Sanctuary Cove

When Elmer Staggs arrived in Tucson in 1917, the rolling hills of the shrub-andcactus-covered desert must have seemed like a sanctuary. A Missouri cowboy suffering from tuberculosis, Staggs at 23 was a strong-willed individual who determined that his last roundup was still a long way off. His belief in his new surroundings as a healing place evidently was not farfetched: he lived to be 92. During his lifetime, Staggs-who had been a forest ranger, a rancher, and a dabbler in real estate-developed a great affection for the desert, possibly because it fostered his belief that human beings need a place to meditate and recharge their spiritual batteries.

Sanctuary Cove, a parcel of land he acquired in the Tucson Mountains, emerged from that belief.

Staggs adopted a degree of poetic license in naming it a cove: water is difficult to find in the sea of rock that forms the volcanic base of Safford Peak. For a time he ran cattle on this range, but later moved his ranching operations to the Rincon Mountains at the eastern end of the Tucson basin.

George Droesch, 74, one of Staggs' closest friends, remarked, “It was Elmer's dream to create a sort of retreat, a place to meditate. He talked to people of like mind, and it all came together in 1956. A few friends came out here that year, and in 1957 they created a nonprofit corporation called the All Creeds Brotherhood.” Title to the land in the Tucson Mountains was transferred to the group in 1957 with the understanding that the property would be kept open to “persons of all creeds and races who care to come to this quiet secluded place” for meditation and worship. About 10 years ago, the size of the parcel (originally 120 acres) was reduced when a 40-acre portion was sold to Saguaro National Monument, whose west unit borders the property.

Today there is an unpretentious stone chapel at Sanctuary Cove, but in the early years there was nothing. One of the first traditions Staggs established was an annual Easter sunrise service. At the first such service, Staggs and seven companions sat on the bare ground and, each in his own way, celebrated the Resurrection. For the sunrise service in 1988, an estimated 325 persons showed up, although the brotherhood itself nowconsists of only about two dozen members, many of whom are elderly.

For many years, the brotherhood allowed couples to be married in its chapel, but that policy was finally abandoned when it was decided that the ceremonies intruded on the solitude people sought when they visited the site.

Before the weddings were prohibited, about 70 couples a year-Catholics, Protestants, and Jews-were married there.

Kathryn Draman, a native of Southern California who became involved in the brotherhood about seven years ago, told me, “You don't have to accept any kind of religious ethic to be affiliated with All Creeds. Nobody is dogmatic. Everything is done with love. When I got involved, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. I mean, being the basic cynic that I am, I kept thinking there's got to be greed involved somewhere-but there never is. People who become involved in the brotherhood are never asked for money.

One of the things the members have in common, she said, "is a passion for a place that you don't want to see developed. Visitors to the Tucson area sometimes go to Sanctuary Cove before they leave, to say goodbye to the desert. I know that may sound corny, but it's true."

At the 1988 annual meeting of All Creeds, 20 members were present. The members, other than a caretaker, do not live on the grounds.

Wistfully, Mrs. Draman explained that "most of the old guard have moved away, and others are old or infirm. I keep telling George we have to attract some new members because everyone is getting old. I'm over 50, and I'm the kid in the group. Well, I think things may change soon. At the last sunrise service, we made an announcement, and I think we may get about 15 new members."

Sanctuary Cove has never attracted hordes of people, in part because it is not advertised and relatively few persons, even among residents of Tucson, are aware of its existence. But those who have spent time at the cove are evidently enchanted by it, and deeply moved by the "closeness to God" they find there.

Shortly after Stagg's death in June, 1986, a memorial service was held for him in the tiny chapel at Sanctuary Cove.

"It was a strange and interesting collection of people," Mrs. Draman said. "We went to say good-bye to a hardworking man with gnarled hands. Anyone who was moved to speak did so, and then we went home."

Sanctuary Cove is open daily from dawn until dusk. There is a caretaker's house on the grounds, but you need not stop there. A sign at the entrance summarizes the rules: "In love we have opened our hearts and doors to you; will you, in love, use this chapel for meditation only."

You can also wander the few trails at will-but leave your radios and tape players at home.