Tag Archives: history

The Old Gold Dredge in Buckhorn Wash

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The story I heard with yesterday’s photo.

I heard the story years ago.

A gold miner had built a dam in Buckhorn Creek, north of Phoenix, east of Wickenburg. He’d put a boat on the resulting body of water to dredge for gold. But a heavy rain caused the dam to fail. The water emptied southeast down the creek, taking the boat with it. It was soon stuck in the sand down the dry wash.

Location of DredgeAnd there it remains.

We flew over it yesterday in Don’s helicopter. I’d shown it to him a while back while flying out in that area and he’d tried to relocate it several times since then. Yesterday, I found it for him again and he marked it with his GPS. I shot this photo.

Buckhorn Dredge

Doesn’t look much like a boat, does it? Vandals have been at it rather violently, it seems. And I’m sure more than a few minor floods helped the decay. When I first saw it, it looked like the image about a third of the way down this page, which was dated 2003. You can see an even later photo near the bottom of this page.

I don’t know if the story I heard is true. And I don’t know when all this happened. I’d love to know more about it, so if you have any ideas or links to additional resources, please share them in this post’s comments.

It’s a good example, however, of some of the really weird things we fly over out in the Arizona desert.

A Real, Old-Fashioned Payphone

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Yes, these still exist.

A Real Phone Booth

A real phone booth. You can find this in the main post office on 2nd Street in Walla Walla, WA.

In this day and age when everyone has a cell phone — including kids — the payphone is dying part of our culture. Recently, I got into a discussion about payphones with one of my Twitter friends, @Jen4Web. I started photographing the real ones I saw. I knew there was a good one at the Walla Walla Post Office, where I’d be going in a few days, and told her about it. On Wednesday, I snapped a shot with my BlackBerry and put it on TwitPic.

That got @StuartOswald interested. Apparently, he’s involved with a Web site called Payphone Org UK that shares photos of payphones. He asked for the phone number of the one I photographed. I promised to get it and a better shot. That’s what this post is all about.

I went back to the Post Office to take a few better photos of the phone booth and get its phone number: (509) 525 – 9958. I also took a shot of the post office from the outside. You can see the best of these photos here.

Payphone Close Up

A closeup of the phone booth.

The phone booth you see here is one like I remember from when I was a kid. It’s a wooden booth with a sliding panel door, light, and fan. There’s a shelf under the phone and a shelf to sit on. There’s even a phone book. The only thing different is the phone — this one is modern; when I was a kid, phone booths like this still had dial phones.

The phone booth is in the outer lobby, adjacent to the post office boxes in the Main Post Office on 2nd Street in Walla Walla, WA. Don’t let the name of the town fool you — Walla Walla is a great little town with a vibrant Main Street (actually named Main Street). There are shops and restaurants, and enough wine tasting that you don’t need to get into your car and drive. The town is surrounded by vineyards and wheat fields. It’s located in southeastern Washington state, south of the picturesque Palouse area and north of Pendleton of blanket fame.

Walla Walla Post Office
The main Post Office in Walla Walla, WA as seen from 2nd Street.

If you’re ever in Walla Walla, stop by and visit this piece of history. Tell you kids about it.

At the Right Place at the Right Time

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I tag along on a mystery tour — of the Kolb Studio living quarters.

Outside Kolb Studio

The public entrance to Kolb Studio, which clings to the rim of the Grand Canyon.

If there’s any such thing as “luck” I think it has to do with being at the right place at the right time. People who are truly lucky can recognize such an alignment and take advantage of it.

Like I did yesterday.

I was in the Kolb Studio at Grand Canyon Village. The Kolb Brothers were the original photographers of the Grand Canyon. They shot more images of tourism at the South Rim — there are 60,000 negatives in the archives — than anyone else. They also made a movie of their boat trip down the Colorado River through the Canyon and it played daily at their studio for over 45 years, making it the longest running movie in the world. That’s what the Ranger told us, anyway.

Today, the Kolb Studio is known primarily as a bookstore and art gallery. The old movie screening room which is on the second level down, has been converted into a gallery. Last time I was at the Canyon, the gallery was closed for some reason. This time, when I stood at the top of the steps to look down into it, I saw that they were packing up artwork to ship it back to the artists.

But as I stood on that upper landing, a young, thin, female ranger walked by, followed, like a mother duck, by a long string of tourists. There must have been about 15 of them. They were walking purposely down the stairs, past the barrier that had been erected to keep people out. I asked one of the last people, “Is this a tour?”

“Yes. Go to the desk to see if you can join us.”

I knew that if I went to the desk, even if they said yes, I’d be too late. So I just followed them.

Mind you, I had no idea what the tour was about. I had time to kill and it was clear that these people were going someplace I’d never been before. I wanted to go with them.

Kolb Sitting Room

The sitting room in the living quarters at Kolb Studio. Beyond this is a “sunroom” with windows looking over the canyon.

I’d hit the jackpot. It turned out to be a tour of the Kolb Studios living quarters — the home of the Kolb Brothers.

Emory and Elsworth Kolb were given a piece of land at the edge of the canyon by Ralph Cameron who owned Bright Angel Trail and a bunch of other land on the rim. This was back in the early 1900s and Bright Angel Trail was a toll road. The Kolbs were given the land with the stipulation that they were to collect the tolls when Cameron wasn’t around. The Kolb brothers built their studio — first a tent, then a wooden frame building — on the edge of the cliff. A window on the building looked out over the start of the trail. The Kolbs would snap photos of the groups of mule riders going down. Then one of them would run all the way down to Indian Gardens, which is 4-1/2 trail miles and 3,000 feet down, where there was water. He’d develop the glass plates, make prints, and run all the way back up to the studio. When the riders returned, the photos were ready for purchase.

Inside Kolb Studio

Inside the actual photo studio. The window on right right is the one they took photos of mule riders through.

There’s a lot more history to the Kolb brothers, but I’m not about to retell it here. Check out the PBS documentary about them or look them up in Wikipedia to learn more.

The more interesting thing is the house. It was built with its top floor level with the canyon rim. Subsequent floors were added below that. So the house literally clings to the side of the cliff. And it looks as if it were built over time by people who cared more about functionality than architecture.

Kolb Dining Room

The dining room at the Kolb Studio living quarters. Those windows look right out over the Grand Canyon.

But inside — wow. A perfect example of early 1900 homebuilding. The house I grew up in was built in 1901, so I know the style. Plaster walls, wood floors, molding. And all the windows looked right into the Grand Canyon.

The ranger led us though about a dozen rooms, including the sun porch, sitting room, kitchen, bedrooms, dining room, and, of course, studio and darkroom. (The darkroom was added after water became available at the Rim.) We were invited to take photos — even through the window the Kolb Brothers had used all those years ago. It was fascinating and a real treat for me.

Kitchen at Kolb Studio

The kitchen at Kolb Studio.

Let’s face it: I come to the Grand Canyon at least two dozen times a year. I’ve seen all the usual things. I’ve taken photos from the rim trail and every single rest stop or parking area on the rim. I’ve visited all the shops and eaten in all the restaurants and stayed in all of the hotels. I’m at the point where I’m almost bored when I come here. Almost.

When I finished the tour, the first thing I did was call Mike to tell him. I think he was jealous. Heck, I’d be if he’d gone without me!

Why Print Publishing is Doomed

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At least in my opinion.

This morning, while preparing to write a blog entry about the importance of creating a meaningful bio for your social networking presence, I came across a link in my Twitter stream:

jenniferwhitley Reading @cshirky: “We don’t need newspapers, we need journalism.” http://tinyurl.com/bpxulr

Easily distracted by any task at hand, I followed the link. I found myself on a plain vanilla — indeed, default WordPress template — blog page with a long column of full-justified text just large enough to read without putting on my cheaters. It was unbroken by advertising (including unattractive or animated ads featuring jiggling fat bodies), images (including meaningless stock photos, inserted as eye candy), or even subheadings (used by so many writers, including me, to help the reader skip head to the “important” parts). It was pure content with only a trio of centered asterisks to indicate a shift in the author’s thought.

And it was good.

The blog post, “Newspapers and Thinking the Unthinkable,” was by Clay Shirky. It summarized what has brought us to the middle of a revolution in publishing. Print publications are discovering that they can’t compete with the Internet for content delivery, no matter what they try. They’ve refused to see the reality of what’s going on. As a result, they’re not able to survive in the changing world of publishing.

Shirky compares what’s going on with the Internet and publishing today with the revolution of Gutenberg’s movable type and Aldus Manutius’s introduction of small “octavo” volumes that were less expensive to produce and easier to carry around. (I wonder…if Web publishing can be compared to movable type, can e-books and devices like the Kindle be compared to octavo volumes?) These innovation changed publishing. The brought about a revolution in how information was shared and who had access to it. This isn’t any different from today — information is more widely available than ever before.

My point here is not to summarize Clay Shirky’s excellent post. Instead, I urge to you read it. If you’re a journalist or serious blogger or any kind of writer at all, the history he summarizes and the points he brings up may be vital to your understanding of what’s going on in publishing. Indeed, I wish all of my publishers and editors would read it and begin to face the reality of what’s going on in our world. I believe that what he says applies not only to newspapers and journalism but to all publishing, including the kind of work I do.

My point is this: his finely articulated, well-researched, and extremely thoughtful piece is an example of why print publishing will ultimately go the way of hand-copied, “illuminated” texts. It’s quality content, easily accessible, for free, without advertising, on the Web.

Welcome to Macintosh

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A movie review.

Welcome to MacintoshThe other night, I watched Welcome to Macintosh, a new documentary by filmmakers Robert Baca and Josh RIzzo.

Here’s the review I just entered on Netflix, where I gave it 3 out of 5 stars:

I’m one of the “Mac faithful” and have been for years. I found this documentary mildly interesting — especially parts discussing trivia, such as how startup tones came about. In general, however, I found it to be a rather amateurish production, with far too much time spent on various collections of old Macs. The cutaway scenes with Mac models decorating the landscape was reminiscent of the “How It’s Made” television series and rather silly. I would like to have seen more interviews with Mac users, movers, and shakers, as well as some of those old Macs running some of the software from the early days.

This movie will appeal to any Mac fan interested in Apple’s history. But Apple haters will hate this movie; it comes across as real Apple “fanboy” material.

You can read another take on the movie from its premier on the Unofficial Apple Weblog: “TUAW On Scene: from the premiere of Welcome to Macintosh.”