Downtown Prescott oozes charm. A network of 100-year-old brick buildings frame the the Yavapai County Courthouse at the center of town. Growing up there, the grassy park surrounding the Back to the Future-like edifice was a hub for tourists and town folk alike (and still is today). Droves turned out for art shows, pint-sized parades and Christmas carolers. An eclectic, steady stream of cowboys and city slickers filtered into saloons along the infamous Whiskey Row.
Yavapai County Court House, iStock
As a child, I was always baffled at the number of tourists who flooded the town. I didn’t realize that I lived in the quintessential setting of an All-American storybook. The entire community seemed to be connected by two degrees, which also gave me a sense of safety. I ruled the town on my bike and built countless forts on the edges of the city, marking my territory among the junipers and ponderosa pines.
I remember when Walmart opened on the edge of town in early 90s. Wow, we were big time now. K-mart was no longer the only game in town. I was too young to realize that this was the beginning on an entirely new Prescott landscape.
Corporate America Welcomes You to…
Fast forward a couple decades. The rolling green hills that lead drivers into town have been swallowed up by a sea of corporate logos. Home Depot, Cracker Barrell, In-and-Out and Westcor now dominate the landscape. The first lone Walmart wasn’t apparently cutting it, so two Super Walmarts have since swept in to save residents from the 10-minute drive. And this is merely the tip of the ice berg. New corporate franchises can be found throughout the entire town. Seemingly overnight, my charming hometown turned into a giant strip mall.
In a way, Prescott still is the All-American town. We live in a nation where growth and development are valued, and while charm is admired, it doesn’t create jobs or provide access to modern conveniences. As the population boomed with new blood, priorities changed.
What makes a small town “charming”?
I wonder how kids growing up in this new Prescott will look back on their childhood memories. I fear my kids will never understand how the town shaped my life. Of course, I can’t raise too much of a fit. I made a beeline for the “big city” life as soon as I received my high school diploma.
As an adult, I’m thankful I can look back fondly on a childhood that fueled a life-long passion for the outdoors. While the influx of franchises has transformed the cityscape, locals can still explore natural wonders with a very short drive. Thumb Butte and Granite Mountain haven’t gone anywhere.
How do you view Prescott’s transformation in the last few years? Does it represent progression, regression, a little of both, or something else completely different? What do the current locals think?
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As a Prescott native, whose e-mail was my address there, I remember the wonderful climbs of the rocks next to our house, the hikes up Thumb Butte, the walks into town from our house, even walks from Miller Valley Elementary school that were lengthened when I meditated by the stream of water we had to cross [after a rain].
Then I grew up, graduated from PSHS and made my way into the world. My parents’ home, which they owned all their married life, was sold to the lady who took care of mom in her last years. Prescott began changing.
Now when I visit infrequently, the new outweighs the old and it is less different and charming than it used to be. It is still a good place to live, but I now live in Tempe.