Along the Way

ALONG THE WAY Mack McCord's Unique Grave Site Is on the Tonto National Forest

The Tonto National Forest, like all federal agencies, is a stickler for following regulations. Just about anything anyone wants to do on the national forest, even collecting deadwood, requires a permit of some kind.

Once the Tonto forest even processed a burial permit.

It was a first for any Arizona national forest. And it was the last.

The story began almost 60 years ago when Newton B.F. "Mack" McCord, a retired railroader from Los Angeles, decided he wanted a grave with a view.

McCord, a bachelor, had made friends with several families in Mesa when visiting Arizona, and they, noting the old man was lonely, would invite him along when they went on picnics on the Tonto.

One of their outings was to Screwtail Hill, near the tiny community of Sunflower, beside the Beeline Highway, State Route 87.

McCord was impressed with the beauty of the place and the sweeping view. Kicking over a rock, he said, "This is where I want to be buried."

His friends, shocked, tried to change his mind. They mentioned all the nice green cemeteries in Los Angeles, while Screwtail Hill would hardly support a blade of grass.

"Don't want no lawn mowers running over my grave," McCord growled.

So the old man formally petitioned the Tonto National Forest for a grave site on Screwtail Hill.

Right off he learned there was no provision for grave sites in Forest Service regulations. But McCord found a friend in F. Lee Kirby who was the forest supervisor in 1935. Bending regulations to fit the whim of an old man, Kirby granted McCord a special-use permit, the Forest Service term for something out of the ordinary.

The permit, of course, was couched in Forest Service terminology. At no charge, it said, Mr. McCord was entitled to an eighth of an acre of the Tonto forest subject to the following conditions: He had to use the premises for "at least 365 days a year," had to comply with all Forest Service regulations, observe all sanitary laws, keep the premises in a neat and orderly condition, dispose of refuse, prevent forest fires, conduct all "business in a sane and orderly fashion," and notify forest officials of any change of address.

McCord snapped up the offer.

In a note to Kirby, McCord said, "I want to thank you for the permit so graciously granted for me to be buried in the national forest, and I promise you after I locate there, I will not violate any of the forest violations that [are] enumerated in the permit. Thank you. It won't be long now." But McCord was wrong. It was long-11 years before he departed this world at age 82 years, two months, and four days.

McCord's friends discovered that the site he picked out was solid granite. Instead of digging the grave, they used dynamite, blasting out a large hole. Then, at great labor, they carried the casket up the mountain and skidded it down into the hole.

Several large rocks were rolled on top of the casket "to keep it down," said one mourner. There were no services, and only a half-dozen persons pallbearers all were present.

A stonecutter, wearing out three chisels in the process, carved out the words "Mack's Rest" on a giant boulder nearby.

And there he rests to this day, protected by a special-use permit, and safe from all lawn mowers.