By Dana Sharp

(This is the second part of a two-part article that was first published in its entirety in the courier in 1975) 

A walk through Mint Valley on a quiet autumn day gives you the feeling of going back in time, of almost being with the people who once lived and worked there. People with hopes and dreams, people who built homes, planted orchards and raised children and left remnants of their living for us to find. Shards of purple glass that once were whole, gracing the Sunday table, a few pieces of old silverware, broken crocks, steps barely showing through the grass leading to nowhere, but must have once lead into a warm kitchen filled with the smell of rising bread and the sound of laughter.

By Dana Sharp

(This two part article was first run in the Courier supplement called "Westward" on October 31, 1975 - a long time before the recent development of the area) 

To the northwest of Prescott sprawls a giant of earth and granite boulders, holding the roots of pine trees, oak brush, manzanita, prickly pear and pinon. Tall pines march like sentinels across the rocky crest. Almost a last frontier for wildlife in an area becoming more heavily populated every day, Granite Mountain stands a monument to a vanished time.

By Ronald E. Bromley

(In September of 2003, there appeared Days Past article about Humboldt, which inspired this author to send in these reminiscences to the Sharlot Hall Museum)

It was 1945, but my first visit to Humboldt, Arizona is quite vivid. We left Los Angeles early one morning in our 1941 Studebaker Champion with suitcases neatly packed into the trunk to save room for all five passengers on the long, hot, and often dusty ride. Most of the time dad drove and mom (Vivian) sat in the front with Bob Jr. or me. Grandma Wahlater sat in the back with one of us grandchildren. Read More

By Samantha Abraham, Heather Snyder, Holly Blassingame, Nick DeVaney, Jennifer Martin, April Fabozzi, and Kayla Marston

I had a little bird, 
Its name was Enza, 
I opened the window, 
And in-flu-enza. 

-1918 Child Jump Rope Rhyme

It was the fall of 1918 and a new fashion statement was spreading throughout our state by order of the Public Health Officers. Gauze masks were covering the nose and mouth of all. This order was not just to protect the public from seasonal allergies, but rather from the devastating influenza virus that was consuming the world.

By Pat Atchison

A number of words are used to name these items; headstones, tombstones, and/or gravestones. No matter what they are called, they are usually the most eye-catching structures in a cemetery.

A number of different kinds of rocks were used to make the headstones in Citizens Cemetery. There are many fine examples made from granite which was quarried locally. The military stones and many others are cut marble. Various types of local sedimentary rocks were used to mark other gravesites. Gravel mixed with cement was used to make concrete markers (which primarily compose the Potters Field.) These examples make it quite clear why the words headstone, tombstone and gravestone are used.

By William "Bill" Peck

Burro Creek glides down from the high plateaus of the Baca Grant into the Big Sandy River where together with the Santa Maria River; they combine to form the Bill Williams River. History has had a habit of confusing these streams, the names of which are reversed and interchanged on older maps.

I first became acquainted with Burro Creek in 1943 when Louie Schmidt took me there. Louie lived in small house in Hillside beside Darnal's Store. A single bed occupied the north wall that was also a lounge, storage area and took up a good part of the 12' by 15' floor space of the building.

By Parker Anderson

In days past, the town of Ash Fork had a reputation as an unsavory place-a place where the worst elements of society congregated to ply their questionable trades, and where seekers of vice went to entertain their wants. Contrary to popular belief, much vice was legal in those days, and law enforcement personnel were unable to do much about it unless provoked by specific incidents. The day came when this happened in Ash Fork, and Yavapai County Attorney Patrick W. O'Sullivan vowed to clean up the town.

By Nancy Kirkpatrick Wright

Have you been to Chloride, Arizona recently? If you are one of those folks who are drawn to unusual back road adventures, you will find the road to Chloride by taking Highway 93 north from Kingman about fifteen miles. From there, the side road winds its way up the mountain three or four miles to a cluster of nineteenth century mining communities.

Chloride, one of the first mining towns in Arizona, was named for the heavy silver chloride ore exposed in the rocky ledges in the area. Prospectors found gold and silver in abundance there from 1860's into the early 1900's.

By Mick Woodcock 

Occasionally, one of the old newspaper articles is too good not to reprint. Just days before Christmas on December 22, 1876 the Arizona Weekly Miner published one of those. It describes the new brick building built for the local mercantile firm of C. P. Head & Co.. This store was located on the northeast corner of Gurley and Montezuma streets and stood there until destroyed by the fire of 1900, which burned much of Prescott's business district.

By Carol Powell

In the early 1880s, the wagon trains provided the means for a whole family to move in exchange for the labor of the head of the house. The Louis and Clara Miller family were just such a family. Clara had been married before and had children already. In the course of her marriage to Louis, she produced eight more children. Four of the boys grew up to become railroad men. The oldest of the six boys, Louis Clair Miller, who eventually served as a constable in Prescott for a while, is the focus of this story.