By Ken Edwards

Horrible: terrible, awful, dreadful, revolting, repulsive, disgusting, and more. What could be more entertaining for a Fourth of July celebration than a parade of "Horribles"? Not to be outdone by New Orleans' Mardi Gras, an intrepid group of prominent Prescott citizens under the direction of Messrs. W. F. Holden and John F. Meador, organized an adjunct to the annual Fourth of July festivities in downtown Prescott in 1881.

By Nancy Kirkpatrick Wright

Recently we've been hearing about the "She-DISK-y" wildfire. Radio and TV commentators new to the Southwest, and even those who've been here a long time, had not heard of this remote spot in Arizona until a devastating wild fire broke out there in June. Their guesses at pronunciation were sometimes wild and funny. Just as newly arrived newscasters have usually said "Mongolian" when talking about Arizona's Mogollon Rim Country. Of course most of us forgive them because we also mispronounced these words (if we pronounced them at all) when we first came to Arizona.

By Dr. Sandra Lynch

Early in the 1970s, the Forestry Department of Colorado State University teamed up with my department, Agricultural Economics, in a joint project with New Mexico State University. We compiled a feasibility study that recommended some Navajo and Ute Indians become Christmas tree farmers, thus providing a new industry using unemployed resources on the two reservations.

By Al Bates

A chance encounter at a Fourth of July outing in 1869 led to the adoption of an orphan Indian child and, many years later, to one of Territorial Arizona's most bitter estate settlements. Feelings over the estate settlement were so intense that at one point a rifle was fired into a room occupied by a woman and her two young children.

By Michael Wurtz

Only two and a half weeks have passed since the Indian Creek Fire rolled into our backyards and caused about 3 million dollars in damage. It seems too fresh to be considered "history," but it is fast becoming a piece of Prescott history. It will probably be just a matter of time before legends of Virgil Earp and gargoyles on the Hotel St. Michael are attached to it.

By William "Bill" Peck

Once upon a time Hillside had a store-two if you counted Darnall's. So did Congress, Skull Valley, Kirkland and Yarnell. But, all that Bagdad had was a commissary. These were real honest to goodness general stores that stocked meat, fruits, vegetables, Blazo, kerosene, rabbit feed, Levi's, gas and an assortment of veterinarian supplies. Bag Balm was used most likely as hand lotion even though the label didn't specify it for people.

By Carolyn Bradshaw

(This is the second part of a two-part article regarding Jerome Union Stage War.) 

The real fireworks would not start until the Jerome Union Stage Line was awarded a contract for postal service between Jerome and Prescott in 1923. In the mail contract, the government asked the bidders to take into account the revenues that might accrue from carrying passengers. Elijah Flummerfelt's Jerome Union bid of $6,700 vs. the Arizona Bus Company's bid of $21,000 was clearly designed to get Flumerfelt the contract.

By Carolyn Bradshaw

(This is the first part in a two-part article regarding the Jerome Union Stage Wars) 

On a February afternoon in 1923, Sheriff George Ruffner left Prescott to do the job his deputies had refused to do, arrest the driver of a mail-carrying automobile, a man in charge of the United States mail.

By Dr. Kathryn Reisdorfer

When we think about the Old West, we often conjure up images from movies about gun-slinging desperadoes and barroom brawls. Though Hollywood tends to exaggerate and romanticize these events, it is true that violence was widespread, and murders, especially in the early days of prospecting and mining, were frequent.

Suicides were also common in those days of wild dreams and dashed hopes. 

By Mona Lange McCroskey

In 1967, drawn by the immense, open country of Australia, Prescott cowboy Lyman Tenney entered into a contract to manage the Wollogorang station, in the Northern Territory on the Gulf of Carpenteria. Although the Tenney family had always lived on Arizona ranches, the distances in Australia were daunting and they were isolated for four months every year by monsoon rains. It was 500 miles to the grocery store at Mount Isa! A few groceries were available at Burketown, 187 miles down the coast (population 76-"and 70 of those were Aboriginals,") by two tracks down through the timber. The Tenneys soon connected with the mail plane that came in every two weeks.