constructing winter: flagstaff and the culture

CONSTRUCTING WINTER: FLAGSTAFF AND THE CULTURE OF SNOW, 1937-1990 By Michael A. Weeks

A Thesis Submitted in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Masters of Arts In History

Northern Arizona University May 2007

Approved:

_____________________________ Michael A. Amundson, Ph.D., Chair

_____________________________ George M. Lubick, Ph.D.

_____________________________ Leilah Danielson, Ph.D.

ABSTRACT

CONSTRUCTING WINTER: FLAGSTAFFAND THE CULTURE OF SNOW, 1937-1990

Michael A. Weeks

Snow in Flagstaff has been constructed to fit cultural ideas about winter. It has alternately been conceived of as an opportunity for play, a vehicle to establish the city’s winter identity, and as refuse, since it impedes transportation on streets. City boosters have promoted Flagstaff’s snowy assets to the desert dwellers of Arizona, while also attempting to convince them that roads will be clear. This construction has proved problematic since Flagstaff’s semi-arid climate renders snowstorms somewhat erratic, and a mild, sunny climate tends to melt the white stuff rapidly. As a result, the cultural construction of snow in Flagstaff has often been at odds with the natural one. Flagstaff’s local ski area, the Arizona Snow Bowl, and in-town snow play areas have filled an important role in the development of the city’s winter identity. In the first 20 years of the Snow Bowl, city growth proponents compared it favorably with ski resorts throughout the West. Though it eventually became clear that the ski area was solely an attraction for Arizona residents, ski culture in Flagstaff mirrored trends at larger resorts. In-town sledding and ski areas fell victim to growth and changing conceptions about where snow play was acceptable. Beginning in the 1950s, they were moved to the edges of town due to city growth and reliance on the automobile. Further growth,

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concerns of property owners, and litigation fears moved all snow play areas out of town by 1980. Winter-themed events provided another avenue for Flagstaff to develop a seasonal identity. Winter carnivals from 1939 to the early 1970s demonstrated a reliance on snowfall which often did not cooperate, or melted too quickly. Such false confidence in the weather even led to a failed attempt to garner the 1960 Winter Olympics. More recent festivals have maintained an emphasis on winter and the attendance of desert tourists, while crafting events which generally did not require snow to succeed. Thus, festivals have increasingly been deseasonalized by encouraging residents and visitors alike to envision snow in Flagstaff without the need to experience it. Though conceived of as beauty and an opportunity for recreation when in the countryside or on the mountains, snow on city streets has increasingly been constructed as refuse. As Flagstaff grew in the years following World War II, residents became more concerned with the ability of snow to impede travel. At the same time, the city purchased more snow removal machinery and expanded its street coverage. Meteorological advances, city growth, and increased removal capacity enabled residents to avoid snow in their daily routines while exacerbating concerns about the physical hazards it created. Recent attempts to install artificial snow-making machinery at the Snow Bowl and use chemical de-icers on city streets have further demonstrated how Flagstaff’s winter identity is a cultural construction. They are also evidence of how nature in the West has been constructed as a desirable commodity outside the city and a potentially hazardous one within it.

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CONTENTS Chapter 1. INTRODUCTION………………………………………………………

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2. THE BOUNDARIES OF WINTER PLAY IN FLAGSTAFF: SKIING AND SNOW PLAY, 1937-1990………………………………

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3. IMAGINING WINTER IN FLAGSTAFF: CREATING A SEASONAL IDENTITY………………………………………………..

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4. HAZARDOUS REFUSE: SNOW REMOVAL IN FLAGSTAFF, 1937-1975……………………………………………

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5. CONCLUSION………………………………………………………….

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BIBLIOGRAPHY…………………………………………………………………

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS This work would not have been possible without the guidance and inspiration of the professors in the History Department of Northern Arizona University, especially my committee members. I am indebted to my thesis chair, Dr. Mike Amundson. He helped me to formulate my research, develop ideas, and spent countless hours reading and editing drafts. Though occasionally frustrated by his demanding edits, I could not be more grateful for the time he invested into this project. Drs. George Lubick and Leilah Danielson also provided insightful ideas and encouragement when I was frustrated by my research. All three showed personal interest in my success, and accorded me professional respect beyond my abilities. A number of long-time Flagstaff residents provided insight into the city’s past. Jimmy Nunn, Ann Leighton, and the Beamer family (Jack, John, and Brian) gave an insider’s glimpse into the history of the Snow Bowl and early ski culture in Flagstaff. Teresa Gribbon was kind enough to allow me access into several Snow Bowl files. Bill Menard, Kevin Mullaney, Albert Lopez, Terry Burks, and Malcolm Mackey provided insight into the history of snow removal, including technical aspect of the machinery which would have escaped me without their help. Al White, Roxanne George, and Steve Shafer explained controversial aspects of the recent snowmaking and de-icing controversies. Jim Babbitt, Richard Mangum, and Martha Mulnix elaborated on multiple topics of Flagstaff winter history. The accessibility and graciousness of each of these interviewees is a testimony to the number of quality people in the Flagstaff community. Though not reflected in the text, the support of my family made this work possible. My parents, Larry and Kay, provided verbal encouragement and financial

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support for my academic pursuits. Most importantly, my wife Sacha graciously accompanied me to yet another Western town (Flagstaff) to pursue my degree while providing more support and encouragement than she will ever know.

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INTRODUCTION

Falling from the sky as crystals of ice, snow can be explained, categorized and measured. As a substance it is nothing more than water frozen in the upper atmosphere which fails to melt on its journey to earth. Once fallen it can be dry and powdery, wet and slushy, piled in ten foot high drifts, or blanketed in smooth sheets as far as the eye can see. Hydrologists measure its water content to predict its value for farmers needing irrigation, urban dwellers for household uses and to aid firefighters in assessing the potential severity of the fire season. Though snow presents itself as a routine phenomenon of nature, as a cultural product its manifestations are more complex and varied. Deseasonalization has been one cultural manifestation of winter. The growth of tourism, automobile-reliant cities, and the increased pace of commerce in the twentieth century have resulted in the need to remove or add snow to the landscape. It has been removed from cities streets and sidewalks, and added to ski areas. Magazines, advertisements and other media have enabled tourists to envision the beauty of snow in nature, while avoiding the hazards and inconveniences caused by the weather which produces it. Winter festivals have packaged the season in such a way that tourists and locals alike can imagine winter through exhibits, art, and various interactive experiences without relying on the weather to cooperate. The history of Flagstaff since the 1930s provides examples of all these aspects of deseasonalization.1

1

The idea of deseasonalization is explained in Bernard Mergen, Snow in America. (Washington D.C.: Smithsonian Institute, 1997), 59-62; Mergen also discusses the deseasonalization of winter festivals in “Climate, Identity, and Winter Carnivals in North 7

For many, snow is primarily understood as an opportunity for recreation. For some, this includes sledding, throwing snowballs and making snowmen. Since the 1930s, skiing has earned its place as a widely practiced winter outdoor activity. For communities which are noted for high snowfalls, mountainous terrain and/or cold temperatures, winter can be used to define local identity. Through the promotion of snow-centered activities such as sledding, skating, ice-sculpture, and skiing, communities have attracted tourist dollars and created a winter public image for themselves. To attract tourists to winter cities, roads must be cleared, creating jobs, and another vision of snow, as refuse. As automobile travel and recreational tourism have increased in the postWorld War II era, communities which desired to promote their snowy assets have had to remove the white stuff from travel arteries. Thus, snow as recreation and snow as identity have existed in tension with snow as refuse and labor. In Flagstaff, Arizona, snow has existed as a cultural product which has helped to define local identity and provide recreational opportunities. At the same time, to attract tourists and promote livability, the city has aggressively removed snow from traffic arteries. From 1940 to 1990, Flagstaff’s semi-arid climate and location in a state more well-known for desert has influenced its boosters to promote a winter vision that placed sun and snow together.2

America,” Celebrating Ethnicity and Nation: American Festive Culture from the Revolution to the Early 20th Century, eds. Jurgen Heideking, Genevieve Fabre, and Kai Dreisbach, (New York: Berghahn Books, 2001), 215-227. 2 Snow as refuse, resource, recreation and collective memory form the template for analysis and are introduced in Mergen, Snow in America, xv-xvii; Another important aspect of snow is as a resource. Though valuable, it is outside the context of this research. For a thorough examination of snow as resource in Arizona see Douglas E. Kupel, Fuel for Growth: Water and Arizona’s Urban Environment, (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2003). 8

The history of winter in Flagstaff from 1940 – 1990 offers a glimpse into how winter has been culturally constructed in the Southwest. Sitting at a 7,000 foot elevation and surrounded by pine forest, Flagstaff provides the best opportunity within a day’s drive for the desert dwellers of Phoenix and Tucson to play in the snow. However, a winter wonderland Flagstaff is not. Though it markets an alpine environment to lower elevation residents, its semi-arid climate provides marginal winters at best. Historically, Flagstaff has averaged less than 80 inches of snowfall annually, though even this is wildly unpredictable.3 Furthermore, mild temperatures, and generally sunny skies cause the limited snow to melt rather quickly. Indeed, for both tourists and residents of Flagstaff, it is the human construction of winter, often at odds with climatological realities, which has defined the town’s seasonal identity. Collective memory provides one window into viewing snow as a cultural product. It refers to the way individuals and communities remember the past. For example, most Americans have recollections of childhood experiences with snow. For some, it may have been making snow angels in freshly fallen powder, while for others snowball fights, snowmen, and sledding predominate. For still others, their experience of snow has come from novels and published stories.4 Collective memories of snow tend to be sense-oriented. For those visiting snowy areas for the first time, experiences are often recalled in terms of the anticipation of the visit, the feel of snow underfoot or in the hands, the initial exhilaration of a first time

3

U.S. Department of Commerce, Local Climatological Data: Annual Summary with Comparative Data, Flagstaff, Arizona (Asheville, North Carolina: National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, 1970 and 1986), 1-5. 4

Mergen, Snow in America, 238-241. 9

sledding down a hill, and the sensation of cold dampness getting back into the car and driving away. Even those who have never been in snow have sensual perceptions of what snow must be like. For long-time residents in America’s snow-belt, the sensations can be more varied and subtle. They often describe the solitude associated with falling snow and the sound snowflakes make as they settle on top of the millions which have already fallen. Even the color of snow varies. When combined with reflected light some have described it as blue, or even a faded orange or purple as the sun sets. Of course, there are the less romantic brown hues of snow after it has been driven on, plowed, and combined with salt, sand, cinders or chemicals to aid in removal. Added to this is the sense of anticipation present in autumn when residents in snow country look forward to the first snowfall, recalling something lost over the warm months of summer. Finally, there is the sweet yet melancholy sensation experienced when the last sputters of winter herald the arrival of spring.5 Inevitably, experiences of winter form a life of their own as the years pass. As cultural products, they are wrapped up in the stories told by long-time residents, mingled with events which transform perspective and even packaged by economic interests to promote business and tourism. A dramatic way to understand this process is through the concept of the ‘Big Snow.’ This refers to a particular snowstorm, or season of snowfall which etches itself into local memory because of the large accumulation of the white stuff. In Flagstaff, Arizona, there have been several big snows which stand out in local memory. In January 1949, eleven feet of snow blanketed the city. In December 1967, 5

Ibid. 10

seven feet fell in a one week period. And, in the winter of 1972-1973 a record eighteen feet was deposited on the city. Residents have widely varying recollections of these events.6 For Martha Mulnix, memories of the Big Snow of 1949 are dominated by worry. Her husband, Melvin, was trapped in the storm in the nearby town of Bellemont. Martha, having recently moved into her home and without phone service was unable to contact her husband and feared the worst. The snowdrifts were too deep for her to leave her house, and so she and her two children spent an anxious night waiting for Melvin to return the next day.7 Snowstorms have also provided examples of the comedy which ensues when technology attempts to overcome nature. Richard Mangum remembers the Big Snow of 1949, but recalls it differently from Mulnix. As a boy of 12, he remembers his first experience with a sno-go machine which removed the heavy drifts from the neighborhood. The machine, new to Flagstaff in 1949, possessed a large augur that shoveled snow off of the ground into a chute which then loaded it into an adjacent dump truck. The snow could then be removed to sites where it would not impede traffic. Unfortunately, according to Mangum, the combination of deep snow and narrow roads made it difficult to establish where the road ended and the sidewalk began. So, while he

Platt Cline, Mountain Town: Flagstaff’s First Century, (Flagstaff: Northland Publishing, 1994), 370-371, 466-467. 6

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Martha Mulnix of Flagstaff, interview by author, 3 January 2007. 11

and his friends marveled at this new technology the sno-go had veered onto the sidewalk and “all of a sudden mailboxes started coming out.”8 The same storm also reveals the nature of winter recreation in early post-war Flagstaff. Mangum and Mulnix grew up in the same neighborhood just north of downtown Flagstaff. Along with fellow residents Jim Babbitt and Malcolm Mackey they recall the January 1949 period as one of epic sledding. One of the downtown streets, Leroux Avenue, was usually shut-down for two blocks when snow was on it so that youngsters could take advantage of its steep slope. ‘Bellyflopping’ (running with a sled and diving onto it for speed) down the street, youngsters would try to gain as much speed before screeching to a halt before the temporary barricades at Cherry Street, where vehicle traffic did not stop. The most daring would plow through the barricades and continue on, shooting for the greatest total distance. Though a wonderful memory, the slippery slope that was Leroux Street opened full-time for traffic in the 1950s, apparently a victim of a growing population and an increase in automobiles. This would be the beginning of a trend which moved snow play areas further from where locals lived, limiting access and requiring a greater degree of organization for winter time recreation. 9 The record-setting storm of December 1967, also provided numerous recreation opportunities. Anne Leighton, who had just returned from college, recalls cross-country skiing out of her back door. Jim Babbitt, also a recent college graduate, tells of tunneling under a city street to make his way to the other side. Grade schoolers Brian and John Beamer exulted in days off from school and sublime sledding. Other memories transcend 8

Richard Mangum, interview by author, 3 January 2007.

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Mangum Interview; Mulnix Interview; Jim Babbitt, interview by author, 2 January 2007; Malcolm Mackey, interview by author, 9 January 2007. 12

particular winters. Jimmy Nunn tells of his bicycle trips across town with skis strapped to his back, aiming to schuss the north-facing slope of Sheep Hill where a rope tow and warming hut had been installed. Whatever the experience, collective memory provides a window into varying conceptions of winter and snow in Flagstaff.10 Of all the aforementioned recreational pursuits, none had more of an impact on Flagstaff in the years immediately preceding and following World War II than skiing. As with most other ski areas in the West, Flagstaff’s local ski area, the Arizona Snow Bowl, took its cue from Sun Valley. As the first ski resort in the West, Sun Valley catered to an ultra-rich clientele of tourists. In the process, it revealed the nature of modern tourist economies by serving visitors first and residents second. Though the Arizona Snow Bowl never achieved the fame of Sun Valley, its early boosters made attempts to publicize it far beyond its regional boundaries. However, without the capital to develop the Snow Bowl into a first-class resort or the high snow total of other mountain regions throughout the West, it remained nothing more than an attraction for locals and the desert residents of nearby Phoenix and Tucson.11 In the twenty years which followed World War II, similar patterns were repeated in resorts throughout the West. Bolstered by a booming economy, the explosion of automobile travel, and increased leisure time, the skiing industry boomed. Flagstaff sought to take advantage of these trends by promoting itself as a winter wonderland and

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Anne Leighton, interview by author, 8 January 2007; Babbitt Interview; Beamer Family, interview by author, 8 January 2007; Jimmy Nunn, interview by author, 8 January 2007. Hal Rothman, Devil’s Bargains: Tourism in the Twentieth Century American West, (Lawrence: University of Kansas Press, 1998), 168-201. 11

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the Snow Bowl as a top-notch ski area. Despite its aspirations, Flagstaff fell behind the big resorts of the West in its quest for recognition. Located in a desert state, possessing frequently marginal snowfall, and lacking the capital for development, it became clear by 1960 that the Snow Bowl would never become more than an attraction for Arizona residents and Flagstaff a snowy destination for desert dwellers.12 Despite this, ski culture in Flagstaff mirrored that created by the ski industry and by the culture developed at the larger resorts throughout the West during the 1950s and 1960s. Their carefully crafted landscapes and equally well-promoted image provide entryways into the larger world of ski-culture. Skiing in the post-war West was about style, race, class, gender, and connection with nature as much as about the sport itself.13 In the post-World War II period, ski culture exploded throughout the West, and Flagstaff skiers were eager to embrace it. This meant imitating the culture of European skiing in the Alps. The discerning skier could obtain social capital through the purchase of la Dolomite ski boots, Obermeyer sweaters, or Bogner stretch pants. At the same time ski resorts attempted to convince potential customers that the snow and terrain at their resorts was as good or better than anything found in Europe. In turn, smaller ski areas such as the Snow Bowl attempted to convince patrons that its terrain compared favorably with any of the resorts of the Rockies. In addition, though the Snow Bowl never

Rothman, Devil’s Bargains, 202-286; An example of how a ski resort boomed can be found in William Philpott, “Visions of a Changing Vail: Fast Growth Fallout in a Colorado Resort Town” (MA Thesis, University of Wisconsin-Madison, 1994), 62-100, 133-162. 12

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Annie Gilbert Coleman, Ski Style: Sport and Culture in the Rockies, (Lawrence: University of Kansas Press, 2004), 1-7, 192-195. 14

developed into a resort, its boosters promoted the fashions associated with the larger ski culture.14 Imitating European ski culture developed a racial component in Flagstaff and throughout the West. As a result of adopting European fashions and imitating Alpine culture, skiing became an essentially Anglo activity. The commodified images of European ski fashions, resorts, and white skiers, along with the high costs of the growing sport, conspired to limit the participation of non-whites. When minorities have appeared, it has primarily been in the context of the exotic. For example, local Pueblos at Taos have been hired to do dances at the resort, and in Vail, a band of Utes was employed to do a snow dance during a particularly dry year. In the same tradition, the Snow Bowl has used Navajo and Hopi imagery to advertise itself. Thus, the promotion of skiing has been constructed to include a diversity of images while skiing itself has generally been limited to Anglos.15 The creation of ski culture in Flagstaff has also been a gendered one which reflected larger ski trends in the West. Since the early days of downhill skiing in the 1920s, women have been defined as passive consumers and sex objects. Even women who were exceptional skiers were redefined in the media and the popular imagination as “the athlete as beauty queen.” Those who defied this stereotype tended to put their femininity at risk.

Flagstaff’s annual Winter Carnivals from the 1940s through the

Annie Gilbert Coleman, “The Unbearable Whiteness of Skiing,” in Pacific Historical Review, 65, no. 4 (1996), 583-600; “All Four Seasons at Once! Now in Amazing Arizona,” Travel Trade 1970/71 Sales Guide, 13 October 1970, in FCC Series 2, Box 3, Folder 10. 14

15

Coleman, “The Unbearable Whiteness of Skiing,” 600-611; Leighton Interview. 15

1960s and the promotion of skiing at the Snow Bowl during the same period displayed similar constructions of gender. Women were often portrayed on skis, but their athletic prowess was generally not on display. Rather, they were fashionably attired and physically attractive.16 Though the Snow Bowl has not been at the vanguard of ski area development, its construction of trails, ski lifts, and terrain management have mirrored larger trends in the West. Ski areas have attempted to create a feeling of wildness and connection to nature which has resonated with tourists seeking authenticity. It is a feeling that has grown more appealing and yet elusive in an urban, mechanized world. While packaging sport, the ski industry in the post-war period was also packaging the environment. In the 1950s and 60s Americans were spending more time outdoors, and becoming increasingly aware of the environment. Coinciding with this was an increased fear that urban, suburban and technological development were encroaching on nature. Ski areas, because they cleverly crafted their environments to look natural and hid aspects which could degrade nature, seemed to affirm the protectionist ethos of the period. Thus skiing “allowed Americans to consume natural resources in the name of protecting them.” Ski lifts have also trivialized nature because riders have not needed to exert physical energy to attain the views at the top of a lift. The more divorced skiers become from the conditions which have created and sustained resorts, the less likely they will be conscious of the environmental consequences of ski area development.17

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Coleman, Ski Style, 8, 61-68; Leighton Interview.

Coleman, Ski Style, 10-11, 124-135; Rothman, Devil’s Bargains, 338-370; Mergen, Snow In America, 109-111. 17

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As with skiing, winter festivals have often been used to create an identity at odds with nature. Flagstaff, despite its sunny, semi-arid climate, sought to imitate the winter celebrations of colder, snowier cities. St. Paul, Minnesota, was the first of these winter carnivals in the United States, inaugurated in 1884. Decried in the media as an unlivable place, St. Paul sought to dispel this thinking by celebrating snow and frigid temperatures. Its annual Winter Carnival consisted of outdoor events such as sledding, tobogganing, and ski jumping. But the centerpiece of the annual festival was the monstrous ice palace, built primarily from ice blocks carved out of the frozen Mississippi River. In the process, locals were able to define themselves as strong, healthy and masculine, St. Paul as a desirable place to be in the winter, and boost the local economy at the same time.18 Flagstaff boosters desired to create a similar image and simultaneously boost the local economy through its annual winter carnival. However, promoting snow-dependent events such as in-town skiing and sleigh rides made far less sense than in St. Paul. As a result, later winter festivals in the city de-emphasized snow as a necessary component for a successful celebration through moving an increasing number of events indoors. Ironically, this mirrored trends begun in the 1950s in places such as St. Paul where fewer events have been reliant on snow, and even the iconic ice palace, once the centerpiece of the festival, disappeared in 1983. Thus, Flagstaff mirrored the larger trend in winter carnivals toward deseasonalization. Winter could be a cause for the celebration of local identity and an impetus to attract tourists, but climate was reduced to a supporting role.19

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Paul Larson, Icy Pleasures: Minnesota Celebrates Winter, (Afton, Minnesota: Afton Historical Society Press, 1998), 1-44. Larson, Icy Pleasures, 75-76; Mergen, “Climate, Identity and Winter Carnivals in North America, 224. 19

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Cultural conclusions can be drawn by looking at winter carnivals. The decreasing reliance on the natural world for their existence demonstrates the ascendancy of perception and image over the natural world in the 20th century. Tourists have continued to flock to St. Paul for its carnival despite the fact that the majority of its events could just as easily take place in Phoenix. In the same fashion, Phoenix residents have been attracted to Flagstaff’s winter festivals, since it is the only city within an easy day’s drive which receives any snow. Thus, being in a place identified with winter has come to carry greater import than being physically in the elements that are identified with the season. Winter festivals, such as those in Flagstaff and St. Paul, are also the sites of power. Small town community festivals tend to be constructed and carried out by the middle class in the name of the community as a whole, and the central voice during these celebrations is the business community. Harvey Molotch calls these boosters ‘place entrepeneurs’ for they stand to benefit from the notoriety of a locale. They include real estate agents, owners of local media such as newspapers and television stations, politicians, operators of utility companies and small business owners, among others. Combined, their interests form a loose coalition which Molotch calls an ‘urban growth machine.’ Festivals are a valuable tool to market place and thus promote the sort of growth desired by place entrepreneurs. They not only support increased spending during their operation but enhance the desirability of a town in the public mind. This results in an increase in overall tourism and a growing population which in turn bolsters land values and demand for services, benefiting these place entrepreneurs. The winter urban

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growth machine in Flagstaff generally consisted of the Snow Bowl, Chamber of Commerce, Forest Service, the local newspaper, and city politicians.20 Local celebrations in the post-war West have also highlighted the economic transition between extractive and amenities-based economies.

Many small western

towns have experienced boom and bust cycles based on the desirability of their resources. Though Flagstaff’s economy has not experienced the extreme downturns of other Western towns reliant on a single resource, it did depend significantly on the lumber industry until the mid-1960s as its dominant industry. Festivals have provided one way to generate tourist dollars and transition away from the boom/bust cycles characteristic of extractive economies. However, the cost of survival has often been identity. Local festivals have commonly fostered an identity that is less about a town’s historical makeup and more about the demands of tourists. Flagstaff’s winter celebrations existed in tension between a community celebration reflective of the town and a money making event which sought to validate the interests of tourists.21 When snow is conceived as a resource for skiing, attracting tourists, and growing the local economy, communities tend to view it in a positive light. However, the same snow used to draw people to the attractions of skiing and winter festivals has often halted

20

John R. Logan and Harvey L. Molotch, Urban Fortunes: The Political Economy of Place, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987), 17-98. 21

An excellent study of this transformation away from extractive economy and toward a malleable identity based on tourism is found in Bonnie Christensen, Red Lodge and the Mythic West: Coal Miners to Cowboys, (Lawrence: University of Kansas Press, 2002); see also Rothman, 10-28. 19

their travel through clogging transportation arteries. In this view, snow is defined as refuse, often by the same people who promote it as play.22 In the 1920s with the increased usage of the automobile, Flagstaff mirrored a larger trend in America which increasingly viewed snow as something to be fought. Between the 1920s and 1940s, cities accepted responsibility for snow removal, and their winter budgets skyrocketed as a result. This deseasonalization of the American city involved four aspects: 1) determining costs and benefits of snow removal, 2)improving snow plows, 3) using chemicals to clear roads, and 4) establishing legal authority over residents to enforce removal. Since Flagstaff’s largest period of historical growth did not occur until after World War II, it was behind some of these trends. However, by 1950, the city had acquired a large fleet of snow plows, established laws to require residents and businesses to remove snow from public walkways, and employed cinders to aid in automobile traction. These changes redefined snow in the city as a nuisance which hindered mobility and commerce. Concerns which were once minor such as road damage due to the use of chains and hours lost at the workplace were now at the center of the debate. Perceptions of snow as refuse, in Flagstaff and across the United States, became driven by concerns over economic impacts.23 Media descriptions of snow in Flagstaff reflect an increasing alarm over the ability of the white stuff to paralyze the city’s economy and jeopardize public safety. Whereas before snow may have been something to be lived with or an occasion for a

22

Mergen, Snow in America, xv-xvii.

23

Ibid, 45-73. 20

holiday, its removal has increased expectations that it not hinder urban routines. 24 This perception of snow has been born out by the way media and authors have written about snowstorms in the post-war era. Consider historian Blake McKelvey’s vocabulary to describe snow removal: “snow-fighting,” and “snow-fighting equipment”; cities “under siege,” “snow battered,” and “paralyzed.” When describing a large storm, terms such as “violent’,” “onslaught,” and “suffer” are frequently employed. He also provides military analogies such as “army of shovelers,” “snow-fighting front,” and lots of references to coordinated communication to battle snow. The universality of such descriptions has been borne out in the way that Flagstaff and Phoenix media have described snowstorms and snow removal. Such portrayals of snow in Flagstaff have depicted snow as oppositional to human existence in the cities.25 Snow removal also fosters a dichotomy in how snow is viewed. When snow falls in the countryside or on ski slopes, it is viewed as beautiful, romantic and inviting. However, when the same snow falls on roadways it is a nuisance to travelers and must be re-defined as ugly refuse. Flagstaff in the post-war era magnifies this construction. As a town which is surrounded by national forest land and numerous recreational opportunities, it has provided varied chances to view snow in nature. At the same time, since Flagstaff is located at the intersection of several highways and has become a winter tourist hub, snow removal has featured prominently in the city’s development. Snow in urban areas not only redefines the beautiful as refuse, but also perpetuates the

Blake McKelvey, Snow in the Cities: A History of America’s Urban Response, (University of Rochester Press, 1995), x-xi, 77-97, 129-155. 24

25

Ibid, 1-201. 21

mythological dichotomy between the natural world and the city in which nature must be preserved outside city limits, but controlled or even fought within them.26 Chapter 2 examines Flagstaff’s cultural construction of winter through skiing and other forms of winter recreation. The local ski area, the Arizona Snow Bowl, has made numerous attempts in the post-war era to expand its operations, and the reach of its marketing. Though sometimes successful, its failure to attract large numbers of skiers from outside Arizona and to create a resort atmosphere characteristic of much larger Western ski areas was largely due to limited snow and, by the 1970s, local resistance. Attempts to establish ski areas and sledding hills in town also fell victim to the limits of climate. Marketing local winter festivals in Flagstaff, and creating a seasonal identity demonstrate many of the same limits and are the subjects of chapter 3. Beginning in 1941, the city hosted an annual Winter Carnival. An attempt to establish a winter identity for the city and attract tourists, the event boasted events such as ski jumping, slalom racing, sledding, a beauty pageant, snow sculpture and an attempted torchlight parade on skis. Many events demonstrated attempts to mimic the success of winter carnivals in St. Paul, Minnesota, and Steamboat Springs, Colorado, locales with higher snow totals and much colder temperatures. Flagstaff’s most audacious attempt to connect snow to its winter identity was its failed ‘bid’ for the 1960 Winter Olympics. Success of Flagstaff’s winter festival was often dependent on unpredictable snowfall and, during many years, snow-reliant events had to be cancelled for lack of the white stuff. Over time winter Mergen, Snow in America, 56; William Cronon, “The Trouble with Wilderness; or Getting Back to the Wrong Nature,” Uncommon Ground: Rethinking the Human Place in Nature, ed. William Cronon (New York: W.W. Norton and Company, 1996), 69-90. 26

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carnival became ‘deseasonalized.’ Though still marketed as a snowy affair, events became less dependent on adequate snowfall. Chapter 4 analyzes how snow has been conceived of as refuse in Flagstaff, primarily through snow removal. With the completion of major north/south and east/west highways to Flagstaff in the 1950s and 1960s, huge numbers of desert residents flocked to the town to play in the snow. As a result, the local business community placed an exalted emphasis on its removal from major traffic arteries, especially those with access to downtown businesses and to ski and snow play areas north of Flagstaff. With the growth of the city throughout this period, emphasis was placed on removing snow from an increasing number of residential streets, reflecting national trends of the period which largely defined it as something to be fought in urban areas.27 Winter in Flagstaff has served a variety of interests since 1940. For desert residents, the city’s surroundings provided opportunities for snow-play, and the Arizona Snow Bowl proved to be the most convenient outlet for skiing within a day’s drive. For the local business community and urban growth interests, winter boosterism brought tourist dollars and rising land values. However, as with many other communities in the Southwest, the promotion of winter in Flagstaff has been limited by its most important natural product, snow. This demonstrates the tension between its natural and cultural constructions.

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McKelvey, 129-155. 23

CHAPTER 2 THE BOUNDARIES OF WINTER PLAY IN FLAGSTAFF: SKIING AND SNOW PLAY, 1937-1990

No coquette, to be sure, not the fascinating Beatrice herself, can provide more excitement and variety, and in a shorter space of time, than a pair of skis on a mountainside. Walter Pritchard Eaton, Winter Sports Verse28

In its simplest form, sliding down a mountain on skis or metal rudders is connection with nature. The participant is simultaneously awed by the beauty of snow and scenery, while fully aware of the dangers inherent in the slippery surface and encroaching trees. In the second half of the twentieth century, playing in the snow must also add something completely unnatural: development. Downhill skiing has become the most recognized form of snow recreation, requiring a great deal of money and creating an altered landscape. Even sledding and more casual forms of snow-play have increasingly been relegated to privately managed sites. Since these locales have required large amounts of money to alter the natural environment, they have also become contested terrain, where the wide-eyed snow-player represents only one of the interests.29 In Flagstaff, some of those interests constituted a loose coalition of pro-growth groups who viewed the expansion of winter sports as a community good. They included

28

Walter Pritchard Eaton, Winter Sports Verse, ed. William Haynes and Joseph Leroy Harrison (New York: Duffield, 1919), i. 29

Bernard Mergen, Snow in America, (Washington D.C.: Smithsonian Institute, 1997), 81-113. 24

the Forest Service, the local chamber of commerce, the local newspaper-the Coconino Sun/Arizona Daily Sun, Phoenix media, skiers, and a generally Anglo, middle to upper class group of locals and Phoenicians with recreational interests and the leisure time to ski. These groups shared a belief that a more developed Arizona Snow Bowl and a variety of snow play areas would increase the number of tourists to Flagstaff, provide revenue for local businesses, increase land values, expand readership of the local newspaper, and enhance their own recreational interests.30 Winter boosters promoted a deseasonalized landscape where the harshness of winter would seem to not exist in Flagstaff and its snowy environs. According to the growth coalition, the roads were always clear, the weather was always sunny, and the snow was plentiful. By the 1970s anti-growth and environmental interests had found a voice, seeking to draw attention to the way the Snow Bowl created an artificial landscape and denuded it of trees, wildlife, and anything that had once made it natural. At the same time Native American groups protested development on the San Francisco Peaks, on which the Snow Bowl is located, as the Peaks are culturally and spiritually sacred to thirteen tribes.31

30

John R. Logan and Harvey L. Molotch, Urban Fortunes: The Political Economy of Place, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987), 62-85; Hal Rothman, Devil’s Bargains: Tourism in the Twentieth Century American West, (Lawrence: University of Kansas Press, 1998), 10-28; Molotch refers to this coalition as an ‘urban growth machine’ and Rothman uses the term ‘growth coalition.’ The terms will be used interchangeably here. The concept of ‘deseasonalization’ is further explored in Mergen, Snow in America, 56; some of the negative effects of ski area development are explained in Coleman, Ski Style, 119-120 and 128-135. 31

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Another hindrance to the promotion of skiing and snow play has been climate. Though the Snow Bowl is at a base elevation of 9,600 feet, it has a southwesterly facing aspect which, combined with generally sunny skies, tends to melt its snow quickly. In addition, since the Peaks are in a semi-arid climate, snow totals tend to be lower than most ski areas in the West. This has occasionally presented embarrassing predicaments for Flagstaff’s urban growth machine which sought to turn the area into the “Winter Sports Capital of the Southwest.”32 More informal snow play such as sledding and tubing has been marginalized by more than just the weather. Prior to the 1970s, these areas were numerous. However, the formalization of play in general, concerns over potential litigation, and a reduction in available land have conspired to move snow play areas outside of town, and have confined them to well-defined spaces.33 Such was not the case in the 1940s and 1950s. One of the most popular places for young people to sled in Flagstaff then was Leroux Street just above the downtown area. A two-block area on Leroux was generally left unplowed, and the steep gradient allowed aspiring sledders to pick up significant speed before slowing at the intersection with Cherry Street where a set of makeshift barricades was set-up. The truly daring might fly through the barricades and sled for as much distance as gravity and friction would allow. Though technically dangerous due to the fact that traffic did not stop at the intersection, hazard was minimized by the fact that few people tended to drive in the winter in Flagstaff before 1950. In fact, most of those who owned cars kept them in garages. In 32

“Skating Rink Work Pushed,” Arizona Daily Sun (Flagstaff), 7 December 1949.

33

Benjamin G. Rader, American Sports: From the Age of Folk Games to the Age of Televised Sports, (Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice Hall, 1996), 224-239. 26

addition, many of those with money vacationed to warmer climes, and stores often closed for significant period during the winter.34 Aspiring skiers also found slopes within city limits to practice their sport. On the east side of town, a tow rope and a warming hut had been set-up by the Forest Service on Sheep Hill and maintained by locals. Youngster Jimmy Nunn recalls bicycle trips across town with skis strapped to his back to practice his turns on the north-facing slopes of the hill. Despite the fact that a local skier crashed into a tree and died on Sheep Hill in 1935, the area remained popular and the tow rope continued to operate. During 1943, when the Snow Bowl was shut down due to World War II, a winter carnival was even held at the base of this small hill. On the west side of town, adventuring skiers and sledders could tackle Mars Hill (also known as Observatory Mesa). Though the informal snow play area backed up to a city park and a residential neighborhood, few conflicts occurred between skiers, sledders and local residents, something which would change in later years.35 Conflict was also absent at the creation of the Snow Bowl. Located 14 miles northwest of Flagstaff, the ski area was created in 1938 by the local 20-30 Club, a community service organization whose members were dominated by ski enthusiasts, primarily in their twenties. They had convinced the local Civilian Conservation Corps to extend a cindered road up to the present site of the ski area on Hart Prairie, on the slopes of Mt. Agassiz. Further subsidization of the ski area occurred when the Forest Service spent $20,000 in 1941 to build a permanent lodge at the base of the new Snow Bowl. 34

Richard Mangum, interview by author, 3 January 2007; Martha Mulnix, interview by author, 3 January 2007. Jimmy Nunn, interview by author, 8 January 2007; “Carl Godwin Killed Monday in Skiing Accident,” Coconino Sun, 11 January 1935; “Ski Club Plans Full Week End of Activities,” Coconino Sun, 5 February 1943. 35

27

Adding to the development, the 200 member Flagstaff Ski Club installed a 3,000 foot tow rope, funded through bonds sold to local businesses. During World War II, the Snow Bowl operated intermittently due to the allocation of resources for the war. After its conclusion, Al Grasmoen purchased the improvements to the 777 acre ski area and operated it until 1962.36 Grasmoen’s interest in the success of the Snow Bowl was joined by a coalition of government officials, locals, and Phoenicians who hoped to benefit from the fledgling ski area. The Forest Service played an important part. Though timber management played the pre-eminent role in the Forest Service during the 1930s and 40s, recreation constituted a small, but growing, portion of its mission. Ed Groesbeck, timber staff officer of the Coconino National Forest between 1935 and 1943, embraced the development of recreational skiing with abandon. Intimately involved with designing ski runs and cutting trees for them, Groesbeck and other Forest Service employees and volunteers also helped to survey and locate the road through Hart Prairie to the Snow Bowl, supervised labor on-site for the Civilian Conservation Corps, and was instrumental in acquiring a $20,000 federal grant to construct the first permanent lodge in 1941. As an avid skier and temporary president of the Flagstaff Ski Club, Groesbeck helped to organize several early ski races and used Forest Service equipment and labor to lay out courses and time races. His connections and skiing prowess also enabled him to plan and promote several skiing adventures, such as an annual trek up the runs of the Snow Bowl and down the steep back sides of the San Francisco Peaks. These arduous ventures were Milton Knowles, “Peaks Beckoned early ‘66’ Travelers,” Route 66 Magazine, Fall 1996, 42; “20-30 Opens Winter Sports at Hart Prairie,” Coconino Sun, 30 December 1938; “Skiing Lodge at Snow Bowl Nearly Ready,” Coconino Sun, 29 August 1941; Coconino Sun, 12 December 1941, 25 December 1942, 5 December 1945. 36

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advertised in the local paper prior to the trip, with a follow-up story which later chronicled the harrowing trek of Groesbeck and his companions. Though given to selfpromotion, Groesbeck’s claim that he “fathered the development of the Arizona Snow Bowl,” is not far from the truth.37 Groesbeck was not the only skier whose connections enabled him to promote the Snow Bowl during the 1930s and 40s. During this period, the membership of the Flagstaff Chamber of Commerce was dominated by skiers. Between 1941 and 1946, two of the Chamber’s presidents, Lloyd Heller and Chet Anderson, had also been presidents of the Flagstaff Ski Club. This enabled them to promote a number of events at the Snow Bowl. These included sponsorship of an annual Ski Carnival (covered in Chapter 3) and numerous races. Because the Chamber has been simultaneously involved in the promotion of local business and the Snow Bowl, it has been instrumental in fostering the commonly held belief that what is good for the Snow Bowl is good for the economy of Flagstaff.38 Local boosters were never able to completely erase the perception in the public mind that Arizona consisted only of deserts, dude ranches, and flaming sunsets. For Snow Bowl promoters this consistently presented a problem. Addressing himself to desert residents in April, 1941, Frank Schloss, Snow Bowl ski instructor, exhorted, “It’s already warm in Southern Arizona, but there are places in the northern part of the state 37

Edward C. Groesbeck, Events in the Life of a Timber Beast, (Steamboat Pilot: Steamboat Springs, Colorado, 1976), 62-63; “Skiing Lodge at Snow Bowl Nearly Ready,” Coconino Sun, 29 August 1941;For an example of Groesbeck’s skiing treks, see Coconino Sun, 17 March 1939. 38

Coconino Sun, 9 February 1945 and 25 December 1942; Anne Leighton, interview by author, 8 January 2007. 29

where the ground is still covered with at least six feet of snow, enough for skiing and tobogganing in May.” Schloss went on to claim that areas of the San Francisco Peaks occasionally attained a snow pack of 30 feet and that skiing there could be excellent into July. Though perhaps a bit of an exaggeration, given that the average snowfall for the winter at the Snow Bowl has been less than 250 inches, Schloss typified Flagstaff boosters who sought to counter prevailing perceptions.39 The local newspaper, the Coconino Sun, also shared an interest in promoting the Snow Bowl. While the Chamber sought to increase business, the Sun hoped that the growth of Flagstaff’s recreational amenities would lead to increased readership and advertising. Hence, no opportunity to promote the Snow Bowl was passed up. The winter of 1949-50 provides evidence. Between December 17, 1949, and March 25, 1950, the Snow Bowl appeared on the front page of the weekly publication all but three times. Occasionally, an article on skiing in Flagstaff would find its way into a nationally published magazine. For the Sun, this was front page news. Between 1940 and 1950 it reproduced portions of articles from publications such as Colliers, the St. Louis GlobeDemocrat, Ski Illustrated, and the New York Times.40 The substance of these articles reveals much about the Sun’s promotion of the Snow Bowl. The newspaper sought to combat the idea that skiing could not occur in a sunny, desert state such as Arizona. In February, 1942, the Sun publicized the fact that 39

Arizona Republic, 26 April 1941; United States Department of Agriculture, Forest Service, Southwestern Region, Final Environmental Impact Statement for Arizona Snowbowl Facilities Improvements: Volume 1. (Coconino National Forest: Coconino County, Arizona. 2005), 3-130. 40

Coconino Sun, 25 December 1942, 4 February 1945, 22 February 1946, 17 December 1949 - 25 March 1950; New York Times,1 February 1960. 30

Sun Valley, the preeminent ski resort in the West, would be closed for the duration of World War II, while pointing out that the Snow Bowl was open for skiers throughout the nation. It also was eager to use celebrity visits and commentary to promote the ski area. When film star Joan Blondell came to the Snow Bowl in 1946, the Sun included a photograph of her skiing, and quoted her saying, “We’ll be back—we never had so much fun before anywhere.” In addition, the Sun was enthusiastic about publishing comments from visitors to the Snow Bowl who claimed that the skiing there was as good or better than anything the ski areas had to offer in the Rockies or New England. In response to a Colliers article in 1949 which claimed that winter sports had no future in Arizona, the Sun published a picture which was sent in reply to the magazine. It featured a smiling, attractive female college student at the top of a ski run at the Snow Bowl preparing to ski down a snowy slope. The caption below exclaimed that the Snow Bowl “provides some of the best skiing that can be found anywhere.”41 Recognizing that tourists have generally visited Arizona for sun and to view the Grand Canyon, the newspaper was careful to balance the state’s desert sites along with its promotion of the Snow Bowl. Other articles pointed out how one could spend part of the day soaking up the winter sun’s rays in Phoenix, then drive a couple of hours north to ski. And while skiing, the visitor could enjoy the view of the Grand Canyon from the slopes of Mt. Agassiz. Thus, a trip to Arizona enabled the tourist to consume sun, snow, and sport in the same day, and the Snow Bowl was central to the experience.42

41

Coconino Sun, 25 December 1942, 15 March 1946, 22 March 1946, 28 January

42

Coconino Sun, 25 December 1942, 4 February 1946.

1950.

31

Many residents of Phoenix were as intimately involved in the promotion of skiing at the Snow Bowl as were locals from Flagstaff. In its fledgling years, the ski area used many volunteers from the Phoenix Ski Club to clear and maintain its trails. In fact, some early volunteers claim that these Phoenicians provided a larger portion of the off-season labor than did Flagstaff locals. These summer labors translated into winter visitors. Despite a journey that could take more than four hours in the 1940s and 50s, numerous Phoenicians visited the Snow Bowl. This is evidenced by 1940s articles in the Sun which published the names and origins of out-of-towners. In the winter of 1946-47, the Phoenix Ski Club began chartering buses to take desert residents each weekend to Flagstaff to ski. That same year, the Phoenix Chamber of Commerce became involved. Its special events committee, called the Thunderbirds, began sponsoring annual ski contests which attracted competitors from throughout the West. During the same season, its publicity department published promotional materials for the Snow Bowl which featured female college students from Arizona State University in Tempe sun-bathing in Phoenix in the morning, skiing in Flagstaff in the afternoon, and dancing back home during the evening.43 Though the Snow Bowl benefited from Phoenix and Flagstaff boosterism, the nature of promotion from Phoenix differed. Rather than just touting the benefits of skiing at the Snow Bowl, Phoenix boosters placed skiing in the larger context of consumption in the Phoenix area. Visitors to Flagstaff were not supposed to vacation only in Flagstaff, but make it part of a larger day which included a morning soaking up the Phoenix sun, then returning in the evening to partake of the local night life. Boosters also informed

43

Nunn Interview; Beamer Family, interview by author, 8 January 2007; Coconino Sun, 15 March 1946, 17 December 1946, 17 January 1947, 31 January 1947. 32

Phoenicians and potential future residents that Arizona had more to offer than just the desert and the sun. This was important, as the Phoenix urban growth machine dominated the city during the post-war period. By promoting the Snow Bowl, boosters informed new residents that winter sports are part of the Arizona experience. To tourists, promoting the Snow Bowl was part of a larger campaign to convince them that Phoenix was the natural hub from which to explore the state.44 In contrast, Flagstaff’s promotion of the Snow Bowl sought instead to prove that a winter visit to Flagstaff should include an overnight stay and the frequenting of local retail establishments, restaurants and bars. Punctuating this theme, Snow Bowl operator Al Grasmoen made attempts to convince local civic groups of the economic potential of the Snow Bowl. In a 1949 speech before the Rotary Club, he claimed that “the average winter sports visitor, normally in a better than average income bracket, will spend about $20 a day to participate in his sport. Of that sum, only $2 is actually spent at the ski area. The other amount “represents income for the community – its stores, hotels, service stations, and other adjuncts of the tourist town.” To this end, boosters pushed Flagstaff to develop more retail shops geared toward tourists, and even the development of the Snow Bowl into a resort rivaling Sun Valley. Despite this, Flagstaff remained a small town throughout the era and the local ski area maintained its provincial character, while the influence of the Phoenix region over winter in Flagstaff increased.45

44

For more on Phoenix growth during the period see Carl Abbott, The New Urban America: Growth and Politics in Sunbelt Cities, (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1987), 142, 176, 182. 45

Coconino Sun, 7 January 1949, 27 February 1954. 33

Attempts to lure potential skiers to the Snow Bowl did not end once they were convinced that it snowed in Arizona, for they also needed to believe that the roads to Flagstaff were passable. The Sun was a willing participant in this battle of perception. The majority of articles which mentioned the Snow Bowl and snowstorms throughout the 1940’s were careful to point out that the roads were clear. The Flagstaff Chamber of Commerce also frequently entered the fray. In a letter to the Sun in 1941, Leo Weaver of the Chamber submitted a letter which exclaimed that the roads to Flagstaff were almost always open in the winter and that most of the drive from all directions to Flagstaff was in the desert, and so one would only encounter snow in the immediate vicinity of the town. In addition, Weaver pointed out that Route 66 was “always” open regardless of the weather. Finally, he decried “misinformation” which had led people to believe that roads to Flagstaff were impassable in the winter and that this had hurt the local economy, including the Snow Bowl. The Sun was happy to oblige Weaver by printing the letter on the front page.46 Snow Bowl promoters were also careful to avoid any impression that it would actually be snowing while skiing was taking place. Most photographs of the Snow Bowl during its early years emphasized snow covered mountains and trees laden with the white stuff, while featuring an azure sky as a backdrop. At the same time, the area outside the ski lodge was referred to as the ‘sun deck,’ and promotional literature focused on how comfortable the visitor could be either on skis or soaking up rays while watching others on skis. Furthermore, the avid skier would only need to encounter snow in the places

46

For example see Coconino Sun, 17 December 1941, 31 December 1943. 34

where it was necessary, for in Flagstaff, one could shop, eat, and stay in accommodations where the weather was comfortable and the ground dry.47 These are all indicators of how skiing in Flagstaff had become deseasonalized. According to promoters, winter would not be encountered on the trip to Flagstaff as the roads would be clear and dry. Neither would it be found clogging the streets of Flagstaff, an indicator that being a consumer in town was never inconvenient. Snow was only found in the one place it was desired: at the Snow Bowl. But, even there, the snow was divorced from the conditions which helped to create it as snow seemed only to fall when the skiing visitor was not present. This could not be overemphasized, for desert residents and tourists expected to find sun if nothing else in Arizona. And, if nasty weather just happened to appear, that presented no problems either, for Phoenix was a short drive away. Thus, through the construction of skiing for consumption, cultural values were grafted onto the natural world. Snow was valuable on a mountainside when put to the purpose of recreation, but a nuisance when on the roads, in town, or even falling from the sky. Flagstaff was not alone in the 1940s in its promotion of skiing and winter tourism. Small ski areas were popping up throughout the West, seeking to take advantage of their new-found popularity and to capitalize on the success of the first big resort, Sun Valley. Though skiing took place at Aspen before the war, it had not been established as a resort until 1947, and ski areas such as Squaw Valley and Vail had not yet been envisioned. At

For example, see “Winter Serenade,” Arizona Highways, January 1949, 18-23; Arizona Republic 25 April 1941; The Arizona Snow Bowl. (Flagstaff: Flagstaff Ski Club, 1941) Northern Arizona University Vertical Files, Flagstaff Ski Club, Cline Library, Northern Arizona University; Future citations will refer to this collection as NAU Vertical Files. 47

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the same time, increased earnings and leisure time in the post-war period combined with pent-up demand for vacations and consumer goods lent themselves naturally to the promotion of what was still a new sport in the eyes of most Americans. So, why not Flagstaff? As a growing town situated on a major rail line, the famed Route 66, and soon to have two major interstates constructed on the outskirts of town, it seemed poised to tap into the winter tourist trade. Though many among the local growth coalition envisioned great things for the ski area and for winter sports in Flagstaff, the 1950s through the mid1970s revealed the limits of growth. Lack of capital, a climate which occasionally revealed its semi-arid nature by producing marginal snow, and eventually opposition to development on the San Francisco Peaks conspired to limit the growth of winter recreation in Flagstaff and confirm the reality that Flagstaff was a winter wonderland only for surrounding desert residents.48 By the mid-1950s, the character of winter play within the city limits of Flagstaff had changed. Sledding and tobogganing on city streets became an unacceptable and dangerous activity. Informal sledding hills like that on Leroux Street disappeared, giving way to the snow plow and the automobile. This was a reflection of changes within Flagstaff, and reflected larger transformations in the United States. During the 1950s, the population of Flagstaff more than doubled, putting greater pressure on existing arteries of traffic. Compounding this was an increased emphasis on tourism. Flagstaff was poised to take advantage of these car travelers as an entrepot to the Grand Canyon, Native American sites, National Forest lands, and the Snow Bowl. Further evidence of

48

For more on skiing and tourism in the post-war era see Rothman, 202-251 and Annie Gilbert Coleman, Ski Style: Sport and Culture in the Rockies, (Lawrence: University of Kansas Press, 2004), 117-181. 36

Flagstaff’s friendliness to autos is evidenced by an increase in snow plowing (covered in chapter 4), and the fact that fewer wealthy residents were leaving for the winter. Finally, the larger population and increased tourism placed a greater emphasis on keeping businesses open which required that traffic arteries remain unimpeded. Flagstaff city recreation commissioner G.F Radebaugh summed up the changes in 1960 when he warned that “it is very dangerous for youngsters to go sleigh-riding on the street.” All of this spelled doom for sledding hills such as that on Leroux.49 Snow play areas were not eradicated by these changes. Instead, they were simply moved to spots in the city where they would not interfere with traffic or commerce. The Flagstaff City Department of Recreation and Parks had established a number of in-town winter recreation areas by the early 1960s. On the west side of town a ski run was cleared on Mars Hill where young people could even receive lessons for one hour each weekday afternoon. Adjacent to this were two sledding runs. At the base of the hill, an area of City Park was flooded, forming a community ice skating rink. On the east side of town, recently annexed to Flagstaff, three sledding runs were set-up in 1960. These provided an impressive array of snow play opportunities for a small town (around 25,000 in 1960), but they also demonstrate that winter frolicking had become subservient to tourism, economic growth, and the automobile.50 Other conclusions can also be derived from these changes. The growth of a city and the reliance on the automobile require control of movement. Streets have to be limited to transportation purposes, and walking must be regulated by street signs, stop 49

Mulnix Interview; Mangum Interview; Arizona Daily Sun, 2 January 1960.

“City of Flagstaff Recreation and Park Facilities Pamphlet, 1963(?),” pp. 4-11, NAU Vertical Files, Recreation and Parks; Daily Sun, 2 January 1960. 50

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lights and an increased number of sidewalks. As a result snow play becomes confined to private residences and areas of the city set aside for that purpose and regulated. This can also have the effect of limiting access. Though Flagstaff had many opportunities for snow play in the 1960s they were not scattered uniformly around town. As a result, those who lived nearby had easier access, and those who did not generally needed to rely on automobile transportation, reinforcing the trend that had helped to segregate winter play originally. Finally, it highlights the assumption that Flagstaff’s climate was then and would continually be cold and snowy into the future. The creation of so many skiing, sledding and ice skating areas demonstrates this. Later events would underscore the marginality of these areas.51 While Flagstaff’s population and attractiveness as a tourist destination grew, the Arizona Snow Bowl took advantage of these trends through development and promotion. In 1956, a hastily put together group of Flagstaff boosters from the Chamber of Commerce, Daily Sun, Forest Service, and Snow Bowl calling themselves the Flagstaff Olympic Committee attempted to boost visibility of the Snow Bowl by bidding for the 1960 Winter Olympics. Though given short shrift by the International Olympic Committee, the bid revealed how important the promotion of winter tourism in Flagstaff had become (covered in Chapter 3). By the early 1960s, the Snow Bowl had added several new ski runs as well as two new lifts, including its first chair lift in 1962. At the same time, the new Black Canyon Highway (later know as Interstate 17) was completed in 1960, cutting the travel time from Phoenix to Flagstaff by 2 hours. Emphasizing the importance of these desert dwellers to the Flagstaff economy and the Snow Bowl, the Sun 51

Rader, 224-239. 38

published articles citing the number of Phoenicians visiting the ski area. Using estimates from Snow Bowl operator Al Grasmoen, they indicate that by 1960, 75% of skiers at the Snow Bowl were from the Phoenix area.52 The development of the Snow Bowl’s Agassiz Ski Lift had a profound effect on the ski area. Prior to 1962, the primary method of transport to the top of a ski run was the tow rope. The prominent Snow Bowl version of this was a rope which would pull skiers uphill for approximately 3,000 feet using a pulley system and a gasoline motor, often taken from a tractor. The skier would start at the bottom of the slope and grasp the tow rope, maintaining balance while being pulled to the top of the ski run. Tow ropes were somewhat slow and required a significant effort. Those who used them describe the amount of exertion required to make it to the top. At the end of the day, it often felt as though one’s arms had been stretched to twice their previous length. The chair lift changed all of this by requiring almost no physical exertion to go uphill. One could get the freedom and connection to nature without the inconveniences usually required on the ascent. At the Snow Bowl, this meant that the views of places like the Grand Canyon and Kendrick Peak were easier to come by, thus further trivializing nature, and divorcing the skier from the environmental and development consequences which made the views possible. Further, it helped to foster the dichotomy that work and physical exertion are divorced from one’s experience of nature. By the 1960s, skiing at the Snow Bowl had been transformed. Travel from Phoenix was easier due to shorter travel times and well52

The 1960 Olympics Committee of the Flagstaff Chamber of Commerce, Flagstaff, to Avery Brundage, New York, 31 January 1956, Avery Brundage Collection, University Library, University of Illinois at Champagne-Urbana, Box 187; “Arizona Snowbowl-Upgrade and Improvement History, January, 2002,” Snow Bowl Files, Arizona Snow Bowl, Flagstaff; Daily Sun, 28 December 1959, 4 January 1960. 39

plowed roads. Innovations in ski technology such as step-in safety bindings which released during dangerous falls, and plastic boots which reduced injuries and enhanced a skier’s abilities by increasing one’s sense of comfort and improving connection to the snow. The result was that skiers could “learn more easily, turn more quickly, ski faster, gain confidence, and ultimately have more fun skiing.” The introduction of the ski lift further enabled the enthusiast to make more runs with less exertion.53 As skiing in Flagstaff developed during this period, a culture developed which mirrored larger trends throughout the nation. Much of this included a desire to mimic the fashions of the Alps, where skiing and the ski industry were more established. For American skiers, a certain amount of social capital could be obtained through sporting Obermeyer sweaters, Bogner stretch pants or la Dolomite ski boots. Ski resorts were also savvy to hire well-known skiers from the Alps to run their ski schools and top European chefs to cook in their kitchens. It was not lost on American consumers that those who modeled ski fashions in ads and those who taught skiing and cooked at resorts were all Anglo. Thus it followed that skiers in America were overwhelmingly white and eager to demonstrate a panache that was as much connected to race as to fashion.54 Though not able to maintain pace with the larger resorts of the West, skiers at the Snow Bowl were still anxious to display their cultural clout. Anne Leighton began skiing at the Snow Bowl in the late 1940s and witnessed these trends. Referring to European ski

Beamer Interview; Coleman, Ski Style, 119-135; Richard White “Are you an Environmentalist or do you Work for a Living ?: Work and Nature,” Uncommon Ground: Rethinking the Human Place in Nature, ed. William Cronon. (New York: W.W. Norton and Company, 1996), 171-185. 53

Annie Gilbert Coleman, “The Unbearable Whiteness if Skiing,” in Pacific Historical Review, 65, no. 4 (1996), 583-614. 54

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fashions she exclaimed, “There were very few American manufacturers and so European skis were superior and everyone skied in European clothing, and when Bogner came up with the stretch pants, it was really cool….We all bowed down to the Europeans, and it was very fashionable to be associated with them.” Even outside of ski areas, European ski style carried cachet. According to Leighton, it indicated that “I ski and you don’t, and I’m cool.”55 In 1966, the Snow Bowl made further efforts to emulate international ski style and culture by hiring former Austrian World Downhill Champion Christian Pravda to lead its ski school. The luring of Pravda from Sun Valley represented a tradition in Western ski towns of hiring Austrian ski champions to promote skiing and resort culture. Furthermore, it was part of a “nationwide publicity campaign to entice skiers.” For some Flagstaff residents such as John Beamer, it was quite successful. Explaining the importance of Pravda to his attachment to skiing as a youngster he exuded, “I had a poster of Pravda on the wall of my bedroom; he was kind of an idol of mine.” Though acknowledging the importance of his name and European appeal to attract customers to the Snow Bowl, Leighton claims that Pravda was a poor instructor. “His idea of instructing was just point your skis down the hill and follow me…‘bend zee [sic] knees, follow me.’” Apparently, skiing expertise did not translate into teaching skill.56 Though Pravda’s hiring brought the Snow Bowl increased recognition, it also demonstrated how far behind the ski area had fallen relative to the major resorts of the 55

Leighton Interview.

Pravda’s hiring and the 1966 Snow Bowl promotion is described in Arizona Republic, 16 January 1966, 10-C; Austrian ski instructors and resort culture are explained in Coleman, Ski Style, 59, 76; Beamer Interview; Leighton Interview. 56

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West. The trend of hiring Austrian ski instructors began in the late 1930s. Though still popular, it had lost its importance in the upper echelons of American ski culture by the 1960s. In addition, Pravda’s victory in international ski racing came in 1954. In other words, Pravda was long past his prime, and his name, though still recognizable in skiing circles, had lost some of its luster. In the same way, by 1966 the Snow Bowl could no longer make claims of greatness when compared to the booming ski resorts of the West.57 At the Snow Bowl, race and socioeconomic status were prime determiners of which groups were generally not found on the slopes. One of these groups was lumberjacks. Until the late 1960s, timber easily outpaced every other economic activity in Flagstaff. However, those who cut and milled trees were rarely found at the Snow Bowl; this was quite ironic considering the intimate role of tree cutting in the creation of ski areas, and the role of men like former timber staff officer Edward Groesbeck in the genesis of the Snow Bowl. Non-Anglos were rarely spotted at the ski area either. Jim Babbitt grew up skiing in Flagstaff, yet can only recall seeing one non-white skier there. Leighton agrees. When asked to recall how often she saw non-Anglos at the Snow Bowl, she responded, “very seldom, and it was a big surprise (when I have seen someone who is not white).” Analysis of the Sun in winter years between 1938 and 1950, along with sporadic years in the 1950s revealed not a single photograph of a non-white on skis. Examination of archive photography and a Snow Bowl skiing video from 1952 uncovered only one non-Anglo. The Snow Bowl, like most ski areas throughout the

57

Coleman, Ski Style, 59, 76, 147-180. 42

West, was an island of homogeneity in the midst of a region becoming increasingly diverse.58 The segment of the population most conspicuous for their absence on the slopes was Native Americans. Flagstaff has long had a significant population of Navajos and Hopis, and a large number of them have done their shopping in Flagstaff, the largest town within easy driving distance from either reservation. Rather than marketing skiing to this segment of the population, the Snow Bowl and Flagstaff skiers used Native American imagery to sell the ski area and skiing-related organizations to Anglos. This idea was present at the origin of the Snow Bowl. In 1939, when Flagstaff civic organizations were asked to vote on a name for the ski area, five of the nine choices offered to them contained Navajo or Hopi words. Especially prominent in Snow Bowl marketing was the use of Hopi Kachinas, spirits who reside on the Peaks for part of the year. In the 1950s, the local youth ski club called itself the Kachina Ski Club. An annual ski race held at the Snow Bowl was called the Kachina Cup. And, in 1964, one of the many Snow Bowl operators between 1962 and 1967 used a Kachina doll on Snow Bowl letterhead. All of this is quite ironic when one considers that for Hopis, Kachinas derive their power from the Peaks in their natural state. Thus, the appropriation of them by ski developers robbed the Kachinas of their power in the natural world and instead enlisted their aid for development purposes. In Flagstaff, skiers could also encounter Native American culture another way. The city has long been a place where tourists come to purchase Navajo and 58

Leighton Interview; Jim Babbitt, interview by author, 2 January 2007; Coconino Sun, December-March, 1938-1951, 1954, 1957, 1959; Daily Sun, DecemberMarch, 1960-1962; archival research was done using the word “skiing,” yielding 14 photographs of 44 skiers in Colorado Plateau Digital Archives, Cline Library, Northern Arizona University; The San Francisco Peaks, Flagstaff, 12 min. 54 sec, 1952. DVD. Copy in possession of author and obtained from Jane Jackson of Phoenix. 43

Pueblo arts and crafts. Skiers who stay overnight have been generally more wealthy than the average tourist and thus were frequent purchasers of Indian goods. It could then be possible to spend an entire ski vacation surrounded by Native American imagery, from the marketing which precipitated the trip, to the competitions witnessed at the Snow Bowl, to the leisure time spent in Flagstaff afterwards, without ever encountering a Hopi or a Navajo.59 Women also had defined roles as skiers between the 1940s and 1960s at the Snow Bowl. Though witnessed far more often than minorities, they generally were viewed as either beauty queens, consumers, or sex objects. Regardless of the role, they were not supposed to challenge male prowess on the slopes. Consider their roles in a 1952 homemade film of the Snow Bowl entitled San Francisco Peaks, Flagstaff. Most of the women in the film are pictured on the easy slopes near the lodge or at the lodge itself. Their hair is almost always perfectly coiffed and their make-up appears to be completely in place. The message seems to be that women can ski and be feminine at the same time, perhaps even that the two complement each other. During the film two women are shown skiing with the men on the more advanced slopes. However, they are never portrayed executing maneuvers that emphasize speed or doing tricks, both of which were common in male portrayals during the film. Ironically, this representation of women in Flagstaff is ahistorical. Among the many early skiers in Flagstaff, the only ones to

59

Coconino Sun, 10 March 1939, 22 November 1958; Daily Sun, 28 January 1979; William P. Brown, Phoenix to Mack Forrester, Flagstaff, 25 February 1964, Flagstaff Chamber of Commerce Records (1871-1999), Cline Library, Northern Arizona University, Series 2, Box 5, Folder 22; Future citations will refer to this collection as FCC; Native American imagery and ski areas is addressed in Coleman, “The Unbearable Whiteness of Skiing,” 605-610. 44

achieve success beyond Arizona were women. Flagstaff local Brynhyld Grasmoen was selected as a member of the 1948 women’s Olympic skiing team, and Jerry Nunn became one of the first women to be accepted into the U.S. Ski Patrol and later became a pioneer in avalanche control at ski areas. Finally, in the segment which portrays first-time skiers falling down and generally fumbling about in their awkwardness, all but one of the skiers are women. The only close-up shots offered in this segment are of women once they have fallen, smiling and looking fashionable and well-groomed.60 The amateur film also offers a portrayal of the female skier as a sex object. In the film segment titled “Even the Cameraman has Fun” three young ladies are filmed scantily clad in short shorts, beginning with a still shot of just their legs, and then a 20 second segment observing them skiing together on the beginner slope. Despite the rustic nature of the film, it demonstrates an innate understanding of the gender roles available for women skiers. They could be sexy, savvy, and even athletic, as long as their athleticism did not transcend the boundaries of acceptable femininity or call into question the strength and skiing skill of the man.61 For the first three decades of its operations, the Snow Bowl encountered almost no opposition to development. Local business, civic organizations, the Forest Service, the Flagstaff Chamber of Commerce and Phoenix skiers and commercial interests actively pursued its success. However, two examples of the limitations of recreational skiing exist prior to 1970. The first was a 1957 proposal to develop a new ski area on Mt.

60

Coleman, Ski Style, 61-68; The San Francisco Peaks, Flagstaff; Coconino Sun, 11 March 1949; Nunn Interview. 61

Coleman, Ski Style, 61-68; The San Francisco Peaks, Flagstaff. 45

Sugarloaf in the Inner Basin portion of the Peaks. In addition to ski lifts and runs, it projected horse stables, a golf course and cabins. In turning down the application, the Forest Service cited the adequacy at that time of the Snow Bowl, and that the permit size of the proposed area was too large. Most importantly, it pointed out that part of the requested permit area lay within the boundaries of the Flagstaff city watershed. Another proposal was made in 1966 to have the city of Flagstaff purchase the Snow Bowl since it had fallen on difficult financial times. Despite pleas from Phoenix skiers who viewed the ski area as the only place within a day’s drive to ski, the issue was dropped due to the financial burden it would have created for the city and the hope that a private investor would purchase the ski area.62 The most emphatically stated opposition to the new ski area was on the grounds of water. Most of the West, Flagstaff included, is somewhat arid, and water sources are difficult to come by. Political lives have been won and lost through the failure and success in acquiring water rights. Skiing in Flagstaff, no matter how important, would never be allowed to jeopardize access to water. At a meeting to discuss the proposal it was brought out that “water is the No. 1 item in the West and it receives priority over virtually all other consideration.”63 On the other hand, neither proposal was rejected for environmental, development, or cultural reasons. Situated in the interior of an extinct volcano, the Inner Basin area contained within the 1957 proposal is one of stunning beauty and ecological diversity. 62

Daily Sun, 17 October 1957, 23 October 1957.

63

Daily Sun, 17 October 1957, 23 October 1957; for a more full discussion of the importance of water in the West, see Mark Reisner, Cadillac Desert: The American West and Its Disappearing Water, (New York: Penguin Books, 1986), 308-371. 46

Resort development there would have scarred the landscape and limited access for locals and others who were not paying guests, yet no published objections on these bases were offered. Culturally, thirteen Native American tribes regard the San Francisco Peaks as sacred. Flagstaff’s refusal to purchase the Snow Bowl in 1966 came as no surprise, since it would have burdened the city with huge debt. Instead, what intrigues most is that the city included in its rejection a statement of support for future development at the Snow Bowl. Indeed, the failure of the two proposals demonstrates that even into the mid1960s, little opposition from the political or business community in Flagstaff existed to the exploitation of nature for recreation or profit. That was about to change.64 The next attempt to develop skiing on the Peaks came in 1970. Summit Properties, which owned the rights to operate the Snow Bowl and a large parcel on nearby Hart Prairie, submitted a request to turn its property into luxury ski and golf condominiums with an exclusive lift which could transport owners and guests to the slopes. Modeled after Vail in 1962, the plan had been replicated by a number of Western resorts. Though Coconino County and the Flagstaff City Council initially granted approval and the Forest Service was not originally opposed, the proposed resort created a firestorm of local opposition, including anti-development forces, environmentalists, and Navajo and Hopi tribe members who regarded the San Francisco Peaks as sacred. This eventually caused the plan to fail, and the Hart Prairie property was sold to the Forest

Daily Sun, 17 October 1957, 23 October 1957; Jameson M. Fink, “The Hart Prairie/San Francisco Peaks Controversy: Culture, Land, and Conflict,” (Masters Thesis, Northern Arizona University, 1998), 68. 64

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Service along with the rights to operate the Snow Bowl. No luxury condominiums were built and Hart Prairie remained undeveloped.65 This so called “Save the Peaks” campaign again shed light on how Flagstaff, and the nation at large, had transformed its thinking in the ten years previous to the controversy. A burgeoning environmental movement in the 1960s called into question the dominant view of nature as a commodity. This took the form of opposition to unbridled extraction of resources such as timber and minerals, support for the creation of Wilderness areas, questioning business practices which could be conceived as harmful, and legislation which restricted development. Most pertinent to the Summit proposal was the National Environmental Protection Act (NEPA) in 1969. Among other things, it mandated studies of environmental impacts and public input prior to the development of federal lands. This requirement allowed the public to increase its awareness of the project, slowed the pace of the project enough for organized resistance to coalesce, and gave opposition a venue to be heard. Moreover, though it is certain that opposition to unbridled development in Flagstaff existed prior to 1970, the Hart Prairie controversy gave it an organized voice, one whose presence did not dissipate once the Summit proposal had fizzled.66

65

Summaries of the controversy can be found in Arthur R. Gomez, The Quest for the Golden Circle, The Four Corners and the Metropolitan West, 1945-1970, (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1994), 181-184, and Fink, 1-28. 66

An overview of national changes in environmental thought is provided in Roderick Nash, Wilderness and the American Mind, (New York: Yale University Press, 1967), 248-271; Various viewpoints in opposition to the Hart Prairie proposal are found in Fink, 29-45; also see Martin Flynn, “The Town and the Forest: Flagstaff and the Coconino National Forest” (Master’s Thesis, Northern Arizona University, 2003), 52. 48

The national changes of the 1960s do not by themselves explain the change in mindset toward development, tourism and the environment. Between 1950 and 1970, Flagstaff nearly tripled its population from 9,000 to almost 26,000 residents. In that time, the timber industry, which had been the primary employer in the 1950’s, had dropped to 4th place, supplanted by tourism, which generated approximately one-third of all sales taxes in 1970.67 The pace of growth, the character of the town, and a growing environmental movement were significant factors influencing locals to question the prodevelopment ethos. Furthermore, Flagstaff in 1970 was enabled by the hindsight (and foresight) to see how ski resort development had refashioned the character of other Western towns. In a telling letter addressed to the Flagstaff Chamber of Commerce in 1974, response to the Hart Prairie controversy, local resident J.W. [full name not given] decried the rampant development of resorts around the West and the ensuing loss of local character, worrying that this had already happened locally: Flagstaff gave up its own history to be a bad imitation of someplace else. If the traveler wanted honky-tonks, he’d go to Las Vegas; if he wanted skiing he’d go to Aspen…. But NONE of those places could imitate the rare “firsts” and unique history which belongs to Flag alone—and so many junior jerks are killing that because they want to go to Las Vegas, or build a cheap copy in Flag.68 Flagstaff’s attempt to develop a winter sports mecca beyond its regional borders hit a wall with the Hart Prairie controversy. Local opposition and national legislation forged

67

Gomez, 162.

68

J.W. to Jack (Flagstaff), 20 March, 1974, in Flagstaff Chamber of Commerce Records (1871-1999), Cline Library, Northern Arizona University, Series 4, Box 1, Folder 10.

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boundaries for winter recreation in Flagstaff. This proved to be the last attempt to expand the Snow Bowl beyond its regional reach. It did not, however, prevent further development. In 1976, Northland Corporation purchased the developments at the Snow Bowl and the lease on the 777 acre permit area for the ski area. In July of 1977, it unveiled plans to further develop the area including increasing its carrying capacity from approximately 500 skiers to nearly 3,000. Northland called for five new lifts, construction of 120 acres of new ski trails, a larger ski lodge, and significant improvements to Snow Bowl Road. In June, 1978, a draft Environmental Impact Statement (EIS) was submitted for public comment. Though a final decision on the Northland plan was expected in the fall of that year it was delayed to address how new national legislation might impact the plan. In August, 1978, the Carter administration passed the American Indian Religious Freedom Act (AIRFA) which, among other things, guaranteed Native Americans access to their sacred sites. Since the entirety of the San Francisco Peaks is considered sacred to thirteen tribes (though only the Hopi and Navajo were consulted in the EIS), a final decision had to take this into account.69 Despite the limitations in the new legislation, Coconino National Forest Supervisor Michael Kerrick approved full development of the permit area. While acknowledging the potentially harmful effects to Hopi and Navajo religious practices and adverse effects on the environment, Kerrick cited the lack of adequate facilities for the growing number of skiers in Arizona, the potentially positive economic impact on 69

Fink, 17-22; U.S. Department of Agriculture, Forest Service, Southwestern Region, Final Environmental Statement: Arizona Snow Bowl Ski Area Proposal (Albuquerque: U.S. Forest Service, 1979), 9-13, hereafter this will be referred to as Snow Bowl Ski Area Proposal. 50

Flagstaff, and the belief that harmful environmental effects could be mitigated as the justifications for his decision. After an appeal by Navajos, Hopis, and a coalition of environmentalists, Kerrick’s decision was overturned in February, 1980, by regional forester M.J. Hassell. Citing violations of AIRFA, the Endangered Species Act, and the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA), Hassell stated that only the repair of existing facilities would be allowed. Northland then appealed the decision to Max Peterson, National Chief of the Forest Service, who reinstated the original decision. A final appeal was then made to the Supreme Court based on Hassell’s earlier decision to block development.70 During the EIS and litigation periods, a growth coalition re-emerged in support of an expanded Snow Bowl. This group included the Forest Service, the Chambers of Commerce in Flagstaff and Phoenix, the Arizona Republic and Arizona Daily Sun, various skier and recreational groups, and prominent Arizona politicians including Senators Barry Goldwater and Dennis DeConcini, U.S. Congressman Bob Stump and Flagstaff native, Governor Bruce Babbitt. Their arguments would have been quite recognizable to the urban growth machine of the 1940s and 1950s. They stressed the potential economic gain for the city of Flagstaff through increased tourism and job creation and the need to provide recreation for skiers in Arizona who had few options to choose from in their own state. They also employed a history of the Snow Bowl, whitewashed of past conflict. Though this seems innocuous, eliminating the conflicts of

70

Fink, 17-22. 51

the past normalizes future development by lending it an aura of inevitability, as though opposition is blocking the natural order of progress.71 Though the development ethos had not changed since the 1940s, most growth coalition members had acknowledged the limits of development at the Snow Bowl. Regional Forester Hassell, in his eventually overturned decision to allow only repair of existing facilities, stated that the Snow Bowl “is not an outstanding winter sports area when measured against national standards, nor can it ever be made into one.” Supporters of development, outraged by Hassell’s statement, nonetheless did not argue with it. They acknowledged that the ski area would always remain within its small permit area and that improving it would be for the benefit mainly of desert residents who could not afford the time or money to vacation at the more posh ski resorts of the West. Furthermore, Governor Babbitt, seeking to ensure that this would be true (and perhaps to satisfy the

71

Examples of growth coalition rhetoric and support can be found in Snow Bowl Ski Area Proposal 6, 220-281, Arizona Republic, 15 February 1980; political examples of political support include “Governor Babbitt Responds to Hassell’s Snow Bowl Decision,” Daily Sun, 24 March 1980, Senator Barry Goldwater, Phoenix to Chief Max Peterson, Washington, D.C., 5 March 1980, Bob Stump, Phoenix to William Roosen, Flagstaff, 6 January 1981, both letters found in NAU Vertical Files, Snow Bowl #1; support from the Daily Sun is evidenced by the writings of long-time editor, Platt Cline who wrote a brief history of the Snow Bowl and an exhaustive history of Flagstaff which fail to mention any conflict in the ski area’s history, Platt Cline, “Beginning of Winter Sports,” Daily Sun, 7 October 1975, Platt Cline, Mountain Town: Flagstaff’s First Century (Flagstaff: Northland Publishing, 1994); The idea of history being enlisted in maintaining the status quo is embodied in the idea of habitus, found in Pierre Bourdieu, The Logic of Practice (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1980), 56, 65; the Flagstaff Chamber of Commerce officially remained neutral, but the comments of several of its members indicated its prodevelopment stance, Daily Sun, 6 January 1981. 52

widest audience), proposed that ski area expansion be accompanied by wilderness designation for much of the area which surrounded the Snow Bowl.72 Though possessing different systems of belief and practice, Navajos and Hopis both opposed the idea of development on the Peaks, believing that human-induced changes to this sacred place would reduce its healing power, cause much needed rains not to fall, and contribute to the erosion of their cultures. Though proponents of the expansion pointed out that the ski area only occupied 1% of the Peaks, Navajos and Hopis responded that culture and religion cannot be divided. Trying to use terms that Anglos might understand, Navajo Tribal President Peterson Zah retorted, “It’s like having ski lifts operating on the top of your Catholic church.” Hopis saw a direct correlation between development on the Peaks and the failure of the monsoon to bring much needed rains in 1979.73 Other opposition coalesced around damage to the ecosystem on the Peaks and climate issues. Anti-development and environmental groups such as Friends of the Peaks implicated the Snow Bowl in the reduction of habitat for wildlife and a variety of plants, indicating that tree cutting for new trails and the increased use that expanded facilities entailed would exacerbate harmful effects. They also expressed concern over the

72

Norman Johnson, Snow Bowl President (Flagstaff) to Governor Bruce Babbitt (Phoenix), 14 February 1980 in NAU Vertical Files, Snow Bowl #1; “Forest Service’s decision on Snow Bowl a cop-out,” Arizona Republic, 15 February 1980.; “Governor Bruce Babbitt Responds to Hassell’s Snow Bowl Decision,” Daily Sun, 24 March 1980. “A Fight for Rites,” Newsweek, 9 April 1979, 98; Sacred Mountain Notes, Fall, 1979, in NAU Vertical Files, Snow Bowl #1; A more detailed explanation of the relationship between Hopis and Navajos and the Peaks can be found in John Duncklee, Man, Land Relationships on the San Francisco Peaks (Flagstaff: Museum of Northern Arizona, undated), 73-76. 73

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increased noise and air pollution that would ensue from the widening of Snow Bowl Road. Opponents of development also raised the issue of whether the climate on the Peaks was then or ever had been suitable to ski resort development, citing that “snow conditions favor winter sports 3 out of 5 years.” This called into question whether heavy investment in the Snow Bowl would be able to be recovered. The answer may have been in a rarely cited portion of the Northland proposal which advocated artificial snowmaking, something Friends of the Peaks decried as unnatural and an ecologically irresponsible use of water. Acknowledging these realities, the Forest Service responded by saying that the adverse effects of expansion could be ‘mitigated.’ Their arguments prevailed, as the Supreme Court refused to hear the appeal by tribal groups and environmentalists, allowing development of the Snow Bowl to stand.74 By 1987, the wishes of Governor Babbitt and others like him to see an expanded Snow Bowl alongside a wilderness area were brought to fruition. In the five years since Northland had received approval for expanded facilities, three new chairlifts were constructed, four new ski trails were cleared, and the Kachina Peaks Wilderness, surrounding much of the upper slopes of the Snow Bowl, was created. Though this seemed to be a compromise, it highlighted the growing division between skiing proponents and anti-development and environmental groups. The Kachina Peaks Wilderness contained 14,650 acres of roadless area free from development. Just across its boundary existed a 777 acre enterprise whose survival depended on the ability to alter and package nature for the sake of skiers. The ski industry’s success had always been

“Friends of the Peaks,” undated, NAU Vertical Files, Snow Bowl #1; Snow Bowl Ski Area Proposal, 160; Fink, 17-22. 74

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related to packaging the altered landscape it created as a natural one and the chair lift as the vehicle for access to this pristine world. The parallel creation of a wilderness area alongside cutting trees and building chairlifts pointed out this paradox.75 This contradiction was pointed out emphatically in August 1987, when a group of environmentalists from the group Earth First! sabotaged the Agassiz ski lifts at the Snow Bowl, causing damage estimated between $32,000 and $100,000. Calling themselves EMETIC, or Evan Mecham Eco-Terrorist International Conspiracy, the group demanded that the route to the Snow Bowl be left as an unpaved cindered road, all development at the ski area cease, and that Hopi and Navajo leaders be consulted in order to close the Snow Bowl during periods of special religious significance. The name choice, EMETIC, was both ironic and cynical. ‘Evan Mecham,’ the first part of the acronym, was governor of Arizona during EMETIC’s attempted Snow Bowl sabotage. At the time, efforts were being made to recall him for making racially charged statements, mismanaging state funds, and offending his own Republican Party. Despite his pro-business stance, Mecham’s policies and statements hampered tourism in Arizona by associating the state with bigotry and intolerance. Though the recall drive would most likely have proved successful, the state legislature pre-empted the voters by impeaching and convicting Mecham on obstruction of justice charges. ‘Eco-Terrorist,’ the second part of the acronym was cynical, considering that EMETIC did not regard itself as terrorists, but liberators. The final piece, ‘International Conspiracy,’ was also sarcastic considering that

“Arizona Snow Bowl Development and Project Time Line,” and “Arizona Snow Bowl: Time Line for master Concept Plan Presentations, Decisions, Appeals, EIS and Final Determinations,” Snow Bowl Files, Arizona Snow Bowl, Flagstaff; Coleman, Ski Style, 119-120, 209-211. 75

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EMETIC was a very small group and never made claims to be part of a wider conspiracy.76 In 1988, EMETIC again compromised the Agassiz lift by cutting its top terminal. The damage was such that, according to Snow Bowl manager J.R. Murray, the terminal was almost pulled completely over, a result which surely would have damaged other portions of the lift. Though EMETIC was careful to inform the Snow Bowl of the damage to keep guests from riding the chairlift, the potential for injury from the sabotage temporarily halted summertime usage of the Agassiz lift. In addition to its usage by skiers, the lift had been in operation during the summer and fall since the 1960s to provide off-season business for the ski area and provide tourists with views from the high-elevation slopes of Mt Agassiz. As part of a larger government attempt to infiltrate Earth First!, five individuals were indicted in connection with the Snow Bowl vandalism and convicted in 1991.77 The divide between recreational interests and environmentalists was most emphatically demonstrated by the terms they used to describe EMETIC. Skiers, prodevelopment groups and prosecutors in the case were most likely to use the term ‘terrorists’ to characterize EMETIC. This conjures up images of religious and political fanatics willing to use violence or blow themselves up in order to make a statement and quiet opposition. It is a term associated with complete irrationality. Anti-development Damage descriptions are found in Daily Sun, 8 October 1987; Evan Mecham’s political career is summarized in “Even Mecham,” (Wikipedia, 7 March 2007), available at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Evan_Mecham, accessed on 8 March 2007. 77 Damage from the 1989 attack is summarized in Daily Sun, 1 June 1989; EMETIC demands are found in EMETIC to Snow Bowl (Flagstaff), undated, in Snow Bowl Files, Arizona Snow Bowl, Flagstaff; Edward Abbey, The Monkey Wrench Gang, (Philadelphia, Lippincott, 1975). 76

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forces, some environmentalists, and EMETIC attorneys used the term ‘monkeywrenching’ to describe their activities. The term refers to the Edward Abbey novel, The Monkey Wrench Gang, in which four adventurers travel throughout the Southwest in romanticized efforts to save it from over-development. Though EMETIC’s methods were not advocated by mainstream environmentalists, their cause received much support.78 Neither EMETIC nor Earth First! were alone in their willingness to use sabotage to make an ecological point. Since the 1980s, a number of groups throughout the West have used unlawful methods to halt the advance of development into nature. In doing so they have problematized the relationship between outdoor recreation and the environment, highlighting the impact and extractive nature of many outdoor activities and pointing out their paradoxes. For example, hikers who wish to ascend the Peaks more often than not use Snow Bowl Road and ski area parking lots which are both maintained by the Snow Bowl. Those wishing to ascend Mt. Humphreys must begin their trek by taking a trail that begins by traversing the Hart Prairie ski run. Another contradiction exists in the chairlift. Though many Native Americans oppose development on the Peaks, some of them have used the Agassiz chairlift to make travel to sacred sites easier. Of course, transportation to the Snow Bowl requires driving, an essentially extractive activity. Thus, whether one is a skier, a hiker, a tourist, or a Snow Bowl employee, consumption of nature is one of the vehicles used to experience it, or even to protect it. Examples of this rhetoric can be found in “Press Release: EARTH FIRST! Members Sentenced for 1987 Terrorist Attack on Fairfield Snowbowl,” 1 October 1991, Snow Bowl Files, Arizona Snow Bowl, Flagstaff, Daily Sun, 13 November 1988, 1 June 1989, 20 June 1991, 1 July 1990, 17 July 1991, 23 September 1991, and Prescott Sun, 19 June 1991. 78

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Though EMETIC’s activities highlighted the divide between pro- and anti-development interests, they failed to extract a discussion on the essential contradictions inherent in them.79 During the 1970s and 1980s, while the Snow Bowl sought to expand its operations, opportunities for snow play within Flagstaff’s city limits declined. City Park, which had boasted skiing, sledding and skating since 1960, removed its skiing facilities in the early 1970s due to growing pressure from local residents and concerns over liability. On the east side of town, the tow rope and warming hut at Sheep Hill, once operated by the Forest Service, were removed by the 1970s due to concerns over the safety of the ski run. Though several residents have described how dangerously steep the ski run there was, no serious concerns had been raised in 1935, when a local was killed after striking a tree. By 1972, the only managed snow play area was on McMillan Mesa, northeast of downtown. It had a tow rope, poles in the ground for slalom skiing, and even floodlights for night skiing. John Nelson describes hordes of kids up there in the afternoon for the free skiing and lessons which he and others offered. Remembering McMillan Mesa, long-time resident Martha Mulnix adds, “kids were thick up there.” Despite its popularity, facilities were removed by 1980 due to liability concerns and conflicts with Coconino high school which sat at the base of McMillan Mesa, leaving the city without an organized snow play area.80

79

Coleman, Ski Style, 10-11, 208; For further study of contradictions in human/nature relationships see William Cronon, “The Trouble with Wilderness; or Getting Back to the Wrong Nature,” Uncommon Ground: Rethinking the Human Place in Nature, ed. William Cronon (New York: W.W. Norton and Company, 1996), 69-90. 80

Nunn Interview; John Nelson, interview by author, 6 February 2007; Mulnix Interview; Coconino Sun, 11 January 1935. 58

It was not until 1993 that another serious proposal for a city snow play area was put together. Flagstaff’s Tourism Commission sought to create another area on McMillan Mesa that would include skiing, tubing, and perhaps even ice skating. Originally, the Commission hoped the entire project would be funded by BBB (Bed, Board and Booze) funds. These came from a 2% tax at city hotels, bars, and restaurants which would theoretically be used to fund city projects and promote the area’s attractions to tourists. The proposal included snowmaking from reclaimed wastewater. The city already used reclaimed water for its fields, including those at Coconino High at the base of the Mesa. The recycled water normally flowed down the seasonal Rio de Flag in the winter when watering needs were minimal, so snow play proponents argued that it should be put to use for recreation instead. At the time, no opposition to the project was made based on potentially adverse health effects of the reclaimed water. As the cost of the project increased to over $650,000 and the city was only willing to put up $100,000 of its recreation budget, opposition developed over the potential of a tax increase to pay for it. Hopes to have a portion of the snow play area funded privately failed and the project was scrapped in 1994. The issue resurfaced a number of times since then with the same results, including a 2004 proposal which would have included a local tax increase which Flagstaff residents voted down.81 Monetary concerns and private property interests were the primary drivers behind opposition to snow play since the 1970s. One cost which was minimal or non-existent in the 1940s and 1950s was insurance. If someone was hurt skiing or sledding then it was

81

Daily Sun, 5 November 1993, 18 November 1993, 30 November 1993, and 9 May 1994; Nelson Interview. 59

generally considered the responsibility of the individual or family. More recently, as individuals have successfully sued local governments, cities have had to purchase expensive insurance policies for all of their recreation areas. No longer could a city simply clear a sledding area, as Flagstaff did in the 1950s and 1960s, and leave it untended. It also had to manage the area for safety purposes. Adding to this problem in financing a snow play area is an anti-tax ethos throughout the West, and especially Arizona, which has typically caused proposals to hike rates to be viewed with suspicion. Proposals which have been adjacent to private property have encountered opposition from local residents. Though concerns over increased traffic are sometimes cited, opposition also coalesces around property values. As land values since the 1970s have skyrocketed in desirable place such as Flagstaff, home owners rebelled against propositions which have had the potential to decrease their home values. This has been true throughout the West where land speculation and a transient population have caused residents to sink a large portion of their wealth into their homes. The results in Flagstaff have been that snow play areas in town have become a hard sell, and increasing pressure has been placed on the limited resources of forest lands outside the city.82 In multiple ways, winter recreation in Flagstaff has presented limitations in the half century following World War II. The growth of the city required that sledding hills and in-town ski areas be removed to the margins of populated areas to make room for the

82

Daily Sun, 9 May 1994; Molotch, 98; Abbott, 214-242; Environmental concerns may have played a role in opposition to snow play areas, but the Daily Sun gives little evidence that they did. A possible explanation for this is that, unlike the Snow Bowl, which was on public land, snow play proposals were on city land. As a result, environmental opposition had no legal power to force an Environmental Impact Statement or demand public hearings on projects. 60

increase in residents, cars, and tourists until these areas no longer existed. Skiing at the Snow Bowl demonstrated the same cultural restrictions typical of larger resorts around the West where Anglos dominated on the slopes, and ethnic representations were more likely to be observed in a marketing campaign than on a chairlift. Access to winter play has further been narrowed by economics. As snow play areas have been removed from town, and fees have become more likely to be charged, only those with money, transportation and spare time have been able to gain access. Similarly, the disappearance of in-town ski areas and the rising cost of the sport, even at a local area like the Snow Bowl, conspired to make even solidly middle-class families think twice before taking a day to carve up the slopes. Long-time resident and skier Anne Leighton’s tongue-incheek remark on the relationship between skiing, economics and culture summarizes it: “If you are going to promote social justice, ski areas are certainly not the place to start out.”83 The environment has also played a significant role in humbling the aspirations of those who would make Flagstaff and the Snow Bowl into a winter wonderland. Lack of consistent snowfall, predominately sunny winter days, and the partially south-facing aspect of the Snow Bowl provided a slippery slope for promoters of snow-dependent activities. In addition, Snow Bowl history since 1970 has emphasized the limitations of the machine in nature. Cutting trees and constructing chairlifts have conflicted with those who view spirituality, culture and environmental preservation as higher values than recreation or commerce. Winter play in Flagstaff has demonstrated that, despite the

83

Leighton Interview. 61

marginality of its semi-arid climate, there are no limits to the cultural contestations of its seasonal terrain.

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CHAPTER 3 IMAGINING WINTER IN FLAGSTAFF: CREATING A SEASONAL IDENTITY

Skiing provided one way to create a winter identity for Flagstaff, but the Snow Bowl was not the only vehicle allowing people to attach snow to the city’s seasonal image. Among other factors were an annual winter carnival which showcased snow sports, community events, and winter-themed tourist attractions. Promotional advertising and clever articles in newspapers and magazines also allowed people to envision an attractive town mantled in white and framed by azure skies and snowy peaks. Between 1940 and 1990, Flagstaff’s semi-arid winter climate often demonstrated the inconsistency of these snowy visions and required that snow-dependent carnival events be altered or cancelled. Flagstaff’s winter carnival has mirrored other community celebrations in America which have simultaneously sought to promote local identity and boost the economy. In other locales, such as St. Paul, Minnesota, and Steamboat Springs, Colorado, winter festivals have grown out of their past and helped to identify themselves with snow. They have portrayed the obstacles presented by snow and ice as symbols of the physical and moral strength of the community, while promoting winter time leisure activities, such as sledding and snowshoeing, as enjoyable activities unique to their locales and cause for celebration. Festivals also provide a snapshot of community power relations. At first glance, such celebrations seem to draw locals together around shared ideals. But as towns grow, festivals have required a larger infusion of capital and a greater degree of

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centralized planning to carry them out. This has elevated local business communities in the planning aspects of festivals while relegating working class residents to supporting roles, calling into question whose version of community is being celebrated.84 Despite this, local festivals such as the Flagstaff winter carnival were not simply sites where the majority of residents were unwitting dupes of the business community. They also enabled people to ascribe an identity of their own. For locals, this could mean an opportunity to engage in winter play, or to have an excuse to spend time with friends and family and enjoy themselves. Thus, while town boosters hoped that skiing contests and exhibitions, snow-sculptures, and sledding would attract tourists and foster a snowy winter identity for the city, locals often ignored or rejected this characterization of the town and used the festival to affirm their own identity.85 Climate has proven to be both a boon and an obstacle to the promotion of winter identity in Flagstaff. Local historian Richard Mangum points out that, of the cities monitored by the U.S. Weather Service, Flagstaff is one of the ten sunniest and ten 84

The attachment of identity and community celebration is addressed in Bernard Mergen, “Climate, Identity, and Winter Carnivals in North America,” Celebrating Ethnicity and Nation: American Festive Culture from the Revolution to the Early 20th Century, eds. Jurgen Heideking, Genevieve Fabre, and and Kai Dreisbach (New York: Berghahn Books, 2001), 215-227; Tourism and image creation in winter is a prominent theme throughout Hal K. Rothman, Devil’s Bargains: Tourism in the Twentieth-Century American West, (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1998); Power and festival is addressed in Robert H. Lavenda, “Festivals and the Creation of Public Culture: Whose Voice(s)?,” Museums and Communities: The Politics of Public Culture, (Washington D.C.: Smithsonian, 1992), 76-104. 85

Other examples of local festivals where locals use the efforts of the business community to create a separate identity can be found in Bonnie Christensen, Red Lodge and the Mythic West: Coal Miners to Cowboys, (Lawrence: University of Kansas Press, 2002), 127-133, and Robert Lavenda, “It’s Not a Beauty Pageant!”: Hybrid Ideology in Minnesota Community Queen Pageants,” Beauty Queens on the Global Stage: Gender, Contests, and Power, ed. Colleen Cohen, Richard Wilk and Beverly Stoeltje (New York: Routledge: 1996), 31-46. 64

snowiest cities in America. This contrast has aided boosters in claiming that a visit to Flagstaff allows desert residents to experience an authentic snowy climate without having to abandon the sun to which they are accustom. What the statistic obscures is the fact that the sun and often balmy winter temperatures melt the snow rather quickly. In addition, Flagstaff snow totals are wildly erratic, from a low of 11 inches in the winter of 1933-1934, to a high of 210 inches in 1972-1973. Winter boosters have thus existed in the tension between promoting snow-dependent events during winter carnival and the reality that the weather could not be relied upon to provide the necessary element.86 Beginning in the 1970s, winter promoters partially resolved these tensions by ‘deseasonalizing’ winter festivals. This involved minimizing the need to rely on weather typically associated with winter to achieve a successful carnival. Thus, many events were moved indoors, and an increasing number of outdoor activities were those which could occur during any season. At the same time, festivities were infused with a winter theme. This included concerts with winter-related decorations, displays of winter photography, and indoor seminars which instructed visitors in the art of survival in the winter outdoors. As a result, locals and tourists were encouraged to imagine winter in Flagstaff, even if the weather typically associated with the season was absent.87 Winter identity in Flagstaff has also been aided by the use of visual representations of nature. Most promotional materials for the city in winter have been framed by photographs, postcards, calendars, newspapers, books and magazines which Richard Mangum, “Snow Records,” 2005, copies in possession of author and Richard Mangum; U.S. Department of Commerce, Local Climatological Data: Annual Summary with Comparative Data, Flagstaff, Arizona, 1970 and 1986. 86

87

The idea of deseasonalization is explained in Bernard Mergen, Snow in America, (Washington D.C.: Smithsonian Institute, 1997), 59-62. 65

feature the snow-clad San Francisco Peaks. Located 10 miles north of the city and rising to a height of almost 12,700 feet, the Peaks have provided an aesthetically pleasing backdrop in various attempts to market the city in winter. Tourists and locals have then been influenced to envision the natural environment outside the city limits as the primary marker of Flagstaff’s winter identity. Thus, the consumption of amenities such as restaurants, hotels, souvenirs and local retail products cannot be separated from the consumption of the natural world framed by the San Francisco Peaks.88 Books and magazines provide one example of the use of the Peaks as an identity marker for Flagstaff. The two most recent local histories of the city, Mountain Town, and Flagstaff: Past and Present have featured covers with the Peaks in all their winter glory. In each, the city is in the foreground, but the Peaks clearly occupy prominence. Arizona Highways, a magazine devoted to promoting the state’s scenic attractions exemplifies the trend. Each year, its December issue has featured a segment devoted to the various Arizona seasons in pictures. Between 1959 and 1985, a version of the snow-covered San Francisco Peaks viewed from a distance appeared in 20 out of 27 issues. In 1982, the magazine featured a full issue spread titled, “Flagstaff: A Destination in its Own Right.” Though complemented with numerous photographs of the city, only one shows the city

Examples include Platt Cline, Mountain Town: Flagstaff’s First Century, (Flagstaff: Northland Publishing, 1994), cover; Richard and Sherry Mangum, Flagstaff: Past and Present, (Flagstaff: Northland Publishers, 2003), cover; “Flagstaff: A Unique Destination in its own Right,” Arizona Highways, June, 1982, 2-31; “Greetings from Flagstaff, Arizona,” Postcard Series (Flagstaff: Mirror-Krome,” Division of H.S. Crocker Co., Inc., for Fronske Studio: Undated) in Northern Arizona Pioneers Historical Society, Photos 296-8, 11, and 12; Flagstaff Winter Festival Schedule, February, 1990, in Flagstaff Vertical File, Flagstaff Main Library, “Winterfest”; Kelly Carlson, “Tourism: Promote,” Arizona Daily Sun, 25 August 1997, 1. 88

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with any snow. Meanwhile, nine of the photographs show either the snow-covered Peaks or the Arizona Snow Bowl, located on one of the San Francisco Peaks.89 A glance at Flagstaff postcards also yields similar results. In a package of twelve 1960s postcards titled, “Greetings from Flagstaff, Arizona,” there are four winter scenes included. In two of them, the city provides a foreground for the prominently featured snow-covered Peaks. Another finds the city absent while a view of the Peaks through pine trees is presented. The fourth features the ski lodge at the Snow Bowl. An additional commonality in all of the post cards is that they feature snow against the backdrop of a clear blue sky, indicating that the ideal for tourists is snow divorced from the conditions which created it. To a Phoenix resident, it communicates winter in complete comfort, a hazard-free drive to Flagstaff, and beauty separated from harshness.90 Such visual representations have commodity as well as aesthetic values. Tourists are attracted through appealing visuals and slogans which signify a place. The snowcovered San Francisco Peaks have provided such a signifier for Flagstaff. This is especially true for skiing where, “ideal photographic conditions have a habit of synchronizing with superb snow conditions.” Contrasting a clear blue sky with freshly fallen snow provides an ideal palette for photographers and causes avid skiers to forget whatever else was on their agenda for a day on the slopes.91

89

Cline, Mountain Town, cover; Mangum, Flagstaff: Past and Present, cover; “Flagstaff: A Unique Destination,” 2-31. 90

“Greetings from Flagstaff,” Photos 296-8, 11, and 12.

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The importance of natural visuals as a signifier of place is found in Jeffrey Hopkins, “Commodifying the Countryside: Marketing Myths of Rurality,” Tourism and 67

Slogans can have the same effect. In 1990, the catchphrase for winter festival printed on the front of the brochure was “A Mountain Full of Winter Fun,” despite the fact that few carnival events were located on any mountains, and in 1997, the Flagstaff Visitors Bureau promoted visitation with the phrase, “Flagstaff: Arizona at its Peak.” Consequently, when Arizona desert dwellers plan vacations to Flagstaff in the winter, they are more likely to visualize the San Francisco Peaks in a mantle of white than the city itself.92 Representations of the Peaks in winter have also been common in media which are marketed primarily to locals. Since the 1940s, the local newspaper has used a variety of Peaks iconography. During the 1940s and 1950s, the Coconino Sun banner employed the Peaks in black silhouette on a white background on the front page. The 1970s and 1980s witnessed the use of a more cartoonish version of the Peaks on the cover, with trees on the lower slopes, and a blanket of snow on top. From 1989 through the early 1990s, the Daily Sun employed a photograph of the Peaks on the front page which featured a pasture in the foreground and the mountains completely enveloped in snow in the background. City parks have also used Peaks iconography. In 1986, the Flagstaff Parks and Recreation Commission approved new signs to direct people to various intown parks. They featured the Peaks clad in winter white in the foreground, flanked by “FLAGSTAFF” in large bold letters, and “Parks and Recreation” in smaller type below.

Recreation in Rural Areas, Richard Butler, C. Michael Hall, John Jenkins, eds. (New York: John Wiley and Sons, 1998), 139-156; Mergen, Snow in America, 219-220. Hopkins, “Commodifying the Countryside,” 139-156; Flagstaff Winter Festival Schedule, “Winterfest,” 1990; “Tourism: Promote,” 1. 92

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As a result of these and other images, locals are encouraged to visualize a natural landmark outside city limits as representative of the amenities inside them.93 It is tempting to view these images of the Peaks as rather benign. However, history has argued otherwise. Prior to the 20th Century, representations of nature were often viewed with an eye to its potential material productivity. This generally involved the ability of nature to provide agricultural, mining, lumbering, ranching or grazing possibilities. As tourism has become an important part of the Flagstaff economy in the years following World War II, nature has increasingly been understood as something to be admired or explored. Though this vantage point requires that less be done to transform the landscape, it is no less extractive than previous uses. The San Francisco Peaks are an element of nature put to utilitarian purposes since they aid in the creation of Flagstaff’s identity as a city framed by awe-inspiring beauty and tourist attractions.94 One of the Peaks, Mt. Agassiz, provided the primary site for the first decade of winter carnivals, beginning in February, 1939. Since its development coincided with the growing popularity of the Snow Bowl, skiing figured prominently in its early manifestations. However, alongside downhill, cross-country, and slalom races, early carnivals also featured tobogganing, snow sculptures, bobsledding, ice skating, dances, ski movies and banquets. Each year also highlighted various novelties such as a tug-ofwar on skis and an egg race in which competitors would zoom down the slopes carrying 93

Covers for the Coconino Sun and the Arizona Daily Sun were analyzed between 1939 and 1992; An example of the sign used for Flagstaff Parks and Recreation is found in Daily Sun, 11 March 1986. 94

19th century views of nature and productivity are described in Pratt, Imperial Eyes, 146-191; The extractive nature of tourism is described in Rothman, Devil’s Bargains, 12-14. 69

an egg in a spoon and attempt to deftly drop it into a plastic container. As if to accentuate the comic nature of such events races were held annually for those who had never been on skis, no doubt prioritizing spectacular crashes and collisions over skill and speed. Figuring prominently among the participants were owners of local businesses who stood to benefit from a well-attended carnival.95 These early carnivals showcased the same urban growth promoters who were vested in the success of the Snow Bowl. Between 1939 and 1949, the Chamber of Commerce, Forest Service, county and state officials, local civic organizations and the Coconino Sun either sponsored, promoted or volunteered equipment and manpower to making the festivals possible. Their message contained a similar ring as well. For events held at the Snow Bowl, boosters claimed that the snow was excellent and both the roads and the weather were clear. To promote Flagstaff, boosters communicated that winter enthusiasts were traveling from great distances to attend the carnival and that hotels were filling up fast, but that visitors could still find plentiful accommodations at low off-season rates. Beginning in 1946, several Phoenix radio stations began to broadcast the events of the carnival, contributing to a majority of tourists from outside the immediate Flagstaff area attending festivities, a pattern which would increase in years to follow.96

95

Examples of events can be found in Coconino Sun, 3 February 1939, 13 February 1939, 23 February 1940, 22 February 1946, 14 March 1947, and 11 March 1949. 96

Examples of promotion and sponsorship include Coconino Sun, 3 February 1939, 10 February 1939, 26 January 1940, 17 February 1946, 22 February 1946; Examples of increasing Phoenix participation are noted by comparing Daily Sun, 23 February 1940 and 17 February 1946. 70

Promotion of the winter carnival during its first decade employed gender roles which presented skiing as a sport available to women and sexualized them in the process. In 1941, Reg Manning, cartoonist for the Arizona Republic, published an illustration of winter events in Arizona. At the center is featured an advertisement for that year’s Flagstaff Winter Carnival. The ad highlights an attractive young girl on skis who seems to have fallen into the snow. Wearing shorts with a minimum of coverage, she sports a bright smile and shiny hair while the caption below reads, “To Ski or not the Ski – That is the Question.” Though the cartoon’s stated purpose is to pose the question to Phoenicians of whether or not they should visit Flagstaff to ski, the viewer is also left to wonder what other activities this scantily clad young girl would participate in were she to choose “not to ski….”97 The crowning of the Winter Carnival Queen constructed gender in similar fashion. Carnival queens were chosen by a panel of three judges from among female skiers who entered the downhill competition. Though criteria for judging included skiing ability, this counted for only one-third of the point total. The other two-thirds consisted of equal parts dress and beauty. The newly crowned monarch then presided over an evening dance where she awarded medals to the top three male finishers at that day’s slalom race.98 Photographs of the winner and her court in 1949 provide a snapshot of the requirements. That year’s queen, Elizabeth Hoffman Carter, is pictured on skis adorned

97

“Arizona Snow Bowl Carnival,” Arizona Republic, 16 February 1941.

An example of the judging criteria is found in “Three-Day Snow Carnival Opens this Morning with Midgley Race,” 22 February 1946. 98

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in a snug-fitting nurse’s outfit highlighted by a short skirt which appears unsuited for the rigors of downhill skiing. Her hair is perfectly coiffed and crowned by a nurse’s cap. She is flanked by two friends in even shorter shorts, revealing tops, and similarly impeccable grooming. Though Carter was an accomplished skier and this contributed to her being named queen, the photograph emphasizes femininity and sexuality. Furthermore, Carter’s costume may have played a part in her selection. Nursing has historically been a field dominated by women, and its media portrayals have emphasized sexualized females subservient to male doctors and patients.99 The preceding examples illustrate much about the gendering of skiing and winter. Examples of female participation in the sport during the 1940s and 1950s emphasized beauty and consumer values over performance on the slopes. In addition, women were often pictured with handsome male instructors who exuded complete control of their own bodies, as well as that of the students. In the same way, the choice of Flagstaff’s Winter Carnival Queen prioritized physical appearance over athletic ability. Males who received medals, and thus the affections of the Queen, were those best able to exude athletic prowess and control on the slopes. The selection and role of the Winter Carnival Queen highlighted women’s roles as consumers, girlfriends, and sexual objects.100 The selection of the Winter Carnival Queen also reified the identity of Flagstaff in general and the business community in particular. Most queens were either juniors or 99

Photograph of Elizabeth Hoffman Carter and Friends, 1949. Photo in possession of Jack Beamer, Flagstaff; Carter’s skiing ability is mentioned in Coconino Sun, 11 March 1949. 100

A brief summary of the gendering of skiing is found in Coleman, Ski Style, 78, 47; Examples from the St. Paul Winter Festival of how winter was viewed as inherently masculine are found in Mergen, Snow in America, 92-93. 72

seniors in high school or from the local college. Newspaper descriptions generally placed them squarely in the Flagstaff community by describing their connections to the town, academic achievements and civic involvement. For example, the description of the 1949 winner, Elizabeth Hoffman, points out that she was both a graduate of Flagstaff High School and a sophomore at Arizona State College at Flagstaff where “she is majoring in commerce and minoring in Spanish and history, and active in ski activities.” The 1950 winner, high school senior Margaret Babbitt, was part of the most prominent business family in Flagstaff. Preferences for the choice of queen were further illustrated by the fact that she was chosen by “a secret committee of members of the Flagstaff Chamber of Commerce.” Though Hoffman and Babbitt were both described as “attractive,” and “accomplished skiers,” their carnival role went deeper. They enabled Flagstaff to put forth an identity for itself which consisted of values such as talent, friendliness, morality and academic achievement, while the physical beauty of the queen represented the attractiveness of the city of Flagstaff.101 Of these early winter carnivals, the 1950 and 1951 versions provide the best early evidence of image creation and seeds of larger aspirations for winter tourism. Among the events at the carnival were snow sculpture competitions, downhill and slalom races, and ski jumping. However, the unique event in these winter incarnations was the lasso slalom. It included two skiers, one a “steer,” and the other a “cowboy.” The steer was

101

Articles describing Hoffman and Babbitt are found in Daily Sun, 11 March 1949 and 10 February 1950; Community beauty queen and town identity are analyzed in Lavenda, “It’s not a Beauty Pageant,” 31-45, and Beverley Stoeltje, “The Snake Charmer Queen: Ritual, Competition and Signification in American Festival,” Beauty Queens on the Global Stage: Gender, Contests, and Power, ed. Colleen Cohen, Richard Wilk and Beverly Stoeltje (New York: Routledge: 1996), 13-27. 73

given a 50 foot head start while the cowboy attempted to lasso the steer as the two raced down the hill.102 The lasso slalom, an event which lasted until 1956, demonstrated much about myth creation and winter in Flagstaff. The event was meant to conjure up images of a cowboy rustling a steer to the ground, simultaneously evoking images of hard work and taming of the wilderness, both skills necessary for survival in the Old West of legend. Alpine skiing, on the other hand, requires physical exertion, but it is a leisure activity used as a diversion from work. Though ski areas may have promoted exhilarating outdoor experience, their environments are thoroughly controlled and commodified through mechanized ski lifts and ski runs cleared of dangerous obstacles. In addition, Flagstaff’s historic economy was never reliant on snow and had long since divorced itself from cattle ranching. The lumber industry was the traditional mainstay of the town’s economic growth, a presence which was generally absent from these early festivals. Though the events ranged from the competitive to the comic, they provide evidence of early post-war winter promotion in Flagstaff.103 Another image which frequently failed to represent Flagstaff accurately was that of winter wonderland. In 1951, the local Chamber of Commerce attempted to broadcast winter carnival and Flagstaff ski events far beyond the region, purchasing newspaper ads “Second SUN Races Saturday; Beginners Jump Built at Bowl,” Arizona Daily Sun, 19 January 1950, p. 1.; “Roping Event to Take Ski Carnival Spotlight,” Arizona Daily Sun, 6 February 1950, p. 1 102

Flagstaff’s historic economy is documented in Arthur R. Gomez, The Quest for the Golden Circle: The Four Corners and the Metropolitan West, 1945-1970, (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1994), 12-13, 42-45. Examples of winter image creation can be found in Rothman, Devil’s Bargains, 209-251 and Coleman, Ski Style, 126-127, 145-172. 103

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and radio spots in Western cities from Los Angeles to Denver, with heavy concentration in the Phoenix market.104 It failed to conjure a snowstorm to match its efforts. While the Chamber actively promoted the 1951 Winter Carnival, it was sending out letters to various ski clubs which had inquired about a ski vacation in Flagstaff. Letters dated in January and February of that year began with enthusiasm regarding the amenities of the town and the Snow Bowl, while apologizing for the fact that it was not in operation for lack of adequate snow. The themes of winter boosterism and inadequate snowfall would recur many times in the years to come.105 By the 1950s, Flagstaff’s winter identity was changing. The most prominent indicator of this was the dramatic increase of non-locals participating in its annual winter carnival and recreating at the Snow Bowl. Their presence increased the number of tourists staying at local hotels, eating at local restaurants, and shopping in retail establishments. The Flagstaff business community boosted this trend and sought to take advantage of it. Businesses which catered to tourists could remain open year round, and desert residents increasingly found the amenities they sought in Flagstaff. Though early winter carnivals were only a small part of this larger trend, they highlighted the fact that

104

List of Advertisement Spaces Purchased for 1951 Winter Carnival, 5 March 1951, in Flagstaff Chamber of Commerce Records (1871-1999), Cline Library, Northern Arizona University, Subgroup 1, Series 2, Box 3, Folder 10; Future citations will refer to this collection as FCC. 105

Irbymae Ford, Flagstaff to various ski clubs, 24 January and 12, 13, and 17 February, 1951 in FCC Collection, Subgroup 1, Series 2, Box 3, Folder 10; Coleman, Ski Style, 125. 75

Flagstaff’s identity was becoming as much about what tourists wanted to see as what locals experienced.106 Flagstaff’s promotion of winter recreation and demand for tourist dollars was most emphatically stated in its ‘bid’ for the 1960 Winter Olympics. In 1956, apparently spurred on by the lack of snow in that year’s Olympic city of Cortina, Italy, the hastily organized Flagstaff Olympic Committee, comprised of local business leaders and members of the city Chamber of Commerce, submitted a proposal to International Olympic Committee (IOC) Chairman Avery Brundage to host the 1960 Games. In its letter to the IOC, the Committee cited numerous transportation options, including highways, the Santa Fe Railroad, and “a municipal airport capable of accommodating the largest planes.” The bid boasted of Flagstaff’s proximity to the Grand Canyon, its Navajo and Hopi heritage, and 35 motels and “dozen or so” hotels. It touted the January 31, 1956, snow base of 42 inches at the Snow Bowl as sufficient, and “our usual January condition,” while claiming that the climate and sun “are such that no one suffers from cold.” To bolster the bid, U.S. Senator Barry Goldwater and Representative John J. Rhodes also sent letters to Brundage. Goldwater, in endorsing the proposal, indicated that the Snow Bowl “would offer many outstanding advantages for these events which,

106

List of Advertisement Spaces Purchased for 1951 Winter Carnival, 5 March, 1951, in FCC, Subgroup 1, Series 2, Box 3, Folder 10; The increased number of Phoenix residents coming to the winter carnival is cited in Coconino Sun, 21 March 1947; The idea that tourism serving the identity of visitors is expanded in Rothman, Devil’s Bargains, 10-28. 76

heretofore, they have not had.” Rhodes, in an attempt to elevate the importance of the ski area stated that “It has become one of the centers of winter sports in the West.”107 The proposal, though quickly rejected, reveals much about the ethos of winter recreation boosterism in Flagstaff. First, it shows just how unprepared the city was for an event such as the Olympics. Flagstaff had approximately 1,000 rooms available for guests in 1956, and its municipal airport was woefully inadequate. In addition, a 42 inch snow base, though adequate for skiing events, was certainly not ample. Furthermore, for the Flagstaff Olympic Committee to claim that this was typical of January snow totals ignored the reality that snowstorms in the area were so historically erratic as to render any attempts at prediction irrelevant.108 The membership of the Flagstaff Olympic Committee also sheds a great deal of light on the nature of local winter sports promotion. Each of the signatories of the bid was a well-recognized community and business leader as well as a town booster. One of them, John Babbitt, was heir to a ranching and retail empire in the community. Another, Platt Cline, was publisher and editor of the Arizona Daily Sun. Al Grasmoen was the Operator of the Snow Bowl, while Kenneth Keeney supervised the Coconino National Forest, a supporter of the Snow Bowl since its inception.109 In summary, each would

107

The 1960 Olympics Committee of the Flagstaff Chamber of Commerce, Flagstaff, to Avery Brundage, New York, 31 January 1956, Avery Brundage Collection, University Library, University of Illinois at Champagne-Urbana, Box 187; Letters from Goldwater and Rhodes, as well as the responses from Brundage are in the same box; Future references to this collection will be referred to as ABC. 108

Local Climatological Data: Annual Summary, 1996.

109

Flagstaff Olympics Committee to Avery Brundage, 31 January 1956, in ABC, Box 187; Arizona Republic, 2 February 1956. 77

have much to gain from the increased publicity and economic windfall of an international spectacle such as the Olympics. It is also important to recognize that the larger community was not represented in the proposal, calling into question whether the prodevelopment ethos of the Chamber and business community reflected the viewpoint of the majority of Flagstaff residents.110 The Brundage response to the bid also contains a well-placed, yet somewhat subtle message. In his rejection of the Flagstaff proposal, the IOC Chairman indicated that Cortina, the 1956 Olympics host, was “an established resort of many years’ standing,” and had “spent nearly eight million dollars in preparing for the Games.” Furthermore, Squaw Valley, which eventually hosted the 1960 Games, was required to have $5 million in the bank by April 3, 1956, in order to maintain its successful bid. Eventually, the California resort spent $13.5 million on the Olympics.111 As a town whose primary economic activity was timber extraction, and whose major claim to fame was its proximity to the Grand Canyon, Flagstaff clearly lacked winter sports clout. Though it could be legitimately said that Squaw Valley was a relative unknown, it boasted an annual snowfall of 450 inches, and the financial backing of the California legislature. State Senator Robert Prochnow of Flagstaff did make a similar request to the Arizona state legislature for money to obtain the Olympics, but it

Daily Sun, 28 January to 12 March 1956; Lavenda, “Festivals and the Creation of Public Culture,” 78-92. 110

111

Avery Brundage, (Chicago) to T.M. Knoles Jr., (Flagstaff), 21 February 1956, in ABC, Box 187; “The VIII Winter Olympic Games,”; available from http://www.squaw.com/winter/history_olympics.html; accessed 7 March 2006. 78

gained no traction. Lack of money and prestige combined with marginal snowfall doomed Flagstaff’s proposal from its inception.112 Since the Flagstaff bid was the brainchild of community business leaders and was quickly rejected, it is difficult to gauge community response. Articles in the Arizona Daily Sun and the Arizona Republic in late January and early February of 1956 summarize the proposal, but they do little more than quote the letter to Brundage. A scan of the Daily Sun between January 28 and March 12 yields not a single editorial published regarding the bid.113 It is possible that letters to the editor of the Daily Sun were submitted, but not printed. This becomes more intriguing when one considers that Platt Cline, member of the Flagstaff Olympic Committee, was also the paper’s editor and longtime booster of the Snow Bowl. One might also conjecture that locals did not take the proposal seriously enough to respond. Even Hal Jackson, Chamber Manager, had that in mind when, in a letter attempting to convince Arizona Senator Carl Hayden to support the bid, he began his second paragraph by exclaiming, “It is not a gag.”114 Regardless, an event the size of the Winter Olympics required broad community support, something the Flagstaff Olympic Committee had not yet sought in preparing its proposal.115

112

Gomez, The Quest for the Golden Circle, 65; Arizona Daily Sun, 27 February

1956, 1. “Olympics Group Invited to Hold 1960 Winter Games Here,” Daily Sun, 1 February, 1956, 1; “Group Urges Snow Bowl as Olympics Site,” Arizona Republic, 2 February 1956; Daily Sun, 28 February – 12 March 1956. 113

114

Hal Jackson, (Flagstaff), to Carl Hayden, (Washington, D.C.), 2 February, 1956 in Carl Hayden Collection, Arizona State Universities Archives and Special Collections, Arizona State Universities Libraries, Tempe, Arizona, Box 184, Folder 30. Support for this is provided in an analysis of Denver’s failed attempt to host the 1976 Winter Olympics in Whiteside, Colorado: A Sports History, 145-179. 115

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A number of long-time residents and skiers confirm this. Jim Babbitt and Richard Mangum, in their teens and twenties respectively in 1956, recall that there was an Olympics bid, but view it as a minor blip in Flagstaff’s history. Ann Leighton, a peer of Babbitt’s recalls the proposal, but indicates that few people paid much attention to it, and that those who did thought, “well, it’s so lame.” She further characterizes the bid as “a publicity stunt,” claiming that Snow Bowl operator Al Grasmoen “would not let that (the opportunity to publicize the Snow Bowl) pass by.” Her reasoning is that the Phoenix newspapers would pick up the story, leading to increased visitation at the ski area. Jimmy Nunn, the most avid skier of the group, though less willing to characterize the bid as ‘lame,’ points out that the Flagstaff Olympic Committee was naïve about what was involved in making a successful bid. As a former Winter Olympics volunteer he states that any successful bid had to be approved by the United States Olympic Committee before it could be submitted to the IOC.116 It was not until 1960 that mention of Flagstaff’s bid for the Olympics would appear again in the Daily Sun. In February, Olympic organizers in Squaw Valley were nervous due to rains which had washed away some of the snow at the California resort. In response, the Daily Sun’s Platt Cline published an editorial reminding readers of Flagstaff’s previous bid, stating, “Our Snow Bowl would have been the ideal place for this great meet.” Furthermore, it announced to any who would listen that lack of snow

Whiteside argues that, though Denver was able to secure the Olympic bid, it failed to retain it because the community was not actively in involved in the proposal and preparations. As a result, Denver voted not to host the Olympics in a referendum. 116

Richard Mangum, interview by author, 3 January 2007; Jim Babbitt, interview by author, 2 January 2007; Anne Leighton, interview by author, 8 January 2007; Jimmy Nunn, interview by author, 8 January 2007. 80

would never be a problem on the Peaks, exulting that the “Arizona Snow Bowl ALWAYS has snow in February, and warm rains this time of year in the high Peaks area are unheard of.” Apparently, the writer committed an error typical of booster mentality by conveniently forgetting that neither Flagstaff nor the Snow Bowl were free of the problems experienced that year at Squaw Valley. The climatological oversight would be magnified in years to come.117 Between 1957 and 1969, the Chamber of Commerce Winter Ski Carnival was largely replaced by a smaller festival primarily organized by the Arizona State College in Flagstaff. Though events at the Snow Bowl such as skiing and tobogganing races were featured, they played a less prominent role than in previous festivals. Priority went to oncampus events such as the election of the carnival queen, basketball games, dances and especially the annual snow sculpture contest. Another highlight was the illumination of flares on Mt. Agassiz by the hiking and ski clubs in the shape of an “A,” visible in town on the final evening of the carnival. The carnival emphasized community identity and university promotion while suffering from the same climate problems which had plagued some earlier carnivals.118 The most important festival event was the snow sculpture contest. More than any activity, it emphasized Flagstaff’s marginal winter climate. Though the 1961 carnival found the phrase “pray for snow,” repeated regularly in the days leading up to the 117

“Bring Olympics to Snow Bowl,” Daily Sun, 11 February 1960.

118

Examples of events can be found in The Lumberjack, 13 February 1958 and 7 February 1957; For climate problems, see for example The Lumberjack, 12 January 1961 and 1 March 1968; When referring generally to the carnival, the terms college and university are used interchangeably as Arizona State College became Northern Arizona University in 1966. 81

celebration, snow had to be hauled in from the Snow Bowl during that and most years. In February 1967 alone, 650 tons were needed for the approximately 20 sculptures created. Viewing and judging of the sculptures usually took place at 7 a.m. to take advantage of sub-freezing temperatures. A 1964 editorial in the school newspaper confirmed this when it lamented that most sculptures were no longer recognizable by noon on the day of the event due to balmy temperatures and sunny skies. Weather cancelled the March 1, 1968, contest when there was neither enough snow on campus nor on the Peaks to hold the contest. Cancellation of the event proves astonishing when one considers that, during the same winter 83 inches of snow had fell in December alone, a Flagstaff record. The university carnival demonstrates that the combined effect of erratic snowfall and sunny skies could easily doom snow-dependent endeavors.119 The winter carnival also presented an opportunity for the college to simultaneously promote a desirable image of itself while attracting new students. A glance at the snow sculpture contest and the selection of the snow queen demonstrates this. Snow sculpture entries were primarily from fraternities, sororities, campus clubs and representatives of a particular class, such as the freshmen. Snow queen nominees usually had the sponsorship of one of the Greek organizations, and had a laundry list of school activities to complement an attractive appearance. In addition, they had to maintain a minimum of a 3.0 grade point average and have the signatures of 50 students. Voting for the queen then took place in a student body election. Winners presided over events at the carnival and handed out awards to winners in ski contests and the snow

119

The Lumberjack, 2 February 1961, 31 January 1964, 8 February 1967, 1 March

1968. 82

sculpture competition. The sculpture contest was the most visible event during the carnival and the queen its most recognizable face. The carnival thus prioritized wellroundedness and social involvement over all other considerations. The brilliant, but onedimensional student, or the commuter with outside obligations might attend carnival events, but was generally not the representation put forth to the university and Flagstaff communities.120 Events of the winter carnival served a promotional purpose for the college and the larger Flagstaff community. Basketball games, ski events, and the snow sculpture contest brought in outside tourist dollars. More importantly for the university, the winter carnival was timed to coincide with senior day, when high school seniors from around the state visited the campus to help them determine whether they would attend the college. Between 1958 and 1969, between 300 and 900 seniors visited each year. They were treated to a free trip to the Snow Bowl, a dance, a basketball game (where the snow queen was usually crowned), and the building of the snow sculptures. Thus, the winter carnival enabled active members of the college student body to use the medium of winter to promote a version of the university which amplified its own identity while promoting the university to the Flagstaff community and potential new students.121

120

The Lumberjack 5 February 1959, 20 January 1964, 2 February 1966; the requirement of well-roundedness in the choice of community festival queens and their representations of the larger community are found in Lavenda, “It’s not a Beauty Pageant,” 33-35. 121

Examples of senior day are found in The Lumberjack, 9 February 1961 and 5 February 1964; An example of tourists coming to the carnival is found in The Lumberjack, 9 February 1966. 83

In 1970, the university participated as a junior partner with the Chamber of Commerce in promoting a greatly expanded winter carnival. Though the event still presented snow sculptures and university events, the primary focus became boosting winter business and enhancing the area’s image as a seasonal destination. Boosted by above average snowfalls the previous two winters, the winter carnival required that the trend continue to be successful. Prominent events during the first year included ski racing, sledding, snowmobiling, skijoring (pulling a skier behind a horse), and in-town sled dog racing. In fact, of the 39 events sponsored by the Chamber, 24 of them were dependent on sufficient snow.122 The ill-fated carnival also promoted a torchlight parade through town on skis. In other ski towns with colder temperatures, and much higher snow totals, this made climatological sense. Flagstaff was a different story. Holding this event in town would have required a heavy snowfall just prior to the activity, leaving the streets unplowed, and cold enough temperatures to make the snow stick. None of these were the norm, nor were they present in 1970. Another idea was to haul snow in from the mountains. The annual snow sculpture contest on the Northern Arizona University campus had a long tradition of doing just that. However, in 1970, most of the events requiring snow were cancelled due to lack of the white stuff. In fact, the Chamber of Commerce was forced to

122

Snowfalls the previous two seasons were 150 and 135 inches respectively, cited from Local Climatological Data: Annual Summary, 1996; Flagstaff Winter Carnival Schedule, February 1970, in FCC Collection, Series 2, Box 26. 84

send a number of embarrassing letters to event sponsors apologizing primarily for the weather, and returned their money.123 Unlike the 1970 Carnival, the 1972 version seems to have demonstrated an awareness of climatological realities, as only 9 of the 42 events planned that year were dependent on snow. Others included concerts, university basketball games, and of all things, swimming! Although the choice of events at the winter carnival had proved malleable, the snow emphasis had not changed. The Chamber hired Jennings & Thompson Advertising of Phoenix to promote the winter carnival to desert residents. In a rather pointed letter to Jack Redmond, Flagstaff Chamber of Commerce Manager, Dick Stuart of the ad agency stated, “It had better snow, because I promised my Phoenix news media contacts it would.” Stuart elaborated that these contacts included ten television, radio, and other news outlets all promoting the winter carnival.124 Advertisement of the carnival was also found in magazines such as Travel Trade. In a 1970 issue promoting Arizona, the magazine advertised the upcoming festival under the heading “The Great Flagstaff Snow Bash.” On the same page was juxtaposed another ad titled, “Indians of 14 Tribes,” which encouraged tourists to visit Native American groups near Flagstaff such as the Navajo, Hopi, and Apache, as well as Indian ruins at conveniently located monuments such as Walnut Canyon and Wupatki.125

123

Flagstaff Winter Carnival Schedule, February 1970; Jack Redmond, Flagstaff, to Sponsors of Winter Carnival, 16 February 1970, in FCC Collection, Series 2, Box 25. 124

Flagstaff Winter Carnival Schedule, February 1970; Dick Stuart, Phoenix, to Jack Redmond, Flagstaff, 28 January, 1972, in FCC Collection, Series 2, Box 25. “All Four Seasons at Once! Now in Amazing Arizona,” Travel Trade 1970/71 Sales Guide, 13 October 1970, in FCC Series 2, Box 3, Folder 10. 125

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These ads highlight ways in which modern tourism inserted hegemony over nature and culture through consumption. The Flagstaff visitor was encouraged to consume nature through the experience of skiing and snow-play at the winter carnival. At the same time, the tourist was informed that they could view the ‘timeless’ ceremonies of the Navajo and Hopi, and purchase ‘authentic goods’ such as baskets, pottery and Kachina dolls made by them. Through skiing, tourists validated themselves through a commodified world created to feel natural, and through interacting with the products of Native American culture, they felt a connection to what they perceived as authentic, but was more likely romanticized for tourist consumption.126 In reality, the experience was anything but authentic. Rather it is the essence of what Mary Louise Pratt calls ‘anti-conquest,’ or the ways in which the dominant group (in this case the tourist) naturalizes its hegemony. Through purchasing tickets to the events of winter carnival at the Snow Bowl and buying Indian goods, the relationship of the tourist to nature and culture was normalized, and the visitor validated. The reality, however, was that skiing on the Peaks was a commercial activity generally opposed by the same Indian groups tourists were encouraged to visit during the 1971 Winter Carnival. Furthermore, 1971 was an especially contested year in this regard, as Native Americans worked to halt commercial development on the San Francisco Peaks during the Hart Prairie controversy (see chapter 2). This winter carnival advertisement

“All Four Seasons at Once! Now in Amazing Arizona,” Travel Trade 1970/71 Sales Guide 13 October 1970, in FCC Series 2, Box 3, Folder 10; The culture of authenticity and tourism is addressed in Rothman, Devil’s Bargains, 10-28. 126

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highlights that the essence of tourism is to validate the expectations and experiences of the visitor through providing a perceived connection to the authentic.127 Winter carnival was also supposed to showcase the development of a ski area within the city limits. Buoyed by a snowfall of 135 inches during the winter of 19681969, the City of Flagstaff promoted its in-town ski area located on the north-facing slope of McMillan Mesa. According to city councilman Elmer Hubbard Jr., the ski area in 1970 would have a double-chair lift with a 600-person per hour capacity, and would eventually boast lights for night skiing. A 1971 promotional brochure produced by the Chamber of Commerce indicates that the ski area was in operation, but that the lack of snowfall had limited its operations. The brochure claimed that there were plans to “install artificial snow-making equipment to keep the complex open all winter.” Though skiing on the Mesa was offered on the schedule of events each year at the carnival, it was plagued in each one by a lack of snow. Though snow-making equipment may have changed these fortunes, it never operated on McMillan Mesa, and nothing more than a tow rope was ever installed. The ill-fated in-town ski area continued operating through the 1970s and lapsed into non-use by 1980. Later attempts to revive it have since failed (see chapter 2).128 The weather did not cooperate between 1970 and 1972, and the Flagstaff Winter Carnival was cancelled in 1973. Ironically, nature did produce heavy snows each year 127

Mary Louise Pratt, Imperial Eyes: Travel Writing and Transculturation, (New York: Routledge, 1992), 7. Cline, Mountain Town, 616; Arizona Republic, 24 September 1969; “The Arizona Snow Bowl Makes Flagstaff a Winter Sports Capital,” Profile of a Beautiful City: Flagstaff, Arizona (Encino, California: Windsor Publications, 1971), 12, in Carl Hayden Collection, Arizona State Universities Archives and Special Collections, Arizona State Universities Libraries, Tempe, Arizona, Box 184, Folder 30. 128

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but in late February and March, immediately after the conclusion of the festival. Though hindsight would have placed the carnival during this period, previous winter festivals had generally taken place in mid-February, and Flagstaff’s weather history demonstrates that adequate snow could never be assured. A further meteorological irony was produced in the fact that the 1972-1973 winter produced a record 210 inches of snowfall in Flagstaff, enough for even the most marginal of winter events. However, the failure of the early 1970s winter carnival reverberated through the next 15 years, as no major winter celebration was held during that period.129 Though the winter carnival did not produce the results desired by its marketers, the importance of winter recreation still increased during the 1970’s and 1980’s. Area phone books for the period 1970-1995 verify the trend. Prior to 1970, retail sales of ski equipment was listed under “Sporting Goods,” and in 1965 only two of those indicated that they carried skis. In 1970, the category, “Ski Equipment-Retail,” was included, and three retailers listed themselves as suppliers. By 1990, the number of ski shops was nine. Similar increases can be found in the number of places which rented ski equipment and in retail establishments selling snowmobiles. Though increases in population account for some of the growth, the supply of winter recreation-related products in Flagstaff outpaced residential growth.130

129

U.S. Department of Agriculture, Final Environmental Statement, Arizona Snow Bowl Ski Area Proposal (Albuquerque, New Mexico: U.S. Forest Service, 1978), 42. Johnson’s Phone Directory: Flagstaff, Williams and the Grand Canyon (Flagstaff: The Southwick Company, 1965); Mountain Bell Telephone Directory: Flagstaff and Vicinity (Flagstaff: Mountain States Telephone and Telegraph Company, 1970, 1975, 1980, 1985, 1990, and 1995);categories searched in each year include, “Ski 130

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In 1987, buoyed by a growing population and increased tourism, Flagstaff reincarnated the winter carnival of the early 1970s, calling it Winter Festival, or Winterfest. The event was sponsored by the Flagstaff Lodging Association, the Chamber of Commerce, the City of Flagstaff, Pepsi Bottling Company, the Daily Sun, and numerous local civic organizations. Its first four years demonstrated that much had been learned since its previous incarnations, while some aspects remained the same. Taking a climatological cue from past festivals, the majority of events were not reliant on snow, and most of those that required it were moved to higher elevations in the forests north of Flagstaff, or to the Snow Bowl where consistent snow was more likely. Gone were intown sleigh rides and skiing on McMillan Mesa. Replacing them were seminars offered by the forest service on winter survival, snowman building contests (with snow brought in from the mountains or from cleared parking lots), winter-themed banquets and dances and winterfaire, an indoor series of exhibits which included Native American crafts and a photography competition featuring photos of Flagstaff and its environs in winter. The events demonstrated further deseasonalization, as they encouraged participants to visualize winter in the Flagstaff outdoors from the comfort of climate-controlled buildings. Thus, the experience of winter did not require that the participant partake of its attendant weather. Organizers emphasized this in their marketing by pointing out that abundant snow during the festival only enhanced what was already an excellent event and

Equipment-Retail,” “Ski Equipment-Rental,” and “Snowmobiles-Retail,” and “Sporting Goods.” 89

that they could experience the festival completely from the indoor booths, exhibits and seminars.131 Though Winterfest depended less on snow than previous winter carnivals, the content and targeting of its marketing had changed little since the 1940s. Reliance on Phoenix residents continued and became more important, while snow played an important role in marketing. During 1988, the second year of the festival, $14,000 dollars were spent to advertise it to the Phoenix area in the hopes of bringing 4,000 desert dwellers to Flagstaff for the three day affair. Sponsors emphasized the low off-season rates available at local hotels, and that tourists would be able to experience sun and snow during the same trip. Furthermore, they tried to counter any driving fears by pointing out the excellence of road maintenance crews. Organizers admitted their worries by emphasizing that they desired snow leading up to the festival and during it, but not on the day it was scheduled to begin as it might prevent desert residents from driving north. Despite above average snowfalls in three of the festival’s first four years, sponsors displayed a degree of nervousness in each over how much of the white stuff would stick around for the festivities. Even so, Winterfest was well-attended during its first four years, and boosters claimed a windfall for local lodging establishments each year.132

131

Programs for the 1987, 1988 and 1990 Winter Festivals are found in Daily Sun, 4 February 1987, 10 February 1988, and 15 February 1990. Examples of promotion of Winterfest in Phoenix include “Team Opens Flagstaff’s Doors for Winter,” Daily Sun, 10 February 1988 and “An Invitation to our Valley Friends,” 15 February 1990; Promoters claimed that $500,000 was spent by tourists at Winterfest in 1988, “City’s Second Winter Festival Packs a Punch, Organizer Says,” 15 February 1988; Snow totals for the winter seasons of 1986-1990 in Flagstaff were, in inches, 122, 105, 78, and 113, found in U.S. Department of Commerce, Local Climatological Data, 1996. 132

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Not only had winter become important to Flagstaff’s economy, but to its identity as well. In 1993, Ski magazine rated the top 40 ski towns in the United States and Canada, and Flagstaff placed fourth, positioning it above such well-known entities as Vail, Aspen and Breckenridge. According to the magazine, Flagstaff received the rating for the somewhat undiscovered and excellent skiing at the Snow Bowl along with a variety of outdoor activities available in or near the city limits. The rating also factored in cost of living and education level of locals. Summarizing the article on the front page of the Daily Sun, the newspaper quoted several locals, including the mayor, to demonstrate the universally positive response to the rating. The article seemed to confirm the snowy attractiveness that Flagstaff boosters had been touting for over half a century.133 Regardless of the national publicity this article created, proximity mattered more than climate when it came to creating a winter image in Flagstaff. Despite inconsistent snowfall and a history of marketing the town beyond its climatological reach, desert residents still flocked to Flagstaff in the winter. Perhaps it has been the idea of the season rather than its reality which has attracted them. From the deserts of Phoenix and Tucson, Flagstaff is the only decent-sized town within a day’s drive which presents a reasonable chance of receiving snow. For most of the West, Flagstaff’s semi-arid climate does not provide a snowy destination. In contrast, for the sun-baked residents of Arizona’s deserts, it is a winter wonderland.134

133

“As Ski Town, we’re Cool,” Daily Sun, 8 December 1993.

134

Sheridan, Arizona: A History, 315-316. 91

Climate highlights the essential malleability of Flagstaff’s winter image. Early promoters of winter carnival emphasized skiing and snow-dependent events, and were burned by the failure of the weather to cooperate. Boosters soon recognized that, though snow was essential to attracting tourists, they could be lured through other means. As a result, they chose to emphasize the predominance of sunny days is Flagstaff, such that tourists could picture the combination of azure skies against a blanket of snow. If the snow did not cooperate, visitors could always shop for Native American curios, attend winter-themed indoor events during the annual winter festival, visit national monuments or drive to the Grand Canyon while still receiving first class treatment at local lodging and retail establishments with low rates. Furthermore, nature itself became malleable. Snow could be hauled in from higher elevations for festival events such as snow sculptures and snowman contests, and clever photography enabled tourists to view the San Francisco Peaks from an angle that could emphasize their symmetry and snowcovered beauty as a backdrop to their Flagstaff experience. This malleability has proved essential to Western tourist towns in the post-World War II era which cater to the needs of visitors over locals. The growing amenities-based industries in Flagstaff have had to be aware of the desires of visitors to lure them for winter visits, and offer them a winter experience that is both satisfying and provides affirmation. Though the city’s seasonal image is not completely sold out to tourists as it has become in places such as Aspen and Sun Valley, the focus on attracting visitors has transformed the city’s winter identity from a small town with a local ski area to a small city whose marginal snowfall is cleverly marketed and augmented by other amenities.

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CHAPTER 4 HAZARDOUS REFUSE: SNOW REMOVAL IN FLAGSTAFF, 1937-1975 When viewed on towering peaks, as a backdrop to local festivals, or as a resource for skiing and play, snow is generally defined as beautiful. However, when it clogs traffic arteries and slows the pace of commerce it is alternately perceived as a nuisance. Thus, while winter tourists and owners of restaurants and hotels have understood that increasing amounts of snow have the potential to create more business and recreation opportunities, if not removed from the roads and sidewalks, it has the opposite effect. Between the 1930s and 1990s, this tension between snow as resource for commerce and play and snow as refuse, has been magnified in Flagstaff. As the city has grown in population and winter tourism has solidified its hold on the local economy, snow within the city’s boundaries has increasingly been constructed as a hazard to health, transportation and commerce.135 Though fighting snow through removal and cultivating it through festivals and skiing seem contradictory, Flagstaff’s history demonstrates how these constructions of the season have operated together. Though much of the period 1937-1975 witnessed snowfall above 80 inches, Flagstaff’s historic average, winter festivals still suffered from inadequate snow for many events (see chapter 3). Some of this has resulted from the fact that average winter high temperatures in the city are 10 degrees above freezing. When combined with predominately sunny skies, this has caused snow to melt quickly, a phenomenon observed to a lesser extent at the Snow Bowl, situated at over 9,000 feet

135

Bernard Mergen, Snow in America. (Washington D.C.: Smithsonian Institute, 1997), 34-57. 93

elevation. Timing also plays a role. The snowiest month of the year in Flagstaff is March, the traditional herald of spring. Winter carnivals make little sense during a month when most people anticipate shedding winter layers, melting snow, and flowers. Despite this, the white stuff must still be removed from city streets. As greater pressure has been placed on the City of Flagstaff to remove snow, workers could not simply wait for the sun to melt it, or for spring weather to predominate. In a city which has increasingly valued the ability to go from place to place unhindered by weather, removal needed to be prompt.136 Technology has altered how Flagstaff has viewed snow. In the 1930s, residents did not expect that their roads would be immediately cleared after a large snowfall. However, beginning in the 1940s, the city purchased several pieces of more efficient removal equipment. This enabled streets to be cleared quickly and made it possible for removal to occur in neighborhoods which had not always been included in snow plow routes. Post-World War II weather science also played a role, allowing locals to more accurately predict incoming storms and plan accordingly.137 Although increased removal has led to clear roads, it has also reinforced the postwar movement toward deseasonalization. Though winter weather could not be altered, its effects could be controlled. Snow could be viewed in mountainous piles in empty lots 136

U.S. Department of Commerce, Local Climatological Data: Annual Summary with Comparative Data, Flagstaff, Arizona, 1949, 1970 and 1996; In order to understand snow removal in Flagstaff, research in this chapter focused on Daily Sun articles covering approximately 30 winter months in the city’s history between 1937 and 1990. Since these periods contained abnormally high snow totals, numerous photos and articles on the subject appeared, providing a snapshot of the city’s response to the white stuff. Blake McKelvey, Snow in the Cities: A History of America’s Urban Response, (University of Rochester Press, 1995), 110-129; James Thaxter Williams, The History of Weather, (Nova Science Publishers: Commack, New York, 1999), 99-112. 137

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throughout the city, but efficient snow removal and weather predictions allowed life to be lived with few seasonally-produced interruptions. In the process, local expectations and concerns changed. Prior to and immediately following World War II, concerns over snow centered on basic needs such as keeping fuel and emergency routes clear. Beginning in the 1950s, as snow removal improved and expanded, locals increasingly expected that their residential streets be cleared of snow, and that their ability to arrive quickly and safely to work and carry out daily routines be unhindered.138 Growing snow removal expectations highlighted the dichotomy between snow as refuse and snow as a source of beauty and play. The period from 1945 – 1975 demonstrated a steady increase in such thinking. Articles and photos in the Daily Sun regularly depicted snow-related auto accidents and made predictions of how adverse weather could affect driving conditions. On the other hand, these same hazardous snowstorms produced a flurry of articles and pictures showing the beauty of snow in nature or people playing in it. Furthermore, snowstorms enabled promotion of skiing at the Snow Bowl through reports of the ski area’s snow base and photos of skiers enjoying the fresh powder. The result was that Flagstaff locals increasingly constructed the same snow which fell in the city and the countryside in opposite lights.139 Increased snow removal has also brought on greater costs. In the thirty years following World War II, the cost of removal increased exponentially. In years with particularly heavy snowfall, city budgets exploded under the burden of clearing city streets. These were compounded by the cost of repairing streets which were damaged 138

McKelvey, Snow in the Cities, 129; The idea of deseasonalization is explained in Mergen, Snow in America, 59-62. 139

Mergen, Snow in America, xv-xvii. 95

when snow would melt, runoff, and soak into the pavement. The same period witnessed city ordinances which required residents to remove snow from sidewalks adjacent to their property within six hours of the conclusion of the storm or face fines and, in cases of neglect, liens on their mortgages. Business owners, especially those downtown, also faced sanctions for failing to clear public walkways in front of their stores. Thus, the post-war era in Flagstaff demonstrated a complete snow removal ethos within the city. Machinery removed snow from the streets, property owners removed it from public walkways, and the city passed laws intended to enforce both. As the city grew, these changes were magnified within a population which increasingly viewed snow as refuse.140 Snow removal operations during the 1930s demonstrate that Flagstaff residents did not yet have such an adversarial relationship with the white stuff on city streets. Between Christmas, 1936 and New Year’s Day, 1937, two feet of snow fell on the town of approximately 5,000 people. It continued through the middle of January, depositing another 43 inches. With the exception of the 1931-1932 winter, the snowfall during that three-week period was more than had descended in any winter season for the previous 14 years in Flagstaff. Compounding removal efforts was the fact that the average temperature during January 1937 was less than 12 degrees Fahrenheit. Little snow melted, and that which accumulated quickly turned to hard-pack snow and ice.141

140

Mergen, Snow in America, 59; examples of changes in laws affecting snow removal, and removal costs can be found in Arizona Daily Sun, 26 January 1960, and 26 December 1967. 141

U.S. Department of Commerce, Local Climatological Data: Annual Summary with Comparative Data, Flagstaff, Arizona, 1949. 96

The city’s lack of snow removal equipment demonstrates that it was not yet a high priority in 1937. Flagstaff had only one dedicated snow plow in 1937. Called the “Vplow,” it had a triangular-shaped metal plow mounted to a tractor or other heavy-duty vehicle. Snow was plowed to the side of the road and, in larger storms such as the one in 1937, shovelers were later employed to remove the snow into dump trucks where it could be hauled to empty lots. Since few residents drove in the winter, priority for removal went to keeping routes open which supplied oil for heating and cooking, and to enable people to get to the hospital in emergencies. Within a few days most of these roads were passable. However, complete snow removal within Flagstaff and the traffic arteries leading in and out of it required hiring crews from Coconino County and three additional weeks of labor.142 Despite these seeming inconveniences, little evidence of local unrest can be found. During January and the first half of February 1937 not a single line was printed in the Coconino Sun which questioned the integrity of the city’s snow removal operations. Some of this can be traced to transportation. In 1937 there were few places in town which required a car. Traveling outside of Flagstaff was not a large issue either. Phoenix, the nearest city larger than Flagstaff, and far from the metropolis it would later become, required four hours of driving. Larger cities, such as Los Angeles and Albuquerque could require multi-day trips. The same logic worked in reverse. Though Flagstaff had a small tourist trade in the summer, distance and lack of accommodations precluded visitors from traveling to the town in winter. In addition to travel, commerce

142

Coconino Sun, 1 January 1937, 5 February 1937; McKelvey, Snow in the Cities, 67-98. 97

was not a high priority. Many businesses closed for the winter, and those which remained open generally received their supplies via the Santa Fe Railroad which conducted its own snow removal, and generally kept its tracks clear.143 Between 1937 and 1948, when the next gigantic snowstorm hit Flagstaff, town growth and changes in thinking increasingly resulted in the construction of snow in the city as refuse. The most important Depression-era program which developed Flagstaff’s infrastructure was the CCC (Civilian Conservation Corps). The federally funded program built roads, trails, fences, and phone lines in Flagstaff and surrounding public lands during the 1930s and 1940s. PWA (Public Works Administration) funds were used to pave streets in town, as well as build Lake Mary Dam and an access road to it in 1940. Federal funds also enabled the building of a road to the Grand Canyon from Flagstaff in 1938 and the paving of 50 miles of Route 66 between Flagstaff and Williams in 1946. Such changes accentuated the need to keep roads open for tourists. Winter tourism received more attention during the period with the creation of the Arizona Snow Bowl in 1938 and annual Winter Carnivals beginning the following year (see Chapters 2 and 3). As tax revenues increased in the city between 1939 and 1946, it was able to build a larger airport and new schools. Further emphasis on the building of infrastructure came from the Navajo Ordnance Depot. Heavily used during World War II, it employed 2,000 permanent workers, along with as many as 8,000 temporary ones. Those who did not live in makeshift housing at the Depot required housing in Flagstaff, fueling a boom in construction, and the town became the hub for Depot workers seeking supplies and 143

Richard Mangum, interview by author, 3 January 2007; Martha Mulnix, interview by author, 3 January 2007; Coconino Sun, 1 January – 15 February 1939; Platt Cline, Mountain Town: Flagstaff’s First Century, (Flagstaff: Northland Publishing, 1994), 293-325. 98

entertainment. The growth of Flagstaff’s infrastructure during the period fueled a changing mentality which understood nature as something to be controlled and snow on city streets as an impediment to progress.144 By the end of World War II, newspaper articles and editorials reflected this change. Articles from the 1940s which described large snow storms invariably also reported on the condition of roads. They pointed out that Route 66, at that time the major thoroughfare through Flagstaff, was almost always open, despite weather conditions. Growing interest in clear roads was reflected in a 1945 Coconino Sun editorial. During a 22 inch snow storm, 100 cars were stranded in Northern Arizona and numerous accidents occurred as a result. The Sun’s scathing response chastised the city of Flagstaff for its apparently lax approach to tackling the storm. Newspaper editor Platt Cline complained that snow removal machinery was not in operation throughout the storm, and that removal crews and machinery should be operating at full capacity until roads were completely cleared. To punctuate his argument, Cline stated, “When snow falls in any quantity in Flagstaff it is an emergency and should be met as such.”145 Only nine months after Cline’s editorial, the city demonstrated its change in attitude by making the largest purchase of snow removal equipment in its history. Awash in tax revenues from the boom years of the war, the city purchased 3 new plows, a large tractor, a motor grader, a sno-go, and a roto-plow for sidewalks. Unlike v-plows, a motor grader could adjust the angle and tension of its plow while being driven, enabling the Cline, Mountain Town, 307-371; John S. Westerlund, Arizona’s War Town: Flagstaff, Navajo Ordnance Depot, and World War II, (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2003), 187-214. 144

145

Coconino Sun, 26 January 1945, 9 March 1945. 99

operator to clear roads down to bare pavement. The sno-go was a rotary powered loader which used a large auger to scoop up snow and deposit it in a dump truck which traveled alongside. The smaller roto-plow operated on the same principle as the sno-go, but its smaller size enabled pedestrian walkways to be cleared. Despite the fact that the city still had fewer than 10,000 residents in 1949, its ability to clear city streets had increased exponentially since the winter of 1936-37. According to Streets Superintendent Art Kennedy, the new equipment provided “all the snow removal equipment the city will need for years to come.” Kennedy may have spoken rashly.146 The big snow of January 1949 reminded Flagstaff locals that, despite the push for more effective removal, nature could still overwhelm technology. During that month 105 inches of snow fell, shattering a record which had stood since December 1915. On Flagstaff streets the windrows (piles of snow plowed to the middle of the street) were often so high that drivers headed in one direction could not see over the wall of snow to motorists heading the opposite direction. Art Kennedy, who had confidently predicted three years earlier that Flagstaff would not need any new equipment for years to come exclaimed, “We need big equipment to move a big snow fall. We don’t have it.” Once the exhausted sno-go was able to remove the windrows, the problem became where to put all of the extra snow, as empty city lots filled up. Long-time resident Richard Mangum joked that these piles were referred to by he and his friends as “matterhorns” due to their impressive size.147

146

Coconino Sun, 28 December 1945, 21 February 1947.

147

Local Climatological Data, Flagstaff, Arizona, 1949. Coconino Sun, 14 January 1949 and 21 January 1949; Jack Beamer, interview by author, 8 January 2007; Richard Mangum, interview by author, 3 January 2007. 100

The storm was costly for the city. Though it had more removal equipment and enlarged snow-fighting responsibilities, it had not budgeted for such a storm, allotting only $1,500 for the entire winter. During January alone the cost of plowing and removal amounted to $500 each day. As a result, the city used up the majority of the budget it typically used to repair roads that had been damaged during the previous winter. Such a large snowfall would seem to have benefited the Arizona Snow Bowl, but such was not the case. Opening the road to the ski area was the responsibility of the county, and since it gave higher priority to major transportation arteries, and mail and fuel routes, Snow Bowl Road was not plowed. Operator Al Grasmoen complained that he lost a potential windfall in the process.148 Articles in the Coconino Sun tempt the reader to view the storm as a disaster, but it is important to recognize that many residents did not view it as such. Martha Mulnix, newly married during the 1949 storm, points out that most residents were not concerned with large snowfall. Often they did not clear their driveways or walks, despite a city ordinance which stated that they should be free of snow within 6 hours of the end of a storm. Richard Mangum emphasized that many businesses in Flagstaff still shut down for the winter during the 1940s, so the fact that residents could not travel to retail outlets was of little concern except to obtain basic needs such as food and fuel for heating and cooking. Mangum exclaimed, “Business tapered off to such a point that it did not pay to have some stores open, and a lot of people would put their cars in a garage when winter

148

Coconino Sun, 21 January 1949, 11 February 1949 101

came, and you’d just leave it there until the spring.” In these respects, little had changed since the big snow of 1937.149 Large snowstorms such as the one in January 1949 provide a snapshot into the contrast between the vision of Flagstaff presented by city boosters and the reality generally experienced by residents during the immediate post-war period. By purchasing large amounts of new snow removal equipment, the city wished to present the image of a town that could function in any weather. The newspaper brought attention to this and used storms as an opportunity to point out that roads in and out of Flagstaff had been cleared of snow. In doing so, they generally mentioned the status of Snow Bowl Road, usually plowed to the base of the ski area and ready for desert dwellers making the trek to northern Arizona to ski. By the end of the 1940s, the City of Flagstaff, the Snow Bowl, the Coconino Sun, and businesses hoping to take advantage of the growing winter tourist trade had culturally constructed snow in town as refuse to be removed. For the majority of Flagstaff residents, these messages were irrelevant to their daily winter lives. Though skiing had gained in popularity and many residents had tried it, few had integrated the sport into their winter routine. Neither was complete snow removal crucial, as many residents did not have cars and, despite city growth, most locals still accomplished their daily routines through walking in winter. Streets, such as Leroux, remained more for sledding than driving during the season. And, though the number of tourists to Flagstaff

149

Mangum Interview; Martha Mulnix, interview by author, 3 January 2007; Jimmy Babbitt, interview by author, 3 January 2007; Malcolm Mackey, interview by author, 9 January 2007. 102

had increased during the post-war years, few locals’ routines brought them into regular contact with visitors.150 The period from 1951-1960 witnessed changes which influenced the majority of Flagstaff residents to view city snow in the same way as town boosters, as refuse requiring removal. The city’s population during the period increased from 9,000 to 23,000. Though some of this growth was in the town’s core, much of it moved to what was then known as East Flagstaff. This transition toward greater sprawl accentuated the need for motorized transportation in winter months, as residents, on average, lived further away from work and shopping. Thus, not only did the city plow approximately double the number of streets, but the increase in cars created more damage to roadways, requiring larger budget allocations for street repair and maintenance. Employment records bear this out. In 1952, Flagstaff’s snow removal crew consisted of 10 men and 10 pieces of equipment. By 1960, the crew had increased to 25, with 15 pieces of equipment. Furthermore, an increase in permanent residents, along with a growing number of winter tourists, encouraged businesses to remain open through the colder months.151 Keeping roads open and the hazards of winter driving were reflected in newspaper articles from the period. Reports of snowstorms generally included an account of the total amount of snow, an estimate of how much water this produced, and the accidents which had resulted. Articles typically concluded with a statement that all

150

Mulnix Interview; Mangum Interview; Babbitt Interview.

151

Cline, Mountain Town, 425-426; Coconino Sun, 21 February 1947, 12 January 1952, 20 January 1960; Figures for removal crews are estimates, since the city increasingly relied on temporary workers beginning in the 1950s. 103

highways leading in and out of Flagstaff were now passable, and that drivers should use caution, and chains when necessary. Even in cases where a highway had to be closed, the Daily Sun emphasized the temporary nature of the shutdown.152 Such articles served economic and civic purposes. For tourists and potential customers of Flagstaff retailers, these stories indicated that weather would not be a hindrance to business. Flagstaff historian Richard Mangum also emphasized that they reflect a city which wanted to demonstrate in the 1950s that it was a modern place. To say to outsiders that “we don’t shut down for the winter,” was a reflection of how Flagstaff had transformed itself from a small town where people put their cars up on blocks or in garages for the winter to one in which residents and visitors could enjoy all of the conveniences of modern life unhindered by the weather.153 Despite this emphasis on snow removal in the 1950s, Flagstaff remained behind other urban areas in its use of materials. Through the end of World War II, most cities in the nation used abrasives, such as sand, on roadways to aid in vehicle traction. Flagstaff used black cinders for the same purpose. Since they could be locally mined, cinders were both cheap and a benefit to Flagstaff’s economy. In addition, the city could employ its own street crews and machinery to occasionally extract the cinders. Furthermore, black cinders absorbed sun and had a mild effect in melting snow. However, by 1960, the majority of municipalities nationwide had moved away from abrasives and were instead

152

Though not all articles followed the format exactly, almost all of them described accidents and clear roads. For examples see Arizona Daily Sun, 20 January 1954, 19 January 1955, 9 February 1959. 153

Mangum Interview. 104

applying salt to their roadways. In addition to providing traction, salt’s chemical properties give it the ability to melt snow and ice far more effectively than any other product available in the 1950s. Though the efficiency of salt decreases below 20 degrees Fahrenheit, it provided a valuable tool for many U.S. cities.154 The City of Flagstaff resisted the use of salt. In the 1950s, it justified this on the basis that cinders were cheap, maintained some degree of effectiveness, and benefited the local economy. The city also reasoned that salt was corrosive and caused rust in automobiles, a trade-off other cities accepted. In the 1960s and 1970s, when salt and other chemical usage multiplied elsewhere, the Flagstaff city council resisted change based on research which implicated these products in the death of roadside trees, the potential contamination of water supplies, the death of wildlife due to animals being attracted to roadside salt and being hit by cars, and the death of fish due to salt seeping into riparian areas. According to former Flagstaff Streets Superintendent Bill Menard it also resisted because of tradition. Furthermore, the city, county and state tended to ignore the environmental hazards of cinders. Once crushed into dust by cars, cinders generally make the air dirty, and can be inhaled, contributing to the lung disease silicosis.155 Despite the city’s resistance to modern snow removal materials, it increased its legal ability to control the removal of snow from public walkways and gathering areas. In 1960, the Flagstaff city council passed a snow removal ordinance which reinforced

154

William B. Meyer, Americans and their Weather. (New York: Oxford University Press, 2000) 176-184; Kevin Mullaney, interview by author, 15 March 2007. 155

McKelvey, Snow in the Cities, 171-172; Bill Menard, interview by author, 30 January 2007; Mullaney Interview. 105

previous laws requiring residents to clear snow from “sidewalks within six hours after sunrise on the day following a storm,” and stiff penalties for refusal to comply. According to the ordinance, failure to cooperate resulted in a warning from the chief of police. After 6 days of non-compliance, the city would remove the snow and charge the resident the costs plus “a fine of not over $50, 30 days in the City lockup, or both.” Though potential jail-time was most likely an empty threat it was clear that, by 1960, the pre-war mentality which gave residents the option of removing snow had changed.156 The period between 1961-1975 was characterized by heavy snowfall. Of the 15 winters during the era, eleven were above the average of 80 inches. Despite this, winter carnivals struggled to have enough snow for many of their events, as the weather could not be counted on since the white stuff often fell too late or melted before snowdependent events could take place. However, the period witnessed several snow-related records. In December 1967, seven feet fell during a one-week period, prompting the closure of several highways, and shattering all previous records. Removing the snow produced a hefty price tag as well. The city estimated a cost of $82,000 to deal with the storm, obliterating previous records and prompting it to apply for additional money from the governor’s emergency relief fund. The winter of 1972-73 set an all-time season mark of 210 inches for snow in Flagstaff, burying the previous record of 167 inches set in the winter of 1948-49. Though not as dramatic as the 1967 storm, the continuous onslaught of snow during that season, along with temperatures which were well below average had

156

Daily Sun, 26 January 1960; Mulnix Interview. 106

residents groaning. This was especially true during March, the traditional herald of spring, when 77 inches of snow fell, a record for the month.157 Heavy snowfall highlighted removal efforts as well as underlined how Flagstaff residents approached white stuff on the roads. Concerns over removal shifted from fears that snow would prevented residents from obtaining basic supplies to complaints that inefficient removal impeded daily routines. No longer did the Daily Sun mention the need for fuel to heat homes in its articles on snowstorms. Well-plowed roads enabled residents who needed fuel deliveries to obtain this necessity. However, for most it was not a necessity. In 1951, El Paso Gas created a natural gas pipeline through Flagstaff and, by the mid-1960s, most homes in town had gas hookups. Reports on dangers related to snowstorms shifted to automobile accidents, reflecting an increase in winter driving and accelerated speeds.158 The technological changes which most affected the relationship between Flagstaff residents and snowstorms between 1961 and 1975 were advances in meteorology. Prior to 1960, weather scientists understood many of the dynamics which influenced weather, including cold and warm air fronts and the importance of the jet stream. Beginning in 1952, they were able to use numerical models to predict storm development. However, it was not until the advent of computers, sophisticated radar, and satellites in the 1960s that weather forecasting could be done with precision. These advancements enabled 157

U.S. Department of Commerce, Local Climatological Data: Annual Summary with Comparative Data, Flagstaff, Arizona, 1949, 1970, and 1996; Daily Sun, 26 December 1967. 158

Meyer, Americans and their Weather, 176-184; Arthur R. Gomez, The Quest for the Golden Circle: The Four Corners and the Metropolitan West, 1945-1970, (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1994), 41. 107

measurements to be taken from a multitude of locales within the atmosphere, compiled, and then analyzed using increasingly sophisticated computer technology.159 These forecasting advances were soon reflected in the Daily Sun. In the period 1961-1975 Flagstaff Weather Station Chief Meteorologist Paul Sorenson was consulted regularly to report on winter weather. Predictions quickly became front-page news. Sorenson was consulted to determine when a storm would hit, the snow elevation level, how much snow a storm would deposit, the potential water content of the storm, temperature fluctuations before, during and after the snow, and even to make predictions about driving conditions. In the process, Flagstaff residents received an education in meteorology, since the Sun often included several paragraphs in which Sorenson described the movement of weather fronts. For example, in a front page article in 1962, after Sorenson predicted a 6-10 inch snowfall, he described the weather causing it. “We’re now getting convergence winds from off the Gulf of Mexico and lower California, and these winds are of course transporting a lot of moisture into the higher levels up here.” Sorenson enlightened the reading audience on how weather in other areas of the country impacted Flagstaff. In a 1962 article, he described the potential impact of several storms developing in the Pacific Northwest. The following day, Sorenson was featured on the front page again. In an article consisting entirely of quotes and paraphrases from the meteorologist, Sorenson described why recent temperatures had dropped below zero, and the potential weather phenomena that would enable the

159

Williams, The History of Weather, 99-112. 108

atmosphere to warm up again. As a result of this growth in the reporting of winter storms, Flagstaff residents became increasingly fixated on winter weather.160 Such weather predictions not only increased weather awareness of Flagstaff residents, but provided advanced warning for snow removal crews. Storms could be anticipated with greater precision, allowing cinder crews to prepare in advance to lay down traction as soon as the storm hit. Residents also knew when to travel to avoid being caught in unsavory weather. As locals spent more time shielded from winter weather, being caught outdoors in a snowstorm was increasingly defined in adverse terms. Referring to this phenomenon of meteorology-induced concern over winter weather, long-time resident Brian Beamer exclaimed that “It didn’t used to get near as cold until they invented the wind chill factor.” Sorenson’s predictions affected extra-local media as well. In the late 1960s and early 1970s, Phoenix media increasingly used Sorenson’s predictions to report on potential snow storms in the Flagstaff area, including the impact such storms might have on Phoenicians who might wish to come to Flagstaff to play in the snow or ski at the Arizona Snow Bowl. Business owner and long-time Flagstaff resident Jim Babbitt pointed out jokingly that Phoenix news stations would appear at his storefront early on the morning of a predicted storm looking for sound-bytes usable for their broadcasts.161

160

Daily Sun, 23 January 1962, 11 February 1965, 12 February 1965; The frequency of Sorenson’s predictions were found by examining the Daily Sun during the following periods of heavy snow: February 1962, March 1964, April 1965, December – February 1967, March 1970, January – March 1973, and January 1974. 161

Brian Beamer, interview by author, 8 January 2007; Babbitt Interview. 109

Advances in meteorology were not effective in helping Flagstaff residents plan around snowstorms in the winter of 1972-1973. Following three seasons of low snow totals, a record 210 inches fell between October 1972 and April 1973, resulting in disgruntled locals. Though snow fell consistently through the winter, the heaviest month was March. Traditionally the herald of spring, it is also the snowiest month in Flagstaff, a fact which provided little consolation for residents. Some residents complained that inefficient snow removal had made their roads impassable, as city crews were unable to keep residential areas clear. Others directed their anger directly at nature. One resident opined, “I hate this snow with a passion. It’s a four-letter world, that’s what I think.” Clearly, the word ‘snow’ was only one of the four-letter words she had in mind. Still others lamented potential financial losses, claiming that too much of the white stuff was costly to business. The city predicted that road repair due to snow would easily top $500,000. Even meteorologist Paul Sorenson got into to act, submitting a poem titled, “YOU CAN HAVE IT (snow), I DON’T WANT IT.” By the mid-1970s, snow in Flagstaff had solidified its place as refuse.162 Previous patterns continued between 1975 and 1990, a period which also witnessed above average snowfall. As the city’s population increased (almost 50,000 in 1990), a greater number of roads needed to be plowed, and the city made a large investment in new removal machinery in the early 1980s. It was also during the same period that the Snow Bowl expanded its facilities (see chapter 2). The combination of increased capacity for removal and greater emphasis on snow at the ski area exacerbated the dualistic thinking which viewed snow as play in the mountains and refuse in the city.

162

Daily Sun, 10, 14, 23, 27 March 1973. 110

The Daily Sun continued its participation in the dichotomy, publishing articles and pictures contrasting the beauty of snow in nature with the hazards of snow in the city, especially through automobile accidents. The few editorials on snow removal during the period illustrated a trend toward blaming city crews for failing to keep roads clear, thus impeding daily routines.163 Between 1937 and 1975, Flagstaff dramatically re-defined how it viewed snow in the city. Prior to World War II, little emphasis was placed on rapid snow removal. Residents and businesses alike generally accepted that large snowstorms had the potential to alter residents’ lives. Until 1950, the Coconino Sun, the Snow Bowl, and various civic boosters had come to view snow as refuse on city streets. It was an impediment to business, tourism, and the city image if not removed. During the 1950s, the majority of city residents adopted this view as the city more than doubled its population, businesses increasingly opened during the winter, cars became more necessary in the city’s growing sprawl, and Flagstaff expanded its removal operations. By 1975, the transformation to a deseasonalized landscape was complete. Meteorological advances and modern conveniences helped residents to avoid winter weather, while increasing assumptions that snow would be removed. Thus, winter in Flagstaff has become an element of nature bent to serve human constructions of how and where the season should occur.

163

Cline, Mountain Town, 531; U.S. Department of Agriculture, Forest Service, Southwestern Region, Final Environmental Statement: Arizona Snow Bowl Ski Area Proposal (Albuquerque: U.S. Forest Service, 1979), 9-13; Mullaney Interview; Examples of snow as hazardous can be found in Daily Sun, 7 January 1982, 2 February 1988; Complaints of poor removal are especially prominent during a storm in November 1985 and can be found in Daily Sun, 12, 13, 14, 21, 25, 29 November 1985. 111

CONCLUSION

Issues relating to skiing, snow-play, winter identity, and snow removal have been drawn into sharper focus in Flagstaff since the 1990s. The impact of winter on the dayto-day lives of residents in town has been increasingly marginalized, while greater emphasis has been given to snow on the city’s surrounding mountains. As Flagstaff, along with much of the West, has suffered from the effects of drought and global warming, the Arizona Snow Bowl proposed to manufacture snow. At the same time, the City of Flagstaff has approved a pilot program which uses chemical deicers to remove snow from its streets. These attempts to place more snow on the Peaks and less of it in the city provide further evidence of Flagstaff’s deseasonalized landscape. In an attempt to increase its economic viability in 2001, the Arizona Snow Bowl began to negotiate with the City of Flagstaff to obtain the rights to use reclaimed wastewater to make snow at the ski area. The following year the city agreed to sell 1.5 million gallons of wastewater per day to the Snow Bowl during winter months. In the same year, the Snow Bowl filed a proposal with the Forest Service to construct a snowmaking system which would use reclaimed wastewater to make snow on 205 acres of its permit area, in addition to other upgrades which would include a tubing facility, additional ski runs and lifts, and a ski lodge with increased capacity. The Coconino National Forest then released a Draft Environmental Impact Statement (DEIS) which received an astounding 10,000 public comments. The controversial proposal was approved by the Forest Service in its entirety in 2005. Native American and environmental groups then sued in Federal court, claiming that the Forest Service ruling 112

would desecrate sacred land and that the reclaimed wastewater was unsafe for human consumption.164 Global warming and drought highlight Snow Bowl’s proposal to make artificial snow. Of the sixteen winters from 1979-1995, the ski area was able to open before the Christmas season in all but one year due to adequate snow fall which typically began in late November. During that period, it remained open for an average of 114 days. In the twelve winters between 1995 and 2007, the Snow Bowl has only opened before January 1 during five seasons and has remained open for an average of 71 days. Though an extended drought certainly accounts for much of this, global warming plays a role. Global scientists have estimated that average temperatures during the 20th century have risen one degrees Fahrenheit, and climate statistics demonstrate that the 1990s was the hottest decade in the last millennium. Further predictions are that average temperatures will rise almost four degrees by 2050, and that snowy environs may experience the most dramatic effects of human-induced climate change.165 Without snowmaking, this could spell doom for the Snow Bowl whose historic winter high temperature at the base of the ski area has averaged 39-degrees Fahrenheit. Global warming will certainly increase this figure. Situated in a semi-arid region, averaging far less snowfall than the majority of Western ski areas, and possessing a partially South-facing aspect, the Snow Bowl’s viability has been questioned even prior

164

“SNOWBOWL: CULTURE CLASH,” Arizona Daily Sun, 14 November

2006. “ARIZONA SNOWBOWL: Seasonal Data: 1979-2006,” copy in possession of author obtained from Snow Bowl Files, Arizona Snow Bowl, Flagstaff; Michelle Nijhuis, “Save our Snow,” High Country News, 38, no. 4, 2006; Richard Mangum, interview by author, 3 January 2007; 165

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to the most recent drought. Even with snowmaking, some such as Flagstaff historian Richard Mangum, have questioned whether such potentially warm daytime temperatures would render the snowmaking economically viable given future climate forecasts.166 The economics of artificial snow has proved to be widely contested terrain. In an e-mail to ski area friends and season pass holders on December 7, 2006, Snow Bowl Manager, J.R. Murray, claimed that, with snowmaking, Snow Bowl would have opened the following day. He further posited that failure to open by Christmas would make the season a loss financially. Elsewhere, he predicted that, if snowmaking was not allowed, the Snow Bowl would close within 5-10 years. Skiers and Flagstaff boosters further claim that the Snow Bowl is a significant contributor to Flagstaff’s economy, bringing in tourists, filling hotels and restaurants, and enhancing retail sales. Long-time skier and Flagstaff gas-station operator, Jack Beamer, stated, “I think it’s absolutely necessary (the survival of the Snow Bowl) for the economy, and bringing in a big influx of money into the city.” Such assertions have been widely accepted since the origins of the Snow Bowl in 1938.167 A study conducted by the City of Flagstaff has provided contradictory evidence. The city compared snowfall between November and March between 1995-2004 with tax receipts from the city’s retail sectors and businesses normally associated with tourism such as hotels and restaurants. It concluded that, during months of heavy snowfall, when “ARIZONA SNOWBOWL: Seasonal Data: 1979-2006,”; Nijhuis, “Save our Snow,”; Richard Mangum, interview by author, 3 January 2007; 166

J.R. Murray (Flagstaff) to Arizona Snow Bowl e-mailing list, “SNOWBOWL TO OPEN DEC. 8 (if we had snowmaking),” 7 January 2006, copy in possession of author and obtained from Mark Smith, Snow Bowl Director of Marketing; “The Snow Bowl Effect,” Documentary by Klee Benally. (Flagstaff: Indigenous Action Media, 2005); Jack Beamer, interview by author, 8 January 2007. 167

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the Snow Bowl would presumably be receiving the most business, sales in tourist-related businesses in Flagstaff increased slightly. However, retail sales decreased at a greater pace. During low-snow months, tourist-related business decreased minimally, while retail increased at a proportionately higher rate. The study concluded that the Snow Bowl is not a major contributor to the Flagstaff economy and that its success may in fact produce a negative correlation.168 Roxanne George, former lobbyist with the Sierra Club, posits an even more adverse effect on the local economy if the Snow Bowl proceeds with snowmaking using reclaimed wastewater. She pointed out that many Native Americans, especially from the Navajo and Hopi tribes, visit Flagstaff regularly to purchase goods. Since they are among the thirteen tribes which oppose snowmaking, many of them may choose to boycott Flagstaff retailers, an idea proposed at an anti-snowmaking rally in 2005. In addition, George further emphasized that failure to accommodate the religious beliefs of the tribes on the Peaks could lead to a decrease in tourists who visit Flagstaff to purchase Native American goods and visit Indian ruins and other historical sites. George stated that Native American culture “defines Flagstaff more than a ski resort.” She concluded by pointing out that through snowmaking with reclaimed wastewater, “We are risking a relationship with a huge constituency.”169 Snowmaking using reclaimed wastewater has resulted in environmental contestations as well. Supporters of the proposal, including skiers, much of the Flagstaff business community, and the majority of the city council, cite the use of “A+” reclaimed “Sales and Snowfall, 1995-2004,” copy in possession of author and obtained from Steve Shafer, City of Flagstaff Administrator. 168

169

Roxanne George, interview by author, 22 January 2003. 115

wastewater which, defined by the Environmental Protection Agency, is clean enough to drink, making it an excellent use of reclaimed water. Opponents, including environmentalists and tribal authorities, point out that even the purest wastewater may contain pharmaceuticals such as estrogen which have been shown to interfere with naturally occurring endocrine function. That the wastewater does contain estrogen is supported by studies which have observed the “feminization” of fish in riparian areas where wastewater has run-off. Opponents also emphasize that water used for snowmaking would otherwise be used to recharge the local aquifer, instead of running off or sublimating. They claim that this is irresponsible for a semi-arid place such as Flagstaff which is suffering through a drought. A caveat is provided by Snow Bowl owner, Eric Borowsky, who claimed that an unfavorable decision from Federal courts would lead him to pursue using water for snowmaking from his private wells, which draw directly from aquifers used by the City of Flagstaff.170 Initially, it seemed that Borowsky’s claim would not be tested. In January, 2006, U.S. District Judge Paul Rosenblatt upheld the decision of the Forest Service to allow snowmaking at the Snow Bowl, along with the other proposed improvements. In his decision, he emphasized that reclaimed wastewater was safe and that religious and spiritual beliefs should not disrupt the mixed use of public land, as long as “reasonable accommodation” to religious beliefs and practices can be accommodated. He ruled that skiing was included in the definition of “mixed use” and that the beliefs of Native American groups can be accommodated. Challenging his opinion, environmentalists and Native Americans successfully appealed the decision. The 9th Circuit Court, in

170

“The Snow Bowl Effect.”; George Interview. 116

overturning Rosenblatt’s ruling, cited the Religious Freedom Restoration Act of 1993 which required government agencies to “use the ‘least restrictive’ means of interfering with any religious practice.” Writing for the Court, Justice William Fletcher also contradicted claims that the failure to integrate snowmaking into Snow Bowl’s operations would cause the ski area to go out of business. However, even if it did fold, Fletcher added that the marginality of the Snow Bowl was not a secret to Borowsky, who bought it in 1992. As of April 2007, Borowsky was still contemplating either an appeal of the decision to the Supreme Court, or the drilling of wells to use potable water for snowmaking.171 While attempts to manufacture snow on the San Francisco Peaks have stalled, a proposal to artificially remove snow was passed by the Flagstaff City Council in February 2007. According to the approved pilot project, the city would use a combination of sodium chloride, magnesium, and potassium to de-ice 13% of the city’s roads beginning in November 2007. The areas targeted by the pilot program would include major transportation arteries, school bus routes, hills, and streets which have been chronic ice problems. Prior to 2007, the Flagstaff city council had consistently resisted attempts to switch from cinders to de-icers due to tradition, economic gains reaped by locally mined cinders, and the potential environmental hazards of salt-based de-icers. However, recent increases in accidents, improvements in de-icers, and the potential to realize fewer accidents have precipitated the change.172

171

Daily Sun, 14 November 2006, 13 March 2007.

172

“Flag Ready to Try Chemical De-icers,” Daily Sun, 28 February 2007. 117

Conflicts over the use of de-icers have centered on safety. Flagstaff Streets Superintendent Kevin Mullaney supports their use by citing a 39% reduction in accidents on state highways surrounding Flagstaff, where the Arizona Department of Transportation (ADOT) has used them since 1992. Al White, the lone City Council member who voted against their use disagrees. He argues that public safety cannot be achieved through chemicals, but rather through slower speeds, and that deicers provide a false sense of driving security, allowing residents to believe that they can safely drive faster in winter conditions. He further worries that the move is an indicator that society is too worried about getting to work and school on-time no matter what the weather conditions are. He proposes that locals accept and even embrace the potential of winter weather to alter daily life and the built environment.173 Though the dust from cinders can be harmful to the lungs after being crushed by cars, far more numerous environmental consequences have resulted from the use of chemical de-icers. The salt ions contained in sodium chloride are corrosive and contribute to rusting automobiles. However, this has been mitigated through adding chemical rust retardants to the mixture and as a result of automobile manufacturers using more plastic in car construction. De-icing mixtures are also hazardous to roadside plants since both sodium and chloride are absorbed into plant tissue and interfere with its ability to absorb moisture from the soil, often resulting in death. Concern has also been expressed over their effects on surface and groundwater, as neither sodium nor chloride ions easily absorb into the soil, and are thus likely to run-off into rivers, streams and

173

Kevin Mullaney, interview by author, 15 March 2007; Al White, interview by author, 27 March 2007; Daily Sun, 28 February 2007. 118

lakes. This run-off has been implicated in the death of riparian vegetation, fish-kill, and an increase in the growth of algae in streams and lakes. In addition, de-icing solutions have increased the road-kill of animals, since their compounds have drawn animals to roadsides, where some have been hit by cars.174 The cultural constructions of snow in the natural environment as beautiful and as motivation for play, contrasted with snow in the built environment of the city as refuse and hazard are not benign. They contribute to a dichotomy which promotes the glorification and preservation of the natural world outside the city, while normalizing the conquest and alteration of nature in it. The same snow which falls on the San Francisco Peaks also falls on Flagstaff, yet the former provides tourist dollars, recreation, and physical beauty while the latter is constructed as something which hinders visitors, makes transportation to recreation sites such as the Snow Bowl more difficult, and is perceived as dirty since it has been touched by the human-built environment. Such constructions of winter privilege landscapes people play in, and in the process help society to justify the alteration of the urban environment. If people see snow as something that is a part of nature, and that nature only exists outside of the city, then it becomes too easy to forget that the existence of the built environment relies on the exploitation of natural resources. A sustainable future requires reconciliation between the nature that exists outside of the city and the natural world inside of it. This is not to say that snow removal and efficient “Flagstaff District Winter Maintenance Program: Winter Season, 2006/2007,” copy of presentation in possession of author and obtained from Kevin Mullaney, Flagstaff Streets Supertintendent; Frank M. D’itri, Chemical Deicers and the Environment, (Chelsea, Michigan: Lewis Publishers, 1992), iii-vii; McKelvey, Snow in the Cities, 170-175; Much has been written on the varied environmental consequences of different deicers. Though this is outside the scope of this study, D’itri’s book, listed above, provides a comprehensive study of the effect of deicers on the environment. 174

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transportation have no role in Flagstaff, or that being awestruck by the beauty of the snow-covered mountains is disingenuous. However, the contrasting visions of snow in nature and the city must be reconciled by learning to value that part of nature which has the potential to disrupt our urban lives.175 Another aspect of nature that Flagstaff must reconcile with is climate. As past winter carnivals and Snow Bowl history have demonstrated, snow in Flagstaff’s semiarid climate cannot be relied upon. Though prolific in some seasons, in others it seems to be non-existent. Scheduled winter festival events such as dog sledding, in-town skiing, and even snow sculptures have often been canceled, or required that vast amounts of the white stuff be brought in from the mountains. Recent attempts to make artificial snow simply normalize such ignorance of climatological realities. The drought which Flagstaff has endured since the mid-1990s, along with the realities of global warming, have placed the marginality of winter in stark relief. However, rather than becoming a springboard for further attempts to conquer nature, recent realities should offer opportunities to foster a winter identity which embraces and promotes the limitations of climate for residents and tourists alike. Unlike resource extraction, the deseasonalized landscapes promoted by ski areas, snow removal, and winter festivals have been clever at masking their impacts. From the 1940s-1960s, Flagstaff’s largest economic product was timber. For the casual observer, little effort was required to see the results. In addition to providing employment, cutting William Cronon, “The Trouble with Wilderness; or Getting Back to the Wrong Nature,” Uncommon Ground: Rethinking the Human Place in Nature, ed. William Cronon (New York: W.W. Norton and Company, 1996), 69-90; Though Cronon’s argument is more narrowly applied to the dualism between ‘wilderness,’ and the city, it is equally relevant to that between nature and the city; Bernard Mergen, Snow in America, (Washington D.C.: Smithsonian Institute, 1997), xv-xvii, 54-56. 175

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trees denuded the physical landscape, processing mills contributed to air pollution, and the housing boom of the period utilized these forest products. The impacts of winter tourism have been more elusive. For example, skiers do not generally think of their activity as akin to clear-cutting a forest. Yet, this is exactly what ski runs are. Cleverly disguised as a recreational activity and encouraging participants to experience nature through skiing, even small areas such as the Snow Bowl extract from nature. Other impacts result as well. Though the Snow Bowl has never attracted large numbers of visitors from outside Arizona (despite the claims of its early boosters), the majority still visit by car from the desert metropolises of Phoenix and Tucson. In addition to more skiers, increased revenue for the Snow Bowl, and potential customers for certain Flagstaff businesses, each car represents additional pollution, road impacts, and land cleared for larger parking lots. In a postmodern society, where natural resource extraction occupies a marginal place in Flagstaff’s economy, recreational skiing plays a significant role. However, its recreational and economic benefits must be reconciled with its extractive nature.176 The impacts of winter tourism within Flagstaff city limits are of a different nature than skiing, but they are nonetheless extractive. The increasing need to clear streets of snow was promoted by the same boosters who sought to bolster winter tourism. When the Chamber of Commerce, the Daily Sun, and hotel and restaurant owners were advertising the Snow Bowl and winter festivals, they were also emphasizing that there was plenty of snow on the ground, and that streets of Flagstaff remained clear. The same Hal Rothman, Devil’s Bargains: Tourism in the Twentieth Century American West, (Lawrence: University of Kansas Press, 1998), 10-28; Annie Gilbert Coleman, Ski Style: Sport and Culture in the Rockies, (Lawrence: University of Kansas Press, 2004), 157-170. 176

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clear streets which enabled residents to arrive at work quickly also encouraged tourists to attend winter-themed events, eat at local restaurants, and stay in Flagstaff accommodations. Thus, the mentality of residents which has increasingly viewed snow on the streets as refuse and an impediment to commerce has developed partially as a byproduct of winter tourism and city boosters. Winter visitors have also extracted a toll on the livability of Flagstaff. Jobs in hotels, restaurants, and lift lines have always been low-paying ones, and rarely have they been accompanied by benefits such as medical insurance and vacation time. Thus, as Flagstaff has shifted its economy to tourist-related service industries, a larger proportion of jobs have provided a marginal living. Furthermore, since the 1990s, Flagstaff has endured a real estate boom, partially fueled by tourists from metropolitan areas who have visited Flagstaff in the winter and have the money to purchase homes far out of reach of the workers who have served them on their vacations to the city. As a result, locals have increasingly struggled to find affordable housing, or have moved further away from their jobs, resulting in greater sprawl, increased reliance on the automobile, and an expanding socioeconomic gulf between the city’s financially secure boosters and those who work in tourist-related industries boosters helped to create.177 Flagstaff’s winter transformation between the 1930s and 1990s parallels that of much of the West. Numerous towns in the region have transformed themselves from a reliance on extractive economies to ones based on tourism. Some, such as Aspen, Vail, and Sun Valley have relied almost entirely on winter skiers. Though Flagstaff boosters Rothman, Devil’s Bargains, 202-286; Though summer tourism brings in larger numbers of visitors, Flagstaff has still been viewed as a ‘cool’ place to be in the winter. One example of this is “As Ski Town, we’re Cool,” Daily Sun, 8 December 1993. 177

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maintained delusions of such resort grandeur in the 1940s and 1950s, its development fits the pattern of other western communities such as Bend, Oregon, and Red Lodge, Montana. Both once relied on either timber or mining, and have become dependent on an amenities-based winter economy which includes skiing, winter festivals, beautiful views, and promotion of Native American history and crafts. They require that roads be clear of snow, views of snowy mountains be breathtaking, and amenities for visitors be plentiful. In the process of constructing such deseasonalized landscapes, these communities have reflected many other areas in the West where the amenities-based economy has not kept pace with housing, compromising the livability of locals. None of these changes occurred instantaneously. Natural amenities combined with increases in auto travel after World War II, the growth of the skiing industry, snow removal, local boosterism, and the move away from resource extraction combined to alter the winter economies and seasonal mentalities of locals in Bend, Red Lodge, and Flagstaff, as well as many other small to mid-sized communities throughout the West.178 In the process of constructing winter in Flagstaff to benefit growth and tourism while divorcing it from its climatological realities, winter has become deseasonalized. Snow play opportunities, both on city streets and in open space throughout the city have diminished, replaced by the automobile and the removal of snow play areas to controlled sites outside of the city. The oxymoronic message embedded in the change is that spontaneous play in winter must be controlled in selected locales. The mentality is enhanced through snow removal, which prioritizes speedy transportation over the ability Hugh Roe Davidson, “Bent to Nature: Bend, Oregon as a Case Study in Twentieth-Century Property Development” (Ph.D. diss., University of Oregon, 2005); Bonnie Christensen, Red Lodge and the Mythic West: Coal Miners to Cowboys, (Lawrence: University of Kansas Press, 2002). 178

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of nature to alter one’s schedule. Programs to use chemical deicers punctuate the change. The contrast created by cleared streets in-town and views of snow-capped peaks outside of it completed the transformed mentality. The history of Flagstaff’s winter identity demonstrates that alternately conceptualizing snow as recreation and as refuse have been separated into well-defined geographic spheres. Furthermore, it proves that snow, as a product of nature in Flagstaff, has become subservient to its cultural construction.

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