Arizona's comeback kid Jerome - towns

Sunset, Nov, 2001 by Nora Burba Trulsson

With cozy inns, galleries, and an amazing history this former copper boomtown is standing tall again

* Christine Barag leads us up the steep concrete stairs between the twisting streets of Jerome, pausing to point out sights such as the infamous "sliding jail," a 1920s concrete cell house that slipped downhill--its fall a testimony to the unstable if profitable geology underlying this central Arizona town.

Barag, a member of the local historical society who leads regular walking tours, is third-generation Jerome: Both a grandfather and a great-grandfather of hers worked the copper mines that once fueled the area's economy. Now her connection to Jerome has come full circle: Barag tells us that after living elsewhere, she has come back--to stay.

Jerome has also come back to stay. Once known as the billion-dollar copper camp, it boasted 15,000 residents at its peak in the 1920s. By the 1950s, it was so depopulated that it found new fame as the world's biggest ghost town. But in the last 30 years, the town has undergone a second boom, becoming a magnet for artists--and for visitors who come to browse the shops and galleries and to learn about the town's indelibly colorful past.

A town rises on Cleopatra Hill

Prospectors staked claims in the vicinity in the 1870s. A shantytown began to spring up on Cleopatra Hill, taking the name of New Yorker Eugene Jerome (a cousin of Winston Churchill's mother), who had put up the money for some of the first mining claims. Word spread of the vast deposits of copper ore, and miners flocked to the high desert, bringing with them such support services as saloons and bordellos.

It was no Garden of Eden. Residents got used to the sound of underground blasting as the earth beneath Jerome was swiss-cheesed with 88 miles of tunnels. An in-town smelter belched acid fumes. By the late 1890s, Jerome's tent homes and rickety wooden structures had burned down three times.

At that point, town fathers decided that when Jerome was rebuilt again, it would be with sturdy brick buildings and that civilized diversions would be encouraged. Churches and an opera house pushed aside houses of ill repute. Jerome gained a more gracious appearance and a more wholesome atmosphere.

The town's prosperity wavered with the Great Depression, then returned with the onset of World War II and the increased demand for copper. But, after the war, Jerome's mining operations ceased. Miners transferred to other towns, and equipment was dismantled. By the late 1950s, fewer than 100 hardy souls remained. Christine Barag's grandmother sold her home for $50; others did the same or traded theirs to settle unpaid grocery bills.

A counterculture revival

Even Jerome's official history acknowledges that it was counterculturists who saved the town from being populated entirely by spirits. In the 1960s, real estate and rents here were dirt cheap. The new wave of residents--artists and back-to-the-earthers--began opening cafes and galleries, and renovating old buildings. In 1966, Jerome was declared a National Historic Landmark. In recent years, the town's population has hovered around 470 residents.

Visitors today are likely to be day-tippers, snaking their way up the hill from the Verde Valley A fine start is at Jerome State Historic Park. In 1916, mining baron James "Rawhide" Douglas built this adobe-block home high on a ridge so he could look down on his Little Daisy Mine; the 360[degrees] views of Jerome and the Verde Valley are still impressive. Inside, historic photographs tell the Douglas family story. There's also a 3-D model of the vast tunnel system that extends beneath the town--it makes you wonder why more buildings haven't slid down the hill.

Along Main Street and other downtown avenues, shops offer everything from locally made raku pottery to fudge. Down one alleyway, you can see the old crib district, where women of ill repute plied their trade.

The wild-and-woolly aspects of Jerome's history, not to mention the scenic ride into town, have for decades attracted motorcyclists, who come to listen to bands at the Spirit Room bar or to play pool at Paul & Jerry's Saloon, which has been in the same family since 1939. In the 1960s and early '70s, the biker scene might have been straight out of Easy Rider. These days, think On Golden Pond.

Like those visitors, Jerome has also matured in recent years. You can spend the night in one of a handful of cozy B&Bs and hotels. Restaurants no longer lock their doors at sunset. Besides beer, you can get a decent glass of wine or an espresso.

"My family was in Jerome for the boom and stayed through the bust," says Christine Barag as she finishes her tour. Now, she believes, her role is to be part of the town's revival.

Before turning in at our B&B, we have dinner with a view. We toast the town's up-and-down past and its increasingly promising future. Like Christine Barag, we decide that we'll come back to Jerome too--if not to stay, at least to visit, again and again.

Jerome travel planner

Jerome is about 110 miles north of Phoenix via Interstate 17, State 260, and U.S. 89A. In November, expect sunny days but brisk nights; at more than 5,000 feet in elevation, Jerome occasionally gets snow. For more local information, contact the Jerome Chamber of Commerce (928/634-2900 or www. jeromechamber.com).