By William "Bill" Peck

The facilities at Hillside were scant to say the least in 1940.  The water supply consisted of a drip from a spring claimed by Emmet Coleman and was forbidden to most of us.  It accumulated in a 50-gallon drum in front of his store beneath the scraggly cottonwood that served as shade and tether for "whose-ever" horse happened to be secured there.

By Karla Burkit

Probably no other single piece of legislation impacted more individual American families than the Homestead Act of 1862.  American citizens and immigrants from every walk of life rushed to stake claims under the provisions of this Act.  By 1900, nearly 400,000 individuals and families had paid the ten dollar registration fee and taken steps to "prove up" on a piece of the American Dream.

By Kathryn Reisdorfer

(The Yavapai Cemetery Association will be holding its 7th annual Memorial Day Observance at the Citizens Cemetery, 815 E. Sheldon, at 9:00 AM tomorrow.  Visitors are always welcome to wander throughout the cemetery and find stories of their own)

The irises are done blooming now, and even the spring roses, the small pink and yellow ones that seem to have sprung out of every rock in the city, are fading.  I was ready for more flowers when I saw something else entirely.

By Al Bates

Life in the U.S. military in the West in the mid 19th century was difficult.  Living conditions were primitive and shortages of necessities were common.  Patrols and forced marches in pursuit of elusive enemies, and the occasional deadly skirmish, broke long stretches of boring garrison duty.  Suicide and desertion were common ways of escape from intolerable conditions.

By Dorothy Chafin

(This is part of a continuing series of articles by Chafin reminiscing about her hometown.  During World War II, she worked downtown at the Harmon Audit Company and met wealthy and famous people.)

Jeb Stuart of Texas owned a ranch in Paulden, which he managed until his father died and he had to return to Texas to run the family business.  Until that time, I thought he was the real thing.

By Richard Gorby

(Continued from last week.)

In September of 1867, Prescott was little more than three years old and Arizona's Territorial Capital.  The territorial legislators were all Republican and Union sympathizers chosen by President Lincoln.  Into this group suddenly appeared the new owner of the Arizona Miner, John Huguenot Marion, who in his first editorial, September 21, 1867, shockingly revealed himself a Confederate and Democrat.  He wrote:

By Richard Gorby

Early in 1863, President Lincoln established the Arizona Territory by signing it into law.

By March 1864 the territorial officers had been appointed and told that they could pick the new capital.

Tucson, the biggest and almost the only town, was the obvious choice, but the officers, all Republican and Union followers, could not stomach the large number of Democrats and Confederate sympathizers in Tucson, so they moved north and west, deciding finally on the beautiful area around Granite Creek. By May, the new town site had been laid out and Prescott had been named the capital of the territory.

By Jody Drake

Before the appearance of man, the only law was that of balance, pry and predator.  In early human existence, we can only surmise that man adhered to this balance.  However, once individuals began to master their environment, the concepts of property came into light.  Once possession is questioned, protection is necessary, thus the laws.  Once laws are established, we have outlaws.  This is an oversimplification, granted, but a truth in fact.

By Parker Anderson

Father Alfred Quetu is fondly remembered in Prescott history as the priest who built the old Church of the Sacred Heart at the corner of Willis and Marina streets, as wella s the Roman Catholic Church in Jerome.  He was one of Prescott's most revered citizens, but by 1900, the gentle, bearded priest was in failing health and he took on an assistant to help him tend his parish.

By Terry Munderloh

From Prescott's founding in 1864 until 1881, the city's water supply came from wells and a few erratically producing springs.  A community water system didn't exist until workers sunk wells, one on each corner of the Courthouse Plaza, in 1881.