Todd Towne discusses the history of carbide lamps and the challenges as a collector.

In the beginning miners had only candles and oil wick lamps to light their way, but after the accidental discovery of carbide in the 1860’s and subsequent use in lamps for bicycles, the first carbide lamp for miners was patented in 1900 using the new technology. Over the ensuing two decades, a thriving industry of over 90 manufacturers sprang up in the wake of this new technology. Although the electric lamp would replace carbide lamps by 1923, the nearly 25 year period of carbide lighting for miners produced a vast array of lamp designs and manufacturers which became a part of America’s history and a visible legacy to the early days of mining.

Stearig Wax candles used to be the Miner's only source of light

Thousands of carbide lamps which were designed and patented by their inventors and cherished by the miners who relied on them have become highly collectible to mining aficionados. They are sought after not only for their indelible imprint on mining history but for the vast amount of energy and ingenuity which went into their design and production.

Todd Town, who is a Globe native, and grew up in the mining industry where his dad and grandfather had an asbestos mine until 1973, began his journey as a collector, because of his dad who started out with a small collection of carbide lamps which sat on a shelf. Soon both father and son were haunting antique shops and flea markets to see who could find the most unique lamp.

Nearly 30 years later Todd Town’s collection puts him in the top tier of serious collectors and his inventory of mining lamps numbers in the hundreds. Dozens of his lamps are featured in Dave Thorpe’s definitive book on the subject, “ Carbide Light, The Last Flame in American Mines.”

The value of mining lamps varies with their age and manufacturer, with prices ranging from just a couple bucks for a common lamp in fair condition to upwards of $10,000 or more for a rare lamp in mint condition. Also highly collectible are Miner’s candlesticks which preceded carbide lamps and were used before 1900 by mostly Western hard rock miners.

At the Old Dominion Mine, for instance, miners were given ten stearig candles for their ten hour day deep underground. Unlike the Eastern coal miner who used oil wick lamps and moved around though out the mine, those in the West generally established one working area and would hang their candle on a rock ledge or in a piece of wood. The fact that the company provided the candles for the Western hard rock miner was an added benefit which the Eastern miners did not enjoy.

The candlestick holders themselves evolved over time from simple designs to those quite ornate. Town explained that back in their hey day, a common design might sell for seventy-five cents, while an ornate candle incorporating a fuse cutter and entailing some engraving might sell for as much as $3 – $4.

Todd Towns' "C.Cleves" folding Candlestick

Town said he got his best candlestick in Globe from a miner who had worked the Iron Cap in Copper Hill which was active in the ‘20s. The man had called Town and said he had a folding candle stick, but it took him a month to get around to looking because he didn’t believe the guy really had anything special.

“But the minute I walked in and saw it on the coffee table, I knew. He had a C. Cleves sitting there.” Cleves, who was a metal worker in the late 1800’s was well known for the quality and design of his work. His candlestick for miners included a swivel bar fuse and cap cutter. Today, the C. Cleves sits among Town’s other pieces;  a true prize in a sea of prizes.

He tells the story of a friend  who bought a candle stick in Colorado made by John Cox – a prisoner in Canyon City Colorado in the late 1800’s to early 1900’s. Cox was known for his fancy spurs, but also turned his talent to producing ornate miner’s candlesticks which are highly prized today. His friend paid $12,000 for the one he found in Colorado, and  before he got home, Town says, he had offers from other collectors for $30,000.

Candlesticks were a matter of pride with miners and a primary light source up to the early 1900’s, when the discovery and development of carbide lamps eliminated the market for candles. Today, these old, and highly collectible ornate candle stick holders are still given as prestigious retirement gifts to mining engineers and managers.

“Presentation candlesticks are like a service pen,” explains Town. “The workmanship on some of them is unbelievable!” Many are hand made, and involve intricate scrolled designs reminiscent of custom Japanese swords.

When carbide was discovered accidentally in 1862, it was the beginning of a new way to light the world. In seems in an attempt to make metallic calcium, a young inventor by the name of Thomas Wilson, unexpectedly produced calcium carbide. Coal tar and lime were placed in an electric furnace, and the resulting melt, when placed in water, was found to produce a flammable gas, later identified as acetylene.

It wasn’t until the Baldwin Company, who had used carbide in their bicycle lamps, designed 2 lamps for use in underground mining in 1900, that others quickly followed suit. Soon, there were over 90 manufacturers of carbide mining lamps with names such as Guy’s Dropper, Auto-Lite, Justrite, Maple Leaf, Acme and ITP.

This ad for a Justrite Lamp was published in 1916

In fact, the lamp which is shown on the cover of the Local Pages phone book this year is made by ITP, which stands for “It’s Trouble Proof.”  Made by the Dewar Mfg. Company, the lamp used a patented automatic water feed. It’s name may have been appropriated from a Justrite advertisement which used that marketing phrase, but it was Dewar who patented the name in 1916.

Old Advertisements from the early part of the Century carefully detail the design and unique features of each lamp and underscore the point that, although the process was simply, using just water and carbide, the delivery of that system gave wing to literally hundreds of designs.

The history of the lamps themselves and the men and manufacturers who helped to change an industry, is a facinating look at true American “Can Do” ingenuity which marked the first part of this Century.

Local author, caver and collector, Dave Thorpe, spent years researching and compiling a vast body of material on this subject before publishing “Carbid Light: The Last Flame in American Mines” in 2005. Just 3 years later he published a companion book, “Beneath the Surface: Inventors and Marketeers of the Miner’s Carbide Light.”  His books are considered a collectors’ bible on the subject and offer both the serious collector and curious reader a comprehensive look at this part of America’s mining industry.

Senator Hardt and Rose Mofford

August Valentine “Bill” Hardt was a champion of rural Arizona, a hardworking long-time legislator who got things done. After a variety of jobs, including vacuum cleaner salesman, road grader, underground miner, and sporting goods store owner, Hardt entered local politics in the 1950s and the state legislature in the 1960s. Eventually, he dedicated more than thirty years of service to Arizona’s rural citizens. He claimed that a guardian angel sent him to Arizona instead of California, and those who have benefited from his legislation would agree.

The Early Days…
Hardt was born in 1906 on a farm in south central Texas, on the outskirts of Hondo, just west of SanAntonio. His grandparents on both sides were part of a large wave of German immigrants who came to the Republic of Texas in the early 1840s, back when it was still an independent nation. Their farm wasn’t that far from Mexico, so Hardt said by his first day of school he spoke more German and Spanish than he did English. In his autobiography, what he remembered most was the hard work: chopping weeds, pulling cotton,milking cows, feeding chickens the work was dawn to dusk and never done. Even when he was young, Hardt thought to himself, “I want to get away from all of this and do something else.”

As he showed a talent for studies, Hardt was sent off to live with various aunts and uncles so that he could go to high school. He did well in school, and even won a prize in a speech contest. After high school, Hardt got a job at a San Antonio laundry. He played right field for the company baseball team, alongside a young soldier named Dizzy Dean. Of course, Dizzy went on to become a star pitcher for the Cardinals, Cubs, and Browns, and then one of the country’s most popular sports announcers from the 1940s through the 1960s. From there, Hardt used his gift for gab to sell vacuum cleaners door to door in Colorado and Nebraska. In his autobiography, Hardt said that was an important phase of his life, because that’s when he changed his name.

One day he went for a walk and wound up at a free dinner and show for young people at the Methodist church. Hardt said when he told him he was from Texas and his name was August Hardt, the M.C. shouted, “No, no Texan is named August. This is Wild Bill Hardt from Texas,” like the cowboy movie star William S. Hart. The name caught on with all his new friends, so he figured, “why not?” and started signing his name A. V. “Bill” Hardt, much to the surprise of his German kinfolk back in Texas.

Working the CCC camps…

Not long after that, the Great Depression hit, and no one was buying; so Hardt headed back to San Antonio. Walking down a Bandera street one day in Bandera, Texas, he said a “guardian angel” walked up to him and told him about the CCC, the Civilian Conservation Corps. Hardt enlisted on April 20th, 1933. Everyone thought they were going to California, but when the train got to the station at Bowie, Arizona, the orders had changed. They were transferred to a smaller train, and were on their way to Globe. Their first camp was at the J. K. Ranch, near Pinto Creek, about ten miles from Miami. The Miami camp was a mixture of local and out-of-town boys who worked with shovels, trucks, and bulldozers to create ForestService roads in the White Mountains. That summer they were moved to Los Burros Camp, near Pinetop. Hardt said the town had six saloons and two dance halls, and a permanent population was not much more than twenty. The new camp was headquarters for the “cat skinners” who operated caterpillar tractors. One Sunday, some of the CCC young men decided they’d go to Sunday school in McNary, and that’s where Hardt met his wife, Athia. After their first meeting, the young Texan said she managed to show up everywhere he went. Soon afterwards, they got married in Holbrook, and the newlyweds spent their honeymoon at the Wigwam Motel. When working on roads got too cold, a friend told Hardt that the mines were hiring in Globe.

Coming to Globe…

Bill Hardt in front of his Unique Sporting Goods Store which was a fixture in downtown Globe for nearly 30 years.

After staying in a boarding house in Lower Miami, Hard cashed his first check, rented a house on Mesquite Street, and sent for his wife and their new daughter, Kathy. They were out of the cold, but a layoff at the mines now threatened their livelihood. Hardt had a lot of ambition though, and was sharp enough to land on his feet every time. This time it was an unusual opportunity for a man who would eventually win many awards for public service. Even as a teenager, Hardt said he could I could never pass up a bet. So when Globe Smoke House owner Tom Wanslee offered a job as a card dealer, it seemed only natural to take what he could get. Soon he was making more than he had as mucker at the mine, and was able to send for Athia, who had been sent to her parents’ home in McNary after the layoff. Now she would bring their daughters Kathy, and a new arrival, three-week-old Hazel Jo to their home in Globe. Not long after that, Hardt got a letter from Inspiration Copper inviting him back. He was doing so well as a dealer he almost turned them down, but Wanslee convinced him that dealing cards was no job for a family man. Hardt soon got promoted to timber man at the mines, building support frames for underground tunnels, and even got trapped in a cave-in once. The next time the Inspiration mine shut down, the now-skilled Hardt was able to go right to work for the Miami Copper Company.

Hardt began working on contract with Miami, which meant long hours, but lots more profit. By 1946 he was earning top wages, plus bonuses. Hardt’s namesake, August Valentine Hardt Jr., was born in 1940, followed by the youngest Hardt, Athia Lee, in 1948. Away from work, Hardt bought a lot and hired a crew to help him build a house at 1089 Oak Street. Bill’s gaunt appearance prompted the head of mine operations,a British “Cousin Jack” named Joe Harris, to warn Hardt that he was in danger of working himself to death.Once again, Hardt got a lucky break. He overheard someone balk at the price for Wanslee’s place, and snapped it up before the original buyer could make up his mind. Then he bought the nearby barber shop and beauty parlor, and even started a loan business, but eventually the card games and pool tables gave way to sporting goods. Hardt said he had always been an ardent fisherman and big game hunter, and his idea to sell equipment and supplies was “an instant hit.” He opened Unique Sporting Goods where the store the Unique Loan Company had been. Hardt said that from the day he opened in 1953, the sporting goods store never failed to grow, so he dropped the other businesses to focus on the best enterprise.
By that time, Hardt had been getting a lot of experience with public speaking from his involvement in the Lions Club, Knights of Pythias, Oddfellows, and Elks. The club men were community leaders, and Hardt said that when he was elected mayor, five of the six city councilmen were members of the Pythian Order. Hardt got into politics in the late 1950s because of his ability to work out differences among Gila County Democrats. He was elected to the Globe City Council in 1958, and the council asked him to run for mayor in 1960. Public services were his main concern, taking action to ensure an adequate water supply for Globe. After eight years in Globe politics, Hardt ran for the Arizona House of Representatives. The Democrats had a strong organization in Gila County, and he said his daughter Athia Lee worked hard in the Young Democrats. When Senator Clarence Carpenter passed away, Hardt ran for his seat in District 4, and remained there for almost three decades. John Gregovich was the mining companies’ favorite in that election, but he dropped out and Hardt won. Writing about Gregovich in his autobiography, Hardt said, “He was a real gentleman, not a rough-neck like me.”

Bill Hardt and Mo Udall

At this time many people became concerned about living conditions and health issues of the farm workers. Hardt said more active Democrats often had to team up against old line party leaders, such as Senator Harold Giss, in order to pass socially responsible legislation.Voters kept sending him back to the Capitol, and Hardt eventually became chairman of the Senate Appropriations committee. There he worked hard to pass bills for new prisons and dams in rural areas, as well as funding for jobs for young people in the summer. Hardt remembered one time when Governor Bruce Babbitt got very angry with him. “He called me a ‘stubborn old bastard’ and almost ran out of the office. Fifteen minutes later, he was back. He just stuck his head in the door and yelled, ‘I mean that respectfully, sir.’” Hardt had a reputation as being a fighter for the rural areas, especially for jobs and improvements. Hardt’s move to put prisons in rural counties was unheard of at that time. It met with opposition, but he persevered, and Winslow was the first to benefit. The former Route 66 town had fallen on hard times when Interstate 40 bypassed them, and the railroad closed their offices there. He also helped his home town of Globe with a correction center. Hardt was proud of his accomplishments, saying, “I’m happy to have taken part in bringing forth these economic benefits.”

Cartoon by Az Republic cartoonist, Steve Benson, upon Hardt's retirement at age 90.

According to Hardt, the most important legislation he was able to pass relieved homeowners from taxation.Finally, after several failed attempts, he changed the wording so that it only applied to those over 65 and with limited incomes. It still failed several times, but when Tucson Senator Douglas Holsclaw and others from the Republican majority began to back it, the bill finally passed in 1980.

In addition, Hardt helped increase rural employment by funding Shoen Dam to prevent flooding in Navajo County, repairing Lyman Dam and River Lake Dam in Apache County, and providing financial aid to help rural counties pay for AHCCCS (state health care). As an avid sportsman, he also supported game and fish projects throughout his legislative career, and acquired funding for colleges in Payson and Thatcher. A team player, Hardt acknowledged the mutual support of representatives Polly Rosenbaum, Jack Brown, and “Bunchie” Guerrero, among others, who all worked on each others’ bills to get them passed. At times, his Democratic colleagues may have wondered about the accolades he received from Republican legislators, “but they also know that I never voted against any of their bills that were reasonable, and I always stood with the Democrats on every bill when they took a caucus stand,” Hardt said.
During Hardt’s last term in the legislature, Rusty Bowers was commissioned by the Arizona Mining Association, to do a bronze bust of Senator Bill Hardt and placed it on the third floor of the Senate building. But perhaps the highest honor, the one that would keep his name forever in the minds of those in he served, came in 2004. That is when the stretch of Highway 188 between U.S. Highway 60 and State Route 87 was officially named Senator Hardt Highway. The dedication ceremonies were attended by former Governor Rose Mofford and longtime Arizona legislator Polly Rosenberg, then 102 years old. By the time he passed away in 2001, Hardt’s life spanned the most rapidly changing time in U.S. history, from the beginning of the industrial era, through two world wars and the Great Depression, to man walking on the moon. He held a wide variety of jobs and positions, and was never afraid of a hard day’s work. “Having worked in the lumber camps, the copper mines and finally my own business, the Unique Sporting Goods store in Globe, gave me an insight that helped me to relate to the needs of the people of my district,” Hardt said when he retired in 1996, taking with him the title that fit him best, “Mr. Rural Arizona.”

By: John Michael

( contributing excerpts, and all photos, courtesy of Danilo Gurovich,)

For many years the Reader’s Digest featured an article entitled, “ My Most Unforgettable Person.” For me it was always a toss up between reading this article or doing the Word Power Test, with Word Power usually being the winner.  Whenever  I read one of these stories I always found myself having been raised in the local area wondering how anyone could have known just one unforgettable person.

My own memories are flooded with many faces whom I believe to be unforgettable.

But of all the people and all the stories which make up the fabric of our community, there is one who stands out as the most memorable to me. Danko Gurovich and his signature establishment, The Copper Hills, helped to put Globe-Miami on the map.

The story begins in Miami with two men…and a dream.

As a motorcycle cop in Miami, Danko Gurovich would often meet up with his friend, Dr. Chuck Collopy and share a Dutch Lunch from Fernandez Grocery. They would sit and talk about a first class restaurant and lounge to serve the local area. Although the two men were worlds apart- both economically and culturally – they shared a passion for this subject and when the Auto Grande Motor Court property was put up for sale, the two men, along with Les Woodburn bought the place. Les’s shares would later be gought by Kenny Hoops who ran a huge Lime Kiln in Wheatfields.

The partnership with Hoops later dissolved when Kenny came into Danko’s newly renovated office mad about the amount of money spent. He stuck his finger out at Danko, and -quick as you please- Danko came from behind the desk, and planted his ‘52-Buick-Grille-sized fist in his chin knocking him to the ground. Hoops was bought out shortly afterwards.

Danko’s immersion into the motel business struggled for several years until he was introduced to Peter Wurtz, who managed Best Westerns in the State. Realizing he needed a partner, Danko was glad to accept Wurtz’ invitation to become part of the Best Western family and his motel business became quite successful as a result.

Danko Gurovich and John Wayne (Photo courtesy of Danilo Gurovich)

The project was a major undertaking and local bankers were hesitant to provide loans. Of course, it didn’t help that right about the same time, the Miami Copper Company, after nearly a half century of operating an underground mine, was closing down operations. The closure meant a loss of over 400 jobs and an annual payroll of nearly 2 million. Despite the setback in the local economy and the banks’ refusal to back the project, Danko secured the money from eleven local investors.

Danko started out with seven thousand dollars and a bag full of promissory notes. While most of the note holders understood the difficulties which the mine closure placed on their fledgling investment and were willing to wait for their money, some wanted out.

As Danilo, Danko’s son tells the story, “ A local Miami businessman, and one of the smaller investors wanted to call in his loan. Dad’s office at that time was about 8ft by 14ft long. Quite tiny. There were about eleven creditors and he owed this gentleman the least – about $1200. Dad went down and bought a hunting rifle and laid it across his desk, and then called all the creditors into the tiny office. With the gun out in plain view, he said “Every one of you is going to get paid, but I will kill the first son of a bitch that goes down to the bank and calls in my note. I’m telling you right here. I will shoot you dead.” Most of these guys knew Dad from his days as John Welch’s protege and there was little doubt he would do it. Nobody went down to the bank, and the Miami businessman who everyone knew the threat was directed at, didn’t speak much to my dad after that, but was paid in full with interest.”

After several years the business did start making money as Danko predicted, and in appreciation for that early support, Danko and his wife Maxine, opened up their home and hosted a feast for their investors, patrons and friends. They chose, January 7th – the Feast of Serbian Christmas, and this became a tradition which spanned nearly twenty-five years.

Maxine & Danko Gurovich

The Copper Hills began to attract the attention of many around the State as the “first class destination” which Danko and Dr. Collopy had envisioned. There was just one eye sore in their way. It was Hinkey Hobbs Spud Nut Cafe which sat on one end of the property (where Vonnie’s Pizza is now). Hobbs had a lease which he refused to give up, despite Danko’s efforts to negotiate, plead or litigate an early end to the lease.

The building which can only be described as an ‘awful orange shack’ was in stark contrast to the rest of the Copper Hills property including the motel, restaurant and lounge. Danko planned for the day the lease ran out on Hobbs and he could be rid of the Spud Nut Cafe. According to Danilo, “ Dad had called the Miami Volunteer Fire department the day before and set up a “practice” fire. At one minute after midnight, as Hobbs was hauling the last of his equipment out, Danko was running in with a Jerry can full of gasoline, and put a match to it. It burned with such intensity that the next day the sign on the east end of the motel was scorched black and had to be re-painted.”

The Copper Hills hosted several well known businesses on the grounds. Willard Shoecraft, the force behind the ever-popular KIKO radio had offices in the motel lobby from the beginning. When he moved on in the 70’s, nearly 20 years later, Danko renovated the offices and made them into a Women’s lounge and expanded his office nearly three times it’s original size.

Other businesses included Joe Cubitto, who moved his jewlry store from Miami into a space which had been built especially for him and Mr. Bowlin of Bowlin’s Running Indian Git Shops.

Ted DeGrazia graces the Copper Hills with a Mural

The “worlds most reproduced artist”, Ted DeGrazia was born in Morenci, but spent alot of time in the area. Although the exact meeting has been lost to history, Danko knew DeGrazia and enjoyed a friendship which began sometime in the ‘30s.  It was Danko who introduced the artist to another good friend and Miami native, Raymond Carlson.

"We were sitting here in the booth watching him and his assistant, and I finally had to say something," she recalls. "I said, `Listen, De Grazia--you're going to get too damn many stars up there if you're not careful.' Well, the more tequila they drank, the more they painted." Pointing her cigarette at the mural--the right side of the painting resembles a Day-Glo meteor shower--Purlia smiles. "And let me tell you, they went right ahead and put in more damn stars." Olga Purlia in the Phnx New Times

Carlson was the publisher and editor of the Arizona Highways Magazine for many years. The introduction would prove valuable to the artists’ career. In 1941, the magazine first published DeGrazia’s work, and helped to secure his future.

It was on one of their road trips in 1954, just before the Copper Hills opened, that Carlson and DeGrazia stopped to visit Danko. DeGrazia decided to do a painting for the back bar, and as the story goes, did it for a case of Tequila. He was reportedly so drunk at the time he forgot to sign it. It would be 1979 before DeGrazia made it back to the Copper Hills to add a few touches…and sign the painting.

(Another twist .. by the Phnx New Times)

This mural was lost forever, when a fire destroyed the Copper Hills in 2001.

The Copper Hills became known Statewide as “Danko’s Place.”

The word began to spread around the State about this place called Copper Hills, but two men in particular – each who had established their own substantial reputations – helped to expand Danko’s rolodex of contacts and soon Copper Hills became known statewide as “Danko’s Place”.

Jack Durant, who is without a doubt the most famous restaurateur in the history of Arizona, would always stop at Danko’s place on his way to his home in Pinetop and he always made a point of this fact upon his departure from Phoenix. Jack, who traveled with his dogs, was the only person outside of Danko’s good friend Mike Buha who was ever allowed to bring their dogs into the lounge of the Copper Hills.

And, Jake Fernandez, also a local boy and one of the people who worked for the development of the Pinetop area, made sure those from the Valley who built homes in Pinetop knew about Danko’s place for it was about the half way point on their trip North.

John Wayne and Danko….

One of Danko’s closest friendships was with John Wayne who happened upon Globe-Miami during a business deal. It seems Wayne, who had invested in a cotton farm near Casa Grande was having a problem turning a profit. In fact, the venture was loosing money. So Wayne called his business manager and told him to find the best and most successful cotton farmer. After a few days, his manager called back and advised the Duke that the most successful cotton farmer in the country owned the farm right next door.

As the story goes, the Duke called Louis Johnson, and told him he wanted to make him a business proposition regarding his cotton farm. He said he was sending his plane that coming weekend to fly out to the West Coast to talk it over.  Johnson, who didn’t like to fly, responded, “If you want to talk to me, I’ll send my plane to pick you up.”

It turned out to be one of the most successful business relationships in the history of Arizona. So good in fact the Duke invested in Johnson’s 26Bar ranch -Cattle and Feed operations.  The Ranch had an operation in Springerville which necessitated trips through Miami and Johnson, who stopped at the Copper Hills regularly, introduced the Duke on one of these trips.

It didn’t take long for Danko and John Wayne to discover they both loved to play cards and talk politics and form a friendship that was to last a lifetime.  A friendship which include many ‘friendly pranks” right from the beginning.

One of the earliest was simply a case of mistaken identity. It seems Danko hadn’t bothered to tell Maxine, his wife, that he had recently met John Wayne. So very early one morning not long after they had struck up their friendship, Maxine answered the phone and then handed it to Danko, saying, “there’s some drunk on the phone claiming to be John Wayne.”

Thus began those early morning calls to see who would find who still in bed.

The unforgettable legacy of a generous man

I have always felt it was a shame that more of the residents of his home town didn’t know more about his good deeds and charitable endeavors. I was once sitting in his office and asked him why he thought it to be OK for people to think he would rather take the shirt off their back than give them the one off his back, he responded by laying back in his chair laughing and said, “Damn kid, it’s good for business.”

Danko Gurovich worked as a motorcycle cop in Miami for John Welch

Yet, Danko Gurovich was a generous man; to his friends, his community and pure strangers. There was a time when a family broke down in his parking lot across the street. He went to investigate, and shortly afterwards brought the family back to his place, checked them into a room, called the owner of a local car dealership who sent two men over to fix the car. It was the transmission. They explained they didn’t have one in stock, but they did have a car on the lot with a similar transmission, so they offered to pull that one and install it in this family’s car.. if Danko would agree to buy a new one to replace it. He agreed. And the transmission was installed. When the mechanics returned the car in good running order several hours later they advised Danko that it also needed new tires. So, the next morning, Danko had new tires put on, and the coffee shop made up a large box of food.

It would be many years later before a very attractive young woman presented herself at the desk of the Copper Hills, asking for Danko. She had a small cart of books for him. She was the daughter of the people he had helped that night. She told him, they had reached her Grandmother before she died thanks to him. She had been told by her father that Danko would not accept payment, but knew he liked to read. She hoped he would accept her gift.

Mrs. Cheves, who was greatly respected and loved in the community, said it best of the man when she said of Danko’s success, “The most successful man you will ever meet is the one who at the end of their life has the love and respect of his children. You understand,” she went on to say ,” the love is almost always a given. But the respect? That’s another story.”

A rare photograph of the interior of the dining room at Copper Hills. Notice the 'chandeliers'

By most standards of success, Danko ran all three bases.

But by Mrs. Cheeves, he had hit a home run with all three bases loaded.”

Danko’s House Dressing at Copper Hills compliments of Danilo Gurovich/ As the Dude Abides

There are storied moments in history which shine light on those who made history and those who remember it long past the actual event. The Dream Team of 1951 made up of  mostly Mexican kids from Bullion Plaza led by Vandals Coach Ernie Kivisto created many magic moments during that season which still resonates nearly 60 years later with the re-telling.

Playwright and journalist, James E. Garcia of the New Carpa Theater was introduced to the story by Robert Revelas ( who graduated in 1951 from Miami) nearly two years ago.

“He was familiar with my work and invited me to Miami to look around. We knew there was a story here.” The two ended up at the Miami Sports Hall of Fame- housed in the Miami Library.  In a sea of awards and accolades which have been heaped on Miami coaches and players over the last fifty years, it was the ’51 Season of the Mighty Vandals which stood out in Garcia’s mind. “This is the story I wanted to tell,” he says. “It is about perseverance… and going against the odds to achieve.”

The story takes place in 1951, just three years before the Supreme Court ruled on school segregation, and here in Globe-Miami, Bullion Plaza Elementary was the school for mostly Mexican American and Apache kids. They came from “less than privileged” backgrounds and were used to playing with hand me down uniforms and shoes.

It wasn’t until Coach Kivisto fought to get the team new uniforms and new shoes that many of the kids put on “new” for the first time in their life. As one player recounts, playing sports was “…a good way to keep our minds off how poor we were.” No doubt the kids from Miami were athletic.

There had been Vandal success stories before Kivisto arrived in ’48, but it was Kivisto’s new style of basketball involving “The Fast Break,” and his ability to pull his players together into one smooth scoring machine which helped push the Dream Team to break all State Records that year. Even their own.

James Garcia and his New Carpa players put on a shortened version for a group of Globe-Miami school kids at the Hersberger Theater.

On their way to the class B State Championship that year they inspired accolades from the community, sports writers and even big city sportswriters who scrambled to come up with new superlatives to describe the players and their amazing performances on the courts.

This was a team which consistently beat others by 40-50 points and averaged nearly 85 points per game. And at a time when coaches could be fired for loosing too many games, Coach Kivisto and his boys were instead criticized by some for winning too much and scoring too many baskets against the other team. In fact, in a pre-game lead up to the Clifton game, the team received “ two anonymous letters threatening violence if Acevedo and Truijillo shot over 15 pts in the game.” A Sheriff’s detail followed the team that night to the game and the Mighty Vandals won over their #2 rival Clifton: 122 – 58.

It wasn’t all about basketball though with Coach Kivisto. He coached them off the court as well and required all of his players to wear a suit and tie on game day. If they couldn’t afford those things he paid for them out of his own pocket. He fought for new uniforms – silky rayon, not cotton, and the team was the first in the League to play in white high-top tennis shoes. Kivisto wanted them looking like the all-star team he knew them to be.

Years later Kivisto said of the 1951 team, “ The 1951 Miami High School team was without a doubt the best high school team I have ever seen or coached, even today. They would fast break any team I have ever seen, coached or will ever coach. I shall always be thankful for that great opportunity to coach such a dedicated group of fine boys…I was fortunate to be at Miami when I was blessed with the finest, dedicated talent any coach could ever ask for.”

The ’51 Season has been recorded in numerous articles and in 2008 Sony Pena, compiled and authored a book which pulled together all the press clippings of that amazing season entitled: “The Might Miami Vandals.” It is available through the Miami Public Library and the Hispanic Institute of Social Issues.

But it is James Garcia and his New Carpa Theater Co. which is bringing the story to life on the stage. The New Carpa Theater which was formed by Garcia, focuses on Latino and multicultural theater works. Last September, he produced a one-hour play for the lunch theatre at the Hersberger Theater Center in Phoenix. Using just  7 actors, the play deftly conveys the story of this remarkable team and their coach.

Kivisto was a coach who taught them “the importance of teamwork in competitive sports and that sports belonged to everyone.” The message was clear. Basketball was a way of leveling the playing field for kids who came from a less-privileged life with working class parents. Kivisto was a coach who cared about those things that matter most in life: Heart and Hustle. And he found both in the kids from Miami.

This is a story worth the re-telling again and again and James Garcia and his New Carpa players are doing just that. Garcia hopes to premier the full length version of the play this Fall Miami if he can find the right venue to handle a crowd…because anyone knows that when you bring The Mighty Vandals to town, you’ve got to be prepared for a packed house!

Local Author,  Sonny Pena published “The Mighty Miami Vandals” which compiles all of the newspaper clippings of the Kivisto years and that amazing ’51 season. You can see an excellent book review at The Book Bank - Blog.

Christine Marin has also published an excellent account of those years with Kivisto entitled, “Courting Success and Realizing the American Dream: Arizona’s Mighty Miami High School Championship Basketball Team, 1951.
It is available on-line as a PDF at gmteconnect.com/Mighty Vandals.

Side Bar:

Kivisto introduced his players to a new style of play called the “Fast Break” – something the Phoenix Suns today are known for today – but back then Kivisto was the first high school basketball coach in the state of Arizona to initiate the fast break and the “weave”, or “figure 8” on the court. Combined with his kids athletic ability and determination, the 1951 Vandals broke all kinds of national records that year including:

Had 3 time outs to opponents 125 in 27 games
Scored 970 points in 10 home games for an average of 97 per game
Average of 84.7 in 27 games to break former average of 70.1-set by Miami in 1948
In 27 games outscored the opponents by an average of 40 points per game.

“Former East Aurora coach Ernie Kivisto — to his dying day — insisted the shot came after time expired. It remains vivid in East-West lore, however. West went on to place third in the state.”  Quoted in Tulsa Daily Herald in 2007 .

Arizona Highways will be doing a feature piece in their August issue on historic schools throughout the state . Photographer, Richard Mack was in town yesterday to photograph Bullion Plaza in Miami which now serves as a cultural center and museum.  The school was “…opened in 1923 as a segregated school for Mexican and Indian children in the area. It became a place of pride and through the efforts of many,evolved from a close-minded,segregated school system, to one of equality and opportunity.  (See our piece on the Mighty Vandals of 1951) .

The school was abandoned in 1994 and later purchased by the town of Miami for $75,685 in 1997. Then mayor, Joe Sanchez, appointed a committee to determine the future use of the building and in July of that year, it was decided to establish a Cultural center and Museum.

In April 2009, the museum was awarded a $2000 grant, thanks to the efforts of Tom Foster and Cynthia Bach who submitted the grant application to the program known as “Wings Like Eagles.” This allowed the museum to enhance many of the mining, and ranching displays and begin to develop more areas within the facility for public displays etc.

The Fall of 2009 saw the “…completion of a five-year effort by the Museum to remove and replace the deteriorated roof of the main Bullion Plaza School

building. Thanks to Congressman Ed Pastor, the Museum received two Housing and Urban development grants in 2004 and 2005 totaling $146,716 which, combined with hundreds of hours of volunteer labor enabled the museum to replace/repair the roof.

The Museum is listed on the National Register of Historic Places and hosts First Fridays, a program of speakers who give talks on the people and culture of this region.

“To the living Apache of Arizona, New Mexico and Oklahoma- 
In sorrow at what they lost, and awe at what they saved.” 

So begins the account by David Roberts of the Apaches of the Southwestern Deserts. It is one of the best accounts of the resiliency and strategic brilliance of the Apache leaders including: Cochise, Geronimo, Victorio, Mangus and others. Roberts does not mince words in describing the atrocities that occurred during this dark period. His accounts are well researched and written in a style which puts you on the same playing field as the Apaches. Faced with a much larger, well equipped enemy, the leaders did what others have done before. They defined guerrilla warfare. And in doing so, they succeeded against great odds. Shepherding their bands of women,children and elderly from harm and fighting major skirmishes with only a few warriors. In the end, the encroachment of whites into the territory was overwhelming. But one cannot help but feel as Roberts does…and be in awe of the Apache and what they preserved.

“Roberts has achieved near perfect focus upon a people and their times…A brilliant,poignant history.” Jeff Long,Chicago Tribune

Once they moved like the wind from Amazon.com.   You can also check out more books like this at The PickleBarrelTradingPost .

The Pickle Barrel Trading Post  and The Book Bank represent a wide variety of southwestern authors and subjects.

There is not enough darkness in the world to put out the light of even one small candle. ~ Robert Alden

The fight for equality began in North Carolina, in 1961, at a Woolworth. That day, four young black men demanded to be served lunch at a whites-only counter. The battle for civil rights also began in Montgomery, when a young woman refused to move to the back of the bus. It also started with the resulting bus boycott, led by a young man named Martin, who later marched into our nation’s capital and told the American people about his ‘Dream’.

Woolworths-UK-Wikipedia

The fight began again, eighteen days after that march on D.C., when four young girls were killed in a bomb explosion at a popular, black church. Its beginnings were also in 1962, when a young man named James Meredith enrolled in the University of Mississippi, causing riots so fierce, President Kennedy had to send 5,000 troops, all because one black man wanted to pursue an education. In May of 1963, guns, dogs and fire hoses were turned on protesters in Birmingham. This act was televised around the world, and not only was this day the beginning of the fight for civil rights; it was also a shameful and embarrassing moment for America, throughout the world.
In 1948, President Truman passed an Executive Order. “It is hereby declared to be the policy of the President that there shall be equality of treatment and opportunity for all persons in the armed services without regard to race, color, religion, or national origin.” This was the first day of the movement toward equality, and a response to the horrendous way the men who had served and died for their country were being treated by the very government they fought to protect. The military, this honorable institution, these Defenders of the Constitution had to be told that they were going to be held accountable for ignoring an Amendment that had been added to that same Constitution 80 years prior, the Amendment of justice for all.
I will forever be baffled at the ability for some to be able to ignore that, which they fight so hard to preserve, their own country’s Constitution.
Again…
The fight for equality began, but did not end, because of the Emancipation Proclamation. The Civil War, of which 200,000 black men fought and thousands died for their own freedom, was also the beginning of the movement.
The fight for equality began in the churches, the small towns and the larger cities. It began with that farmer, who refused to buy human beings, in the ship captains who refused to transport people like cattle and even in the landowners who paid fairly, treated humanely and never let the workers believe they couldn’t leave if they so choose. These people were instrumental in the cause itself, as was the Underground Railroad, the writings of the abolitionist and the work of communities like the Quakers, who chose to live the teachings of the Bible, rather than re-interpret it to fit their needs.
Where the fight also began, was in the fields and the farmhouses of America. It began in men and women who worked from first light until moonlight. It began in mothers who watched their children be shouted at by white women, men who watched their wives be whipped or worse, and wives who watched their husbands lower their heads, lower their voices and become submissive to a human being half their worth. The fight began in those first words of their prayers, the first jingle of their laughter and the first note of their songs.
These songs were called Spiritual Songs and Freedom Songs. They sang not only to praise God or remember their old lives, they sang about a new life, a new day in which they would be free. But they sang about something else as well. Their songs were messages, codes their fellow slaves. Songs informed about the Underground Railroad, nearby runaways, how to navigate by stars and one song even provided an ‘oral’ map of how to get to Canada. Songs told them what time of the year to run, as some rivers were only crossable in winter, when they had frozen over. These songs worked their way from plantation to plantation. They existed as both a means of survival and defiance.
That was when the movement began. When these men and women went against an unjust law, the only way they knew how. They put their lives on the line not because they thought things could change for them, in their circumstance, but because they knew that there had to be a better way for their children, and their children’s children. Every single person who fought, every marcher who walked and every speaker who shouted and stood for a moral cause, they are when the movement began.  Every worker who declined to ride a bus to work, every student who refused to move from a counter and ever man, woman and child who faced the clubs, the dogs and the hate just to cast a vote, eat a sandwich or walk to a classroom, these are all parts of the same movement.
Again…
For a man to wake up in the morning, put on his best clothes and step out his door knowing that today, his color may cost him his life, was a new beginning for the march toward moral justice. Every mother who sent her child into a world of people, who would hurt him at the drop of a hat, that moment, and each moment like it, was her first day of the march. The movement may have started so long ago, but the choice to either sit aside or to join in step, with conviction, toward a moral society, that is when the cause for good starts again and again.
Those four men who sat at that counter at Woolworth demanded to be seen as human beings. They sat, as small flames of resistance, in an America shadowed by the ignorance and hatred of racism. They only had the history of their ancestors behind them, the struggles and the fears of generations to comfort them. They had joined the march, little steps along a long road, but they were willing to take those steps. Today, inequality still exists in America, for minorities, homosexuals and women, but the march for justice continues to move forward. We can watch, and hope things change, or we can join in, and the moment you stand and say ‘ENOUGH’, that is the day the fight begins again.
The next day at that Woolworth, 25 students sat with them, soon it grew to 60. Within a few days, over 300 people in 70 establishments across the South were sitting in for their rights as citizens. Thousands performed sit-ins all across America. Libraries, swimming pools, movie theatres and parks saw a wave of defiance begin to turn the tide throughout this great land.
The most amazing part of the story is what Franklin McCain, one of the original four, tells happened that day. He says that as they sat there, having been refused service, an older white woman stood up and walked toward them. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen or what type of hate might spew forth.
I’m sure, by this time, they had learned that racism knows no age, sex or religious boundary. The man who goes to church on Sunday could just as well have been at a Klan meeting the night before. Racism was rampant and a source of pride, displayed in windows and on water fountains and shouted from the pulpit. But within so much fear and hate, what could sometimes seem like an overwhelming oppressive cloak of darkness, there are sometimes little flickers of light that shine through.
Mr. McCain, at that lunch counter, says that little old lady walked up to him, placed her hand on his shoulder, smiled and said, “Boys, I am so proud of you. I only regret that you didn’t do this ten years ago.”
And yet again…
And that moment was when the Civil Rights movement began again, for those boys, that woman, that town and this country. The movement begins again and again, every time we teach our children that race is not a factor, other religions are not to be feared and diversity should be celebrated. The movement begins again every time a woman demands equal pay, guilt is not assumed based on the color of the person or the clothes they wear and the right to marry who you love is celebrated, not voted against because of someone else’s definition of right or wrong.
This fight will never end. There will always be those who want to oppress others, because of their feelings of inadequacy or lack of self-worth, misinterpretation of their ‘values’ or just blatant ignorance.  Those in the minority will always face a battle of acceptance, and equality, will often be an uphill climb.
Of course, the wave of hate and fear toward diversity will dig in its heels. It may be hinted at in church, in the lunchroom or by the talking heads on television, and sometimes it will have the strength to even pull itself up to its knees. But in the end, those four boys, that elderly lady, those four little girls, the woman on the bus, the man who died outside that motel room and those who sang in the fields those many years ago, they are the army of lights moving us forward against the darkness.
Six months later, those original four men were served lunch at that same counter. The powers of the human spirit, to stand up for what is right, will always overcome ignorance and hate, every time. And I like to embrace the fact that eventually, flames become bonfires.
~ FIN ~

A reprint from an article submitted to GMT Fall ’07. It reflects the memories of growing up in Miami, and a close encounter with a famous “destination” known simply as “The Keystone.”

At a time when there were few jobs in town, especially for a 15 year old boy, Ryan-Evans Drug Store was hiring a stock boy that year. I had been told in no uncertain terms by my parents that they would not provide me with money, nor would they allow my grandmother to do so, and so I jumped at the opportunity to apply. Much to my surprise, I was selected for the job which paid 50 cents an hour and thus began my working career. I worked every night after school until 9 O’clock, all day Saturdays and 3 hours on Sundays.After several months on the job, Alan Robertson, store manager, decided I had enough intellectual ability to work both the floor and the fountain and he promoted me. Of course, this reduced the number of hours he had to pay the higher paid help.

The #5 store of Ryan Evans sat at the corner of Live Oak and Adonis avenue in Miami, and contained a Soda Fountain which was popular with folks. This, and the fact that Joe Ryan had negotiated an agreement with the Miami Copper Company to fill their employee’s prescriptions at cost plus 10% encouraged a constant stream of customers into the store. With the Miami Post office located right next door, many people would stop in for a cup of coffee or a coke after picking up their mail.

At the time, there was a group of regulars: leading businessmen, who would stop in every morning at 9am like clock work. They included Mork Schwartz of Schwartz Lumber Company, Cecil Trussell and Charlie Clark, Valley National Bankers, Maurice Case and Freda Miles of Miles Mortuary and very often Mr. Robertson, my boss, would join this little group.

Working the counter, and listening in to their conversation,  I learned more about the comings and goings in town, than through all the radios and newspapers. And on a regular basis one of the men would lean over and ask Freda Miller what Joe was recommending. Conversation would stop and all heads would turn for the answer. This little ritual perked my interest and I asked Mr. Robertson who this “Joe” was that everyone seemed to put so much store in what he had to say about the stock market.  Turns out it was Joe Refsnes, a former Valley National Banker, a relative of Sonny Mills and a founding partner of the investment firm of Refsnes, Ely, Beck and company which was one of the most important financial firms in the Southwest.

From that day forward whatever Freda said that Joe said……I did.

And that was not the only thing I learned about life while working the counter at Ryan-Evans. At the time there were two stores in Miami, and it was the #6 store, located on Sullivan Street (several block from my store), next to the Grand Theater, which served a different group of regulars. They were known by all as the “girls from the rooms” and they never set foot in the store before 8pm when respectable folks were safely ensconced into their homes. Store #6, was their favorite, not only because it was convenient to the Theater, but managers, John and Hazel East welcomed the business and enjoyed for many years, an almost exclusive un-spoken contract with the girls whose needs for high-end toiletries provided a good deal of revenue for the store..

But that all changed one year while I was still employed by store #5. It was because Johnny East, an avid bowler, almost always attended the Arizona State Bowling Championship Tournaments, which forced the Corporate Office of Ryan-Evans to send out a replacement pharmacist to cover his absence. One year, the replacement they sent was not only a pharmacist, but also a part-time preacher, and on his second day on the job, three ladies of the night , just after 8 O’Clock, came into the store to buy their wares. The part-time preacher/pharmacist recognized them for what they were immediately and with great disdain, ejected them from the store.

And that is how I came to meet the Ladies of the Night.

They walked over to store #5 where I was working the counter, and while I didn’t peg them as the “girls from the rooms”, I knew they didn’t look like members of Grandmothers Budge Club. That night they spent a nice sum of money in the store and left with a promise to come back. They did every night after that and became regular customers at store #5… much to the consternation of John and Hazel East.

……………………..To be Continued

This Fall we will bring you “the rest of the story” from John Michael and the “girls from the rooms” as well as a feature on The Keystone, one of the most famous bordellos in the State, which was closed down in 1967 when the manager had the audacity to place an ad in the local yellow pages and raised the ire of the good town-folk in the area who demanded the place be closed.

You can see the holiday spirit coming all the way from here to Christmas – Christmas, Arizona, that is. But you can’t go to Christmas any more, nor can you mail your holiday cards from the U.S. Post Office there, because it closed in 1935. For a state with such unusual locations as Big Bug, Bagdad, Gripe, and Snowflake (named after Erastus Snow and William Flake), it should come as no surprise that there once was a town called Christmas, Arizona. It all began when prospectors filed copper mining claims in the southern tip of the Dripping Springs Mountains about six miles northeast of Winkelman between 1878 and 1882.

But the land was inside the San Carlos Apache Indian Reservation, and it didn’t seem too promising at the time anyway. The mines were considered duds. However, as telephones and electric lights created demands for lower-grade copper wire in great quantities and Globe became a boom town, miners cast a new eye on passed-over claims. At the urging of mining entrepreneurs interested in Gila County claims, the United States Congress reduced the area of the San Carlos reservation in 1902, redrawing the borders to exclude the mineral-rich areas. According to Arizona Daily Star reporter David Wichner, one of these men, George B. Chittenden, set up a relay of horsemen so he would get the first news of the enactment from the nearest telegraph office in Casa Grande. This may be the same George Chittenden listed as owner of a gold quartz mill in Bear Creek, Mariposa County, California, in 1864. In any case, he knew the mining business well enough to understand that filing the first claim on the best prospects made all the difference. Chittenden learned about the newly opened land on Christmas Eve, and filed his claims on

Chittenden at Christmas, Az. Courtesy of the Arizona Historical Society

Christmas Day, which also happened to be his birthday. He became the first postmaster when a post office was established in Christmas on June 17, 1905. For more than twenty years, Christmas was a thriving little mining community on the banks of the Gila River with more than 1,000 residents, a church, a school, a barber shop, and even a hat shop. Every year during the holidays people from all over the country kept the post office busy stamping the official U.S. Post Office cancellation that read “Christmas” on their cards. The mines closed during the Depression when copper prices dropped, but re-opened in the 1940s and continued to open and close with the boom and bust cycle common to western mining. They finally closed for good in 1983, again because of plummeting copper prices. All that remains of the town now are holes dug into the mountainsides, concrete slabs that once supported heavy equipment, and a small graveyard. But you can’t even visit the remains of Christmas these days. Phelps Dodge acquired the property in 1999 and the sign on the locked gate stretched across the narrow dirt road says “No Public Access.” Perhaps as the demand for copper rises again with the huge worldwide demand for computers, Christmas may be reborn in Arizona. In the meantime, there are also towns named Christmas in Florida, Michigan and Mississippi – and of course, North Pole, Alaska.

For more information on Christmas, please check out this 2005 story in the Arizona Republic by writer Barbra Yost. It is an excellent account of the mine,the man and the town called  Christmas.