By Ruth Noggle
In 1948, my family came to Prescott from Michigan via Tucson. Harriette (Mom) and Joe Noggle (Dad and driver of our black 1949 Ford sedan), Carl and Roy (my older brothers) and I (Ruth, two years old at the time) drove up the Yarnell Hill on the two-lane, curvy Highway 89. When we had stopped in Congress for fuel before going up the hill, the station attendant gave Dad two flares to use in case we couldn’t make it up the hill! The radiator did overheat, but we slowly chugged into and through Yarnell. We drove on past Wilhoit’s lone gas station and on up to White Spar Road toward Prescott. Dad assured us the curves would end, but we had serious doubts.
Read More

