Christmas Celebrations in Isolated Mining Camps, 1903

Iron King Mine

Despite being isolated in the wilderness of Arizona, mining camps still enjoyed wondrous and touching Christmas celebrations in 1903.

Disaster! Four Yavapai County Banks Fail on 11/25/1925

November 25, 1925, was a disastrous day in Yavapai County. Four banks suddenly and permanently closed their doors, and people’s deposits were frozen and unavailable—a mere month before Christmas!

The Ultra-Lavish Yavapai Club Building

“The object of the organizers [of the Yavapai Club] was to induce a healthful mingling of recreation, pleasure, and business, and the object has been most successfully attained to the advantage of the club and of Prescott,” the Weekly Journal-Miner declared. “Important business enterprises, many of them of a quasi-public character, have been launched after excellent dinners, or in the course of enjoyable smokers, [when marijuana was imbibed.] Millionaire capitalists, statesmen of worldwide reputation, railroad magnates, distinguished authors, and captains of industry have been pleased guests of the Yavapai Club.” Indeed, during the first quarter of the 20th century, the Yavapai Club was the heart and soul of the business and social community of the county, which bore its name.

Dan (Granville) Fain Nearly Murdered!

Dan Fain around the time
of the incident.

It was seven years before the Rafter 11 would brand its first bovine; when Norman Fain was just a lil’ cowpoke, at the mere age of 3. “Dan Fain was assaulted at Humboldt [May 31, 1910,] and escaped death solely through good fortune,” the Weekly Journal-Miner exclaimed.

The Mystery of Prescott’s Mineral Fountain

Before the Plaza fountain we know today was constructed in 1910, the Plaza had a “Mineral Fountain” (pictured above).  Along its outside boundary were a number of what the Weekly Arizona Journal-Miner described as “peculiar red rock[s]…about which there has been much speculation as to what [they are].”

“The rock is peculiar in that it is susceptible of a good polish and it contains practically no grit," the paper continued, and is very soft, as it can be whittled with a knife like a piece of chalk. When the fountain was being built, this rock attracted general attention from all who saw it, but no one seemed able to classify it.”

Then, in April 1903, two investigators identified the source of these peculiar rocks, not too far from Prescott. They gathered samples to take to several different assayers, and what they found was a great surprise to everyone.

The Forgotten, Lost Town of Val Verde

 

The evening of September 24, 1904, was windy, and the smelter’s open building provided some relief from the heat of the furnace. Around 9pm, as part of their routine, workers wet down the furnace and began to remove, or “undrape” the liquid slag. This time, however, there was too much of the by-product, and the slag poured out of the furnace too quickly for the men to control it. 

“It spread over the floor, in front of the smelter,” the Weekly Journal-Miner explained, “and the molten slag, coming in contact with the water, caused [an] explosion, sending the hot metal all through the building; setting it on fire in a number of places.” While there was an abundance of water on hand, it was impossible to check the progress of the blaze as the strong winds fanned the flames. 

Not only was the building doomed, but so was the five-year-old town of Val Verde. 

1922: Prescott Turns the Page on the Old West

From its beginning and for the better part of a century, Prescott desired to be a modern city in stark contrast to the surrounding wilderness. Come 1922, people had grown weary of streets that were either dusty or muddy, and the desire was strong to dust off Prescott’s cowtown image and replace it with a modern, 20th-century city. As a result, 1922 would see the biggest infrastructure improvements the city would ever experience, as well as Prescott’s first big growth spurt.

Tornados in Yavapai County?

Arizona is known for straight-line winds, red flag warnings, and dust devils that can be strong enough to create tornado-like destruction, but actual tornadoes? Indeed, there have been rare times when the Quad-Cities area fell victim to genuine twisters.

Yavapai Co's First Prohibition Sting

Prohibition went into effect on January 1, 1915, and Sheriff Joe Young was intent on making it stick. It was the middle of May when he made his first big sting. Before all was said and done, however, one of the informants would be charged with soliciting a bribe.

Humboldt Suffers Two Conflagrations in Three Weeks

In July 1910, William Oliver, manager of the Shumate confectionery, billiards, and cigar store in Humboldt, was vacationing in Prescott. He spoke to the newspaper “in glowing terms” of his new hometown, describing it “as a coming commercial and mining center.” Little did he know that within a month, Humboldt would suffer two “great fires”; the latter of which would start in the basement of the building in which Oliver’s business was housed!

Christmas 1909: Big Snow, Big Gifts

As December 25th, 1909, approached, citizens of Prescott were optimistic about the local economy. Ore prices had revived, and it was announced that the Humboldt smelter would restart the following Spring.

Yet that particular Christmas would be remembered for a colossal snow blizzard and two gifts so extraordinarily generous, it was thought that they would never be forgotten—although they largely have been.

Story Behind the Names: Dewey-Humboldt

It was December 20th, 2004, when Dewey and Humboldt were wedded through incorporation. Although the two experienced vastly different upbringings, they had always had a symbiotic relationship.

With these two stories lies the account of the two major industries in early Anglo Yavapai County history. Dewey was a ranching town providing the food, while her future husband, Humboldt, was a mining town earning the cold, hard cash.

1916: Man Kills Two Over a $2 Bet

Fred Marshall was a disturbed, angry man. Few in the area knew much about him or anything of his past. (*1)

Yet one warm June evening, Marshall would receive his "15 minutes of fame" in a most notorious way.

He and a local machinist named S.F. Wrenn "were shaking dice in (George G.) Casey's Poolroom and became involved in an argument over a $2 bet," which Marshall "refused to pay." (*2)

"During the argument, Wrenn knocked Marshall down." Incensed, "Marshall went across the street to his home and procured a revolver. He returned to the pool hall, [where he] was met outside the door by Wrenn.

"The two men grappled. Wrenn wrested the gun from Marshall, and during the struggle, one [shot fired]. Several witnesses testified to having heard Marshall scream that he was shot." As Marshall retreated, "Wrenn took the gun into the pool hall, tossed it across the bar to Casey and said laughingly: 'Here's a gun I just took away from that fellow.'" (*2)

But Fred Marshall was not done.