Walter is the honorary mayor in Oatman, Arizona, a ghost town on Route 66 that is often busier than Time Square on New Years Eve. I had the distinct pleasure of meeting him this past weekend during a book signing at Jackass Junction.
I would be remiss if it were not noted that Oatman is world famous for the semi wild burros that roam the streets. For people trying to simply drive through town they are a source of frustration. For me the sight of the donkeys standing on Route 66 in the shadow of the Oatman Hotel that was built in 1902 is somewhat comforting. They remind me that not all the asses are in Washington or state capitals.
Even though his position is an honorary one, Walter is a unique politician. Yes, he is an ass. But unlike many of the folks that profess to be politicians today, Walter unites rather than divides. When he comes to town, people smile.
Now, I knew about Walter but we had never met. And I knew that he was quite popular, but had no idea that he was a bonafide celebrity. He currently has more than 350,000 followers on his Facebook page. That really shouldn’t be a suprise when one considers how popular some politicians are, and, well, as noted most of them have something else in common with Walter.
My association with Oatman dates to the mid 1960s. But as with the awe inspiring section of Route 66 between Kingman and Oatman that twists and turns its way to the summit of Stigreaves Pass and down the other side, much has changed in that old mining town during the past fifty years.
Oatman was a whisper away from becoming a true ghost town when I was a kid. Today it is a quirky destination for legions of travelers, Route 66 enthusiasts, snow birds, and folks from Kingman, Bullhead City, Needles, Laughlin, and Lake Havasu City that are looking for a unique and memorable day trip, or some place special to take visiting relatives.
My dearest friend and I made the drive early Saturday morning, grabbed a bite to to eat on “the patio” at the historic Oatman Hotel. I savored an excellent buffalo burger, some sweet potato fries, and a good cup of coffee, and listened to the excited chatter of visitors.
Then I signed books at Jackass Junction, answered Route 66 questions, and assisted with travel planning assistance using materials provided by the City of Tucumcari, sponsors in Cuba, Missouri, and from other Route 66 locations. We wrapped up the event by the meeting with Walter, and walking down to sign books for April at Fast Fanny’s. Before starting for home we enjoyed a cold bottle of sarsaparilla at the Oatman Hotel, and marveled at the crowds of smiling happy visitors. The old town is but a shadow of what it was in the first decades of the 20th century, but with teeming crowds on the sidewalks it was hard to think of Oatman as a ghost town.
I never tire of the drive to Oatman. But this trip was special as it was my first official book signing in Oatman. Carol and Bill at Jackass Junction rolled out the red carpet and made us feel like old friends. You can bet that we will be back again, perhaps to help celebrate National Road Trip Day in May.
And you can bet the bottom dollar we will be visiting with Walter again.
Phase one of the narrated self guided historic district walking tour in Kingman, Arizona being developed by Kingman Main Street provided a new venue for exercising the talent that has led some folks to refer to me as “America’s storyteller. And it provided the opportunity to share fascinating stories such as the one about the Dunton family and their nearly 100 year association with Route 66.
In the 1930s Taylor Owen Ford operated from the old Kingman Motor Company facility across from the railroad depot. This garage and dealership complex had been established in about 1912 by J.A. Tarr.
After razing a house and service station at Front and Second Street, a new Taylor Owen Ford dealership was built in 1946. On June 13th of that year, it was announced that the newly completed dealership was being sold to N.R. Dunton, a garage owner from Goldroad, and that it would be renamed N.R. Dunton Motor Company.
Dunton had been working at the garage in Goldroad since the highway was known as the National Old Trails Road. He built Cool Springs, a service station complex, on the east side of Sitgreaves Pass in the Black Mountains in about 1925. Then after acquisition of the Goldroad garage, he beganoffering a towing service for vehicles that had trouble climibing the steep grade to the summit.
In 1950, the N.R. Dunton Motor Company was again reorganized and sold to Roy Dunton, nephew of N.R., and Herb Biddulph, the first mayor of Kingman. In about 1957, Roy Dunton bought out his partner and transformed the facility into an Edsel dealership. In 1960 with suspension of Edsel production the company began selling Ford, Lincoln, and Mercury vehicles. In 1963 it was converted to a GM franchise store. In 1980 the facility was leased to the Mohave County Road Department. Ten years later the Dunton family resumed management and created Dunton Motors Dream Machines. The facility is also the headquarters for the Route 66 Association of Kingman Arizona.
Even after penning twenty books and hundreds of feature articles, making countless presentations in the United States and Europe, and sitting for a multitude of interviews I still have trouble with that moniker. When I think of American storytellers, Will Rogers, Mark Twain and Paul Harvey come to mind.
But I imagine that most writers and tellers of tales suffer from something similar. The minds eye perception of self is often quite different from how the way the world sees us. The recent publication of a video by the crew at 2Lane Life is what started this train of thought. More specifically it was the comments posted that led to reflection on the title America’s storyteller.
Meanwhile, spring is shaping up to be a rather busy season for this old story teller even though having my Facebook account locked has created promotional and marketing issues. On Friday the 4th of March, 5:30 MST, at the Beale Street campus of Mohve Community College there is a reading of my new book, Here We Are … On Route 66. This will serve as the official kick off for the book that was released last month.
Then the following day at 1:00, I will make a presentation about the history of the great American road trip. This will take place at the Mohave Museum of History & Arts in Kingman.
Without access to Facebook the Coffee With Jim program on Sunday morning is being shifted to the Eventbrite platform. The Wake Up With Jim program, the Jim Hinckley’s Americaaudio podcast that is broadcast live on Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings at 6:30 MST, and archived on our Podbean page, is being added to additional app platforms.
A full slate of community education programs has been developed for Mohave Community College. These include walking tours in the historic business district and at historic sites such as Beale Springs, site of the 1870s military outpost and the first reservation for the Hualapai tribe.
But the big event is scheduled for May 27, National Road Trip Day. The proclamation will be made in Kingman and a block party event is being built around that annoucement. Linked with this will be a full weekend of events along Route 66 in Seligman, Oatman and Needles, if things go as planned.
What an interesting way to make a living as I ride out the last chapter of life, a professional gum beater. See you on the road, mi amigos.
The first filling station in Kingman, Arizona. Photo Mohave Museum of History & Arts
I was about seven years old when a grizzled old WWI vet took me to a special place that he knew in the sand hills near Port Huron, Michigan. It is still a vivid memory as I came home that day with arrowheads in my jacket pocket.
One summer Uncle Burton took me deep into the woods in north Georgia, and filled my head with vividly told tales of a Civil War battle that had left his grandfather wounded. I came back with a memory, a passion for history and storytelling, and two musket balls.
Long before I began sharing tales of adventures, and forgotten chapters in history, through books and feature articles, decades before the launch of Jim Hinckley’s America, the lines between past and present were blurred. In retrospect I now see that from an early age I was an adventure junkie with an insatiable curiosity.
One time I walked from a very good paying job to answer the Siren’s call. On that particular occasion that call was made manifest in an opportunity to search for gold in Lost Gold Basin. Another incident involved scorching summer temperatures, a leaking kayak purchased at a yard sale (have I mentioned that I don’t really swim?), the Colorado River, and a place called Ring Bolt Rapids that had been used by steam boats during the territorial era. And there was the Fiat incidents (s) in Poland, the Czech Republic and Slovakia.
Once I started writing, and them making presentations, it was though the flood gates had opened. With each new published book or feature article the opportunities for adventures linked to history increased exponentially.
The Historic Vehicle Association recreating Edsel Ford’s 1915 trip stops in the Black Mountains.
Dateline, Kingman, Arizona, July 16, 1915. Edsel Ford, driving a new Ford, arrived in Kingman last evening with associates and stayed at the Brunswick Hotel. He is traveling the National Old Trails Road with friends. Their destination is the Panama Pacific Exposition in California. Ford is also visiting and evaluating Ford agencies.
Edsel’s journey along the National Old Trails Road was a story that I was unfamiliar with, until the summer of 2015. That was the when the Historic Vehicle Association asked for my assistance. They were recreating Edsel’s odyssey in a 1915 Ford, and that meant that I had a very rare opportunity for a bit of time travel. For a couple of days I experienced travel in western Arizona as it was in the years before WWI.
Then, with encouragement from my dearest friend, several years ago I severed the tether. We took the plunge. Resultant of eye trouble (I couldn’t see any reason to put up with my employers increasingly abusive treatment and they couldn’t see any reason to put up with my deteriorating attitude) we pinned everything on Jim Hinckley’s America. Paying bills, eating on a regular basis, all of it was now dependent on my gift for telling people where to go and my talents for story telling.
The adventures and opportunity for adventures escalated dramatically. A book signing in California morphed into an interview with Jay Leno at his legendary garage. A trip to the European Route 66 Festival in Czechia with friends provided an opportunity to tow a broken Fiat, with a rope, down the Autobahn in Germany on a beautiful summer Sunday morning. A business trip to Germany opened the door to speak before high school classes about Route 66 and Americas societal evolution in the 20th century.
Jay Leno and my dearest friend at Auto Books – Aero Books during a book signing.
And now, work is underway to transform a hair brained idea into an epic adventure that includes educational programs. It centers on acquisition of sponsors, purchase of a vintage vehicle (Model A Ford?), and a road trip along Route 66 from end to end. Discussion are underway with sponsors. The search is on for a suitable vehicle. There have been meetings with producers to discuss making the adventure into a program that provides road trip inspiration as well shares history. The crowdfunding on Patreon has commenced. And lastly there are discussions with schools. Stay tuned.
Somehow, while building Jim Hinckley’s America, I morphed from an author trying to find a way to support the writing habit into America’s storyteller, at least according to accolades and news stories. And I recently learned that this is going to be made manifest in a life sized bronze statue of me in my adopted hometown of Kingman, Arizona.
This is part of a Kingman Main Streetprogram that includes development of a self guided narrated walking tour of the historic business district and Route 66 corridor.
Adventure addiction. It can lead to some pretty amazing places. It can lead to some wonderful friendships. And it can ensure that boredom is merely a word in the dictionary.
I was an odd kid, and still am. For about as long as I can remember there has been a fascination with cemeteries. I used to take my books to the local cemetery, find a shady spot, and while away an afternoon reading. It made me happier than fleas on a puppy.
Ma always said that I was born ninety and never seemed to age. My fascination with cemeteries were but one of the reasons she felt this way.
There are a lot of lessons to be learned in a cemetery. Life is short, some lives are shorter than others. Death is simply part of life. Death is not to be feared as it keeps us focused on what makes life worth living; family, friends, adventures, shared adventures, laughter with friends, making memories and working daily to make our corner of the world a bit better than it was when we got here.
Chris LeDoux in his song The Ride had some real words of wisdom. He said “Sit tall in the saddle, Hold your head up high
Keep your eyes fixed where the trail meets the sky
And live like you ain’t afraid to die
And don’t be scared, just enjoy your ride”
Perhaps one of the most important lessons to be learned from a cemetery walkabout is to keep the ego in check. Praise and adulation are short lived.
Case in point, George Grantham. On a recent morning walkabout through Mountain View Cemetery in Kingman, Arizona, I came across the grave marker for George Grantham.
Grantham was born in Galena, Kansas in 1900. He went to school in Kingman and Flagstaff, Arizona. George Farley “Boots” Grantham was also a Major League second baseman who played for the Chicago Cubs, Pittsburgh Pirates, Cincinnati Reds, and New York Giants between 1922 and 1934. He played in the 1927 World Series. He died in 1954. His final resting place has a simple marker. George Grantham 1900-1954. Nothing more. And yet there was a time when every baseball fan in America knew his name.
Over the years I have had a few brushes with fame. An interview with Jay Leno in his world famous garage. Twenty books published. Well attended presentations with media coverage in a half dozen countries. Recipient of the bronze medal at the International Automotive Media Awards for The Big Book of Car Culture. Appointment to a couple of prestigious committees.
And I have had some low points. Some were my fault. Some were simply bad luck. Others were just simply a part of life. But those are stories best saved for another day.
Aside from cemeteries I developed a passion for early morning walkabouts decades ago. With few exceptions, summer or winter, in Germany, Arizona or Minnesota, at least three or four days a week, I savor a morning walkabout.
This is the best way I know to clear the head. It is also the best way that I know for starting the day with eager anticipation.
For the past few weeks there has been much to meditate upon. Working with Kingman Main Street, if the fund raising initiative is successful, I will be developing the long dreamed of historic district walking tour.
It will be a multifaceted project that blends the old and new. There will be kiosks with historic photo and caption, credit given to the sponsor and a QR code that allows for narration which expands on the caption. The corresponding website will have a then and now photo, a 360 degree photo and the audio of the narration. The website will allow for a virtual tour of Kingman.
I am so excited about this project. It is the second part of the initiative that I am struggling with. I am to be honored with a life sized bronze statue created by internationally acclaimed artist J. Anne Butler. The statue will stand in a pocket park at the historic depot. The park will contain a brick garden commemorating those who contributed to funding the project. It will also contain the initial Route 66 Walk of Fame that was launched in 2014, and shelved shortly afterwards. The walk of fame will also be given a new lease on life with regular additions.
I harbor no illusions. Fame is fleeting. It has never been something that I pursued. I am honored. I am humbled. And I am a tad bit uncomfortable.
The tentative date for completion of phase one of the tour, and the unveiling, is toward the end of next May at the kick off of the national road trip festivities. The way time flies, that isn’t very long.
Meanwhile I have another book to finish. And I have a visitor guide to develop for the City of Tucumcari as well as two articles to pen for Route. There are also a few presentations and a need to have the outlines for the community education programs I teach at Mohave Community College completed.
And, perhaps, there will be a road trip between then and now as well as visits with friends. Definitely lots to meditate upon during the morning walkabouts.
Then there is a little matter of dusting off a dream. Perhaps this is the year that I see Route 66 through the windshield of a Model A Ford, or a Studebaker Dictator. Perhaps this is the year that I emulate Edsel Ford, and see America in a whole new light.
Another birthday is fast approaching. That is always a reason for a bit of reflection, especially during the sunrise walkabouts. This year the thoughts seem to be running deeper than ever.
I am mere weeks away from submitting book number twenty to the publisher, and earlier this week a contract was signed for book number twenty-one. The quest to become a writer when I grow up continues, and that is reason for reflection.
As with any birthday, age is a factor that contributes to deep thoughts as the milestone draws closer. It now takes a hard squint to see sixty in the rear view mirror. Seventy is looming at the top of the hill. That in itself is good reason for reflection.
The fact that my pa passed last year is another. He was a hard man with a truly odd sense of humor. Starting at age forty, he would call me every birthday before 6:00 A.M. The message was always the same, “Another birthday. How does it feel being a day closer to death knowing that your best years are behind you?” Then he would hang up.
Well, at least from that point the day had to get better, and it always did. That summed up pa’s way of teaching, be it swimming, driving or how to confront life with a smile.
By nature, believe it or not, I am a reclusive sort of fellow that is most comfortable in the big empty places, and in towns with less than three stoplights. Still, one of my most memorable birthdays took place a few years ago.
The Route 66 Association of Kingman hosted a meet and greet for members of the Dutch Route 66 Association. Someone figured out it was by birthday. Well, in short order it turned out to be an international birthday celebration shared with friends. Adding to the fun the organizer had aged me by a year as evidenced by the writing on the cake. There was no need to say anything or make an announced correction. It was simply a time for reflection on what a fortunate man I am.
I am confident that having survived the apocalyptical year that was 2020 is another contributing factor. Last April just before the birthday, as sick as I was, survival was in doubt. So, this is reason for introspective thinking, and a tad bit of rejoicing in the year 2021.
Friends and business associates lost in the past year, that too is reason for somber reflection. Likewise with the current political situation that has me wondering when paranoia became as popular as the Super Bowl, and a large percentage of folk decided that it was a good idea to elect representatives that blend the worst of politics with the worst of televangelism.
This has also made me feel as though I have walked into the middle of a French movie with Japanese subtitles, and there will be a test about the film in the morning. Even my search of history for answers (currently reading a biography about Harry Truman) hasn’t provided solace. I just can’t seem to find a period, at least in American history, when people have been so easily and willingly divided.
I really feel sorry for comedians in this era. The politicians are writing material for them at record speed but they have no sense of humor, and it is increasingly obvious that they sure as hell don’t like the competition. I can remember when saying, “don’t tell my mother I am a politician, she thinks I am in prison” was a joke.
Lots of irons in the fire, and those also lead to some deep thoughts. Aside from the books, I am increasingly being asked to make presentations. I am hoping to be doing these in person again soon but meanwhile Zoom is pressed into service.
There is the distinct possibility that Jim Hinckley’s America, at least a few pilot episodes, will be shot for the FastTV Network soon. This is definitely another reason for deep thought.
And of course, a birthday is always reason to give thought on the twists and turns of life, and how I got to this point. This in turn leads to thoughts about what the future may hold, and how much time is left.
So, here is to birthdays. Here is to reflection, meditation, and to giving thanks, to old friends and to milestones. Here is to the grand adventure that we call life.
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In 1950, the N.R. Dunton Motor Company was again reorganized and sold to Roy Dunton, nephew of N.R., and Herb Biddulph, the first mayor of Kingman. In about 1957, Roy Dunton bought out his partner and transformed the facility into an Edsel dealership. In 1960 with suspension of Edsel production the company began selling Ford, Lincoln, and Mercury vehicles. In 1963 it was converted to a GM franchise store. In 1980 the facility was leased to the Mohave County Road Department. Ten years later the Dunton family resumed management and created Dunton Motors Dream Machines. The facility is also the headquarters for the Route 66 Association of Kingman Arizona.
A full slate of community education programs has been developed for Mohave Community College. These include walking tours in the historic business district and at historic sites such as Beale Springs, site of the 1870s military outpost and the first reservation for the Hualapai tribe.
