by Elaine Ernst Schneider
By the time I get to Phoenix …
In 1869, ten men led by Civil War hero Major John Wesley Powell embarked on an exploration down the Colorado River. Their goal was to travel by boat as far into Arizona as the waters would allow. Powell, a geology professor, theorized that the river preceded the canyons, forging the mountains and plateaus as it forced its way to the Gulf of California. The Ozark Mountain Daredevils told of the journey in Larry Lee's song "Mr. Powell," describing "cascade fountains moss surrounded on through a gorge grand beyond description," probably referring to the Grand Canyon. The mighty river of Powell's choice runs southward and could have taken Powell and his men to Phoenix via the Gila River which turns eastward from the Colorado; but in 1869, that really wasn't plausible. Instead, a triumphant Powell returned home. He had proved his theory connecting the emergence of canyons and plateaus to the power of the river and wished to raise money for yet a second trip. In 1871, the sequel produced maps and information for scientific publications that brought attention--and settlers--to Arizona.
Like Powell, a contemporary Glenn Campbell turned his sights toward the southwest, imagining all that could happen as he sang "By the Time I Get to Phoenix." But neither Powell nor Campbell was the first to drink in the splendor of the desert, canyons, and forests that blend to form the Salt River Valley. Both history and legend support the existence of the Hohokam Indian tribe who turned the arid areas into farmland by using the Salt River as a source for irrigation. The Hohokam Indians mysteriously disappeared around 1450 A.D. as a tribe of their own. It is believed, however, that they are the ancestors of the Pima Indians.
Up until the late 1800's, the land around Phoenix was largely inhabited by Native Americans--the Apache, Navajo, Hopi, and others. Songs like "Along the Navajo Trail" speak of riding "through the slumbering shadows … when the wind is strummin' a sagebrush guitar." "Land of the Navajo" tells about Running Elk and the trader One-eyed Jack "who held some turquoise in his hand." Certainly the Native American culture helped to shape the Arizona Territory, and men like One-eyed Jack established supply posts for trading and prospecting. Soldiers and cowboys joined the adventurers who came in droves to the frontier town. Where the Hohokam Indians had disappeared, new life was resurrected. The town became known as Phoenix. It embodied the realization of something that, much like Dan Fogelberg's reference to himself in his song "Phoenix," rose "from the flames" and ashes of the past.
The twentieth century brought irrigation improvements with the construction of the Roosevelt Dam, modern "settlers" on the Southern Pacific Railroad, and the air conditioning of the home and workplace. Today, Phoenix is the sixth largest city in the United States. Md45 rattles off the list of big cities they intend to visit, sandwiching Phoenix between Knoxville and Raleigh, in their song "The Craving": "Tonight we stole the keys to the city … your town is mine," they warn. Steve Miller asks his baby to "rock him" from "Phoenix, Arizona … to L.A." in his piece "Rock'n Me." And Malachi Crunch put Phoenix on the telephone map with "The AT&T Song" where the caller "dialed Phoenix and … kept getting Fiji." The small frontier outpost is a "big city" now, a center for multi-million-dollar projects, national spectator sports, and high-tech industry.
Still, the call of the Sonoran Desert beckons tourists to "count desert stars (and) lovers," just as Rusty Young sang in Poco's "Sagebrush Serenade" from the 1990 album "The Forgotten Trail." Phoenix visitors may answer the desert's summons by visiting the Apache Junction where they can hike, horseback ride, picnic, and golf amidst the desert, lakes, and mountains that contribute to the area's unique flavor. Likewise, the Desert Botanical Garden boasts more than 150 acres of arid land plants indigenous to that part of Arizona.
Preserving the flavor of the old west is an apparent priority for Phoenix, as seen by the prominence of Native American, cowboy, archaeological, historic and scientific museums in the city. The Pioneer Arizona Living History Museum has constructed buildings to represent those that were likely to have been erected in a territorial Arizona, and period-costumed actors present frontier-life dramas. Heard Museum houses exhibits that show the basketry, jewelry, and pottery of Southwestern Native Americans, while the Adobe Mountain Railroad Museum & Desert Railroad displays locomotives that were significant in Phoenix's history.
Phoenix is ranked among the nation's best in its offerings of resorts and is known as a city that welcomes conventions, sports events (such as the 1996 NFL Super Bowl game), and golf tournaments. The Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport serves twenty-three airlines that bring visitors to the city's 45,000 hotel rooms. And exclusive shops and malls provide the tourists with the opportunity to take back a little bit of Phoenix in their suitcases. Selected the "Best Managed" city by Governing Magazine in 2000, Phoenix officials pride themselves on knowing how to be good hosts.
But whether the dry weather, clear skies, golf courses, or conference facilities draw the wanderer to Phoenix, it's the haunting voice of the Hohokam that leads him down the trail on "A Horse with No Name." Songwriter Dewey Bunnell must have been to Phoenix. He describes a place where "the heat was hot and the ground was dry, but the air was full of sound." It's okay, Dewey. You hear the sound of the Hohokam calling from the ashes, their voices resounding in echoes from the walls of the majestic canyons nearby. It's just the Sagebrush Serenade. Listen closely. The slight breeze that rolls the desert tumbleweed is whispering your name.
Elaine Ernst Schneider is a freelance writer and music teacher. She has been writing since high school and has published articles, songs, and children's work. Presently, Elaine is a curriculum author for Group Publishing.
