all are horsemen. About half are local cattlemen, the rest are owners of race horses who travel the circuit throughout the Southwest.

A clerk steps out of the office with some papers in his hand and addresses the group. "Anyone who's entered in the third Saturday willing to drop out and enter the seventh?"

Silence. The men inspect their fingernails, get the makin's out of their shirts and roll a smoke, or just sit and admire the sky. Finally one asks if that is the entry list for the seventh. The clerk hands it to him. He studies it quietly, hands it back, and says, "Guess you can take Old Sarge out of the third and put him in there if it'll help you."

Off to one side are five young men in their late seventies. All five were born in Greenlee County. Not as lean as they were a few years ago, all five know the desert and the mountains intimately, and any one of them today would be a good man to ride the river with, which is, in their own idiom, a high compliment to their stoutness, wisdom and loyalty.

They know the magnificence of the towering mountains of Greenlee County. They have seen the mountains in springtime, when the snows melt and every rivulet runs with sparkling water, when all the wildlife awakens anew and joins with the myriads of birds in a festival of the joy of being alive. The warming sun calls forth succulent new shoots of grasses, and wild flowers blaze into being where yesterday was only snow. The immense pines and firs and spruces reach for the azure sky, while white-trunked aspen dance on the slopes of hills, their tiny leaves twinking in the gentle breeze.

These oldtimers know the heat of the desert in summer, and they are grateful to a bountiful nature that their cattle can take refuge in mountain meadows during the hot months. But they are grateful, too, for the long, hot season in the valley, for there they can grow several crops of hay and grain for their livestock each year. They, or their friends, make good use of some 6,200 acres of irrigated land during the long growing season to produce some $2 million worth of agricultural prod-ucts each year. Of this the largest portion, about one and a quarter million dollars' worth, accrues from livestock and live-stock products. Cotton accounts for more than half a million, with dairy products, vegetables, fruits and nuts following.

Fall will usually find the oldtimers, after roundup, out in the hills hunting deer and elk. No matter how long they have lived in this country, they still thrill to the indescribable, golden beauty of groves of aspen sparkling like a million gilded spangles against the brilliantly blue sky. Probably they are successful in their hunt, for game is abundant, and the old timers know where the herds run. But even if they should fail to get their bag they count the time well spent. There is something especially soul refreshing about the warmth of autumn days and the bracing cold of the nights in the mountains. Nowhere in the world are the stars so bright and so close.

Winter snows come early in the high mountains, with the first storm expected about the middle of November. Oldtimers take a keen interest in the snow pack. Sometimes it is as little as six feet deep, but in good years it will accumulate to twenty feet. This is a principal source of recharge of reservoirs and for underground water tables. When from the valley the mountains show a heavy white for several months, oldtimers are happy. Their only concern is that spring rains don't come too early; if heavy rains come while the snowpack is still deep the runoff can bring floods such as plagued the area in the early days when mining first opened up the country.

Mention mining to anyone in Greenlee County, oldtimer or newcomer, and you'll find universal appreciation for the principal industry of the area. Current county records show that more than ninety-three percent of the State of Arizona taxes in Greenlee are paid by the Phelps Dodge Corporation. Last year the company paid more than $1,315,000 real proption of small farms into huge, integrated, highly mechanized units, Greenlee continues to be the home of small farmers.

Another is that the small businessman enjoys a tranquil existence and makes a reasonable living in the traditional easy-going western environment. There is always mañana. While mining's payroll is by far the largest in dollars and in numbers of employees, there are some 500 people who make their livings in retail trade, about 300 in education and more than 200 in agriculture. There is a distinct lack of the tense spirit of competition found in big cities. Everyone knows his neighbor and lends a hand whenever he can. The work gets done; the fair goes on; but there is always time to chat.

boys coaxing the dice to roll their way. Absorbed in their game under a huge old cottonwood, they scarcely notice the spectators. There's not much money in the pot, but they are as intense as if it were a million.

The horse owners and trainers are intense also. The annual meeting is closely supervised by the Arizona Racing Commission. Pari-mutuel wagering is conducted on both thoroughbred and quarter horse races. The meeting is a total of three days, Saturday and Sunday of the fair and the following Sunday. Scores of excellent horses are entered, and for a week or more prior to the fair the entrants drive in, towing horse trailers and house trailers to make the fairgrounds a busy place.

One impressive aspect of the fair is the emphasis placed upon the participation in the exhibits of school children. Greenlee has an excellent school system. Here again, the presence of the mine is largely responsible. Phelps Dodge pays school taxes in both Clifton School District No. 3 and Morenci School District No. 18 in the latter more than ninety-nine percent of the total!

In the entire county there are three high schools and four elementary schools. By far the largest is the Morenei Elementary, with an enrollment of about 1,600. Morenci. High's enrollment runs about 650, while Clifton Elementary's is about 725, Clifton High's about 275, Duncan Elementary's about 600 and Duncan High's about 225.

The remaining school is the Blue Elementary. It is located near Blue Post Office, up in the northeast part of the county in an isolated but magnificent mountain area on the Blue River. Children who get their early education there can grow up to tell tales rivaling those told of Abraham Lincoln as a child. Usually fewer than ten children attend the school.

Essentially rural as Greenlee is, it still does not lack social organizations. Just a cursory glance around the exhibit building at the fair shows the presence of women's clubs, garden clubs, homemakers clubs, sportsmen's organizations, Girl Scouts and Boy Scouts, 4-H clubs and councils, PTAs, cattlemen's organizations and so on. Elks, Rotary, Kiwanis, Lions, American Legion, Odd Fellows, Business and Professional Women, and the Masonic Lodge all are active in Greenlee also. In the three population centers there is a total of twenty-three churches.

As a member of the Board of Supervisors said during the tour of the fairgrounds, almost anyone can find a congenial group in Greenlee. He might have added that it doesn't take very long to feel at home, either. There are only about 12,000 people in the entire county, which makes it one of the less densely populated areas in the country. Greenlee has 1,199.360 acres, or about 100 acres for each person to wander around in. Perhaps that's why they all seem to get on so well together; nobody is crowding anybody else.

densely populated areas in the country. Greenlee has 1,199.360 acres, or about 100 acres for each person to wander around in. Perhaps that's why they all seem to get on so well together; nobody is crowding anybody else.

Genuine friendliness is a hallmark of Greenlee County. One reason is that more than sixty percent of its residents were born there, as compared with less than thirty-eight percent of Arizonans in general. Indeed, there are a good many people in Greenlee who remember when the county was formed in 1909 from part of Graham County. And here again, at the risk of being repetitious, it was the growth of the mines that occasioned the influx of population and the need for local government in an area that was then remote from the rest of the state. Its first elections were held in 1910.

One of Greenlee's greatest assets is the stability in public affairs that has resulted from the long residency of so many of its people. There are few counties in Arizona today that can match the Greenlee record: all three members of the Board of Supervisors, the treasurer, county attorney, recorder, superintendent of schools, sheriff, justice of the peace and clerk of the superior court in Clifton were born in Greenlee County. Just as at the fairgrounds, in the courthouse it is very evident these people have known each other a long time and know how to work well and happily together. Indeed, their fathers worked together before them. Leslie A. Billingsley, a member of the Board of Supervisors, is the son of B. F. Billingsley, a member of the first Greenlee Board; present Treasurer Kitty Potter is the daughter of J. H. T. Cosper, who served with B. F. on that first board; and Recorder Elizabeth Tea is the daughter of J. W. Aker, who was Greenlee's first school superintendent.Another effect of this long residency is that most people have a real knowledge of the county. Among half a dozen of the people putting the fair together this amounted to almost encyclopedic knowledge. One said the lowest point in the county is the 3.300-foot elevation on the Gila River where it leaves the county in the southwest corner. Another attested the highest point is Rose Peak, which reaches 8,878 feet. Someone pointed out that eighty percent of Greenlee County is federal land, ten percent state land, and less than six percent privately owned. Virtually all of the federal land lies within the Apache National Forest.

Rainfall varies widely, of course, with more precipitation expected in the mountains than in the valley. But it varies extremely also year to year. The lowest annual total recorded at Clifton was 4.85 inches, the highest 22.53. It averages, according to one member of the group, about twelve inches a year, more when people pray hard.

When the fair finally is put together, despite the interruptions of curious visitors, it does what too few fairs succeed in doing. It gives a true picture of Greenlee County. Its forests, its scenic attractions, its agriculture, its hunting and, fishing, its people and their communities, their hobbies and cultural interests all are represented. Nor is the fair so big and crowded and flamboyant that the visitor can't see the picture. It is frankly and proudly an old-fashioned county fair.

The only part of the county that is not clearly set forth is the role of mining. But then, the people of Greenlee will tell you, the mine itself is only a few miles up the road. No words or display can hope to convey even a small part of the immensity of that pit. Only a visit can do it justice.

Surprisingly, the people in Greenlee take their own advice. Unlike the city slicker who has never seen the battle monument until his country cousin came to town, the people from the outlying parts of Greenlee make opportunities to visit the mine as often as they can to mark its growth and the resulting changes in the landscape.

They note with a personal pride the expansion of the operation. They tell you it takes men, real men, to move mountains. And the phrase "to move mountains" to them is no mere metaphor. They point out that a new highway is being built to follow the San Francisco from the present southern end of the Coronado Trail to connect with U. S. 666 some thirty miles above Morenci. Not only will the new route be more scenic but it will allow the mine to grow in the directions the ore leads. And along its lower end the roadbed will be paralleled by the newly formed mountains of broken waste rock that has been dug out of the pit to uncover the copper ore which is so vital to the country's continued prosperity and military might.

While copper is far and away the principal bulwark of Greenlee's economy, and while the scenic attractions of the area are winning wider and wider renown, there are many who would aver that Greenlee's greatest charm is that it is one of the nation's few remaining truly rural communities.

Aside from the vast modernity of its copper operation, it is indeed like something out of rural America of half a century ago, something Mark Twain might have invented.