Alto Arizona

Alto Arizona in 1909
Alto Arizona in 1909

Alto, Arizona, stands as a poignant relic of the American Southwest’s mining frontier, a once-thriving community in the rugged Santa Rita Mountains of Santa Cruz County. Established amid the pursuit of precious metals, Alto exemplifies the boom-and-bust cycles that defined many Western towns. Originally known as El Plomo—Spanish for “lead”—due to its rich lead deposits, the settlement was later renamed Alto, meaning “high,” reflecting the elevated position of its mines on steep mountainsides. Located east of Tubac in the Tyndall Mining District, Alto’s story spans from Spanish colonial missions to early 20th-century silver rushes, ultimately fading into obscurity by the 1930s. This report chronicles its history, with particular emphasis on its contributions to Santa Cruz County’s economic and cultural landscape.

Early History: Jesuit Foundations (Late 17th to Mid-19th Century)

The roots of Alto trace back to the late 17th century, when Spanish Jesuit missionaries from the nearby Tumacácori Mission first identified and exploited the area’s mineral wealth. Around 1687, these priests discovered lead-silver veins in what would become the Alto Mine Group, initiating intermittent extraction that continued steadily until the mid-19th century. The Jesuits, focused on funding their religious outposts, worked the site as part of broader colonial mining efforts in southern Arizona, extracting ore for lead (Pb), silver (Ag), and traces of zinc (Zn), copper (Cu), gold (Au), and other elements like antimony (Sb), bismuth (Bi), arsenic (As), barium (Ba), and uranium (U).

This early phase established Alto’s location as a key node in the region’s nascent mining network. The mine operated on a swarm of roughly parallel quartz-barite fissure veins, with sulfide and sulfosalt lenses that were oxidized near the surface. Wall rocks consisted of Cretaceous rhyodacite welded tuff interbedded with arkose and Jurassic granite. By the 1850s, as U.S. territorial expansion disrupted Spanish operations following the Mexican-American War and the Gadsden Purchase (which placed the area in Arizona Territory in 1854), Jesuit activities ceased, leaving the site dormant for nearly two decades.

19th-Century Rediscovery and Initial Development

Mining at Alto revived in the post-Civil War era amid Arizona’s mineral booms. Between 1875 and 1880, prospector Mark Lully of Nogales rediscovered the deposits, dubbing it the Gold Tree Mine despite its primary yields of lead and silver. This sparked renewed interest, aligning with broader exploration in the Santa Rita Mountains. Ownership shifted rapidly: by the late 1800s, Albert Steinfeld & Co. of Tucson controlled operations until 1902, when the Alto Consolidated Mines, Smelting & Transportation Co. took over, incorporating 21 claims including Steinfeld, Gold Tree, El Plomo, Excelsior, and others.

Infrastructure expanded with shafts, tunnels, drifts, and stopes totaling over 10,000 feet. Notable workings included a 217-foot-deep shaft sunk between 1905 and 1907 and the 1,632-foot Alto Tunnel. Production during this period exceeded 3,500 tons of ore, averaging 12% lead, 14 ounces of silver per ton, 3% copper, and minor zinc and gold—substantial output for a remote site at 5,518 feet elevation.

20th-Century Boom and Town Formation

Alto’s true heyday arrived in the early 1900s, transforming scattered mining camps into a proper town. Silver discoveries in the late 1800s fueled rapid growth, attracting over 500 residents by the decade’s start, including miners, families, and support workers. The community boasted a post office (established in a resident’s home), a schoolhouse, and at least 28 buildings, many constructed from adobe. In 1909, the refurbished mine employed 5 to 10 men, underscoring its operational scale under owners like the Alto Copper Co. (1907–1913) and Southwest Development Co. (1911).

Life in Alto was marked by both prosperity and peril. A devastating fire in 1912 razed much of the town, but residents rebuilt resiliently. The Bonds, a prominent family, epitomized community spirit: Minnie Ammerman Bond served as unpaid postmaster for a decade, while her husband Josiah later assumed the role, taught school, and raised their children after her tragic death. In 1922, Minnie was struck by lightning while horseback riding with her infant daughter Catherine, who miraculously survived; Minnie’s son Albert fetched aid, and she was buried in the town’s small family cemetery.

Ownership continued to evolve, with lessees like Henderson (1924), Bond (1929), and Laguna (1931–1932) sustaining sporadic production through the 1930s.

Decline and Abandonment

Like many mining outposts, Alto’s fortunes waned as easily accessible veins depleted. By the late 1920s, economic pressures from falling metal prices and the Great Depression accelerated the exodus. The post office, a lifeline to the outside world, closed in 1933, signaling the town’s effective end. Josiah Bond passed away in 1938, joining Minnie in the cemetery, as the last residents dispersed. Intermittent work by later operators—such as Long Contact Manufacturing Co. (1940–1942), Griffith (1947), and Fortuna Mining Co.—yielded little, unable to revive the boom.

Abandonment left behind crumbling adobe ruins, including the Bond home and post office, scattered mine tailings dumped down the mountainside, and the modest cemetery. Nature quickly reclaimed the site, with desert flora overtaking structures in this fenced, posted area on the Salero Ranch bordering national forest land.

Role in Santa Cruz County

Alto played a pivotal role in shaping Santa Cruz County’s mining heritage, one of Arizona’s most mineral-rich regions with over 558 documented mines. As part of the Tyndall Mining District, it exemplified the county’s transition from Spanish colonial extraction to American industrial mining, contributing lead, silver, and copper to regional and national markets. Early Jesuit operations highlighted the area’s pre-territorial significance, while 19th- and 20th-century booms supported local economies in nearby Tubac and Nogales, fostering trade, labor migration, and infrastructure like roads and smelters.

The town’s story, chronicled in works like Hidden Treasures of Santa Cruz County by Betty Barr, underscores the human and environmental costs of extraction—tragedies like the Bond lightning strike and ecological scars from waste dumps. Alto’s legacy endures as a microcosm of the county’s “mining booms,” which shifted from silver-lead to copper dominance in the late 1880s, powering Arizona’s growth during the electrical age. Today, it draws historians, hikers, and ghost town enthusiasts, preserving narratives of resilience in a county defined by its borderland mining past.

Current Status

Alto remains a true ghost town, accessible via dirt roads from Tubac but restricted by fencing on private ranch land. Visitors can glimpse ruins, the cemetery, and mine remnants from afar, though no intact structures survive. Its isolation in the Santa Rita Mountains ensures quiet decay, a stark contrast to its vibrant past. Preservation efforts are minimal, but sites like the Alto Ruins trail offer glimpses into this forgotten chapter of Arizona history.

Conclusion

From Jesuit pickaxes in 1687 to the dust-choked streets of the 1920s, Alto’s arc mirrors the ephemeral nature of frontier mining. Its contributions to Santa Cruz County’s economy and identity—through ore production, community building, and cultural lore—endure in ruins and records, reminding us of the Southwest’s layered past. As of 2025, Alto invites reflection on sustainability in resource-dependent regions, a silent testament to ambition’s highs and inevitable falls.

Ruby Arizona

Nestled in the rugged hills of Santa Cruz County in southern Arizona, just north of the Mexican border, Ruby stands as one of the most well-preserved ghost towns in the American Southwest. Once a bustling mining community driven by the extraction of lead, zinc, silver, gold, and copper, Ruby’s history is a tale of frontier ambition, industrial boom, violent crime, and inevitable decline. Founded in the late 19th century amid the mineral-rich Oro Blanco Mining District, the town peaked in the 1930s with a population of around 1,200 before fading into obscurity by 1941. Today, it remains frozen in time, offering a poignant glimpse into Arizona’s mining heritage, though access is restricted due to private ownership.

Ruby Arizona
Ruby Arizona

Early History and Founding

The story of Ruby begins with early European exploration in the region. Spanish conquistadors ventured into the area in the late 1500s, but sustained mining efforts didn’t take hold until the 19th century. In 1854, American prospectors Charles Poston and Henry Ehrenberg revived placer mining operations in Montana Gulch, targeting gold deposits. However, Apache resistance, limited water supplies, and rudimentary extraction methods hampered progress for decades.

By the 1870s, the settlement known as Montana Camp emerged at the base of Montana Peak in Bear Valley, drawing miners to the promising veins of the Montana Mine. The first formal mining claim was staked in 1877, focusing initially on gold and silver. The camp’s name reflected its location, but it was officially rechristened Ruby in 1912 when postmaster Julius Andrews established a post office and named it after his wife, Lillie B. Ruby Andrews. The Ruby Mercantile, opened in the late 1880s by George Cheney and later acquired by Andrews in 1891, served as the town’s commercial and postal hub. A post office followed in 1912, marking Ruby’s transition from a transient camp to a more permanent community.

Mining Operations and Boom

Mining defined Ruby’s existence, with the Montana Mine evolving into a major operation. Early efforts were small-scale, but by 1915, the mine was leased to the Goldfield Consolidated Mines Company, which ramped up production and positioned Ruby as a key lead producer. The real transformation came in 1926 when the Eagle-Picher Lead Company took over. This Kansas-based firm invested heavily in infrastructure, including dams, a 15-mile water pipeline from the Santa Cruz River, and electricity generation. The mine operated around the clock, employing up to 300 workers and employing advanced milling techniques.

From 1934 to 1937, the Montana Mine was Arizona’s leading producer of lead and zinc, and it ranked third in silver output in 1936. The town’s population swelled to approximately 1,200 by the mid-1930s, supporting a school, jail, infirmary, machine shop, and over 50 residences. Infrastructure included a two-story hotel, a dance hall, and recreational facilities like baseball fields. The Oro Blanco District’s total mineral output from 1909 to 1949 exceeded $10 million (in period value), underscoring Ruby’s economic significance during the Great Depression era, when mining provided vital employment.

The Ruby Murders: A Dark Chapter

Ruby’s prosperity was marred by lawlessness, epitomized by the infamous “Ruby Murders” of the early 1920s—a series of brutal robberies that terrorized the town and sparked one of the largest manhunts in Southwestern history. The violence began on February 27, 1920, when brothers John and Alexander Fraser, operators of the Ruby Mercantile, were gunned down during a robbery. Alexander was shot in the back and head near the cash register, while John succumbed hours later to a bullet through the eye. The bandits cut telephone lines, stole cash, horses, and cattle, and escaped southward, likely into Mexico. Suspected Mexican vaqueros were rounded up, but no charges stuck.

The horror escalated on August 14, 1921, with the savage murder of the Pearson family. Storekeeper Frank Pearson was shot twice in the back while reaching for tobacco. His wife, Myrtle, suffered a fractured skull, neck wound, head shot, broken jaw, and teeth knocked out with a gun butt in a frenzied attack. Frank’s sister Elizabeth was grazed by a bullet, while his daughters Irene and Margaret hid in terror. Seven masked robbers ransacked the store, matching descriptions from the Fraser killings. A $5,000 reward per outlaw fueled a massive investigation.

Justice came slowly. Manuel Martinez was identified by stolen gold teeth from Myrtle Pearson, and Placido Silvas emerged as a key suspect. After three trials—the longest in Santa Cruz County history—Silvas was convicted of first-degree murder. Martinez confessed but pleaded not guilty; his trial lasted just 40 minutes, ending in conviction. In July 1922, Martinez was sentenced to hang, and Silvas to life imprisonment. En route to prison, the pair escaped after bludgeoning their guards, killing Sheriff George White and mortally wounding Deputy L.A. Smith. A 700-man posse, bloodhounds, and—remarkably—the first airplane used in an Arizona manhunt pursued them for days across 70 miles of the Tumacacori Mountains. Recaptured, Martinez was hanged on August 10, 1923, after repeated stays of execution. Silvas escaped prison in 1928 and was never recaptured. These events, steeped in local lore including a supposed curse on the mercantile, cemented Ruby’s reputation for frontier mayhem.

Decline and Abandonment

The ore veins began to play out by 1940, forcing the mine’s closure. Eagle-Picher dismantled the mill and relocated it to Sahuarita, stripping the town of its economic lifeline. By late 1941, the post office shuttered, and Ruby’s residents dispersed, leaving behind a near-empty shell. World War II demands for metals ironically came too late to revive operations, as the remote location and depleted resources proved insurmountable. The once-vibrant community faded into a ghost town, its buildings succumbing to weather and neglect.

Current Status

Ruby endures as one of Arizona’s two best-preserved mining ghost towns, boasting about 25 original structures, including the jail, schoolhouse, miners’ homes, and remnants of mine machinery like a 700-foot main shaft with 2,000-foot lateral tunnels. The site also features two dams forming scenic lakes, a cemetery, and habitats for wildlife, including 1.5 million Mexican free-tail bats in the abandoned shafts. Owned privately since the 1970s, Ruby offered guided tours for three decades, drawing history enthusiasts. However, due to vandalism and safety concerns, public access was permanently closed on June 3, 2024. Visitors can still view the town from afar via nearby trails, but the structures remain off-limits, preserving this slice of Old West history for future generations.

Ruby, Arizona, encapsulates the boom-and-bust cycle of America’s mining frontier: a magnet for dreamers and workers, shadowed by violence and hardship, ultimately yielding to economic realities. Its legacy endures not just in the tangible ruins but in the stories of resilience, crime, and transformation that continue to captivate historians and adventurers alike. As a protected relic, Ruby reminds us of the human cost and fleeting glory of resource extraction in the American Southwest.

Horseshoe Bend

Horseshoe Bend is a stunning geological formation located on the Colorado River, just south of Page, Arizona. This iconic meander, carved over millennia by the river’s persistent flow, forms a dramatic, U-shaped loop that encircles a towering rock outcrop.

Horseshoe Bend is a stunning geological formation located on the Colorado River, just south of Page, Arizona. This iconic meander, carved over millennia by the river’s persistent flow, forms a dramatic, U-shaped loop that encircles a towering rock outcrop. Situated within the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area, it offers breathtaking views from a steep, 1,000-foot (300-meter) cliff overlooking the emerald-green waters below, framed by rugged, reddish desert cliffs. The overlook is accessible via a short, 1.5-mile round-trip hike from a parking area off U.S. Route 89, making it a popular destination for visitors to northern Arizona. The site is renowned for its striking beauty, especially at sunrise or sunset when the light enhances the vibrant colors of the canyon and river. Horseshoe Bend attracts photographers, nature enthusiasts, and tourists, drawing over two million visitors annually, though its popularity has led to increased management efforts to protect the fragile desert environment. Always stay on designated trails and respect safety barriers due to the sheer drop.

Horseshoe Bend, located near Page, Arizona, is a stunning example of a geological phenomenon known as a meander, where a river curves dramatically, creating a near-circular loop that resembles the shape of a horseshoe. This iconic feature along the Colorado River showcases the intricate interplay of geological processes, water flow, and time. Below is a detailed description of how rivers form bends like Horseshoe Bend, exploring the processes, conditions, and forces involved.


What is a Meander?

A meander is a sinuous, looping bend in a river’s course, often formed in relatively flat or gently sloping landscapes. Unlike straight river channels, which are rare in nature, meanders develop as a river seeks the path of least resistance across a landscape, eroding and depositing sediment in a dynamic process. Horseshoe Bend is an entrenched meander, meaning it is deeply incised into the bedrock, creating a dramatic, steep-walled canyon around the river’s curve.


Formation of Meanders

The formation of river bends like Horseshoe Bend involves several key processes, driven by the interaction of water flow, sediment transport, and the geological characteristics of the landscape.

Initial River Flow and Instability

Rivers naturally develop small irregularities in their channels due to variations in the terrain, such as slight depressions, obstacles like rocks or vegetation, or differences in soil and rock resistance. These irregularities disrupt the river’s flow, causing water to move faster on one side of the channel than the other. This differential flow sets the stage for meander development:

  • Faster Flow on the Outside: Water moves more quickly along the outer edge of a developing bend due to centrifugal force, much like a car taking a curve. This faster flow erodes the outer bank, carving it away.
  • Slower Flow on the Inside: On the inner side of the bend, water slows down, allowing sediment to settle and form a depositional feature called a point bar.

This erosion on the outer bank and deposition on the inner bank amplify the bend over time, causing the river to curve more dramatically.

Feedback Loop of Erosion and Deposition

As the river continues to flow, the meander grows through a self-reinforcing feedback loop:

  • The faster-moving water on the outer bank erodes material, deepening and widening the curve.
  • The eroded sediment is carried downstream and deposited on the inner bank, where the flow is slower, building up the point bar.
  • This process causes the meander to migrate laterally across the floodplain, with the bend becoming more pronounced.

Role of Sediment and Flow Dynamics

The type and amount of sediment a river carries influence meander formation. Rivers with a high sediment load, like the Colorado River, can deposit significant material on point bars, which helps stabilize the inner curve. Meanwhile, the river’s velocity and volume determine its erosive power. Seasonal variations, such as snowmelt or heavy rains, can increase the river’s flow, accelerating erosion and reshaping the meander.


Entrenched Meanders and Horseshoe Bend

The Colorado River Gorge cuts into the bedrock at the Horseshow Bend
The Colorado River Gorge cuts into the bedrock at the Horseshow Bend

Horseshoe Bend is not a typical meander found on a flat floodplain but an entrenched meander, which forms when a river cuts deeply into bedrock. This process is particularly pronounced in the Colorado Plateau, where Horseshoe Bend is located. Here’s how it happens:

Uplift of the Colorado Plateau

The Colorado Plateau, a region of relatively flat-lying sedimentary rocks, has been uplifted over millions of years due to tectonic forces. As the plateau rose, the Colorado River, which was already flowing across the region, began to incise downward into the bedrock to maintain its course. This process is called downcutting.

Preservation of Meander Shape

As the river cut downward, it retained the sinuous meander pattern it had developed on a flatter landscape millions of years ago. Instead of eroding laterally across a floodplain (as meanders typically do), the river eroded vertically into the resistant sandstone of the Navajo Formation, creating steep canyon walls. This results in an entrenched meander, where the river’s looping path is preserved but now confined within a deep, narrow canyon.

Geological Context of Horseshoe Bend

At Horseshoe Bend, the Colorado River has carved a canyon approximately 1,000 feet (300 meters) deep into the Glen Canyon Group, primarily composed of Navajo Sandstone. The river’s path forms a near-perfect U-shape, with the water flowing around a central rock promontory. The steep, vertical walls of the canyon highlight the river’s erosive power and the resistance of the surrounding rock, which prevents significant lateral migration of the meander.


Specific Features of Horseshoe Bend

Horseshoe Bend’s dramatic appearance is the result of several unique factors:

  • Geological Setting: The Navajo Sandstone, a thick layer of cross-bedded sandstone formed from ancient desert dunes, is highly resistant to erosion. This resistance allows the canyon walls to remain steep and well-defined, enhancing the visual impact of the bend.
  • River Dynamics: The Colorado River carries a significant sediment load, including sand and gravel, which aids in both erosion (by scouring the bedrock) and deposition (building point bars). The river’s high flow during spring snowmelt or after heavy rains increases its erosive capacity.
  • Time Scale: The formation of Horseshoe Bend has taken millions of years. The Colorado River began incising into the Colorado Plateau around 5–6 million years ago, following regional uplift. The meander itself likely began forming much earlier, when the river flowed across a flatter landscape, and was later entrenched as the plateau rose.

Ongoing Evolution of Meanders

Meanders like Horseshoe Bend are not static; they continue to evolve over time:

  • Meander Migration: Although entrenched meanders are constrained by bedrock, slow lateral erosion can still occur, causing the bend to shift slightly over geological time.
  • Neck Cutoff: In some cases, a meander can become so tight that the river erodes through the narrow neck of land separating two parts of the loop, forming a cutoff and abandoning the meander as an oxbow lake. However, at Horseshoe Bend, the resistant bedrock makes a cutoff unlikely in the near future.
  • Canyon Deepening: The Colorado River continues to downcut, deepening the canyon and making the walls of Horseshoe Bend even more dramatic over time.

Environmental and Human Factors

  • Climate and Water Flow: The arid climate of northern Arizona limits vegetation, which reduces bank stabilization and allows the river to erode the bedrock more freely. Human interventions, such as the construction of Glen Canyon Dam upstream, have altered the Colorado River’s flow and sediment transport, potentially affecting the rate of erosion at Horseshoe Bend.
  • Tourism and Preservation: Horseshoe Bend is a popular tourist destination, attracting millions of visitors annually. The overlook, perched 4,200 feet above sea level, offers a breathtaking view of the 270-degree river bend below. Efforts to manage tourism, such as designated trails and parking areas, help protect the fragile desert environment and prevent erosion of the canyon rim.

Why Horseshoe Bend is Unique

Horseshoe Bend stands out due to its combination of geological, hydrological, and aesthetic factors:

  • Scale and Symmetry: The near-perfect U-shape and the sheer scale of the canyon (1,000 feet deep and 0.6 miles wide at the bend) make it visually striking.
  • Contrast: The emerald-green waters of the Colorado River contrast vividly with the red and orange hues of the Navajo Sandstone, creating a photogenic landscape.
  • Geological Story: Horseshoe Bend tells a story of millions of years of uplift, erosion, and river dynamics, offering a window into the geological history of the Colorado Plateau.

Conclusion

The formation of river bends like Horseshoe Bend is a testament to the power of water, time, and geological processes. Starting as subtle curves in a river’s path, meanders grow through the interplay of erosion and deposition, amplified by the river’s flow and the landscape’s characteristics. At Horseshoe Bend, the Colorado River’s entrenched meander, carved into resistant Navajo Sandstone, creates a dramatic and iconic feature. This natural wonder continues to evolve, shaped by the relentless flow of the river and the geological forces of the Colorado Plateau, captivating visitors with its beauty and offering geologists a striking example of the Earth’s dynamic processes.

Mary Edith Fly

Mary Edith “Mollie” Fly (c. 1847–1925) was a pioneering American photographer who, with her husband Camillus “Buck” Fly, documented life in Tombstone, Arizona, during its 1880s silver-mining boom. Born in the U.S. and raised in San Francisco, she married Buck in 1879 and moved to Tombstone, where they established Fly’s Photography Gallery. Mollie managed the studio and boarding house, taking portraits of residents while Buck captured historic images, including Geronimo’s 1886 surrender. Despite personal challenges, including Buck’s alcoholism and their separations, Mollie ran the studio solo after his 1901 death until 1912. She donated their negatives to the Smithsonian and retired to Los Angeles. Inducted into the Arizona Women’s Hall of Fame in 1989, Mollie’s work preserved a vivid record of Tombstone’s frontier era.

Mary ("Mollie")  Goodrich Fly was a photographer who married photographer C.S. Fly in San Francisco. They arrived in Tombstone, Arizona Territory in December 1879 where they established a photography business and boarding house.
Mary (“Mollie”) Goodrich Fly was a photographer who married photographer C.S. Fly in San Francisco. They arrived in Tombstone, Arizona Territory in December 1879 where they established a photography business and boarding house.

Early Life and Background

Mary Edith McKie, known as Mollie Fly, was born around 1847, likely in the United States, though details of her early life remain scarce. In the late 1850s, her family relocated to San Francisco, California, where she spent her formative years. Little is documented about her education or how she acquired her photographic skills, a rarity for women in the mid-19th century. Mollie married twice; her first marriage to Samuel D. Goodrich ended in divorce after two years. In 1879, she married Camillus Sidney “Buck” Fly, a photographer, in San Francisco, marking the beginning of their shared professional and personal journey. The couple later adopted a daughter, Kitty Fly.

Arrival in Tombstone and Establishment of Fly’s Photography Gallery

C. S. Fly's Photography Gallery, Tombstone, Arizona
C. S. Fly’s Photography Gallery, Tombstone, Arizona

In December 1879, Mollie and Buck arrived in Tombstone, Arizona Territory, during its silver-mining boom, when the town was rapidly growing into one of the American frontier’s last boomtowns. They initially set up a temporary photography studio in a tent, capitalizing on the influx of miners, merchants, and adventurers. By July 1880, they had constructed a 12-room boarding house at 312 Fremont Street, which included their permanent studio, known as Fly’s Photography Gallery, at the back. Mollie played a pivotal role in managing both the boarding house and the studio, especially when Buck was away on photographic expeditions. As one of the few female photographers of the era, she took studio portraits for 35 cents each, capturing the diverse faces of Tombstone’s residents, from miners to merchants.

Role in Recording Tombstone’s Events

Mollie’s contributions to documenting Tombstone’s history were significant, though often overshadowed by her husband’s more publicized work. The Flys’ studio was strategically located near the site of the infamous Gunfight at the O.K. Corral on October 26, 1881, one of the most iconic events in Old West history. Buck was an eyewitness to the shootout, which occurred just outside their studio, and reportedly disarmed a dying Billy Clanton while armed with a Henry rifle. Curiously, no photographs of the gunfight’s aftermath were taken, possibly due to threats from the Earp faction, though Mollie and Buck’s studio captured portraits of many key figures in Tombstone, including founder Ed Schieffelin and surgeon Dr. George E. Goodfellow.

While Buck gained recognition for his photojournalistic work, including the only known images of Geronimo’s surrender in 1886, Mollie ensured the studio’s continuity. She managed operations during Buck’s absences, producing photographic postcards, such as one captioned “Arizona Prospectors, Tombstone,” which offered rare glimpses into the town’s daily life. Her work, though less credited, helped preserve the visual record of a bustling frontier town marked by saloons, stagecoach robberies, and mining ventures.

Challenges and Resilience

The Flys’ personal and professional lives were fraught with challenges. Buck’s heavy drinking led to their temporary separation in 1887, and by the late 1880s, Tombstone’s economy declined as silver prices fell and mines flooded. In 1893, the couple attempted to open a new studio in Phoenix, but the venture failed, prompting their return to Tombstone a year later. They separated again in the late 1890s, with Buck establishing a studio in Bisbee, Arizona, where a fire at the Phelps Dodge Mercantile Company warehouse destroyed many of their glass-plate negatives. After Buck’s death in Bisbee in 1901, Mollie ran the Tombstone studio solo for another decade, demonstrating remarkable resilience. In 1905, she published a collection of Buck’s photographs, Scenes in Geronimo’s Camp: The Apache Outlaw and Murderer, preserving his historic images of Geronimo’s surrender.

Later Life and Legacy

In 1912, Mollie retired after a second fire destroyed her studio in Tombstone in 1915. Recognizing the historical value of their work, she donated the surviving negatives to the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C. She then moved to Los Angeles, California, where she lived until her death in 1925. Mollie’s contributions as a pioneering female photographer were posthumously honored in 1989 when she was inducted into the Arizona Women’s Hall of Fame.

C. S. Fly's Photography Gallery, Tombstone, Arizona on fire 1912, Photograph by Mary "Mollie" Fly
C. S. Fly’s Photography Gallery, Tombstone, Arizona on fire 1912, Photograph by Mary “Mollie” Fly

Mollie Fly’s role in recording Tombstone’s events was integral to preserving the town’s legacy as “The Town Too Tough to Die.” Through her management of Fly’s Photography Gallery and her own photographic work, she captured the essence of a volatile frontier era, contributing to one of the most comprehensive pictorial records of early Tombstone. Her perseverance as a woman in a male-dominated field and her dedication to her craft ensure her place as a significant figure in Arizona’s history.

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The Disappearance of Glen and Bessie Hyde

In the autumn of 1928, newlyweds Glen and Bessie Hyde embarked on an ambitious honeymoon adventure, aiming to navigate the treacherous rapids of the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. Their goal was twofold: to set a speed record for the journey and to make Bessie the first documented woman to complete the perilous trip. Yet, the couple vanished without a trace, leaving behind a mystery that has captivated historians, adventurers, and storytellers for nearly a century.

Hyde Honeymoon Scow as found by searchers, Near Diamond Creek. 1928.  Photo by NPS
Hyde Honeymoon Scow as found by searchers, Near Diamond Creek. 1928. Photo by NPS

The Adventurous Newlyweds

Glen Rollin Hyde, born December 9, 1898, was a farmer from Twin Falls, Idaho, with a passion for river running. He had experience navigating the Salmon and Snake Rivers in Idaho alongside an experienced river runner, “Cap” Guleke, in 1926, and had undertaken a six-month canoe trip through British Columbia and the Pacific Northwest in 1919. Bessie Louise Haley, born December 29, 1905, in Parkersburg, West Virginia, was a bohemian artist and divorcee with a flair for theater and poetry. The couple met in 1927 aboard a passenger ship bound for Los Angeles and married on April 10, 1928, just one day after Bessie’s divorce from her first husband was finalized.

Inspired by the era’s fascination with daring feats—think Charles Lindbergh’s transatlantic flight or George Mallory’s Everest expedition—the Hydes saw their journey as a path to fame and fortune. Glen crafted a 20-foot wooden sweep scow, named “Rain-in-the-Face,” a flat-bottomed vessel designed for river travel but ill-suited for the Grand Canyon’s violent rapids. Bessie, despite her lack of river-running experience, embraced the adventure, hoping to cement her place in history.

The Journey Begins

On October 20, 1928, the Hydes launched their scow from Green River, Utah, embarking on a journey down the Green and Colorado Rivers toward Needles, California. The couple planned to complete the trip in record time, with Bessie documenting their progress in a journal and with a camera. Their early journey was largely successful, navigating major rapids through Labyrinth, Stillwater, and Cataract Canyons without significant incident, though Glen had once fallen out of the boat, underscoring the river’s dangers.

By mid-November, the Hydes had reached the Grand Canyon, roughly halfway through their journey. On November 15, they hiked the Bright Angel Trail to the South Rim to restock supplies at Grand Canyon Village. There, they visited the studio of famed photographer Emery Kolb, a veteran river runner who had navigated the Colorado twice. Kolb noted Bessie’s apparent exhaustion and apprehension, recalling her comment to his young daughter about her dress: “I wonder if I shall ever wear pretty shoes again.” Kolb offered the couple life jackets and even a place to stay for the winter, but Glen, determined to maintain their schedule, declined both.

The Hydes were last seen on November 18, 1928, as they departed from Hermit Rapid, accompanied briefly by Adolph G. Sutro, a photographer who rode with them for a day before hiking out at Hermit Creek. Sutro may have been the last person to see them alive.

The Disappearance

The Hydes were expected to arrive in Needles by December 6, 1928, but they never appeared. Alarmed, Glen’s father, Rollin Hyde, initiated a search before the couple was officially overdue. On December 19, a search plane spotted their scow near river mile 237, upright and intact, with supplies securely strapped in. Emery Kolb and his brother Ellsworth joined the search, recovering the boat, which contained Bessie’s journal, a camera, and other belongings. The journal’s final entry, dated November 30, indicated the couple had reached Diamond Creek, near river mile 226, and had cleared the 231 Mile Rapid. A photograph from the camera, likely taken around November 27 near river mile 165, provided the last visual evidence of their journey.

HYDE HONEYMOON SCOW AS FOUND BY SEARCHERS, NEAR DIAMOND CREEK. 1928.

Despite extensive searches, no trace of Glen or Bessie was found. The pristine condition of the boat, with no signs of capsizing or damage, deepened the mystery. Historian Otis R. Marston, a noted Colorado River expert, suggested the couple likely perished in the heavy rapids near mile 232, where submerged granite rocks had damaged or capsized numerous boats. Yet, the absence of bodies or wreckage left room for speculation.

Theories and Legends

The Hydes’ disappearance sparked a flurry of theories, fueled by the romantic allure of their honeymoon adventure and the lack of conclusive evidence. The most straightforward explanation, supported by Marston and others, is that the couple drowned after their scow hit treacherous rapids, their bodies swept away by the river’s currents. The absence of life jackets and the unwieldy nature of their homemade scow lend credence to this theory.

However, alternative narratives have persisted. Some speculated that Bessie, weary of the journey and possibly facing an abusive husband, killed Glen and escaped the canyon. This theory gained traction in 1971 when an elderly woman on a commercial rafting trip claimed to be Bessie, alleging she had stabbed Glen during a quarrel and hiked out to start a new life. She later recanted, admitting the story was fabricated, but the tale lingered.

Another theory linked Bessie to Georgie Clark, a famed river runner who died in 1992. After Clark’s death, friends found a copy of the Hydes’ marriage certificate and a pistol among her possessions, and her birth name was revealed to be Bessie DeRoss. However, Clark’s well-documented life, including her marriage and childbirth in 1928, disproves this connection.

In 1976, skeletal remains with a bullet hole in the skull were discovered on Emery Kolb’s property, raising suspicions of foul play. Some theorized Kolb, who had interacted with the Hydes, might have been involved. Forensic analysis later determined the remains belonged to a younger man who likely died in the 1970s, ruling out a connection to Glen.

A Lasting Mystery

The disappearance of Glen and Bessie Hyde remains one of the Grand Canyon’s most enduring enigmas. Their story has inspired books, such as Brad Dimock’s Sunk Without a Sound, a novel by Lisa Michaels, and episodes of Unsolved Mysteries and various podcasts. The couple’s ambition, the haunting remark about “pretty shoes,” and the pristine state of their abandoned scow continue to captivate imaginations.

Whether they succumbed to the river’s fury, met with foul play, or orchestrated an escape, the fate of Glen and Bessie Hyde remains unknown. Their tale is a poignant reminder of the Grand Canyon’s beauty and danger, a place where nature can swallow even the boldest adventurers without a trace. As river runners recount their story around campfires, the Hydes’ legacy endures as a haunting chapter in the annals of American exploration.