Why was Arizona so tardy to the party?

Bisbee, Arizona celebrates the 4th of July in 1909

Arizona was the last contiguous state to join the Union. That probably should be rephrased as the last state allowed to join the Union. Arizona became a full-fledged state on February 14^th, 1912. At the time, the population was around 200,000, but it was not the wide open spaces that held Arizona back. After all, Nevada became a state in 1864 with a population of less than 20,000. What was the deference between these two desert states?

Nevada had two things Washington mucky-mucks desperately wanted: the Comstock Lode and electoral votes to help reelect Lincoln to a second term. Money and votes—what could be more enticing to a politician? Between 1859 and 1865 an estimated $50 million in ore was removed from the earth. Quite a haul. But wait a minute; Tombstone produced 32 million troy ounces of silver valued at between $40-85 million, which in today’s dollars would be worth about $2 billion. Wasn’t that enough to warrant an invitation to the club?

Actually, statehood looked close around 1880. In the great West, Tombstone was only behind San Francisco in commerce and culture. As early as 1877, Arizona Territorial Governor A. P. K. Safford predicted that the Territory "will soon become a State." What happened?

October 26, 1881

The gunfight at the O.K. Corral is what happened. This fight and the aftermath were reported by all of the Eastern tabloids of the day and the reputation of Arizona was reset in a few deadly seconds. How could Congress welcome a lawless wasteland into the Union? (No snickers.) By the time Arizona was finally admitted, the silver had played out and Tombstone was nearly a ghost town. So, shunning Arizona can be blamed on the Earps or the cow-boys, depending on which side of the feud you prefer.

"Thar's gold in them thar hills."

After a healthy breakfast, we took a morning walk in a residential area of Gardnerville. The air was brisk, sky clear, and the surrounding mountains breathtaking. These acre-plus, rural lots lodged horses, dogs, poultry, restored antique trackers, friendly neighbors, and apple trees in full blossom.

Late morning, we took off for Virginia City. Not much had changed since my last visit … which was good. Except for the crowds. My last visit was during the height of summer tourism, with people crowding the streets, cafes, saloons, museums, and shops. This time we had this historic town all to ourselves. I was surprised that everyone could answer our most obscure questions. The people who work in Virginia City know town history and trivia.

In one store, a friendly old coot told us all about the guns, ore samples, and minerals on display. To prove his bona fides, he pulled out his wallet to show us his membership card in a gold miner association and photographs of nuggets he had found. Then he lifted a chain around his neck to display the Pièce de résistance, a one-ounce gold nugget. We were impressed and let him convince us to buy a 50 million year old insect embedded in a piece of amber. For $34, it would be a unique gift for our rock hound grandson. When I pulled out my wallet, he said I needed to go find someone who worked in the shop. That was a surprise. For all of his familiarity with the stock and his astute salesmanship, I had assumed he was connected with the store, but no, he was just an old miner eager to share his knowledge with tourists. We discovered our friendly miner was not exceptional. 

At lunch, we discovered our relentlessly cute server had lived and worked in Virginia City for eons. When asked a casual question about Mark Twain, she proved smarter than my wife's iPhone and more knowledgeable than most American Literature professors about Twain's stint in Virginia City. 

With limited crowds, the shopkeepers, barkeeps, and café employees were all eager to share information about their historic town. We had a great day, and I gathered up some material for the next Steve Dancy Tale.