The ghosts and the goblins have knocked on the door, filled their bags with candy and returned home where they are transformed back into Flagstaff boys and girls. But the real ghosts will continue to haunt the historic buildings in Flagstaff.  This year, for the first time, our Visitor’s Center offered Haunted Tours of Flagstaff and demand has been heavy.  This is the time of year when many towns brush off their lore and their legends for a bit of scary fun and Flagstaff is no exception.

I’m a member of the Flagstaff Exchange Club. At today’s meeting, James Hardy, Flagstaff’s Haunting Expert, was the speaker.  Now Flagstaff isn’t old by most standards.  Philadelphia, Boston, Chicago and other cities in the country have a history that goes back several hundred years while Flagstaff didn’t become a city until the late 1800’s.  But, nevertheless, we have our share of stories that can make chills run up and down your back. 

I’m not going to spoil Hardy’s fun if you decide to take advantage of next year’s Haunted Tours, which I highly recommend but I’ll entice you with a few highlights.  Our current train station, located on Route 66, wasn’t built until 1926 but there are tales of cold and errie feelings, conversations and shadows that disappear when the door is opened.  There is even  a fantom conductor who runs up the stairs from the basement to catch his train.

The current library was built on the site of Emerson School, a large 2-story brick building that served Flagstaff’s early school children.  Built in 1896, it was torn down to make way for a new library building.  Stories of a shadowy figure who was a custodian at the school, who killed his family then went to the school and killed himself, are told.  The former library building, originally a home for one of the Babbitt families and now the home of Flagstaff Theatrikos, has three resident ghosts.  One is a kindly-looking old lady who occasionally visits during a period production and then disappears.  She doesn’t seem to enjoy those modern plays.

And then there’s the Weatherford Hotel and the Monte Vista  Hotel with strange visitors and spirits that make noises, move things around, ring the lobby telephone and knock things over. 

If you happen to be a believer in the spirit world, the ancient ones who lived here thousands of years ago and disappeared can be felt at sites where they once lived and hunted.  A visit to Wupatki or Walnut Canyon can give you the same eerie feelings that I’ve felt when standing over the site where the USS Arizona was sunk at Pearl Harbor or when visiting a Civil War battlefield. 

Tales and legends can be fun to hear about and to tell on a tour of town or around a campfire.  But I feel that the real haunts are our feelings and emotions as we relive in our minds the scenes of another time and another place.

This Flagstaff woman with an Italian husband discovered that she could learn a lot about Italian cooking recently.  As a result of a donation to KNAU, our local public broadcasting radio station, I was given a free cooking class at a new locally-owned business, The Seasoned Kitchen,  located in the Old Post Office Building in downtwon  Flagstaff . 

The class was “Pesto and Homemade Noodles.”  I know how to make that, I told myself.  But since it was free, I went anyway.  When I arrived, I was greeted by the other class members and the instructor - Shawn.  I never did learn his last name but know that he is the manager of the Monte Vista Hotel, another Flagstaff historic tradition.  I was offered a glass of wine (very good wine, the way) and Shawn began the class.

I learned that Pesto is easy to make but the ingredients are expensive.  It’s a traditional Italian sauce that is served not only over noodles but also over a variety of other dishes–including freshly grilled salmon.  It can even be used on bread as an appetizer.  The basic recipe is fresh basil (no parsley please!), pine nuts (toasted for added flavor — but watch them or they can burn), good quality freshly-grated parmesan and romano cheeses, and virgin olive oil — all mixed together in a blender. 

The homemade noodles that Shawn created were equally simple but required a pasta noodle machine.  My Italian mother-in-law made them by hand but that was a big job.  Shawn made them look easy.  I had a noodle machine at one time but could never produce decent noodles.  The trick that I learned from him was that you have to run the dough through the kneading part of the machine many times until you have a long thin strip that is then run through the cutters.  The fresh noodles are then dropped into boiling water until they float to the top–which is only a matter of a few minutes as opposed to 10-15 minutes required for cooking dry noodles from the grocery store.

Accompanied by another glass of wine, fresh noodles with pesto sauce and a heavy sprinkling of more freshly-grated parmesan and romano cheese was truly a gourmet dinner.  This free class was a delightful learning experience and an introduction to another new locally-owned business. My thanks go to
Shawn and “The Seasoned Kitchen.”

Although I’ve been a part of the national gif basket industry for over 15 years, I am occasionally surprised when something a little bit different takes hold and demand mushrooms.

This year, it has been Wine Glace.  I discovered it at a trade show a couple years ago, tasted it and liked it.  I thought that perhaps my customers would as well.  It’s not cheap but it’s good and it has grown to be one of my best-selling gourmet products.  It’s not unusual to ship ten or more of them at a time to customers who use them as gifts and surprise thank-yous.

What is this Wine Glace, you may be asking.  It’s a mixture that comes in a wine themed gift bag and when mixed with wine and ice in a blender, can best be described as sort of like a margarita.  But it’s not a margarita.  It’s a wine-a-rita and the wine you use determines the flavor.  For those who prefer to be alcohol free, it can be mixed with grape juice as well. 

Just another discovery of a Flagstaff woman.

I read in today’s Arizona Daily Sun the sad news that another locally-owned Flagstaff business, Emily’s Furniture, is closing its retail store and will be operating its business only via the internet.  It’s sad because it’s happening more and more frequently.  A number of locally-owned Flagstaff businesses, including my own, have found that the internet is the only cost-effective way to remain in business.  The only party store in Flagstaff, Confetti’s, has already announced that they will be closing their large retail storefront in the Safeway-Walgreen’s shopping center in East Flagstaff and will be offering a more limited inventory on their website, www.partysupplies4less.com, and through a much smaller  local office space.

When I first moved to Flagstaff in 1979, the downtown area was still a viable shopping area for local residents.  There were strip malls being built in other parts of town including the K-Mart shopping center and Bayless shopping center in East Flagstaff and the brand new University shopping center in West Flagstaff.  Santa Fe Avenue (which has since lost its name and has been identified merely as Route 66) and Milton Road were the site of  stores, motels, and restaurants.

But the downtown area still housed shoe stores, jewelry stores, book stores, clothing stores and restaurants  frequented regularly by local shoppers.  Babbitt’s Department Store was the “big store” then and was known statewide as one of the best department stores in the state.  This was a time when the owners knew their best customers by name and customer service was a priority.  Moving from rural California, even I was amazed at how friendly the clerks were in the Bayless grocery store.

But the building of the Flagstaff Mall and influx of large corporate-owned “big box type stores” signaled the end of shopping and living in Flagstaff as we once knew it.  There are those — including the Chamber of Commerce and City Fathers — who tell us that this transition is essential to Flagstaff’s economy and survival.  But they don’t mention the trade-offs involved as the town has slowly transitioned from a unique community to a generic one.

For those of us who have lived here long enough to see the transition and who care about the quality of life in this place we call home, the view of the Chamber and the City Fathers is one of those things that becomes a muddy gray when you mix black and white. 

Downtown Flagstaff is no longer a place for locals to shop but is a tourist destination as they travel through town on their way to other cities that look much the same.  This transition of the downtown area has a history as well.  Parking has always been a problem in downtown Flagstaff, and as the town grew, parking problems grew as well.  This signaled a definite need for outlying shopping areas with large paved parking lots.  They came.  They met the need and the downtown area slowly deteriorated until the City began a downtown revitalization project.  Instead of more street parking, the project removed parking spaces and provided less.  Increasing rents and lack of parking forced the businesses that depended on local customers to either move to these outlying shopping areas or, what happened more frequently, to close their doors.  They have gradually been replaced by “boutique type shops”, “tourist souvenier stores”, and bars.  Lots and lots of bars.  The transition is now complete as just another tourist stopping point on their way to somewhere else.

Even the Flagstaff Mall was once filled with unique locally-owned stores but that too has changed.  It, too, has transitioned from a local mall to a generic one.  You can walk through the mall now and feel as if you are visiting a mall in any other city in any other state.  We’ve been told that tourists, snow birds, and weekend visitors from Phoenix, like the familiar while trying to get away from it.  If so, they now have it.

Unfortunately, there is no answer.  The transition has been made and will continue until it is complete as more and more of the small independent businesses, located in Flagstaff, either close their doors or make their own transition to becoming an internet business.  The very things that made Flagstaff unique — Route 66, the railroad, the small mountain university and even the mountain — are transitioning as well.  The university is overpowering the historic brick buildings and the feel of a small mountain university with a massive, ugly convention center.  The Route 66, that has attracted people from across the globe, is transitioning into just another generic street through town.  Global warming has resulted in less snow, dying ponderosas, and less vivid leaves in the fall. 

I’m not suggesting that we go back to the “old days”.  Of course that would be impossible and would involve trade-offs as well.  Growth can’t be stopped and I’m not sure that we would want to.  But I am sad to see the changes wrought by the transition from a uniquely different Flagstaff to a generic one.  And I am sad to see those businesses–where you could find products that weren’t available at every other store–fade away.

My primary business is gift baskets and gourmet gift baskets are our biggest seller throughout the year.  So I wasn’t real surprised when I read in the November issue of Specialty Food Magazine that 73% of all consumers purchase specialty foods.  But I did wonder how most people could afford or would want to buy speciality foods on a regular basis.  As I continued to read the article and saw the list of “specialty foods”, it began to make sense. 

Those of us in the gift basket industry are constantly on the lookout for the new, the unique, the different–the kinds of foods that you can’t find in your local mall or grocery store– for our gift baskets.  We go to the Fancy Food Show and other trade shows and are shown the newest things for the season.  When we think of specialty foods, we think smoked salmon, basil tomato cheese, cranberry smoked sausage, gogi oatmeal cookies, wine wafers, etc.

But according to Specialty Food Magazine, and this has proven to be true with my own customers here in Flagstaff as well as nationwide, they don’t want the “weird kinds of foods that taste funny and are unfamiliar.”  To most folks, comfort foods are familiar foods–but they don’t have to be the grocery store variety either.

The list created as a result of a nationwide survey by Specialty Food Magazine includes:
Cold beverages (specialty water, tea, soda or others)
Coffee/tea
Chocolate
Cheese
Olive oil
Crackers
    …and so forth.  With the exception of the olive oil, these are our biggest sellers and the most requested in our gourmet gift baskets.  The article continued to explain that they considered specialty foods to be  ‘foods of premium quality, that are often made by small or local manufacturers or have exotic ethnic flavors — foods that are unique.”  And this is exactly what we at Creative Gifts To Go search for when we attend the trade shows.

And then there are those who just want the junk foods that they buy at the grocery stores–the cans of Coke, the bags of chips, M&M cookies, and candy bars.  Our college students, that are lonely and want to be reminded of home, are a great example of this group of folks.  And, yes, we provide those as well.  Our junk food baskets are near the top of the popularity scale for many.

So whether it’s junk foods or specialty gourmet foods, we never try to force our tastes on our customers.  We offer both and trust you to choose what is considered to be “comfort foods” by those you are sending the gift basket to.

 It was a place to stop and stretch your legs while on the way to the Grand Canyon, California, Chicago, or some other faraway place. You could have a cup of coffee at Miz Zips or another local diner, fill your tank with gas, or even spend the night in one of the seemingly endless supply of motels arranged like dominos along the main route through town. If you limited your vision to Route 66, with motels, eateries, gas stations, and bars lining one side of the road while the other side featured billboards and the train tracks, Flagstaff wasn’t a very exciting place to be. It was nothing more than a wayside stop on the way to someplace else.

But a special magic was awaiting those who could expand their vision and linger long enough to leave the deceiving main street and discover the real beauty of the area. These were the people who were enticed to return again and again. These were the people who deserted long commutes and good-paying jobs in smog-clogged cities to experience a different style of living. They discovered the town’s potential as well as its limitations. They were the people who have made Flagstaff the city it is today.

Flagstaff is not an old town. In history’s grand perspective, it dates only to yesterday. Born of a railroad in the late 1800’s, it is still tied to one. Before the railroad came, this was just another pine-covered wilderness generously endowed with trees, bears, deer and elk. The railroad created the town but a group of travelers provided the name.

The men who came first were not builders of a city. They were simple sheep herders in search of water for their flocks during one of California’s severe droughts. Finding water, they built a cabin near one of the springs in the area. The year was 1876, our country’s 100th birthday. Travelers arrived, on their way to somewhere else and were invited to stop and rest. Deciding to stay and celebrate the 4th of July, they stripped a tall pine tree of its branches and ran up the American flag. Once the holiday was over, the flag came down and the immigrants left, but the bare flagpole remained.

In 1882 the railroad, inching its way across the country, arrived along with its workers, hangers-on, and those who made their living providing supplies and services. A sawmill was built to supply the railroad with wooden ties. The place needed a name and someone suggested Flagpole. Someone else said, “Flagstaff sounds better.” They agreed and Flagstaff was born.

The city continued to grow and diversity. Today its citizens feel it’s got just about everything larger cities have– including franchise businesses, the big-box stores, and traffic jams. The city’s backbone is still the Burlington Santa Fe Railroad, which separates the town into north and south. The lumber mill, once one of the primary employers, no longer exists. But Flagstaff still retains that elusive magic which entices the visitor to linger for a day, a week, or even a lifetime.

Nestled at the base of the age-old San Francisco Peaks and surrounded by the world’s largest Ponderosa pine forest, the state’s third largest city provides a striking contrast to the cactus-clad desert that makes up much of the state.

Flagstaff is essentially a take-your-time kind of town. For those who have the vision to leave the main street of town and discover its uniqueness, it becomes an adventure–a lesson in serendipity–full of variety and hidden treasures. Perhaps the best advice I can give you is to not try to see and do too much at once. Scenery abounds. Activities await. The town itself invites you to linger. Wherever you go, you’ll see residents enjoying the city as much as you do. The numerous surrounding national parks and scenic spectaculars will make any visit memorable. But to develop a real appreciation for the area, you should take the time to meander along the backroads, hike the trails, smell the wildflowers, and just simply relax in isolated meadows where the quietness can almost be heard.

When you leave, you’ll take a bit of that magic along with you. Wherever you go, the experiences, the memories, and the pictures etched in your mind will make Flagstaff a permanent part of you. But, if you happen to be one of those lucky ones who return to stay, leave the big city and all its problems behind you. Enjoy the blessings of living this close to heaven and always remains a tourist at heart.

Situtated in the middle of a pine forest, a town like Flagstaff is bound to have lots of wildlife.  Elk and deer roam freely.  An occasional mountain lion is scared away from someone’s back yard and the coyote enjoys a chicken out of someone’s coop every now and again.  Racoons steal the dog’s food and have been known to sneak in through an open doggie door.  And last summer, a porcupine decided to stake his claim to the oak in my back yard.

But the wild animals that I enjoy the most are those that frequent my back yard.  This little guy is  a hard worker.  He lives in our wood pile and ventures out to sun himself on a warm day, to eat, but most often to fill his pouch with seeds and acrorns before scurrying off to add them to his winter stockpile.  I call him a “he” but he could be “she” just as well.  It’s a ground squirrel.  He’s not much to look at when you compare him with the sleek beauty of the tree squirrels with their long bushy tails but his work ethics would put most of us to shame.   As the acorns fall from the big oaks, he becomes a vacuum cleaner, sucking them into his cheeks until they look like they could burst.  When it looks like he can hold no more, he runs off to his larder and quickly returns for more. 

A couple summers ago was “the summer of the fox.”  One evening in early June while Ron and I were getting our exercise walking on top of the mesa in the center of town, we heard an unusual bark.  On the edge of the mesa sat a grey fox, watching us from his perch on a rock.  After a few barks at us, he disappeared over the side of the hill.  The next evening he was back.  It got to be a regular occurance and we looked forward to seeing this newfound animal friend who seemed to be waiting for us…until one day he wasn’t there.  We’ve never seen him again and have often wondered if his friendly nature was his downfall.  It’s funny how attached you can become to an animal that you can never even get close to.

When we drove through Flagstaff years ago and talked with some folks in the local Forest Service office about transferring here, we were told:  “You wouldn’t want to live here.  It’s windy all the time.”  After ignoring that comment and making the move anyway, we’ve discovered that part of it is true.  Flagstaff is a windy town–just not all the time. 

Today is one of those times.  I’m sitting here with the woodstove burning, the sun shining, and the wind blowing.  It’s a typical Flagstaff autumn day. The leaves, that were so beautiful just like week, are littering the ground, ready to be raked.  Yes, it’s windy in Flagstaff but that’s a part of what Flagstaff is.

Last weekend, I was in the forest with my daughter’s family–enjoying the aspen at the height of their glory and having a family picnic. 

This has been an annual event since we’ve lived here, but I noticed a difference in the aspens this year.  The colors are not as bright and there are whole groves of aspen trees that are dead.  I read in the paper this morning that Vermont is experiencing the same situation with the colors of their fall leaves.  It is suspected that it is a result of global warming.  The cold nights–which produce the gorgeous fall colors–just aren’t as cold anymore.  I’ve found that to be true here in Flagstaff.  When we first moved here, we would be burning the woodstove by early October.  This year, we’ve lit it just a few times. 

What could be causing the death of the groves of aspen throughout the forest.  Normally aspens sprout and grow as a result of a forest fire and continue to grow until the pines,  that have filled in, build a canopy overhead once again smothering out the light.  But that isn’t the case here.  There are no large pines in these groves.  So perhaps these moisture-loving trees are a fatality of the drought.

What will the future bring to our forests?  Drought. Global warming.  Massive forest fires.  We’ve seen all of these during the past few years. The future doesn’t look promising. 

I’m Joyce, a.k.a Mom, Grandma, small business owner, and,  a Flagstaff woman.  Welcome to my world!

In case you’ve never heard of us and  didn’t see Forrest Gump when he stepped on a pile and invented the word s*** while running on a Flagstaff downtown street, we’re near the top of the state of Arizona.  Not all the way north to the Grand Canyon, but when you reach Flagstaff, you’re almost there. 

No, we’re not desert and we don’t see summer temps hoovering in the 100’s. Located at 7200 foot altitude, Flagstaff is in the middle of the world’s largest ponderosa pine forest (and unfortunately in the middle of a long drought), has snow in the winter and has the clearest blue sky you’ll see in a long time. 

In most ways, a Flagstaff woman isn’t a whole lot different than a New York woman, a Boise woman, or a woman from anywhere else in the U.S.  Very few of us were born here.  Most came from somewhere else.  We’ve all  experienced dreams, goals, heartaches, and successes just like the rest of you. 

Most of us own one or more of those creatures that produced the pile in the middle of the the downtown street that was squashed under Forrest Gump’s tennis shoes.  Mine is a Westie named Wooster.  He was named after the quirky character Wooster in the British sit-com “Jeeves and Wooster”.  I should have named him Jeeves as he’s the dumbest dog on earth, but he’s my dog and I love him.

Dogs are an important part of life in Flagstaff and are a great way to get into a conversation with a stranger that you meet while out walking.  And, yes, walking is an important part of Flagstaff life.  With all the great trails and Forest paths surrounding our town, an evening walk with your dog is a regular event. 

In case you’re thinking I love dogs more than kids, there’s also two of those (both grown and married), four grand-kids, and a great husband.

Very few Flagstaff residents my age were born here.  Most came from somewhere else, liked it, stayed and became a part of it.  I’m no exception.  I arrived in Flagstaff in a round-about way, starting life in the deep South.  Growing up in the navy town of Pensacola, Florida, I was destinated to meet and marry a sailor (much to my Daddy’s horror!)  I’ll have to tell you about the meeting with Ron, my sailor sweetheart that I’ve grown old with,  in a later post. 

Marriage, a few months living in Washington DC, and then travelling all the way across country to his hometown in Santa Cruz, California took us through Flagstaff.  When I first spotted that snow-capped mountain, known as the San Francisco Peaks, through one of the observation windows at Walnut Canyon, I fell in love and dreamed of returning.  You can read more about that trip at route 66 memories.

After college and living in numerous Forest Service communities in California, Flagstaff became our home.  That was over 25 years ago and the evolution of a southern belle into a Flagstaff woman is still in the process. 

You’re invited to explore the discoveries of a Flagstaff woman with me as I write about this evolution.  I’ll share experiences, events, and even some photos of this gorgeous part of the country — just to make the rest of you jealous.  I welcome you to share your experiences and comments with me as a part of this blog.  And email me at shopcreativegifts@yahoo.com