Arizona ghost towns are perhaps the most celebrated of all, especially in old western movies. I’ve been hooked ever since I saw my first tumbleweed blowing through a deserted main street, always passing in front of an empty saloon. There’s just something ominous about the sound of whistling wind and rolling tumbleweeds on the big screen.
Sasco, Arizona, has its share of tumbleweeds these days. At one time, a thriving town in conjunction with a large smelter operation, designed to process the silver ore from Silver Bell Mine, both places are now reduced to a few crumbling structures sprayed with graffiti. The former town is located 35 miles northwest of Tucson.
Someone named Mina mailed a postcard with a picture of the Sasco smelter to Mr. A.Z. Bradley in January of 1911. The forwarding address says, A.Z. Bradley. Box 276. San Dimas, Cal. The correspondence was short and inquisitive:
“Dear Az, How are you. Haven’t heard from you for about two weeks. I began to feel uneasy. Thought maybe you were sick. We are well. Have had some awful cold days but it is warmer now. We are still at Arrell’s. Now write soon. Mina”
The front of this postcard shows a picture of the large silver ore smelter with nomenclature underneath saying: “Sasco Smelter seen from Red Rock, AZ.” Smoke can be seen billowing from six smokestacks. Sasco is an acronym for the Southern Arizona Smelting Company. Sasco was basically a company town with a few stores and a saloon. Red Rock was a short distance away.
The place came to life around 1906, but by 1921, it was deserted. Sadly, the Spanish flu swept through the area in 1918 and 1919, with many people dying. Sasco Cemetery is said to be filled with folks who succumbed to this terrible disease. Ruins of the Hotel Rockland are still visible.
Finding out who Mina and A.Z. Bradley were was quite simple. Both Alfred Z. Bradley and Mina Ellen Honeyman were born in Kansas. The couple married in Payne County, Oklahoma, on December 19, 1900, living in this area for a short time before moving to San Dimas, California. There, they owned a ranch and farm where they had a small dairy, grew cotton, nuts, fruit, and other crops.
The Bradleys had one daughter, Lena. Mina died in 1954, while A.Z. outlived his wife, passing away in 1968. They’re both buried at Hillcrest Cemetery in Porterville, California.
The mystique of this Arizona ghost town postcard lay in where it was mailed. The cancelled postmark contained only three letters that I could make out: G, N, and E. There were gaps between each. I searched for hours through Arizona towns and cities, including those from California, Nevada, and Kansas, finding nothing.
Turning to my AI helpmate for assistance, “Miss Purdy” had things figured out in seconds. Glencoe in Oklahoma fits like a golfing glove, with the farming town located in Payne County, Oklahoma, where the Bradleys were married. They still had family there, and Mina was undoubtedly visiting them.
Ironically, I typed in Glencoe, Oklahoma, and another postcard popped up with the complete Glencoe, Oklahoma, postmark, sent to Mrs. Mina Bradley in San Dimas in 1908, from her brother, Brad Arrell.
I found my research interesting for a couple of reasons. I love Arizona ghost towns, and we have a well-known Bradley family living right here in Lake Havasu City. It makes me wonder if perhaps the two families aren’t related. That research, I’ll leave for someone else to perform.
I like to write junk... 