By Tom Collins 

It was December 28, 1872, and more than one hundred Yavapai - aged grandparents, mothers, children, and several braves - had taken refuge in a cave in the Salt River Canyon in Maricopa County. At dawn, General Crook's 5th Cavalry let loose a hail of bullets that ricocheted off the walls and ceiling of the cave. The Yavapai fought back, but to no avail. After several hours, some 75 Indians lay lifeless on the floor of the cave. The rest were captured and packed off to a reservation. Today the battle is known as the Skeleton Cave Massacre.

By Mona Lange McCroskey 

David Jenner first became interested in the cattle business when his parents, who lived in a Chicago suburb, bought a farm west of the city. It was a farmer-feeder operation where they raised crops and brought cattle in from the west, fed them and then sold them as fat cattle. As Jenner grew up, he took more and more of an interest in the farm, and he got along well with the farmer who ran the business for his family. 

By Sharlot M. Hall 

Edited by Parker Anderson 

Editor's Note: The following article first appeared in the Prescott Courier on March 19, 1932. It seems particularly timely today, with all of the development that is appearing on and around Glassford Hill.

Men make strange friendships as they go through life - sometimes beautiful as they are strange and unusual. There was such a friendship between the rounded brown hill lying to the east of Prescott, and one of the finest of the old-time army officers who served at Fort Whipple. 

By Kathryn Reisdorfer 

As those who frequent Sharlot Hall Museum know its founder was an interesting lady, quite unique for her era. Born in Kansas in 1870, Sharlot Hall came west with her family in 1881, ending up in the Prescott area in 1882. Although she had little formal schooling, Sharlot become a literary figure of note, regionally as well as nationally. The person who placed her in the spotlight was Charles Fletcher Lummis, another colorful character who made his own trek west shortly after the Halls.

By Stan Brown 

My fascination with steel span bridges began as a kid on my grandfather's farm in Illinois. Old family photos reveal the wooden plank deck and triangular steel network of that one-way bridge across the Little Wabash River. Imagine my nostalgia when I came upon three spans just like that, close to my home in Prescott. My excitement increased when I realized they were identical to the span that had bridged the East Verde River near our family cabin north of Payson.

By Randi Wise 

Taking a ride on Senator Highway deep into the Bradshaws, you will come upon a log home sitting right off by itself. It may look a little forlorn to you right now but there was a time that it was a bustling enterprise. Sitting on the busiest road in the Bradshaws, this unassuming little cabin was soon to be known as Palace Station. Please, let me start at the beginning.

(The following article was printed in the Prescott Journal-Miner on July 4, 1907.) 

"Nine years ago, July 1, as the American soldiers, members of the Rough Riders, lay entrenched before San Juan Hill, awaiting the order from their superior to charge the foe, there walked back and forth, before his men, a captain of one of the troops of that famous fighting command, who, despite the repeated entreaties of his followers, would not seek shelter from the rain of Spanish bullets that swept down the hill.

by Parker Anderson 

The initial crime had gone unnoticed for months and the victims were not missed. Once the crime was discovered, it became a story that chilled Yavapai County citizens in 1887, and still resonates to this day. 

By Karla Burkitt 

An artist, historian or living history interpreter whose job is to bring historical activities or people to life for an audience, faces a tremendous challenge. Sharing details of another time period or another person's experience with sensitivity and accuracy is a delicate balancing act.

by Robert L. Spude 

Among the collections at Sharlot Hall Museum is a finely hand-made wooden box. Inside, slid between wooden tracks, stand the glass plate negatives of Clarence H. Shaw, photographer of Arizona Territory during the 1890s and early 1900s.