This year marks the 165th anniversary of Lieutenant Edward Fitzgerald Beale's expedition in Arizona. In 1855 the road surveyor camped on a hillside roughly midway between New Mexico and California. Above camp towered what are now known as the San Francisco Peaks. Beale's men trimmed and scaled a tall Ponderosa Pine, and flew the United States flag from the top. In the years following, the area was land marked with this "flagstaff".


Flagstaff remained a stopping point for some twenty years before anyone thought to actually settle there. He was Thomas F. McMillan, who built a cabin at the base of Mars Hill in about 1876—and some say that this was also when the U.S. flag was really raised for the first time. Be it a flag or McMillan's homestead, something did the trick for soon the Atlantic & Pacific Railroad announced it would eventually be cutting through the flat area below the San Francisco Peaks. Enterprising pioneers lost little time in scurrying to accommodate railroad workers.


Flagstaff's depot, courtesy Cline Library


Soon Old Town, as it was later called, sprang up on the southeast slope of today's Observatory Hill. The numerous business houses included twenty one saloons along the rough main street. There was also at least one “dance house in which the proprietor has a large platform erected which he has furnished with several pistols and guns. When a valiant gets a little troublesome he picks him off at a single shot and that is the end of the creature.”

Yes, early Flagstaff was as rough and tumble as any other western town. Within a few years, however, positive growth was evidenced by the railroad industry, a post office and the shipping of timber, sheep and cattle. Miners were present too, and by 1886 the town had become the largest city on the A & P between Albuquerque and California. Anything and everything was available at Flagstaff.


Although Prescott historian Sharlot Hall once called Flagstaff "a third rate mining camp", Flagstaff soon shed its mining camp status. Throughout the 1890's, upwards of 100 trains passed through Flagstaff daily to points in every direction. In 1896 the famed Lowell Observatory was built there, and the Northern Arizona Normal School (today's Northern Arizona University) was established in 1899. So was the Flagstaff Symphony Orchestra, which premiered at Babbitt's Opera House. The Babbitts and their CO Bar Ranch, as well as their trading companies, department store and numerous other businesses, have been known in the Flagstaff area and beyond for generations.



During the early 1900's, Arizona continued experiencing business growth, including a good-sized red light district. The district got even larger in 1908 with the mayoral election of Benjamin Doney, who followed through on his plans to lift the hefty laws imposed on the bawdy houses, saloons and gambling dens. He also expanded the red light district to a ten block area. Business licenses for bordellos were in fact lowered even as respectable businesses were required to pay more. Doney’s actions were appalling to certain citizens, state legislators and reformists, and by 1910 he was out. The red light district closed altogether following the gory and unsolved murder of Madam May Prescott in 1916.


Two years after Route 66 was completed in 1926, Flagstaff was incorporated as a city. Then in 1930, planet Pluto was discovered from Lowell Observatory. The discovery rocked the astronomical world and Flagstaff became famous. In 1955 the United States Naval Observatory established a station at Flagstaff, and the Clark Telescope was used to map the moon during the Apollo expeditions of the 1960's. The city even has its own asteroids, 2118 Flagstaff and 6582 Flagsymphony.


Hanging out with friends in the woods around "old Flagstaff" circa 1977. Courtesy Danny Rogers.


Back on Earth, Flagstaff waned a wee bit for a few decades. During the 1950's, 60's and 70's, folks enjoyed the area for what it was: a Hometown USA where everybody indeed knew your name. The downtown was old but sturdy, the businesses steady, and there was a true country feel that reverberated everywhere, from those living in town to the gorgeous yet remote homesteads on the outskirts. Who could forget Granny's Closet, the Museum Club, Club 66, and so many more? Skiing at the Snow Bowl, Red Bull Restaurant, the annual rodeos...It seemed like there was always somewhere to go and something to do, and Flagstaffers did it to the hilt.


Some of the old places have gone to the wayside, especially since revitalization efforts began in about 1987. But the gorgeous skies above town remain as spectacular as ever; in 2001, Flagstaff was named the first ever "International Dark Sky City" by the International Dark Sky Association, and thousands still flock to see the stars. All of these efforts have resulted in an artistic blend of old with new around Flagstaff. In the downtown area especially, historic preservation efforts still stand out with such historic structures as the Hotel Weatherford and the Hotel Monte Vista, not to mention numerous other shops, taverns, businesses and restaurants. The historic Depot, the Museum Club, San Francisco Street—all reflect on Flagstaff's colorful and alluring past.


Flagstaff, nestled below the San Francisco Peaks, today. Courtesy Best Flagstaff Homes.

  • Jan MacKell Collins

Somewhere in the deep recesses of my brain, way in the back, are these filing cabinets. They are in total dishevel, with old, worn papers sticking out of the drawers, yellowed with time, their corners bent and torn. When I open the drawers, manilla folders spill out. Most of them are filled with items pertaining to the subject scrawled on the bent and well-used tab, give or take my misguided attempt at filing them where I will find them. And oh God the cobwebs, which get only temporarily swept away when I open the files, but upon closing the drawer, one look at the cabinets themselves is a tell-tale sign that my attempts are somewhat futile. When you have written thousands of articles, unpublished manuscripts, scripts, ideas and a healthy sprinkling of books, everything gets kind of modged together into one big untidy mess. And this vexes me.

In the world outside of my brain, I've had a filing cabinet or ten since I was just a kid. Something about their orderliness has always given my OCD mind comfort. I used to keep random clippings, writings, torn-out magazine articles and scads of mostly useless information in them, certain I would use them one day. And I have, to a point, but a few years ago after I realized I had lugged some forty file boxes across the country, I had to draw the line. So beginning in about 2013, I spent a winter perched in front of my wood stove, feeding the flames with everything I deemed useless. I now have three matching four-drawer cabinets at my disposal, and have limited what I allow myself to keep to them and no more. And yet I still pluck and burn, refile and chuck, and find myself in endless quandaries about what I need to keep.

Wouldn't you know the same damn thing has happened with my Wordpress blog, which I've kept up since 2014. The whole thing has become a mishmash of regurgitated articles I've published time and time again. There is little that is fresh to anyone except those readers who haven't known me for long. Even so, two articles a month (or sometimes one per month, and other times one each week) have built up a substantial inventory of rehashed, rewritten articles. I'm sick of looking at them. And, my hard work has garnered a mere 78 followers. What to do?


Well, one thing I've decided is that it's easier to have a blog spurring from my website than using Wordpress. I can insert more pictures to tell the story, get a fresh start on something that does not resemble those cobwebby filing cabinets in my head, write what I want to, and share stories and history with you, my readers. You wouldn't be reading this at all if you didn't know I absolutely love history, and that my heart is engulfed with that love. I want people, places and events to be remembered. I especially feel that way about my ladies of the night, who have been forgotten and deserve to tell their stories. There are others too, and I'm happy to share everything and everybody with you. So hold tight, hang on and stay tuned, and thanks for being a fan of my work. Let's see what happens now.




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© 2019 by Jan MacKell Collins