by Kris Neri
Anyone familiar with my books should know I like writing about quirky people and places, but in real life, I admire quirky towns, too. Places that radiate an offbeat, whimsical spirit.
My favorite quirky town is Jerome, Arizona. A small town nestled in the Black Hills overlooking the Verde Valley and Sedona, Jerome sprang to life in the 1880s, when someone discovered it contained a billion dollars’ worth of copper below the surface. Before long, the population of that tiny spec of a town clinging to the side of a hill,
soared to 15,000 (today it’s around 500). To keep its miners happy, mine owners created diversions for workers stuck in what was the middle of nowhere. By the 1920s, Jerome sported a clubhouse, an opera house, and a staggering number of restaurants, including as many as fourteen Chinese eateries — along with a thriving red-light district. It was its red-light district that caused Jerome to be known in its heyday as “the wickedest town in the west.”
Today, it’s a thriving artists’ colony, with unusual shops and one-of-a-kind galleries. It’s also a place that celebrates its unique character in all kinds of ways. The owners of one house set down the hill decorate the entrance to their street-level driveway with four flamencos, adorned in clothing designed to celebrate whatever season we happen to be in. I don’t know the owners and couldn’t say how they describe their unusual greeters, but I call those flamencos “the girls,” and I love catching sight of whatever they happen to be wearing. Here’s how they look dressed in their Christmas finery:
By New Year’s Eve, it'll be top hats and blingy dresses.
Jerome also brings whimsy to its flaunting of its wicked past. There’s a plaque posted next to what was
known as “Husband’s Alley,” a narrow space between buildings that allowed gentlemen to disappear fast after leaving houses of prostitution. And businesses will often take the name of the former bordello they occupy, such as a gift shop known as the “House of Joy.”
Its naughty past even plays a key role in its holiday celebration. Most homes and stores, in addition to whatever traditional lighting they’ve used, now also sport large letters that read: H-O. “Ho” for Santa
Claus’s “ho-ho-ho,” of course, and also for its past with…well, so many hos. HOs in every window and perched on countless rooftops — how can you help but love that quirky charm?
HO to you and yours this holiday season
Do you also harbor a love for quirky places? Tell us about your favorites.
Big Butter Jesus near Monroe Ohio visible from I-75. It was astonishing to see this huge figure from the chest up on the flat landscape. Heywood Banks memorialized it in song. When it was struck by lightening he got hundreds of e-mails and ultimately wrote a new final verse. (SeeYoutube). The church built another statute but it doesn't have the same impact
Posted by: Susan Neace | December 05, 2015 at 06:12 AM
I once covered a hot air balloon race in Helen, Georgia. it's a sort of German-inspired -decorated town Everything Bavarian. And we ate at the Taco Haus.
Posted by: Hank Phillippi Ryan | December 07, 2015 at 05:38 AM
are you sure those "flamencos" aren't really flamingoes?
Posted by: Mary | December 08, 2015 at 08:05 AM
Wow, Susan. I've never heard of it, so thanks for acquainting me.
Posted by: krisneri | December 11, 2015 at 06:04 AM
Taco Haus!? Fun, Hank! Thanks for sharing.
Posted by: krisneri | December 11, 2015 at 06:05 AM
Thanks for catching that, Mary...sigh. I wish I could say I've never made that flub before, but I always do.
Posted by: krisneri | December 11, 2015 at 06:05 AM