Jerome, my kind of town.

 

While Sedona didn’t do anything for me, I loved the little mining town of Jerome.

Stuck up high on the side of a mountain just outside of Cottonwood, AZ; it is loaded with the remains of his historic past.

Headframe of the Audrey shaft. 

Imagine a shaft about six feet square and 1900 feet deep.  There were mirrors that reflected light down the shaft.  It gave you a creepy feeling just standing above it.

Old buildings and mining relics were everywhere.

Local theater, and old 35 mm carbon arc projector. Helped run one of those projectors way back in the day.  You had to mindful of the bell, and its rhythm.

There was an water powered electrical plant that was in service until 2004. The water powered turbine.

And, the generator.

I’ll bet you can’t purchase one of these at the local hardware store.

Every storefront had a story to tell.

The English Kitchen was owned by a Chinese lady.

The economy was one of tokens, rather than cash.

Old tin ceilings, and artifacts from the past. I could spend all day just poking around all the “stuff”.

The town boomed, died, and is enjoying a nice reincarnation.  Sure, it wants the tourist dollar, but it has something to offer for nothing, if one only looks around.

My kind of place….jc