10 Pleasant Surprises in Phoenix

I recently visited the area of Phoenix, Arizona for the first time since becoming an adult. Recently my daughter completed a mission for our church near the area of Scottsdale. She would be our guide. I didn't plan much (unlike usual), which led to many unexpected experiences. Here's a list of ten pleasant surprises we encountered. 

Mural in Downtown Phoenix.

1. Downtown Phoenix. We parked near Roosevelt and Second Street with the intention of perusing the Arts District. The place was busier than normal with a long line of people waiting to enter some sort of cannabis convention. That wasn't our thing so we continued walking and ended up in the center of town near Chase Field (home to the Arizona Diamondbacks) and below all the skyscrapers. We found an alleyway with walls covered in street art. It was a cool place to chill and take photos. 

Box of BoSa Donuts.

2. BoSa Donuts. Kaitlyn was excited to take us to this donut shop. BoSa Donuts is based in Arizona and has an amazing selection of this tasty confectionery. We stopped by a shop in Mesa and it was a relief to be away from the hustle and bustle of the more popular areas. If I lived near a BoSa, I would definitively come often as I have a weakness for donuts. 

Eating at The Beach House.

3. Eating with the Riggses. One of the great pleasures of this trip was to meet with people that Kaitlyn worked with on her mission. One such duo was Brother and Sister Riggs, an elderly missionary couple who live in the area. They met us at The Beach House on Camelback Road, a quaint joint that serves tacos and slushies. The Riggses had no problem at all talking with us. They carried on as if we had been lifelong friends. Indeed we shared a common culture and heritage which helped give us an immediate connection. They were kind, gentle, down to earth and very personable. In the end they insisted on paying for our meals and gave us all hugs as we parted. 

Top of Camelback Mountain.

4. Camelback Mountain. Since the first time Kaitlyn wrote home after climbing Camelback Mountain, I knew it was a hike on which she wanted to take me. We almost didn't get to go because parking was full and law enforcement officers were turning cars away. This hike is probably the most popular in the Phoenix area. When we finally got our turn I was impressed with the scenic vistas, saguaro cacti and relentless uphill slope of the hike. Definitely not for the weak. 

Arizona sunset.

5. Sunsets. Need I say more? We hardly saw a single cloud, but watching the sun go down behind Arizona palm trees is enough to make me nostalgic. 

Easter Pageant at the Mesa, Arizona Temple.

6. Mesa Arizona Easter Pageant. On the north lawn of the Mesa Temple of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints is held the largest annual outdoor Easter Pageant in the world. I barely knew this existed until a couple weeks before we came, and we just happened to be there for Easter weekend. I will admit that it was bigger and more impressive than I expected. Thousands were gathered on chairs and blankets to watch the pageant. The musical, which lasted slightly over an hour, included 450 actors. The production is titled Jesus the Christ, and depicts the life of the Savior from before his birth until the time of his resurrection. It was a very pleasant evening under the warm Arizona air. 

Town Lake in Tempe, Arizona.

7. Chilling at Tempe Town Lake. This wasn't planned at all. In fact, we hoped to walk through the botanical gardens, but when we learned it was $39 per person just to enter, we said no way! So we drove down the road and ended up in Tempe. The town lake is the result of damming up the Salt River and creating a lake that looks like an even bigger river. There is a park along the shore called Tempe Beach Park. We enjoyed sitting at the edge of the water and watching the boats on the lake and people walking through the park. 

Headstone of Waylon Jennings.

8. Waylon Jennings' Grave. Our purpose of going to the Mesa City Cemetery was to visit the grave of my fourth great grandfather, Joseph Ellis Johnson. He is buried in the older section. But to my great surprise I learned that country music legend, Waylon Jennings, was buried a few sections away. I used this as a teaching experience for the kids. We got their picture with the headstone and then listened to the Dukes of Hazzard theme song on the way out. 

Meeting the Juarez family.

9. The Juarez Family. Our final day in Phoenix was a Sunday and we chose to attend a Spanish-speaking congregation for Sabbath worship. There we met several people who knew my daughter and spoke fondly of her. But it was Elvira Juarez and her two daughters who spent the most time with us. We sat in the pew just behind them and talked for several minutes before the meeting started. It delighted my soul to meet people that had such a loving connection with my daughter.
 

View of Table Mesa, north of Phoenix.

10. Table Mesa Road. This was a location just north of Phoenix. We had to find a spot to change out of our Sunday clothes and I chose here, a location off the beaten path that would give us authentic scenery and privacy at the same time. We turned off the freeway onto this road and I will admit that I was a little hesitant. It looked eerily similar to the border with Mexico and I didn't want to get shot. Saguaro cactus dotted the arid hillside. Even if it was only brief, I was excited to be here. 

Arizona Canal looking back toward Camelback Mountain. (photo by Nicholas Gerbis)

Bonus: Canals. I was very surprised to see so many wide canals carrying water across the valley. How can such a hot and dry place have so much water? But the bigger intrigue came when I learned that many of these canals had ancient origins. When the first European settlers arrived in the Salt River Valley they found an extensive network of abandoned canals built over a thousand years ago by the Hohokam people. Much of this civilization remains a mystery, but archeologists now agree that it was the largest irrigation system in North America at the time. The original settlers built and expanded on this early canal system. In this manner, the Phoenix area has been an oasis for over a thousand years. ♠

A Dominican Baseball Game

As we prepared to land in Santo Domingo, I couldn't help but to look down from my airplane window and notice the abundance of baseball diamonds dotting the landscape. They seemed to be everywhere! Not the kind with lush, manicured outfields, but the kind with dirt and no bleachers, surrounded either by jungle or sugar cane fields. 

The national sport of the Dominican Republic is baseball. They have produced many stars to the Major Leagues such as Sammy Sosa and Albert Pujols. As I observed I became nostalgic. It reminded me of how baseball was in the United States fifty years ago. Kids playing in the streets and vacant lots. They didn't have the fancy equipment, the travel teams—or even cleats—like we have now, but they loved the sport. 

Watching a Little League baseball practice in Bayahibe, Dominican Republic.

If you look closely beyond the field you can see the Caribbean Sea.

At one of our beach towns on the southern coast we passed a ball field with Little League-aged kids having practice. The road near the field had sea shells embedded in the road base. There was a small set of bleachers and dugouts, but no outfield fence. If you looked through the trees you could see the blue of the Caribbean Sea. 

We paused for fifteen minutes and with pleasure watched the boys as they took batting practice. Many of the players did very well, showing off their skill, but with others it was obvious they weren't so good. There was a mixture of all kinds. 

As we watched, a father showed up on a moped with his two sons. They jumped off and joined the team. Off to the side a couple of boys played catch and were embarrassed when they missed a ball and I had to fetch it for them. If only they knew how much I wanted to jump in and join them! 

Looking into the dugout of the Leones del Escogido.

As part of our adventure we planned on watching a professional game in Santo Domingo. Yes, I said professional. Until doing research for this trip I had no idea that the Domincan Republic had their own professional baseball league. There are six teams, two of them located in the nation's capital. The winner of the league plays in the Caribbean Series, which includes teams from Cuba, Panama, Columbia, Venezuela and Mexico. 

Our day came to watch the game and we hired a taxi driver to take us to Quisqueya Stadium, far away from the historical Colonial Zone of Santo Domingo. The process to buy tickets wasn't hard at all as we were met by scalpers from the second we left the taxi. 

But after we had bought the tickets and the taxi driver was long gone, we faced our next big obstacle. While walking through security to enter the stadium, they asked for our vaccination cards. What!!?? Of course, we had them, but we left them back at our hotel. It hadn't crossed our minds that we would need them. After a gesture of shock and disbelief, and a true sob-story that our cards were at our hotel, the ticket lady let us in. Hallelujah! 

Man selling concessions.

Quisqueya Stadium is about the size of many Minor League coliseums, having a capacity of just over 14,000 people. It is home for two ball clubs. Tonight we would watch one of them, the Leones del Escogido. 

We found our seats behind home-plate, but up higher in the grandstand. It was a vibrant crowd. There was a lot of enthusiasm and even a band. People waved red flags in the air and drank plenty of the national beer, El Presidente (some of which was spilled on my back by the guy sitting behind us). 

The windup and pitch.

Enjoying ourselves at the ballgame.

While waiting for the game to start I left Jenelle with our seats and walked down to buy a pizza for 900 pesos. While I waited the Dominican national anthem began to play and everyone stopped where they were to pay respect. 

Although the seats were only half-filled, the electricity felt like there were 60,000 people. The crowd, you could tell, loved their sport. Stormy clouds rolled overhead, but didn't drop a single bead of rain. Sunset came and went, and big dome lights turned on. 

Photos on the wall of former players for Escogido.

Photo of Felipe Alou and Juan Marichal, both from the Dominican Republic.

Between innings I went back into the halls of the stadium and glanced at the pictures on the wall. I found portraits of Felipe Alou, Juan Marichal, Junior Naboa, Sammy Sosa and more. All of them played for Escogido at one time in their careers. 

Juan Marichal was nicknamed the Dominican Dandy and was the first from the country to be inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame. As a child he lived on a farm on the northern coast where he took care of the horses, goats and donkeys. He loved to swim and fish. One day while swimming near the river he fell unconscious and remained in a coma for nine days. The doctor ordered a steam bath which eventually helped him wake up. 

He eventually learned how to play baseball from his older brother. In the early days they would find golf balls and pay a shoemaker one peso to sew cloth around it thick enough to use as a baseball. They used tree branches for bats and canvas tarps for mitts. Some of his playmates were the Alou brothers, who would also go on to play in the Major Leagues. 

Remember, as he played as a kid, there were no Dominicans playing professional ball. In fact, Juan was only the second, behind Ozzie Virgil. But that was his aspiration. I don't know anything about his playing with Escogido, but I know he did because I saw the pictures on the wall, wearing the uniform. Juan went on to pitch for the San Francisco Giants, becoming one of the most successful players of his day. 

Seventh inning stretch.

This must be the mascot, but it doesn't look like a lion!

During the seventh inning stretch, everyone stood and sang their version of Take Me Out to the Ballgame. By the end of nine innings, Escogido had won Los Toros del Este by a score of 3 to 1. 

Before we left the stadium I had one last thing I had to do—buy a souvenir. In the gift shop I found an array of expensive merchandise, most in the form of clothing. I noted that many of the jerseys had “Pujols” printed on the back. 

“Did Albert Pujols play for Escogido?” I asked one of the men there. He was quick to point out that yes, he did, and he was even coming to play during the off-season as soon as the regular season was over. (The Dominicans have their season during the winter.) 

I was excited to hear that and it was enough to persuade me to buy a t-shirt with the Escogidos logo on front and Pujols on the back. Even though biographical writers in the U.S. are reluctant to mention the teams Dominican players played for in their home country, it is obvious that locals will know, and are very proud. 

And one other interesting tidbit I learned about Albert Pujols, the Santo Domingo native: when he was young he used limes for baseballs and milk cartons for gloves. ♠ 

Quisqueya Stadium in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic.

 

Battle of Ramsour's Mill

I am a newcomer to the history of the Revolutionary War. I grew up in the West, far from the eastern battlefields. To illustrate this point, when Benedict Arnold was defeated at the Battle of Valcour Island on October 11, 1776, Dominguez and Escalante were on the other side of the continent passing through an empty valley inhabited only by Paiute Indians. That empty valley is where I now live. Therefore, the stories and setting of the war are far removed from my own experience. 

Recently I visited North Carolina and was placed on ground zero of Revolutionary battlefields. Just being there brought the battles alive. Some of the conflicts were major and others minor. The Battle of Ramsour's Mill falls into the latter category. 

My study of the war has really made me wonder which side I would have been on had I lived back then. Loyalist or Patriot? It's easy to look back with hindsight and think I would have been a Patriot, but it wasn't so cut and dry. Having nothing besides ideology separating the two sides, it would be the equivalent—at least in my mind—of a modern war between Republicans and Democrats. 

They say that the Revolution was North America's first civil war. That point is illustrated perhaps no better than at the Battle of Ramsour's Mill. When all was said and done, many of the dead, Loyalist and Patriot alike, were buried in the same mass grave because they couldn't be told apart. 

Millstone on display at the battleground site.

The battle took place in Lincoln County, North Carolina, just twenty five miles northwest of Charlotte. That area now consists of an elementary and high school, complete with football field and playground. The former is fittingly named Battleground Elementary. Clark Creek flows roughly north to south on the west side. 

Leading up to battle the British had gained momentum with decisive victories in Georgia and South Carolina under the command of Lord Cornwallis. In early June of 1780, Colonel John Moore and Major Nicholas Welch, both natives of Lincoln County, returned home and issued a call for local residents to assemble and support the Loyalists. By June 19th, over 1,000 men and boys, most unarmed, camped on the east bench of Clark Creek on the land of Christian Reinhardt. On the west was a gristmill operated by Jacob Ramsour. 

Meanwhile, Patriot General Griffith Rutherford, who was camped near Charlotte, learned of the assembling Loyalists. He sent orders to Colonel Francis Locke and other militia leaders to call up their militia groups. Locke responded by gathering 400 infantry and cavalry at Mountain Creek, a location sixteen miles northeast of the battle site.—It was decided by Locke's group to attack at daybreak without waiting for Rutherford's group, fearing the British might gain extra reinforcements. 

Clark Creek.

The Battle 

The Patriot militia left Mountain Creek and made a night march toward Ramsour's Mill. A heavy fog blanketed the area surrounding the mill and Christian Reinhardt's farm. Led by the cavalry, Patriot forces marched to battle, coming close to the Loyalist encampment before being discovered. 

The cavalry attacked first, followed by the infantry. The British were caught off-guard, but quickly recovered and fired back. Fighting was brutal, much of it hand to hand. Sometimes muskets were used as clubs due to lack of ammunition. They wore no uniforms. Patriots pinned white paper on their hats. Tories (or British) stuck green twigs in theirs. 

The Patriots were able to gain control of the ridge, but when they were unable to reform their line, Colonel Locke ordered a retreat. Captain John Dickey, the legendary hero of Ramsour's Mill, refused to obey orders and led a group of militiamen to higher ground. The marksmen, led by John Hardin, picked off several Loyalist soldiers and turned the battle into a victory. Loyalists retreated toward the mill, crossing to the west side of Clark Creek where they dispersed into the countryside. The battle lasted less than two hours. 

Grave of John Martin Shuford on the battlefield of Ramsour's Mill.

South of the football field is a sloping grassy field and a log cabin with rock chimney. I don't know the age of the cabin, nor whether it was connected to the battle. Next to it is a large millstone for display on the grass, as well as an interpretive sign. Near this is a parking area where my brother-in-law and I parked to explore what we could of the battlefield. 

North of the cabin next to a grove of trees is the grave of John Martin Shuford, a farmer recruited by the British to fight in the war. He died during battle at age 36. 

We walked along a dirt path through the grove of trees, alongside what appeared to be a practice field for the football team. Soon we came to Clark Creek, a small stream by North Carolina standards. Being left to our own knowledge—which wasn't much on this subject—we had no idea of the location of Jacob Ramsour's Mill, nor of Christian Reinhardt's farm. We found a few remains of something, but wasn't sure how old, or what it was. 

After the battle had ended and the fog had lifted, it was revealed that many had died. Estimates say that perhaps 50 to 70 on each side had perished, and several more than that were wounded. Many were wounded so severely that they died days later. 

Like I stated earlier, this was a battle between friends and family members. There is a story of Peter Costner, a Loyalist, who was killed by his brother, Thomas, who buried his brother's body after the combat. Another story tells of a man who rushed to battle hoping to kill his sibling, only to find that he had already been wounded and carried off. 

We wandered to other parts of the arena. On the south side of the school complex is what is referred to as “The General's Grave.” A sign indicated that there were several Generals killed in the battle, but two of them, John Dobson and John Bowman were interred at the site. Others were returned to their hometowns to be buried. What made the General's Grave interesting was that years later, when other family members had passed away, they chose to bury them there also. 

"The General's Grave," located behind the Elementary School at Lincolnton, North Carolina.

On the north side of the Elementary School, across the street from the football field, is a mass grave. Due to the fact that many of the soldiers could not be distinguished from one another because they wore no uniforms, they were respectfully buried together. Shortly after the battle work began to help the wounded and bury the dead. A large trench was dug on the west side of the hill where Loyalist and Patriot were interred as one. 

There was a somber feeling as we slowly walked around the mass grave. Today it is manicured with grass and surrounded with cement curbing. Two small Colonial flags are displayed at the corners. As we pondered, light raindrops began to fall. 

A nearby plaque reads: “Underneath this hallowed ground, lying between the borders marked, are the remains of many of the seventy brave and true citizen-soldiers, names unknown, Loyalists and Patriots, their bodies unclaimed. They died fighting, their strong beliefs intact, on that 20th day of June, 1780. Sacred to memory are those who fell, defending their beliefs, at the Battle of Ramsour's Mill. May these stones cry out—lest we forget!” 

A mass grave, which includes both Loytalist and Patriot.

The Aftermath 

On that day in June, 400 Patriots defeated 1,300 Loyalists. The victory weakened support and morale for the Loyalist cause and began momentum for the Patriots. It provided inspiration for the crucial victory at King's Mountain just a few months later. 

And remember Captain Dickey, the man who refused orders and led an attack that would turn the tide of battle? He was hailed as a hero, and perhaps a legend. A Patriot soldier composed a ballad to honor Captain Dickey. It has been sung many times in his honor. One verse remains: 

"Old Colonel Locke kept pretty well back,
While brave Captain Dickey commenced the attack.
He, Colonel Locke, ordered us to retreat and reform,
Which made our old hero mightily storm." 

By this time the rain was picking up and now a downpour. We darted quickly for the truck. As we drove through the green Carolina countryside, I couldn't help but to ponder the history tucked inside these lonely dales. History that was crucial to our nation's beginning, but is lost to the majority of us who have moved on or live so far away. ♠

Grave of Mary Anne Ramsour Butler at White Church Cemetery in Lincolnton. Daughter of Jacob Ramsour.