By Darla Anderson
One day, probably in 1963, my family decided to stop at a quaint spot in Yarnell identifying itself with large letters as "Carraro’s Grotto." From the slender winding road, we could see giant gray boulders and a handmade railing that looked like the entry. In front was a small space to accommodate cars and to the left was a small gray trailer. The grotto loomed above.
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