By Kathryn Reisdorfer

Some come to see the rodeo, the parade, or the fair on the Square.  Some come from the Valley to get away from the heat.  Others are drawn by the blow-out on Whiskey Row.  And, of course, there are the high-tech water fights.  Now 111 years old, Prescott's Fourth of July celebration and Rodeo still draws them in-for various reason and via various conveyances.

 

Today they come mostly in cars, but late in the last century, when the Russians were talking about who had what armaments and Gurley Street had been dug up for improvements (some things never change!), a major method of transportation was the railroad.  A decent pair of shoes cost $2.50, and the round trip fare from Phoenix was $8.20. Charlie Meadows, who was staging Charlie's Wild West Show featuring George Ruffner and Virgil Earp, noted that there would be "a large attendance of citizens from Phenix [sic] at the Fourth of July celebration."  A few years later, Phoenix newspapers promoted the Fourth in Prescott, "the most hospitable town in the State of Arizona."  Of course, local businessmen encouraged distant visitors: Come up a mile and smile a while, was their slogan. 
 

But it wasn't only visitors from the Valley who flocked to Prescott for the Fourth.  Early on, the days of the festival were especially important for people in remote sections of Yavapai County.  For hard working and often isolated people, there was a simple need to gather that was fulfilled during the Fourth of July commemoration, with it's feeling of general merriment and congenial competition.  Some had to travel for a day or more, coming in from the mining camps and military forts, from the ranches and other new, roaring communities . Early in this century, local newspapers encouraged Prescott folks to support the Fourth of July activities in the young town over the mountain by utilizing the Santa Fe's special $2 round trip fare to Jerome.  We have to reciprocate, they said, because Jerome people support Prescott's celebration.  They sent 500 in one year alone. 
 

People came to meet, but they also came to compete.  Now we concentrate on the activities of cowboys, but in the early days when the mines were booming, miners may have been a more exciting group to watch.  Spectators loved the hard-rock drilling contests. In 1897, one newspaper heightened the anticipation by announcing that "from each [mining camp] the good word comes that a big representation will be on hand."  After the 1899 hard-rock drilling contest, a local newspaper reported, "...there were over $1,000 in the pools, while as much more was bet on the side. . . some of the contestants were crack Colorado drillers, who thought they had a snap."  Apparently they didn't. 
 

Soldiers, especially from Fort Whipple, competed in drill formations, and cavalrymen were prominent in the parades and horse races.  Firemen also participated in droves.  One of the most important elements of the celebration was the Firemen's Ball, but firemen didn't just come to dance.  Hose companies, those vital components of fire-fighting teams in towns that were continually burning down, were as eager to compete as miners and soldiers.  Their hose contests might have planted the seed for today's water "competitions." 
 

Important as miners, soldiers, and firemen were, it is the cowboys we remember most.  In the early days, they made the difficult day's journey from places like Kirkland and Mayer.  Fathers might hitch their best horses to the family wagon so they could race them in Prescott.  Young fellows, sometimes very young, made the arduous trip over the mountains on the horses they would ride in the rodeo.  They came to play and to rest, to see and to be seen.  They wore shirts their mothers or wives made them: showy, colorful shirts they would wear at no other time of the year.  They came to display their skills and to win the big prizes, but many were just as happy if they made day money and could pay their entrance fees and have a bit left over for fun. 
 

All of them, miners, soldiers, firemen, and cowboys, competed at those things they knew best, things connected with their everyday work.  Miners who drilled rock six days a week chose their days off to drill for high stakes.  Firemen practiced frantically not only to douse fires but to win in competitions on the Fourth.  Cowboys used their every-day range skills to rope and tie ornery steers in front of eager spectators.  Though "girls" could compete in horse races and a few even busted broncs in the early days, women's chances to compete increased dramatically in 1913, when Frontier Days events dovetailed with the Northern Arizona State Fair.  In the fair, women competed too, by showing off their daily chores in the "events" at which they were best-quilting, canning, baking, and sewing. 
 

For those of us who crave to escape from the work-a-day world, the Frontier Days early in the century may seem like strange busmen's holidays-when people looked forward eagerly to perform or to display, in their precious time off, those skills that provided their living all year long.  What attitudes prompted them to exhibit for friends and neighbors what they did day in and day out?  Perhaps it was it to show that they were good not only at making a living but also at making their lives, that their apparently simple lives were not just worthwhile, but exceptional. 

Kathryn Reisdorfer is a Professor at Yavapai College and is currently working on an inventory of Historical Repositories in Yavapai County.

Sharlot Hall Museum Photograph Call Number: (rod143pc). Reuse only by permission.
Rodeo fans and participants ride west on Gurley Street in this photo taken about 1925. For hard working and often isolated people, there was a simple need to gather that was fulfilled during the Fourth of July commemoration, with it's feeling of general merriment and congenial competition.