EDITOR'S LETTER

It was an unusual letter.

It came from a woman in England. Several years ago. She'd written to ask if we could help her find a “cowboy husband.” Like most of the many letters sent to us in the 1950s, hers ended up in the hands of Iva May Flowers, a staff correspondent with the patience of a gardener and the reaction time of a hockey goalie. It was her job to write back to as many of those people as possible, including the woman in England, who was sent a detailed list of dude ranches in Arizona. Cowboy take me away. We get a lot of letters. From all over the world. And opening them is a sacred ritual for me, especially those that are handwritten. It's humbling to think that the work we do can inspire someone to sit down with a pen and a piece of paper, express their thoughts, seal them up, and send them our way.

“There will be romance in the letter's ride to you,” Emily Dickinson wrote. “Think of the hills and dales, and the rivers it will pass over, and the drivers and conductors who will hurry it on to you.” Boxy mail trucks and tracking numbers have done away with most of the romance, but, like neurotransmitters, the envelopes in the mailstream still carry important messages. Some of them are critical of our work, and some are uncharitable, but most are a warmhearted hug from a distant relative.

“I love sneaking out for an overnight adventure in our backyard mountains,” wrote Leif Video of Lander, Wyoming. “It's extra special when my 'night away' coincides with a fresh copy of Arizona Highways. My heart literally races as I turn the pages and daydream of all the great places I want to explore.” It's been like that since November 1937, when we published our first-ever Letters to the Editor page. At the top was a note from A.M. Lockhart of Long Beach, California.

“Arizona Highways is becoming so attractively attired and so interesting and instructive,” he wrote, “that I can go no further without handing you a well-deserved palm for all the good work you are doing. The content is excellent. I read most of the articles and certainly never fail to drink deeply in the pictures of Arizona's beautiful scenery. (My! My! What a lot of superlatives to come from a Californian.)” That was the first letter. One of the best came in 1959 from another Californian. “This letter,” wrote Miss June I. Prescott of Sacramento, “is a pleasure to write since I am requesting something that I have always wanted - a subscription to your wonderful magazine. Two years ago I regained the sight of one of my eyes through a cornea transplant, and very soon, I shall enter the hospital for another transplant and, if successful, will regain the sight in that eye. I have always said that some day when I have the use of both eyes I would want to feast them on the lovely, lovely sights and pictures that are in your magazine. I want to read your excellent articles, cut out your best photos, frame them, and adorn my walls with them so that I may really see and enjoy their beauty.” Mrs. Flowers would have handled that letter, as well. On a typical day in those days, we'd get about 200 handwritten letters, some of which arrived without a mailing address. One, from Poland, was sent in a blue airmail envelope with the words: “Arizona Highways, U.S.A.” That's it. Another was sent on June 18, 1963, from the mailroom at McCann-Erickson, the same New York ad agency that was villainized in Mad Men. At the top of the large envelope are the words: “Mr. Raymond Carlson, Editor.” On the second line is a sketch of the mythical phoenix, followed by “Arizona” on the third line.

“It got here without a bit of trouble,” Mr. Carlson said. I've never gotten anything like that. And I've never beenasked to rope a cowboy for a woman overseas, but I've gotten something better, from Ann Farrar, James Tuttle, Bev Showalter and others. Like heirloom Christmas ornaments wrapped in tissue, their letters too personal to publish are tucked away in one of my grandfather's old wooden cigar boxes. Someday, maybe, my daughters will find them and be grateful for the everlasting value of the written word, and the gracious subscribers who put a smile on their father's face.

“Let us be grateful to people who make us happy,” Proust said. “They are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.” November is when we take inventory of those gardeners the good people in our lives. Gratitude, however, extends beyond the fourth Thursday of the month. It certainly does at this magazine. Every day we make a toast to our readers around the world. To each of you, we are beholden. When you fill out your subscription card, order our license plate, or visit our online store to buy a book or a puzzle or a calendar or a holiday card, you're helping us live to be another year older. In a few months, we'll turn 100. On behalf of everyone at Arizona Highways, thank you. I wish you all a safe and happy Thanksgiving.

From all of us at Matt's Big Breakfast, we wish you a Happy Thanksgiving ...

And when you're planning your holiday meals this year, we'd encourage you to shop local. At Matt's, we believe that food tastes better when it's prepared simply, with better ingredients. That's why we feature the products of some of Arizona's hardest-working and most talented artisans, including McClendon's Select, Roastery of Cave Creek, Schreiner's Fine Sausage, Sterling Food Service, The Pork Shop and Wildflower Bread Company.

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