Geographical Table: Mesa

    For as long as I can remember, my family has taken a summer vacation to California. While there, we would visit family friends, visit theme parks and go to the beach. It is funny that even all those years ago as a child, I remember having the distinct thought that California wasn’t home. I remember wearing my D.A.R.E. shirt that I got in fifth grade and noticing someone else wearing one. The only difference was that mine had, Arizona on the front and his had California on it. I first thought how strange it looked and then was sad for him that he wasn’t from Arizona.

 

    I have always felt a love for my home state of Arizona. Part of who I am is Arizona and Mesa.

 

    Mesa, I learned as a child, was the Spanish word for table. My city is a geographic table. As a child, I took comfort in knowing that while we lived near the Salt River we were safe from flooding. A silly thought, knowing that the river is always dry (I have only seen it run twice in two decades). Mesa as my hometown is very important. I feel a strong connection with this city, I am proud of my city. My neighborhood has a very strong sense of community; to me Mesa always had kind of a small town feeling even though it was a city (much bigger now than it was then). I love the talent that was produced in my high school and other high schools that were shown in plays and musicals. I love the smell of citrus blossoms and the Easter Pageant at the Mesa Mormon Temple.

 

    What makes Mesa great is the people that are here. Mesa has experienced trouble and there are people, like my brother, who would just as soon abandon Mesa and move somewhere else. Fortunately, those like him are a minority and there are many more who are here to stay and who are dedicated to making Mesa the city that it has been and can be. These quality people are the fiber of Mesa.

 

    Another strength that Mesa has is its diversity. There are many people of different cultural backgrounds and ethnicities. Those from different backgrounds give flavor and a new perspective to Mesa.

 

    I love Mesa and Arizona and can’t imagine living anywhere else. Anyone could be proud to live in Mesa.

“Above” the normal town

     Mesa received its name because it is located on a plateau or a mesa. It is situated above the rest of the valley of the sun. Mesa is “above” the normal town. With its sunny Arizona skies, clean and bright busy streets, friendly neighborly people, and a town that is patriotic to their country is what makes Mesa, Arizona a place for me to call home.

 

     Mesa has such nice weather, especially in the winter. It is always a lift to my spirits to feel the warmth of the sunshine on my face. This sunshine makes it possible to do all sorts of fun activities. For example, I take my little niece on long strolls around my neighborhood. She loves it, and I love it. It is a time when we can spend good quality aunt and niece time and enjoy the fresh air. I also enjoy riding bikes with my friends and family. It feels so nice to ride in Mesa with the nice clean air blowing across my face. The Mesa weather is also great for me to run a few laps around the nearby track at the junior high school. Mesa weather is magnificent for my family and me.

 

     Although there is a large population in Mesa, most of the streets are clean and well kept. The city works very hard to make the streets and sidewalks sparkling clean. City workers plant beautiful plants and trees that make Mesa have a more down home feeling. It is getting close to the time of year when many of the bushes start to bloom. Many of these bushes have a tiny purple flower that look beautiful. Since Mesa is such a well-populated city, it’s hard for the workers to do all the cleaning themselves. People volunteer to help clean and make Mesa look beautiful. Occasionally, the church to which I belong, does a service project to help our city. The youth of our church have put forth extra effort to clean up around our neighborhoods. Having clean neighborhoods and well kept streets make Mesa a pleasure to call my home.

 

     The city of Mesa has lots of nice, wonderful people living in it. Many of these of people surround me. Every once in a while, we have a block party to get to know our neighbors. My immediate neighborhood is extraordinary. We all trust and look out for each other. For example, our neighbors next door, the Smith’s, had a terrible tragedy in their family. The news reporters came to our neighborhood and interviewed us. We felt it very important to defend our neighbors. They are such good, hard working, and law-abiding people. All of our neighbors said pleasant things about the Smith’s and refused to refer to the tragedy. The news reporters even mentioned that they have never seen such a close-knit neighborhood. We have such a good friendship with our backdoor neighbors that we even have a gate through our back fence to their yard. All of the neighborhood kids and adults pass through our backyard if they need to go to the next street over. It’s nice to know that we can trust those around us.

 

     This caring, friendly attitude carries to our community. I used to work at a dry cleaning business. While working there, I met many customers. There were always people hurrying in and out. One day, while I was working, a man came in, gave me his clothes to be cleaned and picked up his last load of clothes he dropped off a few days earlier. He noticed that I had many other clothes that other people had brought in. As he was leaving, he said, “I know how hard it is to run a dry cleaning business. My parents use to own one and it was hard work. So here is an extra $5.00 for you to keep.”  There have also been numerous times that I have gone to get a single item at the store for my mom. While waiting in line, the person ahead of me realizes that I only had one item and they had many. Being a thoughtful, considerate person, they offer to let me go ahead of them. Another example of our close-knit community is a few years ago, there was an incident at my church. Someone set a fire to our chapel. Many people in our community felt a great sadness that this was done. A prayer meeting was organized by about 10 different religions in our community. We met outside our church where prayers were offered. There was such a good feeling there that it helped our church know that our community cared.

 

     The community of Mesa continually displays a patriotic attitude. In the community, there are many different religions. At the year mark of September 11, 2001, many people from our community came together and held a patriotic meeting. We emphasized that we were united in sorrow for that tragic event. We honored those who died on that heartbreaking day.

 

     Many people and businesses in Mesa are proud to display our national flag. In my neighborhood, the scouts  promote flying flags on national holidays by offering a service to set up flags for each home. We in turn give them a donation so they can attend scout camp. In addition, in our meetings at church we pray for those fighting in the war in Iraq.  A strong tradition in Mesa is our Veterans Day Parade. It’s really neat to see people honor those who have defended our freedom. The community of Mesa always shows their patriotism to our country.

 

     Mesa is a great place to live. With great weather, clean streets, friendly and giving people, and a patriotic loyalty to our country, Mesa is the number one place to grow up and learn the American way of life.

The Beauty Of a True Home

The Beauty of a True Home

 

     Wandering through the desert, I hear the howl of a coyote in the distance. I understand how he feels. I understand his love for the gorgeous mountains and the feel of the hot wind blowing through the trees. The desert has a singularly beautiful way of inviting you to share a moment, to forget your cares as you watch the sun set with its amazing display of color and warmth. For me, Mesa, Arizona is more than simply where my house is, it is like a member of my family that comforts and embraces me in its mysterious beauty.

 

     Every evening, I climb the hill behind my home and sit among the natural beauty only Arizona can provide. I soak in the calm of the desert and let my worries drift away as I realize infinitesimal they seem when I look at the city I love. I especially love the way the whole city changes at the setting of the sun. The pink and orange rays spread above the spattered city lights, showing the harmonious coexistence of nature and civilization. Living in Mesa has taught me of the balance that must be struck between nature and the modern world. It has given me an interesting perspective of the world, as I understand better than most how important it is to just wander in the desert, to commune with nature.

 

     It is an amazing joy to me to be able to simply walk outside and thus walk away from the complications of society. In the wild of the desert, life is much simpler. As I hike, I see all sorts of creatures simply trying to live out their lives. I see jackrabbits gathering food for their ever-expanding families and little birds flitting from branch to branch, gathering twigs to build a nest for their eggs. I catch sights of snakes slithering off to find their prey or merely sliding home. Here, there is none of the drama of the world. There is no backstabbing or greed. There is only life, pure and simple; each moment lived toward a purpose, no time wasted upon this earth. It makes me reconsider my life each time I take a small foray into theirs.

 

     When I return to the city and my life, I am refreshed from the journey and I have a renewed idea of what I would like to accomplish in my life. I throw myself back into the rushed world of the city, a city that I love as much as I love the desert it’s adjacent to. My world is filled with people that I love in a city that is unlike any other, my city. It is filled with such a strong sense of vitality, seeming to me to actually be alive. Its heart is Main Street and through it, pumps cars and bikes, people rushing about their lives. The streets are laid out in a rational grid-like manner from the heart of the city, so rational and thus so different from the wilderness next door. This provides the balance to nature, a logical half of the city to compliment the wild side, much like the left side of the brain compliment the right.

 

     Mesa is a wonderfully balanced city that offers everything you would need. It is not only filled with an amazing sense of life, but will also provide you with an extra member of the family that will take you on adventure after adventure into the wonder and beauty of nature.

 

Constantly under Construction

Mesa is a place of growth, thriving with opportunity for anyone and everyone. Mesa is a fine place to settle down. Ideal places to start a family, more and more schools are built every few years. The school curriculum pushes its students to work hard and learn more each day with accomplishments and goals that are recognized. Being a growing city, Mesa is constantly under construction. Buildings are going up all around town and promising a plethora of jobs to the people of, not just Mesa, but all over Arizona! The working guy or gal won’t have a problem finding a corporate or even regular job here in Mesa.

No other city has sunsets like Mesa does. Truly a sight to see, with all the pinks and oranges swooping across the desert sky while the sun starts to dim and hide behind the beautiful Superstition Mountains! Because Arizona is a desert state, the rain seasons bring on marvelous weather, with perfect temperatures and cloudy skies that inspire the entire city, for it is a rare sight indeed. Summer also brings about the heat, and plenty of Mr. Sunshine to brighten all of Mesa’s summer. Not to mention the immense opportunity to lay out or swim in the pool all summer long! With plenty of entertainment; night clubs, huge shopping centers, classes and clubs for activities such as swimming, basketball, art, gymnastics, and so much more, it is difficult to get bored here in Mesa, in fact, you may not have enough time to do all you need and want in one day or week! The choices and combinations of lifestyle are unlimited. I go crazy with it! Anyone would if they lived in Mesa!

 

Monsoon in the Desert

    August 5, 2006, 7:03 pm. I am driving eastbound on I-10, which means I am really heading north toward home. ‘Entering Marana town limits’, only a few more minutes on the freeway and I will be to the Marana exit. I am leaving the hustle and bustle of midtown Tucson behind me in the blink of an eye, as I long to reach the serenity that Marana beholds. My little black Civic is almost completely dry from the monsoon that is now rolling out. Ahh, monsoons, the best part of the summer.

 

    I cannot wait for each July to come around because that is when the monsoon season begins. Our summer monsoons are unlike anything many have seen before. In a split second, the sky becomes black and ominous with huge billowing clouds. That is when the light show begins. Amazingly beautiful yet completely frightening streaks of lightning blaze across the sky. Shortly after the lightning strikes, a colossal crack of thunder sounds. The noise is so loud it makes my very soul tremble. It creates a strange sensation, I am completely terrified that nature can create such commotion, yet exhilarated and cannot wait for the next quake. Then, the rain begins, first only a slight drizzle. Within minutes, buckets of water are pouring out of the sky in a hypnotizing pattern that I cannot help but gaze at. I take it all in and enjoy every moment; because I know in less than the time it takes to watch an episode of ‘I Love Lucy,’ the concert will be over. There is no encore today, but the aftermath of this monsoon is captivating. The streets are lined by rushing rivers and the washes are actually flowing. There is a sigh of relief heard from the desert floor because it has gotten a break from the relentless heat of the burning sun. The plants are drinking up every drop and in only a few days the whole landscape will transform from cacti and bare mesquite trees to an abundance of greenery and vibrant flowers that is very seldom seen here. Ahh….the monsoons.

 

    As I approach the exit, the clouds begin to part and leave just as quick as they came. I am in luck, the sun sets soon and there is no sunset like an Arizona sunset. Safely off the freeway, I turn onto the frontage road. I see the skeleton of the old cotton gin to the right and it evokes visions of old farmers bringing their freshly cut crop to the gin; and it saddens me that I never was able to witness the farmers hard at work. All that is left is the eerie carcass that represents what once was the only way of life out here. I know I am close to home when the temperature drops ten degrees because of the irrigation ditches running along the frontage road. It is the perfect time to roll the window down, feel the refreshing breeze on my face, and breathe in the crisp scent of the sweet corn growing in the fields. I look up and see that remarkable sunset. As the sun ducks below the horizon, the most brilliant colors fill the sky. A hot lilac is closest to the horizon followed by a bright fuchsia, next a blood red and a deep tangerine orange tops it off. The silhouette of Picacho Peak frames the myriad of colors. Glorious! I glance back at the fields and the rows of corn zooming by become entrancing. I could watch it for hours, but the cornfield quickly turns into an open grass field where the cattle are sprinkled about. They are all feeding on the lush grass that has grown dramatically due to the wonderful monsoon season.

 

    As I finally reach home, the sun has completely disappeared and the moon and stars begin to twinkle. Then that familiar serenade begins. The toads begin to sing a sweet melody. After the rains, I can always count on the toads to come around. Then their back-up singers chime in, the charming chirp of the crickets. The light from the stars and the moon are in full force now. There is no light pollution and every constellation is visible. I get absolutely get lost in the vastness of the universe and the mesmerizing glimmer of the stars. Sadly, it is time to turn in. Tomorrow I will be able to experience this astounding place all over again. It is important to appreciate Marana in its entire splendor because it is rapidly becoming developed and soon what once was a sleepy farming community will become a bustling suburb. So, I ask you, What isn’t there to love about Marana?

A Desireable Location

    I moved to Arizona in May of 1992. We have lived in Avondale, Goodyear, and Litchfield Park. Litchfield Park is where we currently live, and I consider it my hometown. Litchfield Park is a unique community. The community is older, with the Wigwam Resort right in the middle. There are several nice parks, a recreation center, a library and a small downtown area. When one drives into Litchfield Park, one has the feeling of stepping back into a less hectic, simpler time. The homes are predominately one-story homes, with mature landscaping, and all of the homes do not look exactly the same. There may be similar models, but each home is unique in appearance. In a cookie-cutter world of housing developments, this is a nice change.

 

    We tried many times to purchase a home in Litchfield Park, and were unsuccessful. The resale value is amazing, and homes just don’t stay on the market long enough for most owners to be willing to accept a contingency. It is a very desirable location, which speaks volumes considering the area is surrounded by newer home developments. We were fortunate enough to find a home whose owner had not yet actually listed, was waiting for a retirement home to be built and allowed us to purchase this home. We have done extensive remodeling, and just love the house and the neighborhood. The homes have continued to hold fair market value, in spite of people fearing that the newer homes would make this a less desirable area, the opposite has held true and Litchfield Park continues to be a sought after community.

 

    One of the things I love best about Litchfield Park is that it is a quiet, family oriented, community. When I drive into Litchfield, it always reminds me of Coronado Island, CA. where my husband was stationed while in the Navy. I believe it’s the age of the community that leads to a feeling of unpretentiousness. Although there are million plus dollar homes in the community, there are also apartments, town homes, condominiums, and single-family homes in a more reasonable price range. The collection of multiple income levels is appealing, because there is a place for everyone.

 

    The schools in the Litchfield Elementary School District are award winning. The Agua Fria Union High School District is also a top-notch school district, providing quality education for my son. Overall, I have never felt at home in Arizona until we moved into Litchfield Park, the peacefulness, and the community feel have finally made me able to say, “Arizona is my Home.”

Leaving New York

     I live in Litchfield Park, AZ, located on the outskirts of Phoenix, but this is not where I have always lived. I grew up in Brockport, NY, a small and beautiful town on the outskirts of Rochester and built around the Erie Canal. I loved that town so much that it became a part of me. The little festivals, carnivals and town activities became things that I looked forward to in the summer, once all the snow and ice from winter had melted.

 

     Being a small town, people knew each other, and everyone there had a sense of community and responsibility to each other. They are all very warm, welcoming and interdependent, I miss it. The buildings in the heart of Brockport are all so full of history, all of which were built in the early 1900’s or earlier, and on some you can even see the faint glimmerings of painted billboards from a hundred or so years ago. The history and small town charm captured my heart. My family and I had left for economical reasons, being that much of the North Eastern United States is dependant on manufacturing, the majority of which has all since been outsourced over seas. So all of us, my mother, my father, my brother and I, packed up everything we had and made the move all the way across the country to this small town in Arizona, which I now call home.

 

     Litchfield Park reminds me of Brockport in many ways. Litchfield Park is a small and historical town, started in 1916 by Paul Litchfield. This town started when the Goodyear Tire plant bought land to grow Egyptian cotton for tire cords. Some of the land was then used for agriculture and the rest was residential. What I love best about Litchfield Park is that there is always some sort of festival, outdoor concert or community picnic to participate in where you can meet wonderful and warm people. My favorite festival is the Litchfield Park Summer Arts Festival. In the center of Old Litchfield, the roads are closed and hundreds of booths are set up for the artisans, craftspeople and musicians, the food vendors and much more. This festival in particular has allowed me to see some of the extraordinary talents that are right in my back yard, so to speak. The people that my family and I have met since we have been here have all been so kind and welcoming, which has made moving here less intimidating and more comfortable.

 

     Litchfield Park is unique, and possesses a few things that Brockport does not. What first caught my eye when we arrived here was the breathtaking scenery: the beautiful mountains all around us, the palm trees and desert flowers, the colors in the sunset sky and so on. It is quite amazing. One major difference in particular is that business here is booming, which unfortunately is more than can be said for Brockport, since its major businesses moved their production over seas. When I was in high school, I was trying to juggle three jobs, homework and the swim team all at once, which as one might imagine, is not an easy task. I, as well as most of my friends then, was forced to work so many jobs because each place had only had a few hours a week that they could offer to me. Due to the economic situation, no work place could afford to pay a high school student more than minimum wage. Out here, on the other hand, I was able to find a job very quickly, which is a nice change of pace. My father was laid off from Kodak in 1998 after working there for eighteen years and then was only able to find short-term contracting positions until our move here in 2004. My family and I have been so blessed here, a place we can work and that reminds us in subtle ways of the place we left behind.

 

     Litchfield Park is a beautiful place to live and work and has quickly become a place to love. After leaving Brockport, I thought I would never feel at home anywhere again. I have been very pleasantly surprised. This place has a tight knit community of hard working and compassionate people with just the right mixture of small town charm and big city economy. Overall, it has become the perfect place to live and grow, a wonderful choice of location for anyone to live.

A Unique place to be

     I may have never traveled beyond the walls of my state until I was 12 years old, and even before I received a taste of what else was out in the world, I knew that my hometown was unique, and one of the best places that a child could grow up in.

 

     Even though I grew up in a run-down trailer, and was often excluded from social groups due to the condition of where I lived, I still felt that my home was the only “soul” that could understand me. I knew it was not the best place to live but I also knew that I really would not want to live anywhere else.

 

     The trailer, which sat plotted on five bare acres of land, was situated there long before my father stumbled upon it some 23 years ago. In the beginning, the aluminum sheets that acted as walls were painted white, with a brown trim all along its rectangular appearance. Behind it, the previous owners took some great care in adding a master bedroom and washer room. It was nothing like the extremely well built, cookie-cutter homes of Estrella Mountain Community, but to my parents it was an entire kingdom.

 

     As the years past, my father acted as the king he was, and started to add characteristics that proclaimed the kingdom as his own. His knick-knacks and repair jobs made the trailer belong to him; he was adding a piece of his soul to the home, adding warmth to the place. By his decoration and organization, it was as if he was adding an extra limb to the person that made him my father. This extra limb was another method of protection, and guidance. He formed another way that a parent could extend his love to his children.

The home was old when it was bought, so naturally, it began to decay far too quickly, or so it would seem to a child growing up there, and watching her surroundings transform. My memories of my home, all seem like a scene from a film. I am standing as a young girl in the 10 feet by 10 feet area we called a living room; watching the rest of my family run in and out of the house, their bodies all a blur, almost as if they are mere streaks of red, orange and blue lights, and yet I still see their shapes transform. The lights that represent my parents get wider and wider, and the images that represent my siblings, get taller and taller. Yet I stay the same, eyes as wide as saucers and fixed on my surroundings. The trailer, every detail that I remember about its appearance, last only a second as it changes to the next. Then I somehow float to the outside of my home, and see the numerous paint jobs that is goes through, the roof collapsing, and being rebuilt. The trees growing around it, grasping it, and scaring its walls with its arguments and then being defeated and dying. I am back inside and I see all the furniture that we went through, along with the fights, laughter and lazy moments with my family. Then, after all this, everything slows down, and time is frozen to the moment that I am 18 years old, and I am at the doorway of my trailer with a few bags of clothing and books. I am facing towards the outside, yet my head is turned over my left shoulder looking back at the extremely messy trailer that I have called home for so long. I see this image, as I am still a little girl, standing in my living room, no more than two feet away. Staring at myself, I wonder what I am thinking, “Why does she not leave that filthy place?” I ask myself. “What could possibly hold her to this pigsty, and disease filled area?”  I stare at her, waiting for her to leave, because I know she does at some point, but it seems as though there is a possibility that my memories were faltered and she does not. Eternity passed before she went.

 

     When I left Rainbow Valley, Arizona, I was happy, because I felt that I could finally get a chance to expand my horizons. Even though as a child I loved my home, by the time I was a teenager I was ashamed of it. I would never let my friends come over, and avoided them dropping me off at it whenever I could. I did not want anyone to see its ugly face, for the fear that they would judge me, as someone who was stupid and was not capable of caring for herself. It was not until a year passed, of living and experimenting life in opposite surrounding that I felt guilty for leaving my old friend behind without some sort of farewell. I guess homesickness finally hit me, and I realized that it was the best place to raise a child.

 

     The open surroundings, and how each neighbor was about an acre away gave the sense of security. I was surrounded by untouched terrain for the longest time, and that allowed me to explore nature on my own, and develop a strong appreciation for it. The fact that my home was always breaking down, also gave me independence. Because it showed me that you could do things, you do not have to rely on others all the time to get a job done. I am the person I am today because of where I grew up. I am independent, yet very family orientated. I am determined, and not materialistic. I like the simple things in life, and only want the simple things. I would recommend anyone who wants to start a family to live out the life I did, just maybe with a home that is not as run-down as mine is. I would love to promote people to live out in Rainbow Valley, but the fact that there was not a lot of people out there was a main reason why I loved it as my home. Arizona, and the small rural town was and always will be my home, and I encourage anyone to go out and find their home. It may not necessarily be in Arizona, but just in anywhere that you may be comfortable with, and have that sense that it can be apart of you. A safe haven for you and your family, that is what makes a person’s home  take a life of it’s own, and become the one part of you that you can always run to when in danger, and trust.

Arizona’s Rapid Development

    As the last contiguous state founded within the United States, due in part to a primarily inhospitable environment, Arizona has rapidly developed from its roots in mining, ranching and agriculture to become a rich commercial and economic settlement on par with the greatest cities in the country. How can such an environment be home to such a successful settlement? People worldwide have developed a fascination for Arizona’s traditions and lifestyle with the state luring in more tourists and residents each year. Native American drawings and artifacts of the Southwest, the famed Saguaro cactus and the open, rural lifestyle, now fading from the country’s existence, are just a few inviting Arizona trademarks. Additionally responsible for the state’s success is the empowerment derived from a well-educated population, as knowledge is instrumental for the successful expansion of any civilization. Glendale is one town in particular that displays these qualities. While characterized by a quaint, rustic atmosphere, Glendale has developed the energy and bustling economy of a big city, establishing a diversity that quickly puts its residents at home.

 

    Among the fastest growing cities in Arizona, Glendale has immensely diversified its economy, creating a distinction from most others in the state. Its expanding collection of industries includes manufacturing, services, aerospace, communications, metalworking and electronics. While this gives the appearance of a town losing touch with its small town feel, a careful counterbalance of residential communities, equally diversified, ensures the maintenance of such an atmosphere. To complement this small town feel are the four city blocks of downtown Glendale, formally known as Old Towne Glendale, which give the city its title as “Arizona’s Antique Capital.” Old Towne Glendale includes a shopping center comprised of 90 antique stores, specialty shops and cafés all of which encircle Murphy Park and its library, while the more contemporary Arrowhead Mall creates diversity even in shopping. Among the city’s other distinctive landmarks is Luke Air Force Base, employing over eight thousand workers and entailing an aggregated financial effect of two billion dollars annually on the surrounding community. Constructed in the early 1940’s and named in honor of the first pilot to receive the Medal of Honor, it is the largest jet fighting training base in the world. Furthermore, many of our state’s national sports teams train and compete in Glendale, among them the NHL’s Phoenix Coyotes and the Arizona Sting of the NLL. These teams find home in the Glendale Sports Arena while the Arizona Cardinals of the NFL will surely enjoy their newly erected Cardinal’s Stadium. Such variety woven throughout the city combined with its value of historic preservation is much of what makes Glendale unique.

 

    Every individual is empowered with the potential to benefit society, and adequate schooling is what releases that potential. This necessitates the availability of quality education to the public and cannot be unique to private institutions since so few can afford them. Education, being responsible for the city’s initial expansion and vital for Arizona’s future success, continually proves instrumental in the progress of every settlement from a local to national level. The numerous issues plaguing Arizona today range from air pollution and water depletion to overpopulation and crime, but only once equipped with sufficient knowledge can the state resolve these issues. The diverse economy that has grown to characterize Glendale can only be properly maintained with diversity in education. Among the more reputable educational institutes within the city are Glendale Community College, with the teaching staff and classes in high recommendation from my friends who attend; ASU West; Midwestern University, the first private health sciences school in the state; and Garvin School of International Management, being one of the best schools of its kind nationwide. With higher education seemingly within arms reach throughout the city, Glendale is well equipped to handle local and statewide matters.

 

    Like many Arizona cities, Glendale began as an agricultural community. Located one half mile north of 59th Avenue and Olive lies Sahuaro Ranch, a reminder of the town’s original open range lifestyle, which is now disappearing from the country. Established in 1886 by William H. Bartlett, the ranch comprised a 640-acre fruit farm complete with a central house and thirteen smaller buildings constructed for ranch hands, family and friends. While the buildings are well preserved and under frequent restoration, much of Sahuaro Ranch is now an open park comprised of volleyball courts, barbeques and ramadas. No more than three miles to the southeast rests Manistee Ranch, purchased by Louis M. Sands in the early 1900’s, it was one of the last working cattle ranches in the Valley. It, too, is well preserved. As Glendale progressed into its industrial era, factories and warehouses emerged; among these, the Sugar Beet Factory stands today as a key element to Glendale’s early economic success. Yet another of Glendale’s historic sights is its downtown area, bustling with shoppers and sightseers much as it did in its earliest days. Americans have always treasured the rural lifestyle with its ranches and endless rolling hills, and although increasingly elusive, that rustic lifestyle finds shelter in much of Arizona. At least some aspect of its preservation is vital, and historic sights such as Sahuaro Ranch and Manistee Ranch serve as reminders of what this country values. The historic sights of Glendale serve a purpose, and while they provide no immediate pragmatism, they remind us of what the city once was, what it represents, and how it evolved into its current state. They appeal to our sentiment, and doing so puts them at equal value against any Home Depot or Super Wal-Mart.

 

    Although born and raised in Phoenix, I consider Glendale my hometown; having lived there since high school the city comprises most of my fondest memories. Only in Glendale did I fully utilize the city’s attractions. Several dates were spent strolling through the downtown area and generally concluded with ice cream while sitting at a bench in Murphy Park. This park was also a frequent leisure scene for my friend, his girlfriend and me on Friday nights. Immediately south across the street was the only music venue/café I knew to be open so late at night, often until 4 a.m. However, near Christmas time once the Glendale Glitters festival was underway, Murphy Park became the ideal locale for a night out with friends, family, or a date. If we were in a more vibrant mood, Sahuaro Ranch Park with its fields, barbeque grills and volleyball courts was a minute’s drive north. Several years ago, the park was also host to my cousin’s wedding and reception. Further west, I would frequent the Glendale Sports Arena for lacrosse and hockey games anticipating the next fight certain to break out. Most memorable to me, however, was the fireworks display every evening on the Fourth of July presented by Glendale Community College. My family and friends would gather at our house for food and a few games of Pictionary; then, a mere mile from campus, we would climb onto the roof and enjoy the show. Having grown up in such an accommodative city, I value the last years of my childhood understanding that Glendale will always be home regardless of where else I go in life.

A Growing City

    Glendale is my hometown. It is where I spent my glorious youth and where I grew up. In my grandparents’ neighborhood, I would go trick or treating and would sit and watch the colorful fireworks of July. This place and its people have always been a constant in my ever-changing life. It is where I feel the safest. Only here in Glendale did my grandfather have his barber salon.

 

    I remember spending the day with my grandfather; I would sit in the back room while customers would come in and out. All the while when I peeked my head in to see him, his customers would ask, “Al, is that your grandson?” My grandfather would lovingly reply, “Yes, that is my grandson, Vincent.” My grandfather soon grew ill and these wonderful days soon ended. He had to give up his beloved shop and his profession.

 

    There were other places here in Glendale that has such peaceful memories. There is a Denny’s nearby my grandfathers’ house. I can remember all the dinners where all of my family was in attendance. My grandmother loved their pancakes. I can even remember one instance at this restaurant in which I snuck up and surprised my grandparents when we needed to find them and get the key to our house. I was so close to them and they didn’t see. They didn’t see until I made my presence noticed.

 

    Glendale is the town to which I grew from a small child to an adult. This is the place where I would run to catch the bus and ride to the elementary school. It was here when I began the long journey to the University. I grew up with all these people. This is the city where I had my first crush. This is where I saw the difference between good people and the indifference of others. A former neighbor, Pat, used to give me a lift to the high school. Her daughter and I grew up together. As long as I can remember, she had spent the same amount of time as we did. Glendale is the salvation of the harsh world of school and youth. Whenever, I had problems with people and bullying me, I always knew that this place would never turn me away.

 

    This place inspired me to become an engineer. This place gave me the opportunity to study under some of the most caring teachers that any state could offer.

 

    Even now, as a university student far from home in Tucson, I long for my return to my home, to my friends and family. I will never forget my humble beginnings here in Glendale. While the city changes as well as the people, my memories of long ago remind me that this will always be a part of who I am. It will always be safe and it will always be mine.

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