BY: Carol Osman Brown

BARBED

Many historians claim it was barbed wire, not the six-gun, that really tamed the Old West. Yet ever since its invention it has had an affinity for causing unpleasant entanglements.

Inventors became embroiled in years of heated litigation which nearly wrecked the federal patent system; bloody range wars flared throughout the West as it became the epitome of conflict between the homesteader and big cattle company; designed for protection, it became a military weapon, and for decades it has been a source of grief to young boys and seamstress mothers.

However, due to its availability, an improved grade of livestock was made possible. That, in turn, brought improved pastures and cross fencing which created the advent of crop rotation and modernized production methods. All in all, it laid the basic framework for the best fed nation in the world.

The history of barbed wire is perhaps its most intriguing quality, for behind each prickly type of wire are echoes of a story deeply entwined with the pioneer spirit of the Old West. Peculiarly American, it was born of a need to conquer the sweep of the Great Plains, and divide the area for farming and ranching. While the coming of barbed wire was, in effect, as momentous as the building of this nation's railroads and the stretching of telegraph wire, it is a chapter rarely revealed by the chronicles of Americana. Thus its story must be pieced together.

Although a crude fence armed with pieces of pointed iron was patented in France during 1860, the modern concept of barbed wire had its clouded beginnings on the American prairies. With typical pioneer ingenuity various inventors ran a close race developing a practical solution to fencing needs. The result of this was an entanglement of conflicting patents and simultaneous inventions.

WIRE the fence that tamed the west

Stuff generally try to avoid it . . . unless they happen to be "Barb-arians."

A silent sentinel

stretching across endless Arizona acres, barbed wire stands as a sharp link with the West's rough-hewn past. Though countless barbed-wire fences criss-cross the state in the shadow of stream-lined highways, most travelers fail to even notice them. Those whose paths are crossed by the prickly This term is fondly applied to an ever-growing number of hobbyists who collect barbed wire, or "bob wire," as it was originally called. This is any wire having sharp barbs or points of metal twisted into strands at regular intervals. Although much of the modern wire appears similar, there have been more than 600 types of barbed wire designed. An expert can read the story of the West from an extensive collection much as a geologist reads the history of the earth from its rocks.

Experts agree, however, that the initial chapter of the "bob wire" story is rooted in the interest three men shared in a curious sample of armored fencing displayed at an 1873 county fair in De Kalb, Illinois. These men: Jacob Haish, a lumberman; Isaac Ellwood, a merchant; and Joseph Glidden, a farmer, added their own ideas to this concept, acquired patents on dif-ferent types of wire fencing, and brought a new industry to life.

Farmers

Farmers were the original fence builders of the world, and their fences were designed to keep animals and trespassers out. The very word "fence" is taken from the word "defense" which implies protection from an outside enemy. However, after it came into general use, barbed wire was used primarily to keep animals in! This controversial turn-about in the very concept of enclosure brought about some violent social and economic consequences in Arizona and other parts of the early West.

Prior to this time land in the East and Midwest had been fenced with the by-products of agriculture such as rocks and trees. But the West had a scarcity of these items and many of the old methods of pioneering broke down. A new type of fencing was badly needed and questions relating to the problem occupied more space in public printed matter of the plains and prairie states than did any other issue, including political, military and economic matters.

Galvanized wire had been used for 20 years prior to the appearance of barbed wire, but farmers and herders were not happy with it. Fences of plain, single wire were susceptible to temperature changes. They snapped in the cold, sagged in the heat and didn't succeed much in halting cattle.

The revolutionary armored fence display at the 1873 De Kalb County Fair was the product of Henry M. Rose, a farmer. The sample, a wooden rail equipped with short wire points, was designed to be fastened to an existing fence of smooth wire, board or ordinary rails. Revealed at the right time and place in history, it gained fame as the device which triggered the action of three men who became the major inventors of practical barbed-wire fencing.

According to "The Wire that Fenced the West," by Henry D. and Frances T. McCallum, Glidden was the first to "barb" smooth wire. With the help of his wife, Lucinda, he used a coffee mill to crimp the barbs and then put them on the wire. Discovering that the barbs slipped on the wire, he used parts from a grindstone to improvise a twisting machine which he used to entwine a second strand of wire to the one with the barbs. This was aptly named "The Winner" and was patented in 1874. In his first year, Glidden manufactured 10,000 pounds of wire, which sold for $20 per 100 lb. roll.

Meanwhile, Isaac Ellwood had also busied himself with thorny wire experiments. Upon viewing Glidden's product, he realized its superiority and suggested they form a business partnership.

They later joined forces with Charles Washburn of Washburn & Moen Co., a leading wire-manufacturing firm.

This thorny problem caused such a turmoil that it nearly devastated the federal patent system. In 1881 some Iowa farmers formed a Farmers' Protection Association to produce their own wire in defiance of a virtual barbed wire price and patent monopoly. The state legislature appropriated $5,000 to the fight and requested the U. S. Government to bring suit against the trust and set aside all of its patents. So much agita-tion was aroused that inventors throughout the nation organized an association to look after their interests. Great names such as Thomas A. Edison can be found on the rolls of those who joined the fight.

Before

Before barbed wire settled into the pattern we know today, there were literally hundreds of different types used. But the remarkable factor is that the type now in general use was the first one manufactured commercially. Glidden wire has been a commodity of exchange ever since the days Joe Glidden first made barbs for his neighbors. Only one other type of wire — "Baker Perfect" (designed by George Baker of Des Moines, Iowa) — ever came close to the long production, popularity, high sale and usage set by "The Winner."

Like any frontier boon, this one was dependent on highly unpredictable human emotions. Located on the frontier fringe, Texas became the proving ground for barbed wire. Due to a distrust of northern inventions, a fear of decreased lumber sales on the part of lumber and railroad people, and strong humani-tarian objections from cattlemen, a hostile atmosphere existed toward barbed wire and necessitated some real salesmanship.

Contacted by Glidden, Henry Sanborn became the first wholesale barbed wire fenceman to take to the road. He was the first one to bring barbed wire to Texas, but history shows that it was John Gates, a real showman, who was the major promoter of the product.

In San Antonio, Texas, Gates erected a barbed-wire fence on the town plaza and told cowmen: "This is the finest fence in the world. It's light as air, stronger than whiskey and cheaper than dirt. It's all steel and miles long. The cattle ain't been born that can get through it. Bring on your steers, gentlemen!" Between 25-65 head of Texas Longhorn were enclosed and harassed till they tried all manner of escape, bur the wire held. That day was a turning point in barbed wire history and by nightfall Gates had sold hundreds of miles of Glidden wire at 18 cents per pound.

The boon had started and the frontier fairly exploded with ingenious "bob-wire" devices intent upon claiming a share of the wealth from the booming cattle trade. Emphasis shifted to simplification of manufacture, as well as stability and effectiveness of the barb itself.

But violent feelings still stirred since the Law of the Open Range (providing free grazing) was in direct conflict with the Herd Law under which cattlemen built barriers to confine their stock. Recognizing this pitfall, Glidden and Sanborn conducted a revolutionary experiment near Amarillo in the Texas Panhandle. A barbed-wire fence costing $39,000 was stretched 150 miles, enclosing 1600 head of cattle. This was the first enclosure of a large area of grazing land.

Following this example, John Farewell and his brother, owners of the XIT, largest ranch in the cow country of the Old West, were among the first to put into practice the theory that cattle-proof fences held advantages for western cattlemen as well as farmers. In the 1880's their Texas ranch boasted 1,500 miles of fencing, which was one of the largest barbed-wire fencing projects of the times. The opening of the West and the success of barbed wire depended on each other, but the road to success was as rugged as the country itself.

As the main transcontinental railways cut through Arizona in the 1870's, they brought great benefits to this state's cattlemen in the form of increased market outlets... and availability of barbed wire. Glidden's wire, successfully marketed in 1874, was put to use locally the following year, after its merits had been demonstrated on the Great Plains.

Since that time barbed wire has remained firmly entwined with the development of the Arizona cattle industry. Despite the fact that it cut a bloody gash across the face of the land in the form of vicious range wars in the iniddle 1880's, it has played a vital part in the success of this important industry.

According to "Arizona, The History of a Frontier State," by Rufus Kay Wyllys, there were three basic stages in the growth of Arizona's cattle industry. The first was the original open-range type of business typical of the extreme frontier. Without fences, it offered a multitude of hazards to both cattle and ranchers.

The second stage began when portions of open range were enclosed with barbed wire. By using this invention the wanderings of cattle could be controlled, and herd separated from herd, thus reducing costs of supervision.

In the third stage, barbed wire enclosed sections of range that were supplied with water pumps operated by mechanical windmills. This assured ranchers of better cattle management and meant that a better type of beef animal could be produced.

But this ultimate success was preceded by a period of disaster when ranchers in Arizona and other western states first began putting the wire to practical use. The herds of still-wild

Editor's Note: John Warne later known as "Bet-A-Million" Gates' venture promoting the sale of barbed wire in Texas was the cornerstone of the foundation for his great financial successes. For the barbed wire business his dramatic demonstration in San Antonio must be ranked as one of the most successful product-in-use promotions of all time. (Artist Joe Beeler's accompanying illustration is a vivid concept indeed!) ORIGINAL OIL PAINTINGS FOR FRONT COVER, PAGES 20-21, AND THE ILLUSTRATIONS FOR THIS FEATURE WERE DONE ESPECIALLY FOR ARIZONA HIGHWAYS BY JOE BRELER

The greatest woment in the romance of barbed wire

range cattle encountered painful fences they couldn't see; undis-covered open wounds attracted germs and an infestation of the dreaded screwworn spread through herds. In 1886 the "Big Die-Up" occurred when cattle caught in severe blizzards and drought died by the hundreds on ranges cluttered with drift fences which blocked paths of retreat. In addition, over-grazing took its toll and ultimately resulted in a reduction in the size of many large Arizona cattle ranches such as the famed Aztec Land and Cattle Company (better known for its brand, the hashknife) which ran more than 60,000 head on ranges between Holbrook and Flagstaff during the middle 1880's.

Alarm grew among cattlemen throughout the West. Resent-ment ran high and hundreds of fences were torn down. While ranchers argued its use, barbed wire manufacturers began replac-ing small, "vicious" barbs with larger, "obvious" types. About this time some ranchers began to realize that cattle fenced in could be watched, while those left to roam open ranges often died. Suddenly land ownership became desirable to Southwest cattlemen who shifted to the practice of land enclosure.

Drift fences came down and line fences went up. But sometimes the cattlemen didn't own the land they fenced. There was much landgrabbing and both sheepmen and the cattlemen with large herds but no land, who prospered under the Open Range law, suffered. Over-grazing and water problems forced them to keep herds on the move. Ranchers turned to the wire cutter and six-gun as the Southwest of the 1880's became a vast bloody battlefield in a series of violent range wars. The murder and mayhem exceeded anything else which had affected the range cattle industry, except Indian massacre.

In the early days of the Arizona Territory there was an East to West migration of sheep across the state as well as cattle. Cattlemen already plagued with over-grazing problems believed that sheep grazing spoiled the range. (The Federal Forestry Service has long since proved that this is not necessarily true.) Cattlemen thought they had first claim to the range since they inhabited it first. Since the law of the times did little to protect either, both sides did their best to defend what they considered to be their rights.

Perhaps earlier use of barbed wire might have averted one of the bloodiest Arizona range wars, the Graham-Tewksbury feud, commonly called the Pleasant Valley War. According to the "History of Arizona" by Edward H. Peplow, Jr., both ranchers had run cattle and then Tewksbury started raising sheep in the Tonto Basin area. Open range was used for both the sheep and cattle. The sheep were herded to the Mogollon Rim and White Mountain areas during the summer and kept in the Salt and Gila River valleys in the winter. The Grahams wanted to run their cattle on the same spots and the range war flared like many others of the era.

The center of Arizona's early cattle industry days was Yavapai County. Rufus Kay Wyllys reports "Yavapai County was covered with a carpet of grass so tall and thick that a man on foot couldn't be seen above it and a man on horseback might hardly show his head above it in many valleys." Peplow's research reveals that the first drift fence in Yavapai County appears to have been built near Sycamore Mesa in 1915 by Joe Stephens. But it was not until 1923 (nine years before the advent of Yavapai Cattle Growers' Association) that Charley Hooker became the first cattleman in the Prescott National Forest to fence off his range allotment.

History shows that due to all the squabbling, the Forest Service (a branch of the U. S. Dept. of Agriculture) sent rangers to make and administer rules for grazing of livestock on federal domain. In 1887 the federal government declared that each stockman must have a permit covering every animal run on public land. Approximately eight years later they were required to pay a fee for pastures located on national forest land. By 1932 most individual allotments were fenced.

The fury of cattlemen and sheep growers was finally abated by the discovery that the Forestry Bureau really advocated a practical system of land management. Both agreed that overgrazing was an unnecessary evil and they soon submitted to the mutually beneficial arrangement of paid-for use of public lands. As a result, Wyllys reports, Arizona's cattle numbered well over a million head by 1920. By 1950 the value of her cattle was estimated at $50,000,000. Regulated as to grazing rights on national forests and other public lands, sheep in this state numbered over a million in 1950 and were valued at over $6,000,000.(Texas, the state where barbed-wire fencing played the most havoc, was the only state which administered its own public land. Thus that state's 18th legislature made it a crime to cut a fence. The Texas fence-cutter's war ended in less than a year; today fence-cutting is still a felony in Texas.) Once the Forest Service, more by force of logic than law, succeeded in convincing ranchers the value of fencing, the Arizona range soon became a nightmare of line fences, drift fences, cross fences and pasture fences. In the last 20 years they have sliced much of Arizona into a thousand small land units, each set apart for a specific purpose of good land management. Today's cattlemen can regulate the exact number of animal-days a parcel of range is grazed in accordance with weather and other conditions. Barbed-wire fences further enable them to control the breeding of stock by segregating bulls, cows and heifers; they can accurately estimate the year's calf crop and can experiment effectively with cross breeding. In addition, they can keep close check on the condition of their animals and administer prompt medical attention to any sickness which develops. Thus today's cattle industry relies heavily on the aid of an extensive, effective and intelligent system of fencing.

Peplow's book reports that in Yavapai County alone there are some 230 ranches each averaging 75 miles of fencing. This means there are a total of 17,250 miles of four-strand barbed-wire fencing in this one county alone. In terms of materials, this represents an investment of over: $2,750,000 for wire, $5,500,000 for posts, $3,300,000 for stays and some $50,000 just for staples. (These figures don't include the costs of labor, transportation, tools and equipment for installation.) According to Peplow, this means there is enough barbed-wire fencing material in Yavapai County to run a two-wire fence around the earth at the equator. In addition, one could erect a four-wire fence around the entire state of Arizona and then fence off each county in the state with a four-wire fence!

History shows similar chapters of the "bob wire" story being written across the West in the waning years of the 19th century. Together, barbed-wire fences and railroads brought an end to the famed trail drives of the Old West. By 1880 barbed-wire fences criss-crossed the once open prairie, restricting these huge cattle drives. Even the railroads themselves were forced to turn to barbed wire to keep livestock from being killed by standing on tracks. Railroad companies bought rights-of-way and proceeded to protect their tracks with fencing. This appealed to ranchers who had been losing stock to locomotives, but it further hampered trail drives. Each state had to handle the problem in its own way. In 1887 Texas law demanded that all railroad fences have openings (gates) every one and one-half miles. These crossings were required to be at least thirty feet wide to enable herds to safely cross the tracks. But with the widespread acceptance of barbed-wire fencing, the day of range cattle virtually disappeared; homesteaders, sheepmen and cattle ranchers had learned how to live with each other peaceably.

Although it was the Great Plains which offered the initial challenge that led to the development of barbed wire, it is interesting to note that it was not until 1927 that the first wire mill in the area was opened. This was the vast Kansas City plant of the Sheffield wire mill. Sheffield added a second mill in Houston, Texas, during the 1940's. Mills such as these use high-speed machinery developed to spin the gleaming steel strands, fasten the barbs and reel the wire for market. The wire fence, which had its beginning with barbed wire and quickly moved on to woven wire as well, revolutionized American farms and ranches. Today the wire mills of the mid-west produce fencing to serve a vast segment of the nation's agricultural, industrial and military needs.

Barbed wire was first used extensively by U. S. military forces in World War I. Since then it has become firmly embedded in the tactics of conflict . . . an ironical continuation of its violent past. Oldtimers who once declared barbed wire too cruel for cattle would be aghast to know it is now used as entanglement for fellow humans. Military anti-intrusion wire has been used by our soldiers in World War II, the Korean conflict and is currently playing a major role in Vietnam. In World War II it was utilized in many countries for fortification, tank traps and in concentration camps. The most common type used today is concertina wire made of spring steel with four-point vicious barbs spaced 21/2" apart. It is generally seen in one, two or three rolls set parallel to each other or in a pyramid connected with baling wire; its primary use is as an effective barrier which can't be readily moved or crawled under. Most often two parallel rolls are topped by another and firmly anchored to the ground with stakes. It is said that a modern tank can't even break through this barrier. The majority of this is currently manufactured in Protection, Kansas.

The drawing by artist Fred Harman illustrates the poignant predicament of the bovine young who had not previously tangled with the barbed protagonist.

Arizona is inhabited by many "Barb-arians." Two of these who maintain extensive collections are Dave Munson of Cave Creek and Bill Powers of Scottsdale. Both are originally from the heart of barbed wire country and each started his hobby quite by accident. Powers began his collection some 12 years ago in a small Texas town where his father was a farm machinery dealer. "A farmer noticed some unusual types of wire on his property and brought them to the store where I displayed them for other farmers to see," he recalls. Soon other farmers began bringing Bill additional wire samples. Suddenly aware that a wide variety of barbed wire exists, he started collecting samples in earnest. Always keeping a close eye on the Texas fences in his travels, he hunted out old farms and ranches, did research in historical journals and even visited patent offices. He discovered that by 1900 there were more than 400 U. S. patents issued for different types of barbed-wire fencing. A representative for a major western boot manufacturing company (Justin Boot), his job enables him to travel to all parts of Arizona and pursue this unique hobby throughout the West.

Handsomely framed, his 18-inch-long barbed wire samples are mounted on miniature cedar fence posts against a burlap background. Beneath each is a label bearing its identification, inventor and patent date. Numbering close to a hundred, Powers' collection was acquired primarily from parts of Texas, Arizona, New Mexico and other western states. His oldest piece, "Thorney Fence," was patented Feb. 11, 1868 by Michael Kelly of New York, but he considers "Spur-Rowell" (patented in 1887 by C. A. Hodge, Beloit, Wis.) one of his most unusual samples. Some pieces such as "Ribbon Wire" and "Ribbon Horse Wire," have no barbs at all. "These were used around horses by the Cavalry and ranchers who didn't want to run the risk of hurting them with barbs," he explains.

Munson's hobby also had its beginnings in farm country. Some 15 years ago, while farming in Eastern Kansas, this retired teacher noticed some unusual types of wire in the fields which piqued his curiosity. He began picking up wire in his travels and upon moving to Arizona discovered some particularly good "hunting grounds."

It was not until two years ago that he realized the existence of other collectors and began trading different types of wire. His collection, which continues to grow daily, features close to 500 different types of barbed wire and accessories. Neatly mounted on strips of canvas, the wire pieces are adorned with everything from discs resembling spur rowels to wicked spikes and plain old carpet tacks. They've been clamped on, threaded, crimped out and twisted around the one-, twoand three-strand wire. His samples include wire that is round, square and flat; created from steel, iron, galvanized metal and even wood. "Every inventor had a different selling point. There was even one fellow who came out with copper barbs which were supposed to be of benefit to the rancher through the lightning rod theory," he reveals. According to Munson, more than 1,600 variations of barbed wire have been catalogued, with 401 specific patents on record in the United States. He says that economic reasons were primarily responsible for the great variety of wire. By a slight change of pattern, a man could establish his own manufacturing business. Actual use of these types was short-lived and many of the fences were simply experimental.

"That's part of what makes collecting this stuff so interesting," he comments, adding that less than ten percent of his wire is manufactured today. The basic Glidden patent still governs most modern wire, but people are still coming up with new designs. The steel strand wire most commonly used now has aluminum barbs which don't cut as severely.

He reports that a scant four or five large companies in Texas and the midwest produce this nation's wire. Sold by the rod, in 80-rod spools, the commodity is available in the standard 121/2 gauge size, the smaller 14 gauge and a lightweight 18 gauge variety. The barbs are mechanically wrapped around the wire at various intervals depending upon the type of fence. "Hog fence" has the barbs spaced two and one-half to three inches apart; cattle fencing has them spaced from five to seven — and sometimes up to twelve inches apart.

Munson and Powers both started their collections in an era when few people gave much thought to barbed wire itself. Yet within the past decade it has become a fast growing national hobby. Catalogues and books on the subject have appeared, collecting rules have been established and shows held. The American Association of Barbed Wire has promoted the hobby through barbed wire conventions. Lasting several days, these shows attract "swappers" from all parts of the country. Munson attended one in Kansas last Spring which was attended by over 3,000 people representing nine states. To date shows have been held in Ohio, Iowa, Texas, Kansas, Oklahoma, Nebraska, Colorado and Nevada.

Association regulations state that samples must be a standard 18-inch length to be eligible for show. This is so that each piece is assured of having at least two barbs for inspection. The majority of Munson's collection has been acquired by swapping, but some of the more rare types are acquiring real monetary value. Although most common wire averages $1 per cut, some of it has been auctioned off for $60 to $100 at these shows. Munson has a piece that came from Kansas and is now selling for $36, according to barbed wire catalogues. However, the most this expert has ever paid for a wire sample is $1.25. "I've been lucky," he grins.

The words BARBED WIRE on our title page and the examples of barbed wire art shown here, and lower pages 34-35, are the creations of Jack and J. J. Fowler, father and son artists in metal, of Whiteriver, Arizona. The wire used in the title, and phoenix bird (left) is 4 point military trench wire salvaged from the old Fort Apache army post dump, and is a historical fence wire used by troops of generals Crook and Miles in the 1800-1890 decade.

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GIFT ORDERS

The major design of barbed ware was stabilized in about ten years following its invention. This means that any wire found today which doesn't resemble the type currently in use, is probably more than 80 years old. As with any collector's item, the age of a sample and the amount of it in circulation influences its value. But the days of high-priced wire are quickly passing. The same American ingenuity which was responsible for the inven-tion of barbed wire has created reproduction wire. Designed strictly for collectors who are not willing to pay a high price for an original wire sample, this enables them to add a specific type to a collection at a nominal fee. There are even kits available which provide the wire and barbs for hobbyists to make their Carol Osman Brown is fast becoming one of Arizona's leading writers. A native of New York, she has claimed Phoenix as her home for the past 20 years. Her writing career had its beginning in a high school jour nalism class and was nourished at Arizona State University where she received a B.A. degree in Mass Communications. Due to an active roll on the collegiate newspaper, she was named own wire. But as in the days of the Old West, there are those willing to take advantage of anything in order to make a fast dollar. These shysters buy reproduction wire, coat it with salt and bury it in the ground. They dig it up a few months later and market it as antique wire. Munson says a good way to check authenticity is to see if the barbs are dulled with age and to cut through a sample and see if the metal is new.

Collectors disagree as to where one should look for wire. All have favorite spots, but Munson prefers to frequent the locations of new fences or roads. He generally finds that old fences are torn down in the path of progress, and has discovered tangled piles in nearby ditches or at a local dump. Of course, he always travels with gloves and sturdy wire cutters, hoping to discover some remnant of wire used by early Arizona ranchers, the Cavalry or miners. He also carries some good wire and if a rancher or farmer is gracious enough to let him cut a fence and take a wire sample from it, he is ready to repair it.Some barbed wire collectors use metal detectors and an Oklahoma couple scans miles of fencing by taking "helicopter hikes." Favorite Arizona hunting grounds include abandoned stage coach trails and way stations, ghost towns, historical ranches, and little used roads. One of Munson's best local finds was a piece of military ribbon wire once used to corral Cavalry horses at Fort McDowell. He discovered it buried under a pile of dirt near Camp Verde.

Many of the old historical barbed-wire fences have been torn down with the advent of new communities and the mod-ernization of highways. New generations of domesticated cattle have been conditioned to avoid fences and many have never felt the prick of a barb. Thus many of the new fences used on the ranges of the West have blunt barbs or no barbs at all. Some ranchers are even leaning toward use of electric fence wire which evolved from the thin Buffalo wire and carries an unpleasant shock rather than a wounding barb.

Once threatened with extinction due to the scarcity of old wire, barbed wire collecting is currently enjoying a surge in popularity. Originally carried across the West by wagon train and railroad, the wire is now sped across the nation by the U. S. mail as thousands of collectors swap samples. Thus a rusty piece of the West's colorful past can fence a distant range . . . or be as near as the local post office.

"Outstanding Woman Journalist at ASU" in 1962 by Arizona Press Women. While still a college student Mrs. Brown gained newspaper experience writing for The Arizona Republic, Phoenix Gazette and Prescott Evening Courier.

During the four years she served as staff writer for The Phoenix Gazette this petite journalist developed a talent for photography which broadened the scope of her career.Her professional background includes serving as woman's editor of Arizona Currents, and as a public relations account executive with two noted Arizona advertising and public relations agencies.

Mrs. Brown's articles have appeared in a number of national publications. Her writing and photography skills have gained recognition through a variety of both state and national awards, latest of which was recently bestowed by the National Federation of Press Women.

Listed in "Who's Who of American Women," 1968-69, she has been selected for inclusion in "Foremost Women in Communications," 1969-70.

Often working as a team with her writer/photographer husband, Bing Brown, this busy writer has covered a wide variety of newspaper and magazine assignments throughout the Southwest.

Mrs. Brown's current efforts are concentrated on freelance magazine features . . . and keeping pace with her 11/2-year-old son. . . . R.C.

PUZZLING

There must not be a level street In any city, or any town, In all this swiftly-spinning world; For every time my eyes doth greet Some printed news that is unfurled About what's happened to someone Who was a-walking on a street, That person was walking "up" or "down." - Peter Cartwright

WANTED

Though wanted by many I think He remains hidden. Hogan huts keep announcing His Bethlehem. The breeze sweeping canyons in the night follows His footsteps. His cross stays standing in every saguaro and His resurrection Eucharistic in its bloom.

I believe the lowly, the thirsty and the beauty seekers might see His face in time. - Eleanor O'Hearon

CRITERION

I don't agree with people who maintain That those who don't like dogs cannot be trusted, But I would be unable to refrain From doubts of someone being well-adjusted If he did not like apples. I could feel Scant confidence in one who didn't bite An apple's crispness gloatingly, or peel Its roundness with meticulous delight. How fortunate that nowhere beneath the sun Have I as yet encountered such a one! -Jane Merchant

STOREHOUSE

Ideas like furtive mice dart up and down the bulkhead of my mind hiding out of sight in shadowy corners. They nest in dark, subconscious crevices or scuttle stealthily on noiseless feet to nibble at the tasty crumbs of thought. - Jean Conder Soule

COLOR FOR SUSAN

Some color for Susan The Occasion: of her natal day, the anniversary. Nine hundred sixty-nine colorful kernels collected on a trilogy of corny cobs each in its mean manner manifesting a part of Nature's ever new narration of the annual pageant of the death of summer and the birth of autumn. Oh, mother-daughter of Libra, gratefully this token's sent for the accomplishment of your adding to the sum total autumnal color. Thanks. - Gene Platt

CONSERVATION:

I have before me a copy of ARIZONA HIGHWAYS of June 1967 on the Petrified Forest National Park, which some months ago my daughter sent to me from England.

As I am a member of the Canterbury Minerai and Lapidary Club in Christchurch, N. Zealand, I found pictures and the story of the petrified forest very interesting.

One photograph in particular on page 32 impressed me very much. It stated, I quote, "In 1966 60,250 lbs. of petrified wood were involved in theft attempts."

And so it goes on to state that if everyone took only one small chip for a souvenir, in one generation the wood that took 200 million years to form would be gone etc. etc.

We have here in New Zealand a small area of petrified wood, and in the North Island in the thermal region of Rotorua there are very interesting rock formations, which although protected suffer from sneaky souvenir hunters.

Part of your well written article I would like to submit to our club magazine to illustrate exactly what could happen to these protected areas if vandalism continues.

As you are well aware New Zealand is a very small country, so our protected regions are minute compared with, for example, your petri fied forest.

If readers can be made aware of what could happen to such a vast national heritage such as yours in one generation, they may perhaps be made to realize how quickly our own small areas could be devastated.

I am quite certain in the majority of cases vandalism is committed without intention, rockhounds souveniring a small piece which they are sure will not be missed.

As the snowball rolls so does its size increase!

Herbert E. Foote Christchurch, N. Zealand

YOURS SINCERELY BACK COUNTRY:

The lure of the back country is compelling for many of us and Arizona's back country is second to none in its beauty, diversity and fascination. Mr. Darwin Van Campen's commentary and photography (August issue) were a beautiful tribute to the often ignored and unappreciated portions of our state.

Stephen Windsor Conservation Chairman, Arizona State Association of 4 Wheel Drive Clubs Tucson, Arizona

R. BROWNELL MCGREW (continued): Let a fellow editor express his appreciation for what must be the finest magazine of its kind in the world. My joy in receiving "The Art of R. Brownell McGrew" (your July issue) is not translated into words because that is impossible! I can say a sincere thank you for making this artist's work available and I do.Dudley Condron, editor The Missionary Messenger Board of Missions, Cumberland Presbyterian Church Memphis, Tennessee

Risden Somers, Sr. Absecon, N.J.

Congratulations, again and again on your superb ARIZONA HIGHWAYS, July edition. The art of "Brownie" McGrew is perfect in detail. The life pictures of the Navajo are breathholding and his journal extract full of humor as well as facts.

This copy should be in every library in the U.S.A. Yes, abroad also! It is a classic to own.

Mrs. W. Virginia Starmer Van Buren, Ark.

OPPOSITE PAGE

"GRAZING CATTLE IN THE WHITE MOUNTAINS" BY DARWIN VAN CAMPEN. This photograph was taken in the White Mountains of Eastern Arizona along Arizona 273 near Crescent Lake. A beautiful day in July with slightly overcast sky! Here cattle are living it up on summer grass range. Around early October they will be moved to lower and warmer climes. 4 x 5 Linhof camera; Ektachrome; f.22 at 1/25 sec.; 210 Symmar lens; Weston meter reading 200; ASA rating 64.

BACK COVER

"FARM SCENE IN SOUTHERN UTAH" BY DAVID MUENCH. This photograph was taken just south of Blanding, Utah, at junction of Utah 95 and Utah 47, not a long drive north from where the Arizona-Utah state line passes through Monument Valley. In the background are the picturesque Abajo (Blue) Mountains. Juniper fence posts support a meandering barbed wire fence through a pleasant, green little valley. Linhof IV camera; Ektachrome E3; f.36 at 1/5 sec.; 15" Apo Ronar Rodenstock lens; mid-May, with a changing, moody sky; meter reading 14; ASA rating 64.