If newspaper reviews are any indication, “The Power of Silence” (the sixth movie made in Prescott) was the best one Lubin produced there in 1912. After reading the glowing critiques and lively descriptions, one is left only to lament its loss.
If newspaper reviews are any indication, “The Power of Silence” (the sixth movie made in Prescott) was the best one Lubin produced there in 1912. After reading the glowing critiques and lively descriptions, one is left only to lament its loss.
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| (Courtesy Tim Gronek) |
Originally, the Plaza “gazebo” (as many call it today) was the Prescott Bandstand. It was constructed in 1895 and has enjoyed a rich and colorful history—even at its genesis. The June 26 issue of the Weekly Journal-Miner reported: “The construction of the bandstand on the Plaza has not had a very quieting effect on the nerves of Loske and Shultz, who have been convicted of the murder of McNary. The other prisoners told them that it was the gallows scaffold which was being erected, right in plain view of them.”
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| Ad for the saloon where the trouble started. |
It all started with a good old-fashioned bar fight. It was midday, June 12, 1878. Deputy Sheriff James C Burnett heard a commotion inside Frank Smith’s saloon. He entered and found that a man only known as Setwright was arguing with another named Tom Farrell. As Burnett entered, Setwright twice struck Farrell over the head with a bottle, shattering it in the process. Burnett quickly broke up the fight and arrested Setwright.
However, the incident would grow into two murders and a lynching, and, at one point, 75 Gillette citizens were blamed for the killing of a peace officer.
What did the first pioneers eat? Basically, whatever they could get their hands on! Fortunately, Yavapai County’s diverse ecosystem includes many fruits that grow in the wild. Here is a listing with pictures and the lore surrounding their medicinal uses:
Many who are familiar with Prescott history are aware of the Great Fire, which occurred on July 14, 1900, and destroyed Whiskey Row. However, twelve years earlier, there was another great fire that wiped out Cortez Street.
It all started with an ill-fated plan to blow the safe at TW Otis’ store. The burglars entered the establishment, under the cover of darkness, shortly after midnight on July 1st, and planted some dynamite around the store’s safe. Concerned that the noise from the blast would sound an alarm, the would-be thieves covered the safe with burlap gunny sacks. They then lit the fuse and scurried out of the building to avoid injury.
1870 dawned with the usual optimism of a new year in Prescott, but underneath lay a sense of anxiety. The first edition of the 1870 Weekly Arizona Miner wrote: “Our inveterate foes—the Indians— have been on their good behavior for a number of weeks past, and have not recommenced hostilities, hereabouts. But judging from the fact that they have commenced swarming around many settlements, we fear that, ere long, they will commence their business of killing and plundering, and we advise our people to be on the lookout for them.”
The newspaper would have done well to tell its readers not to travel alone and double their herders. For it was the Indians' strategy to begin a campaign of ambushing lone travelers and lightly guarded stock.