Did you know that today is not just Valentine's Day, it is also the 100th anniversary of Arizona becoming a state? I hope you're not disappointed, but I thought perhaps I'd tell you a story about that instead of a Valentine's tale.
At the beginning of 1912, Arizona held a statehood convention in Prescott. Cowboys, ranchers, farmers, miners, and pioneers had been moving into the territory for decades, and they wanted to be recognized as an independent state. Prescott, a rip roaring frontier town, had served as the territorial state capitol, but it was now time to decide where the permanent capitol would be. Delegates were sent from all over to decide which city would get the honors. By this time the choices had been narrowed down to either Phoenix or Tucson. During the day the delegates would meet in convention, but at night they would partake of the many diversions available on Whisky Row, Prescott's main street.
There was one particular delegate from Tucson who had a glass eye. He was quite vain and took great pains to insure that his disability did not stand out. On the night before the final vote deciding where the new state capitol would be, this particular delegate spent the evening carousing on Whisky Row. Early in the morning he returned to his hotel with a female companion. The delegate carefully took out his glass eye and put it in a glass of water on the table by his bed, like he always did. During the night the lady woke up thirsty, picked up the glass, and gulped it down, glass eye and all. Since the Tuscon delegate refused to be seen in public without his glass eye, his vote was never cast. The count was close, but Phoenix won by one vote, and that is why Phoenix is the capitol of Arizona. Or at least, that's what the old cowboys say.
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