DINING


WITH THE DEAD ‘Ghosts from the Past’


Arizona Charlie By GARY GRIECO


I am one of the 90,000 sun- seeking RVers who migrate to Yuma, Arizona most winters. Some of us, along


with Yuma residents come together one evening of the year in Yuma’s desert Pioneer Cemetery to pay homage to ghosts from the past and to ‘Dine with the Dead’. To my mind, there are two major


types of ghosts—those that haunt places, and those that haunt people. Yuma’s old Pioneer Cemetery definitely falls into the first category. Certain odours are sometimes associated with a haunting, usually pleasant, sometimes not. Here is a story. On this night I tramped along a dusty


path through the historic burial site that overlooks Gila Valley and the new glittering Yuma Palms Mall. I could detect the sweet scent of dry desert sand and fragrant blossoms. It was then I chanced to meet a most singular gentleman. He was well turned out with a silver bushy beard, and stood calmly by a mounded gravesite…as though waiting…for something—or—someone. A short black-barrelled shotgun hung loosely in one hand, while the other rested on a large pistol in a worn leather holster strapped to his thigh. I introduced myself, and boldly asked,


“If I’m not being too impertinent, what is your name, when were you born, and when did you die?” He looked me long in the eye, and said,


“Abram Henson Meadow was my given name, but I’m also known as Charlie Meadows. Buffalo Bill Cody named me ‘Arizona Charlie’ when I was performing as a sharp shooter in his Wild West Show, and that name stuck. In fact, I had a dozen careers, and a thousand schemes.


Occasionally, one paid off. I prospered in the Canadian Klondike gold rush, and my ‘Grand Opera House’, now called the ‘Palace


Grand Teatre’, is still a landmark today in downtown Dawson City.” “I was born in Visalia, California in


1859 and retired to Yuma for the dry healthy climate aſter an exciting life. Californians started calling us “Zonies”, while old-time Arizonans referred to themselves as Hassayampers, aſter the storied Hassayapmpa River Legend in the Sonoran Desert. Te claim was that once you drank its water, you can never tell the truth again. I’m known to have said that it would be a ‘snowy’ day in Yuma when they bury this old Hassayamper.” He paused, a steely glint in his dark


eyes; “And, as for your other rude question, I passed on December 19th


,


1932 of natural causes…on the day it snowed an inch and a half in downtown Yuma.” I thanked Arizona Charlie and his eyes


lit-up as he looked over my shoulder while saying, “Well, if it isn’t Calamity Jane come to visit.” “Howdy Charlie, it’s mighty good to


see you”. Her slouch hat was pulled low over


her eyes, a red bandana around her neck. She wore a long open, oilskin duster coat. A big, holstered pistol faced forward, centered on her waist. I knew her reputation as a woman


of the Wild West renowned for sharp- shooting, whiskey swilling, cross- dressing ways and kindness to others. She looked me up and down, smiled, and stuck out her hand. “I’m not resting in this cemetery, but I always enjoy our special night each year. I just wish Wild Bill Hickok could be here with me.” I said my farewells and walked on in


the solemn stillness as dusk approached, and nearly bumped into two more famous shades from Yuma’s past.


DINING WITH THE DEAD:


January 30, 2016, Yuma Pioneer Cemetery For more info, call 928-247-3924


“King Samuel Woolsey”, a Confederate sympathizer who epitomized everything that represents what we think as of the old west. Woolsey introduced me to a tall,


handsome man named ‘Sherriff James T. Dana’, who told me his story. “I died September 20th


, 1871, a few days aſter


our posse chased my killer into a river bottom. In the shoot-out I got shot with a glass tipped arrow that pierced my liver. My killer, Que-Cha-Co escaped from prison and was never recaptured.” And now it was time to dine under


spreading foliage of Arizona’s state tree, the Palo Verde. A tasty BBQ dinner was catered by Yuma’s ‘Texas Roadhouse’. Te guided cemetery tour features


period dressed storytellers standing by pioneer gravesites and telling their life and death stories. Yuma’s Genealogical Society started ‘Dining with the Dead’ in 2002 before handing this yearly celebration over to the Colorado River Riders. “Most of the re-enactors are members


of the Colorado River Riders,” said Randy Smith, Committee Chairman, who portrayed King Samuel Woolsey. Tis popular event is a fundraiser for ‘Saddles of Joy’, a non-profit organization that offers therapeutic horse riding. You should know that Yuma was a


small, but very progressive town in the olden days. It was at the crossroads where people heading west came to ford the mighty Colorado River, directly below where the Old Territorial Prison still stands. Of the Military, Gold Rush Miners,


and pioneers all heading for California, many made the trek—some stayed. For some it was the last stop aſter driſting away from the cold, the past, and the old ways—trying to find a new lifestyle in the desert heat, year round sun, and images that evoke gunfighters, date palms, hot springs, and the present day 24 hour casinos. And yet today, Yuma remains a small,


safe city that is an irresistible treat to RVers. f


Wear comfortable shoes, bring a flashlight and small portable chair if you need to sit during the gravesite presentations.


RVT 169 • JANUARY/FEBRUARY 2016 9


Page 1  |  Page 2  |  Page 3  |  Page 4  |  Page 5  |  Page 6  |  Page 7  |  Page 8  |  Page 9  |  Page 10  |  Page 11  |  Page 12  |  Page 13  |  Page 14  |  Page 15  |  Page 16  |  Page 17  |  Page 18  |  Page 19  |  Page 20  |  Page 21  |  Page 22  |  Page 23  |  Page 24  |  Page 25  |  Page 26  |  Page 27  |  Page 28  |  Page 29  |  Page 30  |  Page 31  |  Page 32