Phoenix, Arizona, wasn't a very big city back at the beginning of the 1900's, but it was a lot bigger than Mesa, where my grandma, Ethel, was born. It was twelves miles away, and going to visit Phoenix was a big occasion. Ethel's Papa would put on his best suit and harness the horses, Lib and Fly, to the surrey, then start out right after breakfast. Everyone hoped the river wasn't too high because there was no bridge across it.
Late in the afternoon we began to watch the road for we knew papa would soon be coming and hidden away somewhere in the surrey would be something nice for us, maybe a string of bananas or rosy red apples or oranges. Sometimes it was a storybook with pretty pictures in it, and then how excited we were!
One morning when our dishes were done and the kitchen floor swept my sister and I took our book and ran out to the wide-spreading branches of the fig tree for a cool, quiet place to enjoy our book. We were barefooted because it was summer time. Out along the path we flew, trying to see who could get there first, when, what do you know? A big old garden snake came crawling across the path just in time for me to step square onto him. Which do you think was the most surprised? The snake ran quickly into the bushes but me oh my! I nearly died of fright and scampered up the tree double quick. I couldn’t keep my mind on the story my sister read for thinking about that old snake. I hoped he wasn’t hurt too badly because snakes are our friends. They keep the mice and gophers out of our gardens.
By and by some Indians stopped for some figs and we climbed down to get them. Mama let us keep the money from the figs we sold. After their baskets were full and they went to climb back into their wagon one of them saw the old snake in the bushes nearby. When I told them what had happened they laughed and laughed. I wondered who they thought the joke was on. Me or the snake.
When I was a little girl the Indians often came during the fruit season to help pick the grapes, peaches, and apricots, which we dried and sold in the mining towns about the state.
The grapes were just spread onto drying trays, but the peaches and apricots were cut in half and spread on the trays in the sun. They had to be turned and sulphured in the process. There was lots of work to be done.
Sometimes the children came. Then we had fun playing hide and go seek or hop scotch or jump the rope. At first the children were very bashful but they soon were good playmates and always jolly and quick to catch on.
At noon mama gave them milk for their lunch, which they poured over sue tic (parched ground corn) which they brought in a pottery jug. After lunch they always laid down and had a nap under our big umbrella trees in our front yard.
My older brothers used to trade things for their bows and arrows. One day all the boys in our neighborhood had a sham battle on our straw stack and one of them got hit in the eye with an arrow. Fortunately, it did no damage and was soon healed, but that put an end to playing with arrows.
The Indians often went by our place riding their ponies bare back to hunt rabbits in the mesquite thicket below the base line. For many years the Indians came to visit with us. We loved them, they are a noble people.
(excerpt from memoirs of Ethel H. Stewart)
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