Tag Archives: arizona

Never Cross Over Train Tracks Into The Desert

Text: You should never cross over train tracks into the desert, especially at night.

Context: My roommate X, a current USC student, grew up in Arizona and recounted to me that when they were 12 they first learned this saying from other kids. They were playing with friends one night and a Nerf bullet was shot too far, landing on the other side of the nearby train tracks. X went to get the bullet and the other kids stopped them with the warning that they should never cross over the tracks into the desert. The kids said “it’s gone now” and explained that X would be “gone” too if they crossed. X heard the saying multiple times while living in Arizona, highlighting first hand accounts of others hearing the voices of loved ones who aren’t present or seeing glowing eyes in the dark. Each account of what was or could be on the other side was different but the message was consistently that you should not cross train tracks into the wilderness.

Interpretation: Upon hearing this, I immediately thought that this saying seems like a warning for children about the dangers of the Arizona wilderness or potentially just train safety. X’s story supported this because they mentioned it was common for children in the area to play near train tracks and the desert so it would make sense for parents to make up a reason as to why their children shouldn’t be near the train tracks. However, as we continued discussing, X made it clear that they heard the accounts of voices and glowing eyes at a much older age from adults who wholeheartedly believed what they saw. As seemingly a memorate, I think this saying could stem from the Native communities of Arizona because the reports of voices reminds me of Skinwalkers or spirits. The train tracks could represent the barrier between the danger/supernatural and safety/civilization.

The Lost Dutchman’s Mine

–Informant Info–

Nationality: American

Age: 53

Occupation: Senior VP for a development company

Residence: Pheonix, Ariozna

Date of Performance/Collection: 2022

Primary Language: English

Other Language(s): N/A

(Notes-The informant will be referred to as MW and the interviewer as K)

Background info: MW is a father of 2 who grew up and now resides in Pheonix, Arizona. I was told this story over the phone.

K: So, what’s the uh title of the story? And how do you know it? Like who told it to you or where did you like hear it?

MW: It’s called The Lost dutchman’s mine, and I heard about it from uh…my parents and friends, I guess

K: It’s one of those things you just kind of always hear? Is it like a fireside story or…?

MW: Yeah, yeah. It’s definitely a fireside story, but not really like…scary, ya know? Just a story you hear around.

K: Ok cool, uh…whenever you’re ready to tell it, go-ahead

MW: So the story goes that uh…way back in the 1800s, like during gold rush time there was an uh…Dutch guy that came down to Arizona. One day he went into an uh…bar or something in the settlement with this huge *exaggerates voice here for emphasis* chunk of gold. Everyone asked him where it came from, and he uh refused to uh tell them outright. He only left one hint for people.

K: What was the hint?

MW: Oh uh…It was like…you could see the entrance of the mine from weaver’s needle which is a mountain in Arizona. It’s like an uh peak that looks like the eye of a needle

K: So, has anyone found it? Or has anyone gone like looking for it?

MW: Oh yeah! Loads have gone looking; I think like 2 or 3 people have even died from trying to find it, but no one has found it yet.

K: So, do people actually believe in it? Or is it more of a fun let’s go look kinda adventure?

MW: Like most stories, I guess there are always believers, most people uh…go hik8ing up in the mountains to try and find it in like..highschool or right before college though *laughter* I remember doing it with my friends when I was like 16 or 17.

K: Oh! So there’s a right of passage aspect to it?

MW: Sometimes yeah, definitely.

Interpretation:
I really enjoyed hearing this story. It, at least from my perspective, did encompass the American dream in a sense. The idea of both the gold rush, which has long been held as a pinnacle of American determination and achievement, and the idea of adventure and finding a long-lost mine combine to form, as stated, a tale of the American dream in a sense. Another aspect I want to note is the coming of age part of the story. This story, at least according to the informant, dates back to his great-grandfather. That part of the story represents a lot of long-held more conservative beliefs. Arizona, for a very long time, has held conservative values. The informant noted that it was really only high school boys who went to try and find the mine as a coming of age process. Even later on in life, it was mainly men who attempted. The idea of a rugged mine full of riches hidden deep within the scorching mountains, and someone going to find it, is very traditionally masculine.

“Bread and butter.”

G is a 50-year-old Caucasian female originally from Phoenix, Arizona. G is a retired school teacher.

G offered this piece of folklore during a phone conversation. I asked G if she had any folklore she would be willing to share with me, and she offered me this superstition she remembered from her childhood.

G: One funny thing growing up was um, if you’re walking with somebody and you split a pole, you would say “bread and butter.”

Reflection: I have not heard of this superstition before, but it reminds me of other phrase based superstitions like saying ”knock on wood” or ”rabbit rabbit” to negate bad luck or engender good luck, respectively. Assuming that saying ”bread and butter” is also luck related, perhaps the phrase nullifies any potential bad luck associated with being forced to separate by an obstacle. The wording of the superstition also appears to nod to the idea that bread and butter are most ideally eaten as a pair (toast), rather than being eaten as separate ingredients. In the same way, people are implied to be better suited together rather than apart by the superstition.

Legend of the owl.

H is a Caucasian-Native-American male originally from Tucson, Arizona. H is currently a corporate manager based in Austin, Texas.

H performed this folklore while visiting LA on a business trip. I met H in Downtown LA for lunch in order to collect folklore he had previously agreed to perform for me. The following is the second of two stories he provided. H first heard the following story from his grandfather.

H: Another legend is of the owl. The Apaches have nothing to do with owls, they see them as the night creature and if you see an owl, you run, my Grandfather would stop if we saw an owl and the trip would be over. The big owl in the Apache stories was evil, he was a giant. Sometimes he was man-like. They were able to paralyze humans with their stare or they could cry and everyone who heard it it was like thunder, and it would cause you to stop, uh, some owls were seen as cannibals and they would eat children, and so you avoided them. The Apaches claimed that the big owl was the sun of the sun, and.. when he was slain, his body hit the earth and his feathers flew off in every direction and those feathers transformed the owl that now live in the forest. And if you saw an owl, you turned and went home.

Reflection: Owls in Apache culture appear to have the same negative connotations that crows have in European culture. As far as I know, crows are not perceived the same way in Apache culture, so I find it interesting that their culture happens to consider the owl, a different type of bird, an evil portent. Based on H’s detail that owls in Apache legend have the power to paralyze people with their cries, there appears to be a direct link between how unsettling or intimidating a bird sounds and how it is perceived across European and Native American cultures. The deep “hoots” of an owl are an evil omen just as the harsh “caws” of a crow are associated with death in European culture.

Story of the Salt River.

H is a 50-year-old Caucasian-Native-American male originally from Tucson, Arizona. H is currently a corporate manager based in Austin, Texas.

H performed this folklore while visiting LA on a business trip. I met H in Downtown LA for lunch in order to collect folklore he had previously agreed to perform for me. The following is the first of two stories he provided.

H: This is a story of the Salt River, as told by my Grandfather, a member of the White Mountain Apache Tribe. The Apaches did not call themselves Apache. The called themselves “Dene,” or “people.” The term Apache comes from the Zuni for “Apachu” or “the enemy.” Well the Apaches were raiders and warriors, but overtime they settled in Northern Arizona in the Mogollon Rim.. and led peaceful lives.. hunting, fishing.. and living off the land. They battled the Spaniards, and then ultimately the Calvary.. And the government came in and took their land, they acquiesced and lived on the reservation. And the treaty they signed so they could stay on the reservation as long as the grass grew and the rivers ran.. One group of Apache’s however, refused to sign the treaties. And they lived in a basin. The Apaches called them “Tonto,” or “fools” for continuing to fight. That basin the “Tonto Basin,” is ultimately where the Salt River is. The creek that was found was named “Tonto Creek,” but ultimately became the Salt River. As the Calvary tried to capture their chief, Del Shay, they were unable to do so. They fought fiercely, they tried to shoot him, and poison him. But ultimately, the Federal Government gave a few silver dollars to one of Del Shay’s nephews, to kill him. And they went into town-camp, took his head, and brought it back to the Calvary. His wife it is said, cried for a hundred days and her tears filled the river of the Tonto Basin and turned it salty. And forevermore, the Tonto Basin river remains salty from her tears with the Calvary capturing her people and killing her husband.

Reflection: I was impressed with H’s telling of this creation myth, as I could tell he had the whole story well-memorized and rehearsed. I was also able to gain a greater appreciation for the Salt River, a body of water with great significance where I grew up in Arizona. The way the story links American violence against the Apache and a permanent change to the landscape (Tonto Basin becoming forever salty) appears to be a symbolic microcosm of how American atrocities against the Native Americans wrought irrevocable consequences for all their land and people.