A history of the railroad in Tucson, Arizona, covers the years of expansion in the late 19th century through the profitable early 20th until the decline of the 1950s, exploring both the passenger and freight industries, the men and women who worked for the railroads in Tucson, and how the railway affected the community.

Available in paperback October 2008! The Southern Pacific of Mexico was a U.S.Ðowned railroad that operated between 1898 and 1951, running from the Sonoran town of Nogales, just across the border from Arizona, to the city of Guadalajara, stopping at several northwestern cities and port towns along the way. Owned by the Southern Pacific Company, which operated a highly profitable railroad system north of the border, the SP de Mex transported millions of passengers as well as millions of tons of freight over the years, both within Mexico and across its northern border. However, as Daniel Lewis discloses in this thoroughly researched investigation of the railroad, it rarely turned a profit. So why, Lewis wonders, did a savvy, money-minded U.S. corporation continue to operate the railroad until it was nationalized by the Mexican government more than a half-century after it was constructed? Iron Horse Imperialism reveals that the relationship between the Mexican government and the Southern Pacific Company was a complex one, complicated by MexicoÕs defeat by U.S. forces in the mid-nineteenth century and by SPÕs failure to understand that it was conducting business in a country whose leaders were ambivalent about its presence. Lewis contends that SP executives, urged on by the media of the day, operated with a reflexive imperialism that kept the company committed to the railroad long after it ceased to make business sense. Incorporating information discovered in both Mexican and American archives, some of which was previously unavailable to researchers, this comprehensive book deftly describes the complicated, decades-long dance between oblivious U.S. entrepreneurs and wary Mexican officials. It is a fascinating story.

Casa Grande, Arizona, is located on desert and farmland between Tucson and Phoenix and began as the end of an unfinished railroad line--thus its early name, Terminus. On May 19, 1879, when early summer heat halted construction of the railroad in what would soon become Casa Grande, only three buildings and five residents constituted the town. The names reflect the ethnic diversity of the sparse population: Buckalew, Ochoa, Smith, Watzlavocki, and Fryer. In September 1880, executives of the Southern Pacific Railroad Company named the town Casa Grande after the prehistoric Hohokam Indian ruins located 20 miles to the east. This volume illustrates how a desert railroad stop grew into a city. Today, as Casa Grande's population increases, new neighborhoods, schools, malls, and entertainment venues provide exciting new reasons for living here. However, as the population grows, the town struggles to retain its identity as an agricultural community.

Originally a presidio on the frontier of New Spain, Tucson was a Mexican community before the arrival of Anglo settlers. Unlike most cities in California and Texas, Tucson was not initially overwhelmed by Anglo immigrants, so that even until the early 1900s Mexicans made up a majority of the town's population. Indeed, it was through the efforts of Mexican businessmen and politicians that Tucson became a commercial center of the Southwest. Los Tucsonenses celebrates the efforts of these early entrepreneurs as it traces the Mexican community's gradual loss of economic and political power. Drawing on both statistical archives and pioneer reminiscences, Thomas Sheridan has written a history of Tucson's Mexican community that is both rigorous in its factual analysis and passionate in its portrayal of historic personages.

Tucson is a history of time and a river. The roots of prehistoric habitation run deep along the Santa Cruz River, reaching back thousands of years. Later the river attracted 17th-century Spanish explorers, who brought military government, the church, and colonists to establish the northern outpost of their New World empire. Later still, American westward expansion drew new settlers to the place called Tucson. Today Tucson is a bustling multicultural community of more than one million residents. These images from the photographic archives of the Arizona Historical Society tell the stories of individuals and cultures that transformed a 19th-century frontier village into a 20th-century desert city.

Native-born Roy P. Drachman gives a personal account of how Tucson, southern Arizona, and the entire state have grown and developed in his lifetime. As a real estate developer, community activist, and philanthropist, the author is able to provide a behind-the-scenes look at some of the changes.

"Early Danish Pioneers: Southern Arizona Territorial Days" is an account of the Viking spirt that brought many Danes who were miners, soldiers, ranchers, business men, railroaders and community builders to southern Arizona. Their hard-scrabble living is riveting t and their trials of treking over this unforgiving terrain of the Sonoran Desert. Researchers, geneologists and historians find these stories provide a vivid picture of the Wild West.

A history of the Four Corners states during their formative territorial years. Newly revised edition.

Few American towns went untouched by World War II, even those in remote corners of the country. During that era, the federal government forever changed the lives of many northern Arizona citizens with the construction of the U.S. Army ordnance depot at Bellemont, ten miles west of Flagstaff. John Westerlund now tells how this linchpin in the war effort marked a turning point in Flagstaff's history. One of only sixteen munitions depots built between 1941 and 1943, the Navajo Ordnance Depot contributed significantly to the city's rapid growth during the war years as it brought considerable social, cultural, and economic change to the region. A clearing in the ponderosa pine forest called Volunteer Prairie met the military's criteria for a munitions depot—open terrain, a cool climate, plentiful water, and proximity to a railroad—and it was also sufficiently inland to be safe from the threat of coastal invasion. Constructing a depot of 800 ammunition bunkers, each the size of a 2,000-square-foot home, called for a force of 8,000 laborers, and Flagstaff became a boom town overnight as construction workers and their families poured in from nearby Indian reservations and as far away as the Midwest and South. More than 2,000 were retained as permanent employees—a larger workforce than Flagstaff's total pre-war employment roster. As Westerlund's portrait of wartime Flagstaff shows, prosperity brought unanticipated consequences: racism simmered beneath the surface of the town as ethnic groups were thrown together for the first time; merchants called a city-wide strike to protest emerging union activity; juvenile delinquency rose dramatically; Flagstaff women entered the workforce in unprecedented numbers, altering local mores along with their own plans for the future; meanwhile, hundreds of sailors and marines arrived at Arizona State Teachers College to participate in the Navy's "V-12" program. Whether recounting the difficulty of 3,500 Navajo and Hopi employees adjusting to life off the reservation or the complaints of townspeople that Austrian POWs-transferred to the depot to ease the labor shortage-were treated too well, Westerlund shows that the construction and maintenance of the facility was far more than a military matter. Navajo Ordnance Depot remained operational to support wars in Korea, Vietnam, and the Persian Gulf, and today Camp Navajo provides storage for thousands of deactivated ICBM motors. But in recounting its early days, Westerlund has skillfully blended social and military history to vividly portray not only a city's transitional years but also the impact of military expansion on economic and community development in the American West.