TAKING THE OFF-RAMP

taking the off-ramp Order in the Courthouse

Oconino County was mighty proud when the courthouse opened more than 100 years ago. It had indoor plumbing, and, shortly after its opening, the first concrete sidewalks in Flagstaff were poured around it. In June 2002, the county proudly rededicated the fully functioning courthouse, faithfully restored to its original late-19th-century grandeur with hand-chiseled stone, arched portals and a proper finial crowning the clock tower. Construction of the stone structure began in 1894 and finished in 1895. At the corner of East Birch and North San Francisco streets in Flagstaff, it's the seat of government for the second-largest county (in land area) in the country. Los Angeles architects Preston & Locke designed the twostory Richardsonian Romanesque-style building. The first section was a 3,600-square-foot building and in 1925 a compatible addition was attached. Through the years, however, further expansions and modifications were made, including a curved office wing and rock wall in the 1950s that largely hid the building's west face. A newspaper editor wrote that it was like putting "ketchup on ice cream."

Six Feet Under

Nearly 300 victims of old Tombstone's nefarious past rest in Boothill Cemetery, also known as the "bone orchard." Some of the infamous inhabitants include the well-known prostitute Dutch Annie, the casualties from the gunfight at the O.K. Corral and outlaws who developed "throat trouble" at the town's gallows. Although many of the graves are unmarked, one of the remaining grave markers bears the West's most famous epitaph:

Wild and Woolly

More than 10,000 years ago, the Prescott Valley area was predominantly marshland and mammoths roamed the terrain.

In the early 1990s, a heritage commission and the county board of supervisors committed themselves to saving the state's oldest existing cut-stone courthouse. Using the original ink-on-linen plans, the Flagstaff architectural firm of Johnson Walzer Associates, along with Skidmore Contracting, accomplished the restoration project.

of supervisors committed themselves to saving the state's oldest existing cut-stone courthouse. Using the original ink-on-linen plans, the Flagstaff architectural firm of Johnson Walzer Associates, along with Skidmore Contracting, accomplished the restoration project.

They removed the 1950s addition and obtained blocks of the original warm red Moenkopi sandstone, 18 to 24 inches thick, from the local quarry. Stone sculptor Kevin Butler devoted painstaking artistry to reworking the decorative filigree around doors and windows. Inside, the original oak staircase, wallpaper, wainscoting and pressedtin ceilings have been revealed. And while the grand dame underwent a major makeover, the renovators incorporated modern systems so the building can be used for court purposes. That, says architect Tim Whiteside, was the biggest challenge.

A Mysterious Explosion

An explosion rocked Tucson the night of June 27, 1881. Was it the fulfillment of the prophecy made centuries ago by the legendary English witch Mother Shipton? She had predicted the world would end in 1881. Or was it the crashing impact of a comet that had been spotted over the Santa Catalina Mountains five days before? Most of Tucson connected the comet to Shipton's prophecy, and when the blast came, it was seen as evidence that Earth's destruction was imminent. Meanwhile, 10 miles east of town at Fort Lowell, Anton Mazzanovich, of the 6th Cavalry, was seeing to the pressing business of keeping his beer cold. He had four quarts chilling in a creek when the sound of the explosion caused him to drop a bottle.

Mazzanovich, of the 6th Cavalry, was seeing to the pressing business of keeping his beer cold. He had four quarts chilling in a creek when the sound of the explosion caused him to drop a bottle.

"You can bet a Mexican jumping bean against an Arizona horned toad that everyone in Tucson and at Fort Lowell thought the comet had hit the bull's eye," Mazzanovich wrote later. Actually, the blast was caused by the combustion of explosives stored at Zeckendorf's powder house in Tucson. The shock was felt at Fort Grant, 100 miles away.

THIS MONTH IN ARIZONA

1865 Gen. John S. Mason proclaims all Apaches in Arizona Territory "hostile," and he orders Indian men slain on the spot unless they surrender.

1873 The first large ferry is launched at Lee's Crossing by its builder, John L. Blythe.

1881 Tombstone boasts 66 saloons within the city limits, as well as ice cream parlors, oyster bars, tennis courts and French and German language clubs.

1882 Tucson newspapers report that brick is taking the place of adobe as the number one building material.

1887 Construction begins on the University of Arizona campus in Tucson.

1891 The University of Arizona opens.

1907 Yuma police put a stop to poker games played in saloons. Police in Bisbee, Globe and other towns think about following suit.

Chile Fest

Peppers are the hot topic at La Fiesta de los Chiles at the Tucson Botanical Gardens, Oct. 26-27. Chiles star in art, food, jewelry, clothing and cultural icons, along with music (salsa, of course, and more), crafts, cooking demonstrations and gardening tips. Visitors sample chile cuisines from Asia, Mexico and Italy, as well as from the Hopi and Tohono O'odham nations. Facepainting and crafts occupy children, and peppers even play a part in a puppet show. Information: (520) 326-9686.

A Swift Answer to a Prayer

“As a wildlife photographer,” says Marty Cordano, “you're completely at the mercy of the elements, which can make things difficult.” Cordano often has to wait hours at a time for a specific animal to happen by. But sometimes a photo opportunity appears as if by divine intervention.

“I got an assignment from a magazine to take a picture of a white-throated swift,” Cordano explains. “But I found out these swifts feed, mate and sleep on the wing. I figured getting a shot would be almost impossible because when you see one of them, it's only a glimpse.

“I was sweating bullets wondering how I could get the photo. Then I got a call from a friend at the Southwest Wildlife Rehabilitation Center near Phoenix. She said an injured white-throated swift had just come in and wondered if I wanted to take any pictures.”With providential timing, the center had received the swift from two nuns who were walking in downtown Phoenix when the bird dove right in front of them. It hit a plate-glass window and fell at their feet. The nuns, concerned for the stunned bird, picked it up and took it to the center. And that's how Cordano got his picture.

Ned White, the Bard of Brewery Gulch

Everyone knows about the rollicking past of Bisbee's Brewery Gulch, where miners went to drink beer and carouse after a shift underground. But it was also a place of poetry, thanks to Ned White, who spent his days shagging copper and his nights penning verse about the men with whom he worked shoulder to shoulder. Born of Irish parents in Wyoming in 1873, White went to work at the Congress Mine near Wickenburg at age 14. There he learned early, as his daughter wrote in Arizona's Bard of Brewery Gulch, “about the headless man who haunted the night shift, and the names of the big rats that came for crumbs from lunches.” After he moved to Bisbee, White's writing ran in the Brewery Gulch Gazette, winning him the admiration of every miner in the camp and of thousands more around the Southwest. Fred McKinney, the Gazette's publisher, said White knew the miners' lives intimately and was talented enough to put their dreams into words, something they couldn't do themselves. Eventually nicknamed the Bard of Brewery Gulch, White was never boastful, saying of his poems, “They are little things, but trifles writing ran in the Brewery Gulch Gazette, winning him the admiration of every miner in the camp and of thousands more around the Southwest. Fred McKinney, the Gazette's publisher, said White knew the miners' lives intimately and was talented enough to put their dreams into words, something they couldn't do themselves. Eventually nicknamed the Bard of Brewery Gulch, White was never boastful, saying of his poems, “They are little things, but trifles make up life.” By the time of his death in Bisbee in 1935, those trifles had made him one of the best-read and most-talked-about authors in Arizona.

Ghosts Need Friends, Too

Many of Arizona's older buildings boast haunting reputations. Bar stools sometimes slide across the floor at the Hotel Monte Vista in Flagstaff, faucets and fans get turned on and off by Abby Bur, resident ghost at Prescott's Hotel Vendome; and a strange black-gowned lady whispers to men at the Copper Queen Hotel in Bisbee.

But whom do these places call when they want proof they have a resident ghost? A paranormal group in Mesa called MVD Ghostchasers. The Ghostchasers team, described by spokesperson Debe Branning as a unique assortment of personalities that work together like family, claims to put out an energy that draws the ghosts. Branning thinks professionals sometimes get too clinical and keep the ghosts at bay.

“We have fun with the spirits,” says Branning. “We interact with them. When we do a group shot, we ask who wants to be in the picture.” When a spirit floats past, the Ghostchasers team knows it by the sounds of heavy breathing, footsteps and chimes, plus a distinct coldness or the sensation of ghosts passing through their bodies. They capture the spirit's image with 35mm cameras loaded with 400 ASA film, claiming the ghosts show up on developed film as orbs, varying from transparent to opaque and often in widely ranging colors.

“Anyone can pick up an orb,” says Ghostchaser Branning. “My young daughter will get a throwaway camera with 400-speed film and find all kinds of things.” Information: (480) 969-4049.

Desert Treasure by Another Name

At their informal outdoor museum in the desert near Tombstone, John and Sandy Weber display more than 5,000 rustic antiques and collectibles they've found and traded for over the years. Expect to find everything from saddles, spurs and bridles to guns, animal skulls and a huge mineral collection. "People say it's better than any mineral show they've seen," says John Weber. A 200-pound ball and chain once used at the Gleeson jail, 500 different tools, a still-loaded pistol recovered from Outlaw Mountain and a cannon that might have been used in the Mexican Revolution anchor the blacksmithing section. To get there, take the Gleeson Road 12 miles east from Tombstone, then go 1.8 miles south on the Double U Ranch Road. These roads are dusty but smooth, fine for passenger cars. Open dawn to dusk every day. Information: (520) 642-9207.

Just Say Joe

Some people collect coins, stamps or even Pez candy dispensers. But Joey Bistro in Sedona may display the most unexpected assortment of collectibles yet. Restaurant owner and CEO Joe Martori collects pictures of famous Joes. Hanging on the walls of his upscale Italian eatery, his namesake pictures range from Joseph Stalin to baseball great "Shoeless Joe" Jackson to G.I. Joe and a joey, the winsome young of the kangaroo. Any patron who can name all 40-some Joes wins a bottle of wine. And while that might sound easy, this eclectic hodgepodge welcomes Joes from every arena. There are political Joes (Joe Kennedy), notorious Joes (Joey Buttafuco) and sports Joes (Namath and Montana). Give it a try at Sedona's Los Abrigados Resort and Spa, 160 Portal Lane. Information: (928) 204-JOEY.

Question of the Month

Why does an albino diamondback rattlesnake have a short life expectancy?

Lacking melanin, the pigment that provides the species' protective coloration, an albino rattler makes an easy target for its hungry enemies.

LIFE IN ARIZONA 1 8 8 0 s POSTON THE FIRE WORSHIPER

Pyramids suit the desert. So when Charles Poston thought Primrose Hill, a stone's throw north of the Gila River in Florence, looked like one of the Egyptian pyramids, his imagination wasn't reaching too far into the peculiar. Called the "father of Arizona," Poston zealously transformed Washington, D.C.'s view of Arizona from untamed wilderness to a land worthy of being designated a territory, and then he became one of Arizona's first elected Territorial delegates to Congress. Back in Arizona during the late 1800s, Poston often climbed the 300-foot hill and pondered the rubble of an old stone tower the Indians once used as a lookout. Edging toward the oddball, Poston visualized the tower ruins as a temple where Indians once worshiped a sun god. That idea started after he traveled to the Far East and learned about Zoroastrianism, an ancient Persian religion that uses fire as a divine symbol. His zeal earned him another moniker, "Queer Genius," when he started giving speeches and writing articles promoting fire worship. His peculiarity finally ran amok when Poston spent thousands of dollars building a road to the peak of the hill, where he planned to build a temple to worship the sun and be buried. Ill health, poverty and senility waylaid his plans, though. When he died in 1902, Poston ended up in the paupers' field. In 1925, Poston's body was transferred in a metal casket to the top of his beloved Primrose Hill and reburied under a pyramidshaped monument of mortared cobblestones. Now called Poston Butte, the hill not only has a pyramid (albeit a small one) on its peak, but Poston as well. To see it, take State Route 79 north of Florence, turn west onto Hunt Highway at Milepost 136. Drive about .8 of a mile and turn right at the underpass and park.