EDITOR'S LETTER

editor's LETTER Every man has his own destiny,

Henry Miller said. Neil Koppes met up with his in 1973. He didn't see it coming, though. He couldn't have. Like that landmark day in Liverpool when Ivan Vaughan introduced his friend John to another friend named Paul, it began as an ordinary conversation. A routine exchange between an editor and a photographer. It would have gone something like this: Joe Stacey: “Good morning, Neil. I have an interesting piece of art that needs to be photographed. Do you have some time?” Neil Koppes: “Yes, of course. I'll swing by your office sometime this afternoon and pick it up.” The piece, which had been sitting on our editor's desk for about a month, is a 22-inch bison skull overlaid with 9,000 carats of natural turquoise.

“My father picked it up and brought it back to his studio,” says Kathy O'Malley, the photographer's daughter. “It was extremely expensive, and he was worried about someone breaking in and stealing it. He was worried about dropping it, too, and not having enough insurance. And he was worried about us kids. On Friday nights we'd go bowling and go out for pizza. I remember him taking us to the studio one night after getting pizza, but we weren't allowed to get too close to the skull - we could look, but we couldn't touch. He didn't want it there any longer than it had to be.” The next day, Mr. Koppes returned the art, and a few weeks later, his image became the cover photo of our January 1974 issue. It was a notable departure from our ritualistic offering of purple mountain majesties, but we were boxed in by geopolitics.

If you were around in the fall of 1973, you might remember that Arab oil producers had cut off exports to the United States as a way of protesting American military support for Israel, which was at war with Egypt and Syria. The embargo led to inflated gas prices and long lines at gas stations. In addition to the inconvenience, the gas shortage crippled the tourism industry and compromised our mission, which is to help readers hit the road. In response to what was happening, Mr. Stacey, our editor, went looking for something other than traditional travel journalism. And he found it.

Known today as “the turquoise issue,” our January 1974 edition is focused entirely on the history and culture of turquoise jewelry in the Southwest. And on the cover is Mr. Koppes' photograph of that 9,000-carat bison skull, which was created by Dee Morris, an Anglo silversmith who was raised by a Navajo family in Ganado. The piece is titled Last of the Herd, and it's on display at the Ninibah Gallery in Sedona - the gallery that Mr. Morris opened at Tlaquepaque in 1973. The piece was never sold, despite many lucrative offers.

The magazine, however, sold out. Over and over. Ultimately, we went back to the printer three times and sold more than a million copies - it remains the biggest-selling issue in the history of Arizona Highways.

“My father was proud to be a part of that achievement,” Kathy says. “He always kept a hardbound copy of the issue on his coffee table, and whenever people would ask him about it, he'd smile and say, 'I took that picture.” Sadly, Mr. Koppes passed away in August at the age of 85, just a few months after his beloved wife, Judy.

“I was sorry to hear about Neil,” says Paul Markow, a longtime contributor. “He was one of my early mentors. My dad had given him a job, and he worked for my dad for several years - until he couldn't pay him what he was worth. At that point, Neil went out on his own and became one of my dad's competitors. Neil was a great guy, and we bowled together on the Markow Photography team. He was a better bowler than me.” “I still have so many questions,” Kathy says. “But now he's not here to ask. It makes me sad.” She smiles, though, whenwe talk about the timeless nature of that issue. “I think he'd be tickled pink to know that people are still talking about it,” she says. “And grateful.” We're grateful, too. For all of Mr. Koppes' contributions over the years. November is the month we take inventory of the good things around us. Gratitude, however, extends beyond the national holiday. At this magazine, we're grateful every day for our many readers around the globe. To each of you, we are sincerely beholden. When you fill out your subscription card, order our license plate, or visit our online store to buy a book or a calendar or a Christmas orna-ment, you're helping us live to be another year older.

On behalf of everyone at Arizona Highways, thank you. I wish you all a safe and happy Thanksgiving.