Jerome, Arizona: Ghost Town Turned National Historic Landmark
Arizona’s largest and best-known ghost town
If Casper the Friendly Ghost had a home, he would probably have taken up residency in Jerome, Arizona.
Jerome is Arizona’s largest and best-known ghost town, a friendly, vibrant and thriving community built on a rich foundation of history and lore.
The journey into Jerome along legendary Route 89A proves almost as exciting as the town itself. The route snakes up and over the 7,743-foot Mingus Mountain, winding its way along the steep west slope while providing some spectacular scenery.
Hugging corners and cresting curves with uncertainty, I try to envision this road with the heavy snowfall that Arizona recently recorded, understanding well the rationale behind the road’s two-day closure.
Jill Florio, a graduate in eco-environmental studies from Prescott College, Arizona, accompanies me, navigating us around bend after twisted bend, highlighting points of historical and geographical interest. “We’re passing through some red limestone,” says Jill. “This whole place is riddled with caves, most of which are secret and hidden.”
Cresting Mingus Mountain, we are rewarded with a stunning view of the Mogollon rim, marking the edge of the Colorado Plateau. My attention sways momentarily from the road to a seemingly unending slab of lime and sandstone which includes the whole Utah canyon lands. With little effort, Jill recognizes significant scenic landmarks: Verde Valley, the looming San Francisco Peaks, and the distant red rocks of Sedona. In making Jill’s acquaintance, I have stumbled upon my own personal geography guru.
Upon our arrival, we stop in at the Jerome Chamber of Commerce where a helpful, humorous man maps out points of interest. “From here, you may want to go the Collector’s Emporium and pick yourself up a widget,” he tells us. “What’s a widget?” we ask. “Well, if you go there and you find something you need but you don’t know its name, then it’s a widget,” he explains with a grin.
The Collector’s Emporium is just that: thousands and thousands of collectibles. When the sales clerk ask if we need help, all we can reply in our overwhelmed state is, “No thanks, we’re just checking out your widgets.”
Half of Jerome’s charm lies in its subtle quirkiness. At the infamous Spirit Room Bar, we peek in on the house band which has the crowd shaking a variety of instruments to the sounds of calypso. Grandmas, bikers, cowboys and couples are all shaking their booty to the beat of their own rhythm.
The variety of people that made Jerome what it was in the early years was a brave and raucous mix. Miners, smelter workers, freighters, gamblers, bootleggers, saloon keepers, storekeepers, prostitutes, preachers, wives and children all added to the town’s rich life and filled its streets with excitement. The rhythm of life back then was once described as, “Work, drink, and sleep.” After a series of turbulent misfortunes, Jerome’s mines closed in 1953 and the population dropped to ghost town status.
Declared a National Historic Landmark in 1976, newcomers and old timers have rebuilt Jerome into a haven for artists, writers, musicians, historians and families.
On the Mine Museum Road, a hand-painted sign reads, “Where the pavement ends, the Old West begins - Gold King Mine Museum and Ghost Town 1/2 mile.” Here, Don Robertson and his wife Terry own and run an authentic turn-of-the-century mining camp/ghost town.
Don talks with me about his life as a collector and his work in the sawmill. Sporting a full grey beard, denim from head to toe, suspenders, and a well-worn cowboy hat, he assumes the stature of a wise prospector.
“We’ve been running this as a tourist stop for 15 years now. Donations go toward paying the help, maintaining the yard, and buying collectibles,” he says. The exhibits are contained in 15 to 20 buildings around the complex. “Some of the structures I built myself, some were originals that I moved here. We have a one-room schoolhouse that we moved from Flagstaff,” he explains.
“The clapboard house on the hill was a bordello for a short time, but for most of its years it was a boarding house. It’s an original building from 1890.” I ask Don about the woman statue standing out on the top porch. ‘‘Oh, she’s just a marketing gimmick. Guys driving by see her and think, ‘Hey, we’d better check her out’,” he laughs.
Don’s passion for collecting old and rare cars is apparent. The site contains 80 models in various conditions, 65 of which are in working order. Restoration is his hobby and his life’s work at the Gold King Mine. Help is not hard to find. It finds him. “The blacksmith is driving in today, and I have a 74-year-old mechanic with me now. Everyone thinks this is paradise up here and they all want to be a part of it,” Don confesses.
Paradise might not be a bad assumption. Friendly folks, fresh mountain air, spectacular scenery, vintage saloons, home-style eateries and fine art studios and galleries. There’s a ghost of a chance he may be on to something.
For more information, see: www.azjerome.com
Author: Tracey Rayson
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