Prescott

(Background) On a summer night, the town square comes alive with dancers in colorful dress swinging to the warm sound of country music. Kathleen Norris Cook (Inset) Helen Reynolds' classical ballet class meets every Tuesday and Thursday evening in the ballroom of the St. Michael Hotel. For extra experience, her students participate in the many presentations of the town's Fine Arts Association. J. Peter Mortimer (Above) Amid great old trees, Prescott's courthouse on the square looks like it materialized right out of the 1890s. It is now a must-see place for nostalgia buffs. Buckey O'Neill, a long ago sheriff, local politician, and hero of the Spanish American War guards the pillored entrance. J. Peter Mortimer

As the legend goes, there's still a huge cache of gold hidden somewhere in the granite crevices near Prescott gold that recalls why this mile-high city of postcard beauty was born 116 years ago.

But for the people of Prescott, all the gold they need surrounds them daily in the antiquity of Territorial Arizona's first capital; in weather praised as perfect and salubrious; in a million-acre backdrop of national forest; in the joyous rallying cries of the 200 softball teams; in the hoopla of the world's oldest rodeo on the Fourth of July; in the grand beauty of the massive court-house decked out in thousands of colored lights as a Christmas present for all; in maintaining through the good times and the bad a town that is big city enough to attract new prosperity, but small hamlet enough to smile at a young Huck Finn proudly carrying home his single catch of the day.

Prescott (pronounce that Prescutt, friend) isn't bashful about its colorful history or its silver-lined future. Perhaps no place in Arizona inspires such strong feelings of being "at home" as does this visual heaven. The surroundings whisper the security and sanctuary that mark the essence of a small town. To find that sense of down-to-earth peace in a city that hosts one of the most prominent aeronautical universities in the country speaks as much of the lure of this spot as it does of the lucky people who call this home.

People live in Prescott because they want to, often admitting they could make more money working in Phoenix or Tucson, but shrugging that off for a life-style they praise as the best Ari-zona (and most of the rest of the coun-try, for that matter) has to offer. No freeway mars this hillside community, yet Phoenix is a leisurely 90 minutes away. No noxious industry spoils the wood-scented air, but clean industries are welcomed. Children can amble home after the Saturday night movies because crime is not a plague here. This is a first name town where public debate is common because people feel the gov-ernment means them. This is a town of less than 20,000 that supports 40 churches, 2 art associations, 5 art gal-leries, a symphony series, community concerts, an animal rodeo, and an an-nual western art show that attracts people from around the country.

It's the kind of town that made a community parade out of moving an historic Victorian house to save it from the wrecking ball. The kind of town that revere heroes like Buckey O'Neill in sculpture, allowing every downtown visitor to see the pride taken in this early-day sheriff, who died in the Span-ish American War. The kind of town where being director of the Chamber of Commerce means you'll drop every-thing to rescue a dangling pixie from a Christmas display; where the best-known preservationist will volunteer her Sunday afternoons to sell trinkets to tourists at the Sharlot Hall Museum; where everyone from bird-watchers to weight-watchers pitch in for the yearly street cleanup.

But Prescott also is a town concerned about its future; about preserving its past so the joys it has brought to so many generations can be enjoyed by those yet to come; a town that knows it will not stand still but doesn't want to run away from all that makes it a city with a living past.

The living past of Prescott is a story of tenacity, fortitude and plain ol' hardwork qualities many of its modern leaders still display. It was a town anxious to get underway in the summer of 1864, as prospectors flooded to the townsite on Granite Creek in search of shimmering gold. Lots went on sale June 4, and by the next day, building already was underway. The next month on July 13 the first legislature of the territory met in the town named for historian William Hickling Prescott.

Ft. Whipple, with its imposing Victorian structures on the north flank of the town, was first occupied on May 18, 1864, as a new military department called the District of Northern Arizona. In its earlier days “a ramshackle, tumble-down palisade of unbarked logs,” it nevertheless served as the center of social life for booming Prescott. From its beginning, the fort also provided protection from the Apache Indians, allowing the community to prosper and grow.

In its first year, Prescott got a newspaper, a school, and a sawmill. But the promising start suffered a setback in 1867, when by one vote the legislature decided to move the capital to Tucson, taking with it most of the territory's salaried officials. About the same time, the economy was further weakened by a decline in gold production. By 1875, however, immigration quickened as people heard of rich silver strikes in the Bradshaw Mountains south of town. The capital came back to Prescott in 1879, staying a decade until its permanent move to Phoenix. Then on July 14, 1900, a miner's candle started a fire that devastated the downtown business district, destroying $1.25 million in property. Even Whiskey Row went, although makeshift bars were set up on the Courthouse Plaza across the street to serve drinks all night, as the townsfolk battled the flames.

What we see as downtown Prescott today was rebuilt after that fire. Whiskey Row still is there, as are a variety of shops that surround Courthouse Plaza. This is the city's focal point, its major identity. The stately courthouse stands squarely in the middle of the elm-shaded plaza, with a gazebo and hundreds of benches to accommodate park sitters, picnickers, and perky children. This is not only the seat of Yavapai County, but the setting for regular square dances, round dances, jazz concerts, community sings, and general gatherings.

“People come here, see the plaza and say, ‘ohhhhh.’ It brings a lot of people back to Prescott,” says Elizabeth Ruffner, who arrived as a bride in 1940 and is considered one of the best known preservationists. “Cities without a core have a difficult time,” she reflects. “We're lucky in that we have such an identifiable core.” City Hall reporter Nolan Hester still mentions the plaza first when he explains why he left Seattle to work for the Prescott Courier. "The way I came here is probably typical," the 25 year old says. "I passed through on vacation, saw the plaza and liked it. I've been in every major town in the Southwest and Prescott is totally unique in having such a focus."

Major retail stores used to face the square, but lately they've moved to new shopping centers on the north side of the city. It worries some people that such movement could spell the demise of a landmark that is as identifiable to Prescott as Thumb Butte. "I don't think there's anyone who doesn't want to preserve downtown," says Mayor Jack Gillis, whose clothing store faces the plaza. "We want to enhance what we have and protect the square, but we haven't agreed on what method to use."

Determining a method has been difficult for this city that has a long tradition of stalwart individualism. As newspaper editor Bob Schuster notes, Prescott has no individual architectural style, but "a conglomeration of magnificent edifices mixed in with more modest efforts that were architectural lepers then and can only be described as ugly today." He forsees much more debate as the town tries to save its special flavor. "While there is much agreement that the town's flavor attracts tourists and gives the town a distinctive identity, there is little agreement over exactly what constitutes that flavor," he notes. But as Mrs. Ruffner points out, few towns in the state have the job or luxury of debating flavor; few towns have such a spotlight of interest and concern. Preservation be it the square or Victorian houses like you can't find anywhere else in Arizona has been a topic of discussion and debate in Prescott since its centennial in 1964. "The centennial really put people into the frame of mind for preservation," Mrs. Ruffner remembers. About that time, a committee of citizens suggested the corporate limits should be declared a historic district, but the idea wasn't popular, she says. She then helped found the Yavapai Heritage Foundation, which has identified 105 buildings of historic interest, an incredible legacy for a town less than 25 square miles in size. As Arizona prepared to celebrate the nation's 200th birthday, Mrs. Ruffner was a member of the state's bicentennial commission and received a prodding. "People in Phoenix warned me, 'you better get busy in Prescott'," she recalls. With a $25,000 Bicentennial grant, getting busy meant saving the Bashford House, an 1870s Victorian that was about to be demolished by a fast-food chain. The town made the tedious moving job into a parade, remembers Mary Baker, director of the Chamber. “It took about four hours to move it (a few blocks) and everybody came out to watch,” she says. The grand house now forms the cornerstone of the Sharlot Hall Museum in downtown, where visitors also can wander through the first governor's mansion (a log cabin built in 1864) that stands on its original site. Since then, the town has made several major steps toward saving its living past. There's a new sign ordinance to help prevent the cluttered look of most tourist towns; plans are underway for a special building code that respects the antique materials and construction techniques of the old buildings; individual structures have been declared special preservation buildings, so any changes in the exteriors conform to their historic ambiance; one street of wonderful Victorians has the same historic status, as requested by the residents. All this is going on while the city continues to grow, both in people and new job opportunities. While government still is the largest employer in Yavapai County - accounting for one-fourth of the work force - a new aluminum plant recently announced it would make Prescott its home; the 118-acre industrial park at the city-owned airport has such tenants as Airborne Navigation, Plastiloy Inc., and U.S. Motors Prescott's largest manufacturing employer with more than 500 workers. While the motor plant was the largest single plum the city ever attracted, a close second goes to the Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University on the campus of the old Prescott College. Mayor Gillis speaks proudly about how the university is expected to grow, from the 263 students who formed the first class in September of 1978 to the 4,000 students expected in a couple years. In all, Prescott has 1,427 licensed businesses (100 carry the town's name in their title) and the setting is so desirable the chamber admits the town can be choosey about those yet to come. Lots of choosey people also have pulled up stakes elsewhere and staked their futures in Prescott. The state estimates the population increased 35.6 percent from 1970 to 1977, attracting mainly retirees. “I call retirees an industry because they give a lot to the community,” Mrs. Baker says. And while the average age in Prescott now is 43, she sees it lowering as more job opportunities are provided by new industry.

“For Prescott, the growth has been huge,” says former planning director Deva Zlotshewer, who now is with a private planning firm. “When I came here three years ago, it was a lot if the city processed six new subdivisions a year. Now they're processing six subdivisions a month,” with 30 to 50 houses in each. If demand is any indication, that growth will continue. The Chamber gets about 600 letters a month requesting information on the town and scores of people who stop in to ask questions while they're traveling through. It is so the job of raising bees and making honey, growing vegetables, and canning the surplus is nothing new to Ernie and Darlene Dodd, who live on the shore of Lower Goldwater Lake. The lake, set in the foothills of the Bradshaws, provides part of the water supply for Prescott. J. Peter Mortimer

Variety spices the challenge of building new homes in burgeoning Prescott. (Above) Custom homes in the $70-$80,000 range now cover the land where Tom Mix once made movie westerns. Yavapai Hills, five miles east of Prescott, is a 1700-acre development of single family homes. (Right) Elena Delgadillo owns her own home in an older section of Prescott proper. She's lived there since 1916. A former employee of Tom Mix', she now collects memorabilia of her town, displaying the collection throughout her home. (Below) A custom house in the $100,000 plus range in Thumb Butte Estates west of Prescott is retired Air Force officer John Convey's choice of living styles. Unlike the Yavapai Hills development, Thumb Butte does not have a clubhouse or recreation facilities owned by a homeowners' association.