Cochise Hotel
By SANDRA SCOTT AND SAMANTHA CHAPNICK
Exploits of cowboy and Indians have been relegated to the pages of books. Or have they?
There’s a place in Arizona only a short dusty detour from Interstate 10 and US 191 where causal conversation includes talk of Cochise, Geronimo, train robbers, John Wayne, and Alan Ladd, as if they were last week’s news. In the almost-ghost town of Cochise – population 24 - the Cochise Hotel witnessed train robberies, provided bed and board to film crews. The hotel saw the area change from the wild days of the Indian wars to the present where the biggest excitement is watching the desert wind whips up dust devils. It is big news in town when a visitor arrives - most often because of a wrong turn.
The creak of the Cochise Hotel’s wrought iron gate that opens to small unkempt garden in front of the side entrance makes one wonder when the last guest visited the hotel. Carla Adams, the manager, often in period dress, greets expected guests with "Howdy! Come on in. I am just taking cookies out of the oven. Dinner will be ready at 6." Carla is not an old crone from the past but a vivacious person trying to preserve the past that is part of her family’s history.
The dining room chalkboard that list the menu of the day: railroad steak, jack rabbit fodder, spuds, and pullman’s biscuits. In plain talk dinner is usually steak, vegetables, potatoes and rolls, just good old ranch fare. While Carla cooks a cowboy-size 16-ounce T-bone steak, she explains, "Big Nose Kate, Doc Holliday’s girlfriend, waited table at the hotel. However, she was not allowed to ply her more notorious wares. What Big Nose Kate did when she wasn’t working at the Cochise Hotel is another story. You needs to go to Tombstone to learn about that." After dinner at the same large farm table where John Wayne and Alan Ladd ate 50 years ago, Carla continues to share the history of the hotel, the town and the area. It is a history lesson without a test at the end.
Chiricahua Apache chiefs, Cochise and Geronimo, may be legends to some but not to Carla. "Grandma knew and respected Cochise. She said he always told the truth. She didn’t like Geronimo and I can’t repeat what she said about him. Cochise’s Stronghold is only a 30-minute car ride away – less on horseback." One story follows another. The distinction between the "good guys" and "bad guys" become fussy as familiar names from the history book take on personalities.
The hotel has not shut its doors since it opened 1882. Faded photos on the wall in the dining room show women in long prairie dresses in front of the hotel. Outwardly little has changed. If the Cochise Hotel looks familiar it is because it starred in many westerns including "12:10 to Yuma" with Alan Ladd. The train station is long gone and train no longer stops in front of the hotel. With a stepped false-fronted second floor and L-shaped western-style porch the white washed adobe Cochise Hotel has made it on the National Historic Registry. The adobe structure has been repaired and thankfully air conditioning has been added to make staying in the hotel tolerable during the desert summer. The hotel advertises "honest beds" whatever that means. The bedsteads are vintage may be that makes them honest, but now they sport newfangled plush mattresses covered with handmade quilts. No longer are the flowery pitchers and basins used for washing. Nearly every room has a private bathroom. What are they like? Don’t asked and be thankful that the flush toilets are indoors and showers have hot water.
One hundred years ago when trains arrived on schedule the hotel and town were filled with people and excitement. Today there is no television, no Internet, and surprisingly, no boring moments. There are too many things to examine from when the hotel was the "everything" place. Every room has something to see from albums to pictures to books to vintage clothing. Carla always has time to give a story-telling tour showing off the telegraph office where the tap-tap of messages being sent and received was an ever-present sound, the Wells Fargo safe that held gold and silver, and a tufted couch reputed to have belonged to Jenny Lind. The Victorian antiques still in daily use will be the envy of the knowledgeable collector who mentally calculate their value. In the backyard one of the outbuilding is hung with a curtain of dusty brown and green bottles. Why? "They look pretty when the sun shines on them. Grandma liked them." Bales of hay are stacked to resemble steer so visitors can practice roping.
Carla recommends, "Before you leave you have to visit Bonnie’s old Homestead Museum and Antiques. It’s right next door." Amid the flotsam of local relics that range from worn saddles to bunny cookie jars, Bonnie Samuel’s points to man in a framed news clipping announcing the capture of train robbers. "If great-uncle Matt hadn't gotten greedy and robbed the second train he probably would have gotten away with his first train robbery." As the story unfolds it turns out great-uncle Matt was not only a train robber he was also the local lawman.
The Cochise Hotel has earned its peace and quiet. Nowadays hours quickly slide by sitting in the rocking chair on the front porch waiting for the train to pass by, eating hearty ranch cookin’, stargazing, sunset watching, and listening to personal stories of Cochise - the hotel, the man, and the county.
There’s a place in Arizona only a short dusty detour from Interstate 10 and US 191 where causal conversation includes talk of Cochise, Geronimo, train robbers, John Wayne, and Alan Ladd, as if they were last week’s news. In the almost-ghost town of Cochise – population 24 - the Cochise Hotel witnessed train robberies, provided bed and board to film crews. The hotel saw the area change from the wild days of the Indian wars to the present where the biggest excitement is watching the desert wind whips up dust devils. It is big news in town when a visitor arrives - most often because of a wrong turn.
The creak of the Cochise Hotel’s wrought iron gate that opens to small unkempt garden in front of the side entrance makes one wonder when the last guest visited the hotel. Carla Adams, the manager, often in period dress, greets expected guests with "Howdy! Come on in. I am just taking cookies out of the oven. Dinner will be ready at 6." Carla is not an old crone from the past but a vivacious person trying to preserve the past that is part of her family’s history.
The dining room chalkboard that list the menu of the day: railroad steak, jack rabbit fodder, spuds, and pullman’s biscuits. In plain talk dinner is usually steak, vegetables, potatoes and rolls, just good old ranch fare. While Carla cooks a cowboy-size 16-ounce T-bone steak, she explains, "Big Nose Kate, Doc Holliday’s girlfriend, waited table at the hotel. However, she was not allowed to ply her more notorious wares. What Big Nose Kate did when she wasn’t working at the Cochise Hotel is another story. You needs to go to Tombstone to learn about that." After dinner at the same large farm table where John Wayne and Alan Ladd ate 50 years ago, Carla continues to share the history of the hotel, the town and the area. It is a history lesson without a test at the end.
Chiricahua Apache chiefs, Cochise and Geronimo, may be legends to some but not to Carla. "Grandma knew and respected Cochise. She said he always told the truth. She didn’t like Geronimo and I can’t repeat what she said about him. Cochise’s Stronghold is only a 30-minute car ride away – less on horseback." One story follows another. The distinction between the "good guys" and "bad guys" become fussy as familiar names from the history book take on personalities.
The hotel has not shut its doors since it opened 1882. Faded photos on the wall in the dining room show women in long prairie dresses in front of the hotel. Outwardly little has changed. If the Cochise Hotel looks familiar it is because it starred in many westerns including "12:10 to Yuma" with Alan Ladd. The train station is long gone and train no longer stops in front of the hotel. With a stepped false-fronted second floor and L-shaped western-style porch the white washed adobe Cochise Hotel has made it on the National Historic Registry. The adobe structure has been repaired and thankfully air conditioning has been added to make staying in the hotel tolerable during the desert summer. The hotel advertises "honest beds" whatever that means. The bedsteads are vintage may be that makes them honest, but now they sport newfangled plush mattresses covered with handmade quilts. No longer are the flowery pitchers and basins used for washing. Nearly every room has a private bathroom. What are they like? Don’t asked and be thankful that the flush toilets are indoors and showers have hot water.
One hundred years ago when trains arrived on schedule the hotel and town were filled with people and excitement. Today there is no television, no Internet, and surprisingly, no boring moments. There are too many things to examine from when the hotel was the "everything" place. Every room has something to see from albums to pictures to books to vintage clothing. Carla always has time to give a story-telling tour showing off the telegraph office where the tap-tap of messages being sent and received was an ever-present sound, the Wells Fargo safe that held gold and silver, and a tufted couch reputed to have belonged to Jenny Lind. The Victorian antiques still in daily use will be the envy of the knowledgeable collector who mentally calculate their value. In the backyard one of the outbuilding is hung with a curtain of dusty brown and green bottles. Why? "They look pretty when the sun shines on them. Grandma liked them." Bales of hay are stacked to resemble steer so visitors can practice roping.
Carla recommends, "Before you leave you have to visit Bonnie’s old Homestead Museum and Antiques. It’s right next door." Amid the flotsam of local relics that range from worn saddles to bunny cookie jars, Bonnie Samuel’s points to man in a framed news clipping announcing the capture of train robbers. "If great-uncle Matt hadn't gotten greedy and robbed the second train he probably would have gotten away with his first train robbery." As the story unfolds it turns out great-uncle Matt was not only a train robber he was also the local lawman.
The Cochise Hotel has earned its peace and quiet. Nowadays hours quickly slide by sitting in the rocking chair on the front porch waiting for the train to pass by, eating hearty ranch cookin’, stargazing, sunset watching, and listening to personal stories of Cochise - the hotel, the man, and the county.
