Florence and the unexpected

Yesterday, Gary and I went to Florence, famous only because the Az. State Prison is there. We went for the purpose of doing some investigative exploring into the annuls of the local museum and old courthouse in hopes of finding some tidbit of information about Grandpa Bailey whose photo turned up standing next to Gov. Hunt in a google search my brother did. I knew that Grandpa had worked in the prison, possibly as the executioner. We thought perhaps the photo had something to do with some famous criminal who had been executed. (Strange how much it pains me to even think that this is what he did for a living, because I have grown so to love him. He was so very kind to me. My first puppy, Chico, came from him. My first bicycle, and of course, my beloved violin that Jessica now plays. He died when I was 11, so I never really thought about plying him for information about his life. Oh, the regrets we all have.)

But after lunch at Mt. Ethos, a very delectible eatery on the corner of Ruggles and 79, we journeyed out a few miles toward Tucson to a Greek Orthodox Monastery, expecting to find some little old church. What we found was nothing short of absolutely amazing and beyond incredible. A very alive and well monastery, complete with 7 different churches and a total oasis of palm trees, bushes, flowers, olive trees, beaugonvillas, fountains...monks strolling around in flowing black robes, all the present women dressed in long skirts, long sleeved blouses and head scarves. All visitors must don appropriate clothing to be acceptable, even the men must put on long sleeved shirts which they happily provide for you. They offer you a drink of water and an oatmeal cookie, a guidebook, and send you on your way. Photos are totally allowed, "just not the monks". I will let the photos tell you the rest.

After buying some bread and olives in the gift shop, we headed back to Florence to hit the museum for the last half hour it was opened. There were lots of "old" things there including some Blakeley glasses and a very cool piece of cholla cactus furniture, a typewriter with both lower and upper case letters, a bunch of hanging ropes enshrined in glass cases each encircling a photo of the demised, but for me, the greatest find was a photo of the doctor who delivered me. Dr. George Truman. I recognized him from a photo my mom had put in my baby book. So amazing!

The town of Florence is nearly deserted. It's other claim to fame is that Tom Mix, the early silent movie actor often came to Florence just to hang out. (In it's day, being so close to the silver mining operations of Superior, Florence was quite the place.). He was killed just outside of town driving through some barrier pyle-ons into a wash, which was subsequently named "Tom Mix Wash".

The courthouse is being resurfaced so has scaffolding all around it...thus the painting in lieu of a real photo. The last pics are from the original courthouse.

Quite the day...I must say. Just wanted to share a bit of it with you.

Sears Kay in mid April

Last evening, as we descended the rocky trail from Mt.Yesterday, I was so enveloped in the stillness. Now and then, a pottery sherd, now and then just a hint of the sounds that once bespoke humanity, a thousand years thereof, not only subsisting but apparently thriving on such God-provisions of yucca, prickly pear, rabbit...just about everything out there used for something. They even cultivated corn down in the creek bottom. It remains my favorite place here in the desert.