Just 2 or 3 years ago Benson’s oldest country club, Turquoise Hills Golf Course closed after a long struggle. Before it was a golf course it was the Sunset Motel and Trailer Park owned by the Franklin family. During the 1950s the Sunset Motel also provided the only swimming pool open to the public in Be

nson.

The Sunset Motel was one of the 18 motels in Benson during the 1950s and 1960s until I-10 bypassed Benson and bringing to an end to the thriving tourist period in Benson’s history.

After the 1960s Benson became a winter refuge for the Snowbird population that inhabited Benson during the winter months. The new winter residents demanded a totally different recreation, one compatible with an older retired generation. Thus, the Sunset Motel gave way to the snowbird’s golfing demands and became a country club/golf course named Turquoise Hills Country Club.

The very original name of the Sunset Motel prior to the Franklins acquiring it was Goods Rest Camp and Trailer Court. In the 1930s and 1940s the automobile became more reliable and Highway 80 was the only route going east to New Mexico before Highway 86 was paved in 1941, Goods Rest Camp and Trailer Court was probably the only place in Benson that could provide overnight parking and services for trailers in Benson. After 1941 Parkers Trailer Park was built next to the San Pedro river in East Benson what was then Highway 86, and provided a shorter route to New Mexico, would pretty much take the trailer park business over.

Of course, the Snowbird migration with their monster motor homes and fifth wheel trailers, would end what was known as trailer parks and thus begin the development of RV parks which would also offer many activities for the Snowbird population.

The motel room portion of the Sunset Motel and Trailer park would become short term apartments and the trailer park would disappear altogether due to the many RV parks which would grow to now I believe about 17 in the Benson area.

The block between Huachuca St and San Pedro Street has changed considerably since the turn of the 19^th century to the 20^th century. Many of the original buildings burned during this period and those that remained supported various changing businesses.

One such building is the present-day Be-you-tiful Hair Salon. Before it burned in the 1990s this building was a two-story building that housed the Silver Spur Club. Originally the Silver Spur structure and the two buildings, one on either side was a Ford Dealership in the 1918 . In the early days of the Silver Spur Club the upper floor was a doctor’s office. In 1950 Everett Lewis purchased the Silver Spur and converted the upper floor into living quarters in the true spirit of a “mom and pop” business. Everett Lewis’ former occupation was that as a brick mason. In the 1970s, due to poor health Everett sold the Silver Spur Club to Eddie Strubie who ran the business until he sold it to two brothers. This spelled the demise of the business as well as the building when in the late 1970s the brothers committed arson and burned the building down to the walls.

The building was rebuilt but only as a present day one story structure. This was also the beginning of the end of most of the Saloons in Benson. I-10 took the El Rancho Bar which was out on highway 86 east of Benson. Page’s Palace opens on occasion but is closed most of the time. Since restaurants, Safeway, Walmart, and Circle Ks all sell liquor only the Arena Bar, VFW, Eagles and Riverside Inn exist now.

The Ford dealership which was replaced by the Silver Spur and the Studebaker dealership were the beginning of many new car dealerships in Benson of which none exist today.

Near the site of the Circle K on the corner of 4^th and Huachuca street was the original Studebaker dealership until it sold to the Lewis Brothers and it became the Lewis Brothers Garage in the 1940s.

On the southeast corner of 4^th and San Pedro was a Hudson dealership which in the 1950s became Benson Chevrolet dealership until the 1960s at which time the Chevrolet dealership was relocated to a new facility south of Benson on Highway 80. This was the dominate dealership in Benson until the middle 1950s when Dale Lopshire added onto the B. F. Goodrich store which was located next door to the Riverside Inn and established the second Ford dealership to serve Benson. The B.F Goodrich became the parts department for the new Ford dealership.

In 1956 a Plymouth dealership was established across the street from Lopshire’s Ford between the Dixie gas station and next to Bill’s Trading Post (later the 86 Café) but the competition drove it out of business after only one year. Lopshire’s Ford was sold by Dale and became Cholla Ford. Cholla Ford eventually sold out to Lawley which after a struggle eventually closed its doors.

As I said Benson Chevrolet dealership, last owned by Frank Bivens, moved to out on highway 80 south of Benson in the 1960s and it became Mundy Chevrolet which was eventually taken over by Dale Lopshire for a short time who then sold it to Fred Mundy. When sales dropped significantly Fred Mundy, who had added Chrysler and Jeep to the distributorship, sold out to Beaudry Motors of Tucson which eventually went bankrupt thus the end of new car dealerships in Benson. The competition of the large dealerships in both Tucson and Sierra Vista proved to be too strong which spelled the demise of new car dealerships in Benson. Now the only car dealership in Benson is Barney’s used car dealership.

Photos provided by Stan Benjamin Southern Arizona Historian

This is the B. F. Goodrich that was located next to the San Pedro Court Motel on the SE corner of Patagonia and 4th. It relocated to a larger building in East Benson which became the right half of the current Napa Auto which previously was Lopshire’s Ford then Cholla Ford and last Lawley Ford.

This is the right half of the current Napa Auto which was Lopshire’s Ford then Cholla Ford and last Lawley Ford.

Present day building that was originally Lopshire’s Ford and later both Cholla and Lawley Ford.

The right half of the building was a B.F. Goodrich store which Dick Lopshire had relocated from a smaller building on 4^th and Patagonia. The left half was added as a showroom and maintenance vehicle service and maintenance area.

Present day Sarge’s Sidearms, formerly C&H Metal Works and Benson Auto.

In the middle 50’s all grammar school students were required to line up by grade groups outside before the start of school to say the pledge of allegiance while the flag was being raised. A boy who played the trumpet played a patriotic tune while the flag was being raised. That old flag pole was the only element of the beautiful grammar school that remains today.

All girls wore dresses or skirts. No pants or casual wear was ever used or allowed at school.

On the last day of high school my senior year a couple of us boys wore Bermuda shorts to school. We were told we had to go home and change clothes to attend the last school day.

The senior class each year would take a senior trip to Disneyland, the beach, and other Los Angeles, CA attractions. We also went to the Coconut Grove in Hollywood which was a popular night club. Lawrence Welk was performing as I recall. Sharon Hesser was called upon to dance the polka with one of the musicians.

The seniors in the class of ’57 or ’58 went to Mexico for their senior trip. My cousins Connie Caballero and Amelia Romero were in that class. Do seniors still take senior trips??

The freshman classes were initiated each year at the beginning of the school year. The boys in 1958 (my first year in HS) had to wear girls slips, wear makeup, and do chores for the sophomores. Do they still have this initiation custom?

A huge bonfire was built on the baseball field at night during the first week of school prior to the first football game. The coaches and team captains spoke. Afterward, a long line of students held hands and ran through the center of town. The long line was called a whip and it was difficult to stay in contact with the person in front it went so fast and zig-zagged down the streets.

Sierra Vista didn’t become a town until the 50’s.  The first time we played football at Sierra Vista (a class A school, we were class B) we had to play in the afternoon on a dirt field. Sierra Vista was a brand new school and still had not planted grass nor installed lights.

The public swimming pool was located about a mile outside of town. It was run by the City. The girls on the pom-pom squad took turns there working during the summer selling candy and soft drinks and charging the 25 cent entry fee. Fernando Mendival (class of ’57 or so?) was the head life guard and a small group of us soon-to-be seniors helped as assistant life guards. We “worked” for 50 cents an hour. We were Dewitt Casner, Bobby Caballero, George Potter, and Steve Woods. Each day the cash register started out with $20 in it. At the end of the summer the City let us life guards have the final $20 to go to Tombstone  for a pizza dinner. That was the first time many of us had ever tasted a pizza pie. It was delicious. Benson did not have a restaurant that sold pizza. I don’t remember any girl wearing a bikini or even a two piece bathing suit. They all wore the old fashioned one-piece style bathing suits.

And of course the public swimming pool was not the only swimming resource.  I wonder if  today’s kids ever swim in stock tanks?  It was probably pretty unsanitary, but fun.

This is the text of the speech given by Mr. Becchetti on the occasion of accepting his Honorary Alumnus status at the First Annual BBAA Dinner.

It’s good to be back in Benson with friends and former students who are enjoying their Golden Years in this beautiful land.

Oh! How I’ve missed this wonderful corner of Arizona!

While I was here those eleven years, I drank in its beauty. I thrilled to the fiery skies of sunset in the west and learned to love the quiet of twilight as it settles over the Whetstone mountains.

I remember standing on the banks of the San Pedro river after a cloudburst in the mountains and marveling at the power of its muddy waters.

I listened to the words around me and perhaps took on some of the slow and gentle way of saying things that I heard, so that I might be mistaken as being from the San Pedro Valley from my birth.

I heard of the Apaches high in the Dragoons and of their noble chief Cochise; and on the streets of Benson, specially at rodeo time, I saw honest-to-goodness real cowboys and watched them on parade, their horses prancing proudly, with silver trappings shining in the sun.

I even got a glimpse of the best cowboy of them all, Benson’s own Del Haverty, the All Round World Champion Cowboy of 1951, and heard the story of how he used to sit at his school desk and practice his calf-tying with a rope that he always carried.

Along with everybody else, I learned and sang the first few words of all the cowboy songs we heard on the radio, and I actually heard coyotes howling at night.

Once, I picked up a horned toad, flipped him over on his back and hypnotized him by tickling his belly.

And then there was cactus. I remember the beautiful snow white cholla that lay in wait for you and jumped on your legs and wouldn’t let go. I even sneaked up on a prickly pear cactus one time and picked one of its red fruits to eat.

And the kids living down by Lourdes Church told me how their grandma — their abuelita – kept them from wandering off at night by telling them of La Llorona, the weeping woman who roamed the streets in search of her lost children, and of how she might take you with her, never to be seen again.

All these things I remember about the San Pedro Valley, and I will never forget them.

So I am thrilled beyond all measure to be back and to join my distinguished companions Mark Battaglia, Linda Lou Lamb and Gilberto Zamudio as Honorary Alumni of Benson High. I thank the Benson Bobcat Alumni Association for this honor, and I am especially appreciative of the courtesy that the president of the Association, Chic Maldonado, has shown me on my trip.

Thanks to this title of Honorary Alumnus, I now have the same “Alma Mater” as the five hundred students that I taught for eleven years from 1950-1961.

In addition, I have now become a “blood brother” to the thousands of men and women of the San Pedro Valley who have graduated from Benson’s schools since they hired their first teacher 142 years ago.

In the fall of 1875, while Apaches still launched their attacks from the Dragoon Mountains, the settlers in the Valley hired Mary Belle Bernard Aguirre as their first teacher. Mrs. Aguirre established her first school in the settlement of Tres Alamos, on the east bank of the San Pedro river, about seven miles upriver from Benson. She taught 23 students of all ages in a one-room adobe house with a dirt floor. She and her students walked a mile each day to the school.

Unfortunately, the school had to be closed the following spring because of Indian attacks, so Mrs. Aguirre and her son returned to their home in Tucson, but the determined settlers re-opened the school the next year with a teacher from San Francisco.

Tonight’s dinner celebrates all those graduates of the past 142 years. We also honor all the teachers who have taken the children of the Valley and molded them into cultured men and women who have made significant contributions to American society.

Above all, we do honor to the citizens of the San Pedro Valley and to the School Board for their constant dedication to the education of their children.

The attractive campus in Benson and its exciting activities give testimony to the concern that the good people of the Valley have always had for the future of their children. All the teachers in Benson can give testimony to the support that they have received from the citizens of the Valley.

After seeing the quality of the educational facilities in Benson, we alumni are certain that future graduates will bring credit to their parents and to all the residents of the San Pedro Valley.

I join with my fellow Honorary Alumni in congratulating all the graduates, the members of the School Board, all the teachers and all the Valley citizens for their contributions to the good education of our young people.

(Ed. note: I screwed up, this was supposed to be no. 1 not no. 4.)

THE ‘HOTTEST’ 4^TH OF JULY!

(My Prologue to Personal Memories of Benson: the First in a Series… Hopefully!)
By Bill Guerra (wmguerra@mindspring.com)

Anyone who’s witnessed Benson’s 4^th of July celebration can readily attest to the foregone conclusion that it’s sure to be a blistering hot day! Parade spectators will invariably arm themselves with a cool one and search out a shady spot where they can track the slowly moving floats, various horse units, the Bobcat Alumni band, and, of course, the fez-hatted Shriners zig-zagging the parade route on their little go-carts.

During last year’s BUHS Centennial (1914-2014) Celebration, I was reminded by one of our old neighbors, Bea (Blakey) Hernandez, of one particularly memorable Fourth! The year was 1945. President Roosevelt had died a few months earlier at the beginning of his fourth term; the war in Europe was over; within a month and a half the atomic bomb would be twice employed on the Japanese mainland and the war in the Pacific would also come to a conclusion. Bea says she clearly remembers my mother’s sister Josephine Comaduran King (Aunt Jo to us nephews and nieces) emerge from our house and hold up one finger. A few minutes later, she re-emerged and held up a second finger – confirmation to Bea and other observant neighbors that twin boys – my brother Bob and I (!!) – had made our arrival into the world of Benson, Arizona.

My Benson ‘Credentials’

For the next 18 years, Bob and I – along with our five siblings (the youngest, Donnie would come along some 18 months later) – would progress through childhood and adolescence to young adulthood. The seven children of Susie and Manuel Guerra were born during a 17 year period ranging from 1929 to 1946. In addition, our mother, and her mother, were also native-born Bensonites. I mention this to emphasize a long term ‘connectedness’ to Benson that extends beyond my personal remembrances, but which, by family experience and storytelling, effectively lengthens the depth of our family’s roots – mine included. Even though I’ve not actually resided in Benson for more than half a century, I still happily try to make the journey home two or three times a year – at least, now that I am semi-retired. During my 27 year military career I sometimes went three or four years, while serving in overseas assignments, without visiting mi tierra!

Equally interesting – to me, at least – is that after all these years four of my siblings live and reside in Benson, while a 5^th , twin brother Bob, lives a short distance away in Tucson. This ‘homing phenomenon’ is by no means unusual. At school reunions I’m always amazed at the number of friends and classmates who spent many years away from Arizona and the Southwest but who ultimately decided to return – if not to Benson, at least to the Tucson or Phoenix areas!

DROOPY… A BENSON DOG WITH CHARACTER!
By Bill Guerra (wmguerra@mindspring.com)

Among other things, growing up in a town like Benson meant acquiring and caring for various animal companions. For many this meant cats, of which there was an endless supply of semi-feral felines — all anxious to call your place home – if you would simply provide them one or two meals a day! There were also bird lovers who kept caged canaries, parakeets, or other species. I particularly recall one large green parrot who passed his day in a sizable cage outside his keeper’s door; this particular periquito (yes, I know, that’s a parakeet not a parrot!) would let out a loud, lascivious wolf whistle to any passing girl… or boy – he wasn’t gender particular with his flirtatious whistles!

At one time or another, we also kept rabbits, ducks, chickens and other critters. During periodic visits by traveling carnivals, and especially during Helldorado in Tombstone, some of the attractions included games of chance in which one tossed nickels or dimes onto strategically laid out plates, saucers and bowls to win a prize. To ‘win’, the player had to land his coin on a plate without it bouncing off onto the booth floor – an outcome destined for most of the tossed coins. My Dad, however, seemed to possess a special ‘skill’ at landing his tosses, consequently, we sometimes returned from our carny adventure with baby chicks or yellow down covered ducklings.

On one occasion, we came home from Tombstone with a baby duck that Bob and I immediately christened Helldorado – after his place of origin. We were probably seven or eight years old at the time, and our overriding curiosity regarding this new friend was whether or not he could actually swim! He’s a duck, you know, but absent his mother’s instruction did he really know how to swim – or was he in need of remedial instruction? To satisfy our curiosity Bob and I grabbed shovel and hoe and carved out a small backyard ‘pond’ which we then filled with the garden hose. Very gingerly – lest he demonstrate his ducky ineptness and sink to the bottom – we launched Helldorado into his new swimming hole. Of course we were thrilled to see that he could easily paddle about the deepest portions of our pond, which in true Arizona manner, was quickly being absorbed into our thirsty, bone dry earth and refashioned into a mud pit! Helldorado probably needed rubber galoshes more than webbed feet!

For most of us, however, the pet of choice was a dog. Up and down the barrio there was a never ending assortment of free-ranging mutts that belonged to one kid or another. Bobby Caballero’s dog was Red; Joey Cota’s was Sandy; and Conrad Caballero had Tiny – a very mean tempered little dog that would bite at the slightest provocation, causing his owners to keep him safely penned away! Our family also had a generational span of dogs: There were many that preceded us younger Guerra’s, but first in my memory was Freckles, a sweet little female that loved my Dad; she was succeeded by her offspring, a little male, also known as Freckles; and then by Prince. But my favorite, the one with most character, was Droopy. Yes, like the cartoon dog Droopy, although similarities ended at their shared name.

Droopy was left in a cardboard box on our doorstep one night and was discovered by Mama the following morning when she heard his very faint whimpering. Although Dad was not so inclined, we begged Mama to let us keep this tiny little puppy and she, of course, conceded thereby vetoing Dad’s objections! Our new creature was a 100%, ‘Heinz 57’ mutt; however, his brown markings on white coat did indeed give him a slight resemblance to the cartoon dog. We pampered our new friend and played with him as we watched him grow… and grow… and grow! When fully mature, he tipped the scales at about 100 pounds!

I personally loved Droopy for his unfailing good nature and his willingness to indulge his owners – even when they wanted to ‘ride’ him like a pony! But the thing I most liked about him was his unhesitant willingness to roust himself daily at 5:00 AM and accompany me on my newspaper route as I pedaled about town delivering the morning edition of the Arizona Republic! Not only was he a willing companion, he also was my protector from other dogs along my route who were not favorably disposed to the newspaper boy’s intrusion on their turf.

On one occasion I was speeding down Patagonia Street from my last delivery in Benson Heights – Vernon Arnold’s home right at the top of the very steep hill where Patagonia splits into three different roads. (I hated going up to Mr Arnold’s house, but loved it when I turned around and went down!) With a full head of steam I banked into a hard right turn on 8th Street, directly in front of the main entrance to the Benson Grammar School and right in front of Judge Harold Holcomb’s home. Suddenly, pedaling became very difficult and almost simultaneously Droopy let out a horrendous, unceasing howl. I came to a screeching halt, hopped off my bike and immediately discovered the source of my (our?) problem: Droopy’s tail was caught between the bike chain and the large sprocket of my bike’s gear mechanism! His tail was almost completely severed and bleeding profusely – and all the while poor Droopy was crying loud enough to be heard in St. David.

Naturally, I was totally flustered and had no idea what to do or how to release Droopy’s tail. Panicked, I set off at a dead run to our home about six blocks away, all the while praying my Dad had not yet left to catch the worker’s bus to Apache Powder. Thankfully, Dad was still home and I breathlessly tried to explain my disaster. We quickly jumped into Dad’s old Hudson Hornet and sped our way back to the scene of my crisis. When we arrived we found a shirtless, half shaven man next to my bike holding up the straight razor that he had been using for his morning shave, but which he had now repurposed to surgeon’s scalpel. “There was nothing but a sliver of skin holding him to the chain,” he explained, “so I just went ahead and finished the job!”

For his part, Droopy was obviously still in tremendous pain, but at least his incessant howl had now been replaced by a pathetic whimper. We carefully wrapped the bloody stump of what remained of his tail and cautiously transported him home. Droopy ultimately recovered from his trauma, but he would never again sit normally on his backside like most dogs. Apparently, the pain he endured during his recovery caused him to learn how to sit lopsided on either his right or left haunch, with the corresponding foot splayed out at an angle. The resultant length of his remaining tail was also somewhat of an oddity: It was obviously too short to be a normal tail, but it was too long to have been properly ‘docked’. As I saw it, the situation simply added to Droopy’s already unique character!

Jim Teak, Class of ‘61

Jim was active at BUHS. He served as class president for two years, played football and baseball for four years, was selected for Boy’s State and All-State Band, and was active in the National Honor Society, Drama Club, Lettermen’s Club, Jr. Red Cross, Band, Choir and Mixed Chorus.

He attended the University of Arizona, getting his degree in secondary education. He was fortunate to be advised by upperclassman Robert Berryhill (’59) to take the qualification exam and physical for the Air Force Pilot Training Program, was successful, served 22 years, retired as an O-5 (Lt Col), and flew operationally in nine different airplanes.

Jim spent the next 20 years working as a contractor for both the Department of Energy (DOE) and the Department of Defense (DOD). For DOE, he worked the high-level nuclear waste project (Yucca Mountain) in Las Vegas, NV, and the low-level waste isolation program (WIPP) in Carlsbad, NM. For DOD, he worked the development of a military spaceplane, which is currently in orbit on its fourth classified mission, and the development of distributed computer wargames including players from various weapon systems from all branches of the US service and those of several of our allies

Jim lives in Albuquerque, NM, with his wife Judy of 42 years. They have one son, Ryan, who is a Major in the AF flying B-1s. His son from a previous marriage, Ken Koch, is married and is the Chief of the University of Colorado Police Department. Jim and Judy are planning a final move to southern AZ in the summer to better enjoy their golden years.

Alums that have passed recently

This summer 4 of our alumni have gone beyond.

Ernie Mesa passed away this summer.

Also passed:
Billy Barrios
Gary Satterlee
Patrice “Patty” Wilson, daughter of Gene Wilson, Barbara Barker, and Enedina Wilson

PLEASE send any that we have missed to: Janet Hearn, jhhearn@q.com. Or Kiki Blom, c.blom@sbcglobal so we can add them.

Two Friends working together

Marla Smith-Nilson, Class of 1987

Marla was an active member the years she attended Benson High School. Her parents Mary Jo and Ken Smith were both teachers for many years at BHS. Marla was the recipient of the Flinn Foundation scholarship which allowed her to travel to countries as far as Egypt. Marla graduated from the University of Arizona in civil engineering, which included building things like water systems. She received her masters in environmental engineering from University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill.

She attended a UA summer science camp at age 12. That same summer she vacationed in rural Mexico. ” While on vacation, I saw a girl around my age fill a large container with water from a lake, put it on her back and walk off. It really made an impression on me,” recalled Marla.

Marla founded Water1st International (http://watr1st.org/) and continues as Executive Director. The Seattle-based nonprofit has made safe water accessible to more than 165,000 people in Bangladesh, India, Ethiopia and Honduras. They intentionally work in only four countries, so they can really get to know the communities and their partner agencies.

Marla is married and has two children. They live in Seattle, WA. Her Mother, Mary Jo lives in Seattle also.

Crissy Ahman Perham, Class of 1988

Crissy was also involved in activities while attending Benson High School. She played basketball. Her dad was the boy’s basketball coach. Crissy was the one-person swim team for BHS. She had to go to Tucson for practice and meets.

She was on the University of Arizona swim team from 1988-1992. She won the NCAA national championship in the 100-yard butterfly in 1991 and 1992. Crissy competed at the 1992 Summer Olympics in Barcelona, Spain, where she three medals, two gold and one silver.

Several years later she returned to Tucson and was the Director of Community Relations at Tucson Padres AAA Baseball. Crissy is married and has two children who are also involved in athletics. She now lives in Texas. She joined Marla in Honduras for a Water First International to support this work.

A True Story of the West

by Fred Becchetti

Poorly paid teachers have always had to find a job during their summer vacation to make it through the year financially..
One summer I took a job as night marshal of Benson. This required that I wear a western hat, a star on my chest, a holstered .44 caliber pistol on my hip and cowboy boots. I owned no boots, so with the approval of the Town Council I wore my Thom McAnn high-top shoes, .

My office was in the concrete jail behind the Horseshoe Cafe, and I had a patrol car with a siren and a blinking red-and-blue light. My duties included security checking of store doors, breaking up fights in the two bars, and enforcing the 25 mph speed limit and the 15 mph school zone on the town’s main street, which coincided with the highway to California.
One morning just before ending my night shift, I was standing on the curb at the school zone watching for motorists who might violate the 15 mph speed limit.
Drowsy from my night as town marshall, I was suddenly jolted awake by the squeak of brakes. A car with California plates had come to an abrupt stop in front of me.
A smartly dressed young woman leading a small girl by the hand got out of the car and approached me.
“Excuse me, sir,” the woman said.

I shook myself fully awake and summoned my best western drawl “Yes, ma’am. How can I be of assistance this beautiful morning?”
Almost apologetically, the woman said, “My daughter would like to have a picture of her with a western sheriff. Would you let me take your picture with her?”
I stood more erect, slanted my hat just so, moved my holster forward so that it would show, smiled and reached out for the little girl. In my best drawl, I said, “Why sure, ma’am. It would be my pleasure.” And to the little girl, “Come on, little darlin’. Let’s take a purty picture together for your mommy.”
We stood side by side in the morning sun, and the mother snapped a
picture. She said to her daughter, “Tell the sheriff thank you, honey.”
The little girl looked up at me, her eyes large, and said. “Thank you, Mister Sheriff.”
As they drove off, the daughter waved at me from the rear window. They left without knowing that the “sheriff” in real life was the law in only Benson High School’s English classroom, where his weapon was his red pencil and his only foes were incorrect spelling and faulty English grammar.

Historical Notes: The Horseshoe Cafe

In 1935, the Horseshoe Café was a small diner located at the present location of today’s Horseshoe Café.

By 1939 the Horseshoe Café had changed very little with only changes to the front facade and a rounding of the upper parapet wall.

The Greyhound Bus Depot was located in a small building two doors down to the west located between the San Pedro Motel and the Texaco service station on the corner of 4th and Patagonia

Early in the 1940s, the Horseshoe Café diner was replaced with a single-story building which is the current lower floor of the Horseshoe Café. The single-story building consisted of a dining area, kitchen and patron rest rooms. The dining area was one big room with a horseshoe shaped counter that wrapped around the center support posts that were branded with local cattle ranch brands.

Still in the early 1940s it was anticipated that Arizona was going to adopt open gambling throughout the state and so a second story was added to allow gambling when the state law allowing gambling was passed. Statewide gambling never came to fruition and the upper floor became the owner’s residence.

Soon afterward the Horseshoe Café got the contract from Greyhound and became the bus stop lasting through the 1970s. The Greyhound busses would park in the back of the Horseshoe Café and travelers would enter the café through the rear of the café to use the restroom facilities and dine in the dining room.

Next door to the west was the San Pedro Motel for those travelers that wished to spend time in Benson or transfer to later busses on another route.

After the second story was added the Horseshoe Café looked much as it does today with only minor changes to the dining area with walls that added a small bar and small separate dining area.

Begining with the bypass of Benson by interstate I-10 came the demise of most of the tourist facilities including many of the 18 motels that lined 4th street including the latest victim, the Benson Motel (formerly Camp Benson) in April 2017. Now only the historic Arnold Hotel building circa 1907 which hasn’t been in operation for at least three quarters of a century, a couple of the motels in east Benson, formerly the Monterey and El Cochise motels, the Mountain Air motel and Quarter Horse motel and the Oasis motel in west Benson. The Sahara Motel was built in the 1960s in south Benson, and is still in operation. All the Benson and small town motels were victims of the building of I-10 or the evolution of the modern-day RV traveler.

The Greyhound Bus no longer has a depot, only a shaded lean-to on the corner of 4th and San Pedro St next to the caboose. The Amtrak train no longer has a depot, only a shaded lean-to next to the tracks near Patagonia St. The new face of 4th Street is a series of empty lots occupied by the ghosts of motels or gas stations of the past. Many empty store fronts line the south side of 4th Street where thriving mom and pop businesses use to provide the town of Benson with its livelihood.