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| (c) 2017 MJ Miller |
In the southeastern part of Arizona, nestled in the Aravaipa Valley and boasting spectacular views of the mountains, is a tiny townsite appropriately called "Bonita." Dad used to tell me I should visit Bonita - Spanish for "pretty" - because of the area's rich history. It took me a few years (decades, actually) but at last I made my way there this week.
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| (c) 2017 MJ Miller |
We took the Klondyke Road from the highway that crosses the San Carlos Indian Reservation, continuing to Thatcher first to fuel up. The boulders and tors on the roadsides made for the type of scenery early movie directors sought for their westerns. In this corner of the state, the real life western action actually happened: cavalry battles, gunfights, stagecoach robberies, manhunts.
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| (c) 2017 MJ Miller |
Klondyke itself certainly has an element of western romance. Miners, fresh from the Alaskan gold rush, named the town in honor of their northerly pursuits. Not much remains of the town. Though it yielded little gold for its hopeful settlers, in the early 1900s it provided jobs for about 500 men in the molybdenum, lead, silver, and copper mines in the area. When the mines closed, the town closed too.
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| (c) 2017 MJ Miller |
Ranches still operate in the area, but from the looks of the empty Klondyke School grounds, the children no longer study in the one-room schoolhouse. Curious cattle graze behind the school.
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| (c) 2017 MJ Miller |
Either the dusty road was once surprisingly busy or someone from the Department of Transportation had a sense of humor.
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(c) 2017 MJ Miller
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Leaving Klondyke, as so many others did a hundred years before us, we headed southeast toward Bonita.
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(c) 2017 MJ Miller
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Before reaching the actual town of Bonita, we stopped at Bonita Cemetery, the last stop for local ranchers and cowboys.
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| (c) 2017 MJ Miller |
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| (c) 2017 MJ Miller |
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| (c) 2017 MJ MIller |
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| (c) 2017 MJ Miller |
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| (c) 2017 MJ Miller |
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| (c) 2017 MJ Miller |
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| (c) 2017 MJ Miller |
In one corner of the cemetery is the un-named gravesite of a child. Family members have fenced in the plot and added heartbreaking mementos and personal effects.
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| (c) 2017 MJ Miller |
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| (c) 2017 MJ Miller |
The three empty swings swayed with the breeze, the bench behind them seemingly holding a ghost watch over the unseen children.
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| (c) 2017 MJ Miller |
Meticulously tidy, lovingly maintained yet still part of the terrain, Bonita Cemetery has mountain views to die for. A person could do worse than end up in this quiet, lovely place.
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| (c) 2017 MJ Miller |
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| (c) 2017 MJ Miller |
Bonita is but a few miles from Fort Grant, once a cavalry outpost. Soldiers from the post frequented the watering holes at Bonita to blow off steam. Billy the Kid earned the first notch in his gun there when, in 1877, he killed a veteran of Fort Grant, a blacksmith from Ireland by the name of Francis Cahill. Local lore puts the scene of the killing behind the Bonita Store. After killing Cahill (who was known as "Windy" for his blowhard character), the Kid - then going by "Austin Antrim" - walked over to the Hotel de Luna and ordered a meal. The owner, Justice of the Peace Miles Wood, took Billy into custody at gunpoint and turned him over to officials at Fort Grant.
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| (c) 2017 MJ Miller |
Billy, he of the infamously thin wrists and hands, slipped his handcuffs and escaped from Fort Grant. It was his slender physique and "dandy" city clothes that caused the unfortunate Windy Cahill to mock him and bully him, ultimately leading to Cahill's death. Before succumbing, Cahill said he'd called Billy a "pimp" and when Billy retorted with a profanity, Cahill pinned him down and began beating him. Billy was able to get to his gun and end the struggle. Cahill was buried at the Klondyke Cemetery.
Ironically, the former Fort Grant is now a correctional facility for juvenile offenders. The Hotel de Luna is no longer standing. The Bonita store, also once owned by Billy's captor Miles Wood, hadn't seen the last of its youthful escapees though - nor killings. In 1964, Miles Wood's grandson James DuBois killed a new business partner at the site in a case of mistaken identity. DuBois's wife Dottie found that a sixteen-year-old escapee from Fort Grant "industrial school" had locked their teenage daughter in one of the buildings and was attempting to coerce their other daughter to give him car keys. Dottie screamed for help and as her husband grabbed a gun and ran to her aid, his partner - Ernest Doyal - approached. In the confusion, DuBois shot Doyal, who died about fifteen minutes later.
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| (c) 2017 MJ Miller |
Fenced and vacant, the Bonita Store bears no bronzed plaque to remind the occasional traveler of its fascinating history. The DuBois family no longer greets customers nor proudly shares the site's tales. There are no more area "hog ranches" - the pseudonym Fort Grant's soldiers used for brothels - where once there were several. The once-raucous Bonita is quiet, now.
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| (c) 2017 MJ Miller |
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