A History of Washington County

The new pioneers

10 THE NEW PIONEERS A, . new Dixie was struggling for birth after World War II, but the delivery took twenty years. From the return of soldiers in 1945 until the opening of the first golf course in Dixie twenty years passed. They were the same years that saw Palm Springs, California; Scottsdale, Mesa and Phoenix, Arizona; and Las Vegas, Nevada create a Southwest mecca, a magnet to the "sunshine lifestyle." Those twenty years were the time in Dixie for creating a new vision, one that would produce much more than a golf course, one that would create Dixie as a destination point for retirees and sun worshippers. Southern California had been the American glamour spot in the 1930s and 1940s. Many southern Utahns moved there to seek their fortunes, especially in the war industries. It continued to be a place of ranch-style homes, automobiles, ocean breezes, sunshine, and flourishing industry. After the war, the dry southwestern desert became highly attractive because air conditioning, entrepreneurs, and real-estate speculators came to extend the California-style develop­ments. The Phoenix-Mesa area became a haven for retirees who moved there from the Midwest and Pacific Northwest. (Florida was 301 302 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY becoming a similar attraction, mostly for Northeasterners.) During the birth of Sun City near Phoenix and the amazing development of Palm Springs and Las Vegas, southern Utah slumbered, even though it had the similar mild winters and enticing scenery. The World-War-II generation returned to southern Utah with new attitudes. They had been in Europe or the Pacific or at least in major American centers. Some of those who came back home felt in their bones that Dixie's isolation and agricultural ways were going to change. Some were anxious to promote that change; at least they wanted to make room for their generation. They intended to modify the austere farming lifestyle that had been the tradition of Dixie. One said: I decided in the army I was coming back to St. George and help the community become something new. There was an amaz­ing change here just during the war. There was a spirit about Dixie. One does not find that in the big time. That spirit motivated us in 1946.1 could see something could happen. I believed in it.1 This indigenous entrepreneurial attitude helped create a turning point in Dixie as it did in much of the United States. In Washington County the deep traditions did not facilitate quick change. The county was poor compared to much of the rest of the state; there were no heavy industries and large businesses. Dixie had missed the period of major outside investment that occurred in northern Utah between 1880 and 1930. Capital that came with the radroad and big mining did not come to Washington County. Capital accumulation was difficult, so the new generation had a real challenge. National programs were a help, especially the GI Bill that helped send a high percentage of the returning soldiers to codege and small federal loans that helped some of them start their own businesses. There was some investment by oil seekers and in the Apex Mine, but the county was not a place where absentee investors poured their funds. New Deal programs helped, but the tremendous investments in defense instal­lations during World War II in northern Utah also missed Washington County. The twenty years following World War II were a time of transi­tion for Dixie; they marked the birth of the area as a destination-a THE NEW PIONEERS 303 place where travelers would come in large numbers, where they would stay several days, maybe even months or permanently. It was a winter retreat, a recreation spot, a culture base, a business center, a retirement community-a world-level destination worthy of the Grand Canyon and Zion National Park. That was the vision, not unlike that which characterized Palm Springs, Scottsdale or even Las Vegas. Certainly no one person was its author. Anthony W. Ivins and Heber J. Grant urged part of the idea on people in the 1930s saying "bufld a golf course." As early as 1931 the Washington County News suggested a golf course as a way to lure tourists who came along Highway 91. Orval Hafen outlined the whole picture and took steps to give it a jump start by budding new homes and setting up a dude ranch, but the golf course had to wait for Neal Lundberg and Sid Atkin's promotionalism in the mid-1960s. The major elements were already in place-incomparable scenery, warm weather, a national highway, motels, restaurants-but attracting the capital for large projects was difficult. The state had moved beyond the colonial capital stage where outside investors con­trolled its fate, and into the period of home-owned development. Anything big would likely require Utah venturers with capital con­nections. What was needed were local entrepreneurs, people who took initiatives and risks. These were the new pioneers. By 1965 the gestation was over, and the new Dixie was about to be delivered-one the first pioneers could have hardly imagined-from movie making to industrial parks, airports to condominium communities, shopping malls to reservoirs, freeways to convention centers. Orval Hafen s St. George-Transition to Change One of the developers confided his aspirations to his journal. Beginning in 1932 and continuing to 1962, Orval Haven captured the hopes and the frustrations of the period. The theme of his journal is "discontent" with Dixie. He was convinced that people did not have to continue to live under the marginal conditions that had long con­strained the region. The time had come, he felt, where the good virtues of the solid folks in Dixie ought to produce a modest measure of plenty, if they could just catch the vision of economic possibdities. 304 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY He questioned whether he should stay in Dixie and help change the region or whether he should move to a larger playing field where better career opportunities awaited. His years studying law in Washington, D.C., and Berkeley, California, convinced him that he was capable of succeeding in the faster race. He had to decide what his life was for. The power of his journal is that this central question never subsided. In some ways his story represents a whole generation. Orval and his father, John Hafen, were symbolic of the changes com­ing to Dixie. John was widely respected for his virtues of honesty and hard work. Steady in his farming, he gradually accumulated large herds of cattle which he ranged in Bull Vadey west of Enterprise in the summer and near Beaver Dam in the winter. Despite his prosper­ity, he remained frugal to the end. Orval includes this anecdote as dlustration: One Sunday Ruth and I drove over to Santa Clara to visit father. He told us he had bought a new suit, but in looking him over, Ruth noticed the coat and pants didn't match. She called it to father's attention and asked, "Why is it you have on the coat from the new suit but the pants from another suit?" Dad said, "Wed, I just didn't want to come out in the new suit all at once."2 In comparison, Orval and Ruth represented the lifestyle of the new generation, taking their chddren on trips, trading in an old car for a new one regularly, and building a fine home on the hdl over­looking the city. They were not extravagant, but they were clearly from a different generation. John Hafen was hesitant to install a refrigerator or telephone, even though his means exceeded those of his son. Orval is said to have commented that he wanted a new car, he could afford a new car, and he deserved a new car, but it would be hard to justify to an all-Swiss jury. The vision we get of St. George through the eyes of Orval Hafen is of a community caught in scarcity. He opened his law office in 1930, seventy years following the settlement of St. George. In his eyes the community was still restrained by the limits of marginal agricul­ture. Arable land was scarce; farmers were constrained to work on small acreage. Surplus for obtaining material comforts was rare. Of even greater concern to Hafen was the fact that seventy years THE NEW PIONEERS 305 had taught the people of Dixie to accept those limitations. He knew why: many folks in Dixie valued other things above possessions- children, faith, character. The question was whether an improved economy would derail the people from their higher goals. Hafen occupied his time largely in promoting that economic development, but he often paused to assess whether the pioneer values were still intact. As early as 1935 Hafen had a rather clear vision of the new Dixie. Here is his first expression of it: If we are to believe the present signs of the times, it won't be long until much of the Intermountain West wdl be a vast playground for the nation. Dixie seems destined to undergo quite a change. Instead of the isolated little farms and cattle ranches, we maybe in the midst of a recreational center, which wdl entirely change our attitudes, our outlook, our associations, our opportunities. Boulder Dam is finished; the five-day week and the thirty-hour week are here; we are the gateway to the parks and playgrounds of Utah; in a few years yachts and pleasure boats will be plying the waters of Boulder Lake [Lake Mead]; thousands of people go to see the dam every month now; more will continue to come. Pine Valley Mountain, Zion Park, Bryce, Grand Canyon, and more parks to be created around us, wdl draw mdlions of people in the next few years. Our stockmen have been fighting this past winter with their backs to the wall; they are faced with the possibility of having their livestock industry driven out to make way for the sportsmen, hunters, and lovers of recreation. It is hard for them to see the handwriting on the wall.3 With the exception of not foreseeing the construction of Glen Canyon Dam and the resulting Lake Powell, Hafen hit the bullseye four decades before Dixie was ready to create golf courses, condo­miniums, retirement communities and other amenities to lure people to the area lifestyle. He watched Las Vegas become a dynamic center in a much less scenic place than Dixie, wielding influence with the federal government to get an air force base, atomic testing grounds, and a magnesium plant. He confided his amazement about the Las Vegas development to his journal. But visits to the glitzy casinos only increased his resolve to focus his life on raising his chddren in quiet 306 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY St. George: "[I] feel a bit sorry for the folks who crowd the divorce courts, and dedicate their time and their energies to getting some­thing for nothing. I guess we're just provincial, small-town folks."4 Despite these reflections, his discontent would not evaporate. One teding sentence suggested, "St. George doesn't figure much in the world's progress."5 His Swiss father, John, knew that his son had to be independent, but finally decided his patriarchal musings deserved expression. On 22 May 1936 this man of few words penned his heart to his son, almost in biblical tones: You are living in a goodly land, blessed in every way that you could desire, a beautiful home that should be the pride of your hearts, and friends on every hand and blessings, with more than you can do, living in the land of your birth. [,] The home of your kin[,] and yet you seek a land of strangers wherein to dwell. Why should this be so? Is it for wealth or fame that you are thus lured to seek a better place? The good master gave his life among his own and thus obtained a fame divine and why should you seek to leave home, country, kin and friends? Is it because their worth to you is less than strangers yet unknown? No, it must not be so. Your father, mother, brother, sister, all bid you stay to share their joys and woes. Will your happiness be greater to be separated from your kin and friends forever? Consider well this matter. Our people in this part of the country have need of you more so than anywhere else, and the grave of your infant son will have to be cared for by others. These sentiments and many more I want to cad to your attention. Father.6 Orval stayed, and he became a leader in state politics. His elec­tion to the Utah State Senate was a watershed for him; the senate was his venue. His ability with words, his financial acumen, his legal mind, and his vision, ad combined to thrust him quickly into leader­ship. He became not only an effective advocate for the county but a cogent thinker for the state as a whole. He was one of the designers of a new governance system for higher education in the state. He was the chief author of a bill creating a state parks system, one of which would later be Snow Canyon State Park. From his office at the state capital, Hafen thought as much about THE NEW PIONEERS 307 Dixie as when he was at home. The distance gave his thoughts per­spective, convincing him that his original vision was correct: While in Salt Lake I promoted the idea whenever, wherever and however I could, that Dixie's contribution to this intermoun-tain country was her unique combination of warm winter sunshine and lavish color. I have dreamed for many years of capitalizing on tiiis in the way of a winter resort, golf course, etc.7 This was eight years before the first golf course was built in St. George, twelve years before the birth of Bloomington's homes and condominiums. On New Year's Day 1958, Hafen wrote a lengthy appraisal of his efforts. He realized that the public expected leader­ship from him in Dixie, and he outlined what should be done: "I want to do something about getting a golf course established so that we can begin to attract people in the winter-time. If my building plans 'catch on' I would like to go on with my project and help the town grow in a planned way."8 Nine months later he continued that kind of commentary: "I can't get away from the feeling that the destiny of Dixie lies in her cli­mate and her scenery and that perhaps my mission is to help bring this about." Today Hafen's vision seems obvious-it is the Dixie everyone knows, but it hadn't come about in 1958. Zion Canyon, yes; Union Pacific's promotion of the parks had done that, but St. George was not yet a southwest haven. There were many obstacles: Yes, Dixie has many problems; it has been terribly isolated in the past; its people are limited in their contacts with the outside world; they are provincial in many ways; Dixie needs public and private finances; it needs industries and payrolls and more homes and more people. The old pioneers did their part in establishing a foothold in this forbidding, awesome land. That was their mission, and they accomplished it in spite of seemingly insurmountable obstacles. A new day and new problems are now moving on the stage. Someone must start out where they left off. There is SO MUCH to do to catch up with other sections of the state and with other states. This country is crying for leadership and bristling with opportunities.9 308 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY Ever the realist, Hafen did not get carried away with his dreams. Realities had to be faced. The cattle industry in Dixie was being severely constrained by government regulations about numbers of animals on the range; the sheep industry was gone. Mining was languishing; od prospects were dlusory. Some residents could not pay their telephone bills. People could not afford the homes Hafen was building in St. George. He was deeply hurt when good friends took his old option and moved away, some to Las Vegas, others to Salt Lake city or elsewhere. But there were occasional high points that sustained him. He was impressed with Juanita Brooks's biography of John D. Lee which dealt with the Mountain Meadows Massacre, the great tragedy in the Ufe of Lee and the whole region. Another upbeat moment was attending the first Shakespeare Festival in Cedar City in July 1962; he commented that the use of local talent did not hamper the quality of the perfor­mance. Listening to an autobiographical talk by the successful Hurricane businessman and rancher Emd Graff also moved Orval: "He made one arresting comment in his talk. He said 'we find ourselves here and we have to do what we can with what is here. It just happens that our lot is cast in this area, rather than somewhere else, and so we must try to see what opportunities are here and to develop them.'"10 One project which Hafen had no idea would be his last was the dream of a major tourist attraction. He purchased some land adja­cent to what had just become Snow Canyon State Park and dreamed of creating a tourist theme park. His ideas were bold-a tram to take people up over the red cliffs, buffalo steak meals, Indian goods for sale, a lodge, cabins, horse trads, and a golf course, perhaps one with­out grass. There would be pomegranates and dates, figs and pecans, maybe even camel rides." This man of practical matters actuady set about budding such a gamble. He succeeded in producing a wed that brought water to the surface. He spend hours digging ditches and was felled by a heart attack while doing so. The St. George we see today would not surprise Orval Hafen- the golf courses, the motels and restaurants, the condominiums and real estate developments, the airport, the conventions, the retirement communities and even the impressive tourist facdity, Tuacahn, on the very site of his Snow Canyon land, Padre Canyon. To some, these developments that began one year after his death (1964) may have THE NEW PIONEERS 309 seemed almost foreign to Dixie; but there was a generation that saw the potential and acted to create the new attitude and entrepreneur­ial possibdities. Orval Hafen was only one of these entrepreneurs, but he helps us understand the times because he wrote down his aspira­tions in three volumes. Snow Canyon State Park With Senator Orval Hafen wed placed in the legislature, it was an easier step to the next action. The state was actively involved in estab­lishing a state park system. Hafen, county commissioner Rudger Atkin, and Jim Lundberg encouraged Harold Fabian of the state parks commission to visit Dixie. They wanted to show him a pro­posed state park in Snow Canyon-the amazing concentration of sandstone cliffs and lava flows between Pine Vadey and St. George. The canyon was named for the Snow family who ranched there, including Erastus and Wdliam Snow and their descendants. It was a tourist's delight and had the great advantage of being conveniently located near St. George. During that visit, the team negotiated the state's purchase for $20,000 of Joseph Blake's 898-acre ranch in Diamond Valley. It was transferred to the state parks commission in 1959. Washington County had already donated 296 acres in the area to the state parks. Additional private tracts totalling 640 acres were purchased by the state in 1960. In 1964 the U.S. Bureau of Land Management trans­ferred title for 3,854 acres of federal land to the state of Utah, bring­ing the total park acreage to 5,688. The county and the state began improvements immediately, con­structing a water line to the area that is now the Shivwits camp­ground and improving Highway 18 through the park to Ivins. That work was completed in 1977, and hot showers were added to the campground in 1984. The park quickly became a popular site for tourists, in part because it was made famous by many western movies filmed in the park. Movie Making At age twenty-nine, Dick Hammer came to Dixie in 1933 after working in California. At first he was employed at the Beaver Dam 310 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY Lodge on Highway 91, later at the Liberty Hotel in St. George. He was a restless fellow who tended to be a promoter. He opened a ham­burger stand on the highway in downtown St. George when there was only one thin lane of hardtop with plenty of dust on either side. From his profits and savings, he expanded the site into the present Dick's Cafe. The atmosphere there was attractive not only to tourists and motel guests but also to locals. It has become a unique institu­tion, partly because of the movie, The Electric Horseman with Robert Redford, which featured the cafe's interior. It is also popular because movie stars congregated there, as well as a regular morning coffee bunch that spun yarns and talked politics. The fact that Hammer had a respectable portion of the tourist trade wasn't enough for him though. He looked for other opportu­nities which led him to Kanab. There the Parry brothers were attract­ing movie makers, with their actors and production crews staying at Parry's Lodge. Hammer wanted to be in on that kind of business. Before settling down in St. George, he had gone to Hollywood to try a movie career. He was trained as a stunt man and performed in sev­eral films, but that seemed like a dead end to him, so he drifted north. As a restaurateur, he thought of combining his two interests. Motel-owner Brown Hail became Hammer's partner in the movie-making idea; they didn't hesitate to ask the Parrys for their secret and the Parrys didn't mind sharing it. They told Hammer and Brown that the key was developing personal friendships with Hollywood producers and directors. The Parrys even told them whom to contact. Hammer and Hail engaged a photographer to shoot footage of Snow Canyon and other possible sites in Washington County. They took their film to Hollywood and met with cameramen at the major studios. They met a cool reception at first because the cameramen were not too impressed with the footage. Hammer's engaging personality and the Parry contacts gave them a chance to meet some producers, however. The cameramen advised their bosses to send them to the sites so they could shoot their own film. That was the turning point. In 1953 When a Man's a Man starring George O'Brien and Veronica Lake came to St. George to be filmed. Hammer and Hail moved into high gear. George Pace joined them, providing his motel THE NEW PIONEERS 311 to house the film crews. Their strategy was to impress the Hodywood crews. Clean accommodations and good meals became the formula: serve plenty of food hot and fast. Delivering a field kitchen with meals to the shooting site on time was crucial. They had to feed up to 500 people three times a day, sometimes catering from wagons, sometimes at the cafe. Each movie star had to be provided with a trailer and a waiter to serve meals, clean up, and provide personal attention. Most films needed cattle and horses. Had and Andy Pace contracted for the livestock. The enterprise involved the whole town. Hollywood companies hired scores of people in St. George-carpenters, painters, cattle and horse providers, and others to take bit parts or to be in crowd scenes. Hammer hired helpers for the big catering jobs. He spent much of his time glad-handing, and it paid off. He became a friend to stars and producers. He also took bit parts, often as a stunt man. Brown Had was a key force in the chamber of commerce and the Lions Club where Andy Pace was also active. They were locals who could win over the participation of the community. The business turned into a bonanza. Fdm companies didn't mind paying good prices for food and lodging; they wanted service more than cheap rates. Workers who came in with the film companies were good customers in local stores. Budding sets also brought plenty of business to town. Dick Hammer, Brown Hail, Karl Hutchings, Joe Hutchings, and Andy Lytle focused on moviemakers. Between 1953 and 1983, they provided food and lodging for dozens of films- movies which helped publicize Dixie. The red hills of Snow Canyon, Grafton, and Zion Canyon became standard fare in the nation's movie houses. The movie industry ended Dixie's isolation as people ad over the world began to make the region a prime tourist destina­tion. If Hodywood could come to Dixie, so could the whole world. At Dick's Cafe they could see the memorabilia of the films and meet Dick Hammer, who would ted his stories, especially of his continu­ing friendship with stars like John Wayne. Other stars who frequented Dick's Cafe included Jane Russell, Gabby Hayes, and Slim Pickens, but of them all, John Wayne built the strongest bond. He and Hammer became good friends and visited each other's homes. One HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY Snow Canyon movie location for The Conqueror. John Wayne is on horse­back and director Dick Powell, in white, is seated above. (Cuba Lyle Collection) time Wayne sent Hammer a gift, a pickup truck, because he thought the truck looked Idee it belonged in St. George with Hammer. Zion National Park was also a major attraction to movie makers. Pathe News had come there as early as 1913. J. L. Crawford reports that the first full-length movie made there was The Deadwood Coach by the Fox Company, starring Tom Mix in 1924. Shortly after that, THE NEW PIONEERS 313 Tom Mix in 1924 in Zion Canyon for the filming of The Deadwood Coach, one of the first full-length movies. (Wm. L. Crawford) between 1925 and 1929, two more films were made, Forlorn River and The Vanishing Pioneer.12 314 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY Industrial Parks In 1961 the Hawthorne Company, a manufacturer of camping gear, was seeking a location in the West to build a manufacturing plant to produce tents, sleeping bags, and backpacks. State officials suggested that St. George fit Hawthorne's criteria for size and loca­tion and notified the St. George Chamber of Commerce. Chamber leaders Bruce Stucki, Jim Lundberg, and Neal Lundberg went to St. Louis to inspect the home plant and invited the Hawthorne execu­tives to visit St. George two weeks later. When the trio returned to Dixie, they spent a feverish fortnight preparing a proposal for Hawthorne. Within those few days, they organized the Dixie Development Corporation, a publicly-owned corporation. Doyle Sampson sold stock to 120 people. They obtained an option on a piece of land and had it cleared for construction by the time of the visit. The visitors were impressed and soon negotiated a fifteen-year contract to lease a proposed budding and begin manu­facturing operations. With this contract in hand and $300,000 in stock sales, the corporation negotiated an $800,000 bank loan. They had a large warehouse-style budding completed for the 1962 move-in date. Hy Thomas, executive director of the chamber, Leon Jennings, and Dexter Snow were other officers of the corporation which existed solely to attract business to the area. None of the officers received a salary, and no stock has been put up for sale. Through later mergers, Hawthorne became known as the Kellwood Corporation; their products bore the Kelty label as wed as labels of some chain stores such as Sears. This employer brought a stable business to the community and has maintained a workforce of about 150 people since that time. Harold Hess has been its manager as well as a leader in the chamber of commerce. Over the years, the Dixie Development Corporation paid off its loan and added new portions to the building. Later it added other buildings in the industrial park area on the east end of town. Several private ventures such as the Rocky Mountain Company also moved to that location, creating a robust industrial area. Bruce Stucki remains as president of the Dixie Development Corporation, with Mansfield Jennings, Doyle Sampson, and John Palmer as officers. THE NEW PIONEERS 315 In 1992 the Dixie Development Corporation negotiated a ten-year lease for a $1.8-mdlion budding they had constructed with sim­ilar financing. Quality Park Products moved in and produces envelopes there. The building is located in a second industrial park developed in 1980 by St. George City under Mayor Grey Larkin. Other companies such as Ramco, producer of solenoids, are located in the new Mdlcreek Industrial Park near Pine View High School. Another industrial park is emerging near the freeway exit to Hurricane. Winding River Corporation was involved with Hurricane City and the Utah Division of Community and Economic Development in attracting Wal-Mart Corporation to locate a distrib­ution center there. They competed with Cedar City and Richfield for a site. It was necessary for Hurricane City to annex the land and pro­vide water and power to the complex. Road improvements also had to be made. In an amazingly short time, a massive warehouse was constructed and readied for occupancy in 1992. The Winding River Corporation is now seding land nearby for commercial use. The Sant Corporation is constructing a housing development that wdl occupy both sides of the highway and thus include both Washington City and Hurricane jurisdictions. The Red Hills Golf Course "What do you mean, budd a golf course? No one around here has any time to golf." That was the reaction of many frugal farmers in Dixie. Though pundits had been talking of golf since the 1930s, no one seemed able to overcome the majority opinion that life was for working, not playing. Even Dixie promoter Mormon church presi­dent (and golf player) Heber J. Grant had suggested that Dixie busi­nessmen invest in a golf course. In those early days the Washington County News editorialized on the golf course idea but it was a fleeting suggestion which did not catch on.13 Gradually the post-war genera­tion began to talk of it more seriously. More than once civic com­mittees met over lunch to ponder such a proposal. Out-of-town visitors kept the issue alive, often asking why St. George didn't have a course. The assumption was always that it would have to be a pri­vate venture. Several sites were considered-one in Washington, the present Southgate site, another on property east of town, and a 316 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY fourth southwest of St. George. The discussions never quite started the capital accumulation rolling though. In 1960 Jim Colbert, a professional golfer, was in town and con­tacted Sid Atkin, who was serving as president of the chamber of commerce. Colbert asked what he could do to help St. George get a golf course. That lit a fire in Atkin who had participated in several of the earlier conversations. He went to previous mayor Joe Atkin and sought advice about how to get the project going. Joe advised Sid that he needed a "workhorse" and a committee-the former to get the work done, the latter for input. Sid and Joe Atkin thought Neal Lundberg would be a prime workhorse. Lundberg agreed to join Sid Atkin on the project. Their next step was to commission Bruce Stucki, recently home from the University of Utah with a business degree, to do a formal feasibility study. He agreed and included an examination of two recently completed golf courses, one in Provo and the other in Price. He determined that they would need to sell forty rounds a day at $1.25 per round in order to generate $17,000 annually. Expenses would be $16,000, leaving a slight surplus. Atkin and Lundberg approached a big name in golf, Ernie Schneiter, Sr., for advice. He provided a new approach by asking, "Does the city own any property?" The three conferred with Lynne Empey and Andy Price at the city office. They examined the huge map on the wall which recorded all city property and identified pos-sibdities, including the Watercress Spring area of eighty acres which was then serving as a city dump. Schneiter said that area would be fine for nine holes but not eighteen. Atkin and Lundberg realized that the demand for eighteen holes had been one of the sticking points for previous promoters. Atkin argued that the first nine holes was the real chadenge; if they could get nine in, someone else would budd the next nine. They drove to the site, and Schneiter said he could make a nice nine-hole course there. The next problem was water. The water adjacent to the land was owned by a canal company and thus not avadable. The men decided to undertake the design while searching for water. They did not have to wait long. Jay Ence, who would later become the community's leading home developer, was drilling for water on land to the west. THE NEW PIONEERS 317 Ence was willing to provide water for the course if his drilling suc­ceeded, which it did shortly. Thus the city negotiated with Ence. City leaders had always been fiscady conservative, and the idea of government financing a golf course was fraught with problems. Admittedly, most citizens of the city would never use the golf course, and if that were so, how could the city council justify using tax money to underwrite what was essentiady a business promotion idea? Yes, the golf course would promote community recreation, but pri­vately owned tourism would benefit most. Should tax money be used to promote economic development? That was a rather new concept. The proposers were clear in their minds that a bond election would not pass to raise the funds. William "Bdl" Lassiter, a new investor in the St. George Bank from Louisiana, suggested that the city issue rev­enue bonds. If the city councd agreed to issue $60,000 worth of rev­enue bonds, the St. George Bank would purchase them, saving the city a tax increase. Lundberg, Atkin, and their committee began making the rounds to civic clubs with their idea, Bruce Stucki's feasibdity study, and the plan for a revenue bond. With that base of support and input they went to the city councd made up of William Barlocker, mayor, with Mathew Bentley, Grant Johnson, Clayton Atkin, ElMyrrh Cox, and Neal Lundberg as members. In the discussion, Mayor Barlocker urged postponement, argu­ing that he could close a private deal to put a course on the Southgate site within several months. Atkin and Lundberg argued that the momentum was underway as it had never been before. It must not be squandered or it might not rise again. Many private efforts had floundered in the past. Atkin quoted Abraham Lincoln as saying that government does for people what they can't do for themselves. The councd respected the proposers, who had most of the city leadership lined up in support, and on 3 August 1964, they voted four to one to authorize a $60,000 bond and the use of the city property. Barlocker, as mayor, did not vote; Mathew Bentley was the dissenter. The councd appointed Neal Lundberg to take the lead from the city side in executing the construction. From that point on, Lundberg became an even greater driving force. He enlisted the Elks and Lions clubs to donate labor. The Edcs pledged to budd a clubhouse which 318 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY the city employees constructed. Lundberg also recruited other vol­unteers. Marion Bowler was elected mayor during the construction, replacing Bdl Barlocker, and presided over the opening of the course. Gene Schneiter, Ernie Schneiter's son, was appointed golf pro and people began playing on seven holes before the course was even com­pleted. Though the Red Hills Golf Course was soon surpassed by many other ventures and other courses, its creation served as a turning point for St. George. Here, finally, the dreams of many had been real­ized. Washington County was reaching out to tourists. Community leaders had found a way to design and finance a major project. The idea of making St. George a recreation destination had taken its first big step, soon to be joined by several others. Here was evidence that sunshine, scenery, and tourism could make things happen in south­ern Utah. The 1-15 Freeway If the 1930 connection to the Arrowhead Trad (U.S. Highway 91) opened the era of tourism for Dixie, the completion of the 1-15 free­way truly linked the region to the world. For a century and a quarter isolation had been the condition that had both blessed and cursed Dixie. The fact that the radroad could not be enticed into the county was a major deterrent to trade and commerce. That alone helped keep incomes lower in Dixie than elsewhere, but that was not the only factor; there was a lack of large agricultural lands. Much changed with the arrival of the interstate in 1973, again an influence from outside. Dixie residents did not cause the freeway to be budt; like the naming of Zion National Park, outside forces were absorbing Dixie into the national fabric. Local leaders were not sdent on the matter though. County com­missioners, St. George mayor Clinton Snow, and county business leaders were keenly aware that the location of the freeway would have a huge impact on the county's future. They knew of towns such as Levan near Nephi that had been nearly eliminated from the map because the freeway shifted the highway route away from the previ­ous road that had benefited them. Determining the site of the route was a political decision of the highest import. County commissioners THE NEW PIONEERS 319 and Mayor Snow met several times with Utah Department of Transportation planners to stress the need for off-ramps leading to Hurricane, Washington City, and both the north and south entrances to St. George. Snow lobbied for an off-ramp that would lead traffic directly onto St. George Boulevard. Farmers were opposed to having the interstate go through the Washington Fields and St. George businessmen were anxious that the route be west of the mesa. There was rather quick agreement on the route of the road, which meant that the interstate would actually bisect the city of St. George. Portions of the freeway would have to be elevated on earthen hdls, very much affecting the flow of traffic inside the city. City leaders felt that problem was a fair trade-off for bringing the traffic into the city. Locating the interstate east of the mesa would have avoided that problem, but it was never a serious option because it was not as direct and because local leaders lobbied for the route through St. George. Clearly the eastern part of the county would be bypassed. The proposed freeway route would leave Toquerville, La Verkin, and Hurricane off the route, as Highway 91 had already done. Washington would have the Highway 91 traffic taken off Telegraph Street, but an exit would be just a block away. Santa Clara would be left out entirely. An important decision for the highway designers was to avoid going over Utah Hill (the route of old U.S. 91), often plagued with snowstorms and the site of many fatal accidents. They determined to undertake the enormous expense of cutting through the Virgin River Gorge. That decision would later be a major benefit to developers at Bloomington, but it meant the death knell for the fruit-stand busi­ness in Santa Clara. Leaders in St. George, including city and county officials, worked extensively with the Utah State Road Commission in the planning. Businessmen, especially restaurant, service station, and motel own­ers, had real anxiety that the freeway would divert people from stop­ping in St. George. Up to that point, tourists had to drive through town which made stopping for food, gas, or rooms easy for them. With the freeway, drivers could keep going at high speed. They would have to intend to stop if they were to patronize Dixie businesses. 320 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY Truman Bowler recalled the first day, a Sunday, after the formal opening of 1-15. Motel owners, restaurant workers, and gas station help stood around waiting for people to stop, but few did. Many felt their anxieties justified. Within a few days, business picked up, how­ever, ending the worst fears, but within a few years the location of the off-ramps wrought a major change in St. George, though less so in Washington or Hurricane. Most St. George motels, hotels, restau­rants, and gas stations were located in the middle of town while the off-ramps were several blocks away making the property near the exits extremely attractive; most of the new construction of such facd­ities has gradually moved from the center of town to locations near the off-ramps. Another element in the 1-15 story is that of the Virgin River Gorge route through the Arizona Strip which linked Utah and Nevada, a vital commercial connection, but it merely passed through Arizona without benefiting that state's economy. The state of Arizona had little motivation to spend its federal highway funds on an expen­sive project which would not create anything they could tax. The twenty-nine-mile section of 1-15 from St. George to Littlefield was carved through the Virgin River Gorge, exposing mdlions of years of geologic layering in 500-foot cliffs created by the cuts (and the 2,000 feet of mountains above the cliffs). The cost was approximately $61 mdlion, and the project took more than a decade to complete. A good deal of persuasion was needed to get Arizona to undertake the free­way project. Governors Calvin Rampton of Utah and Jack Wdliams of Arizona had a good relationship and were able to work through the issue. One problem was that the freeway through the gorge would be one of the most expensive stretches in the whole nation. In the end, Utah had to agree to spend some of its federal highway funds on the Arizona section, matching Arizona's appropriations. With the recent completion of the joint Arizona-Utah port of entry, substantial truck fees are being collected, and Arizona is recovering some of its investment. Bloomington One of the most dramatic changes to come to Dixie was the development of a planned luxury community, Bloomington. A group THE NEW PIONEERS 321 of northern Utah investors were responsible for this venture. Two young men, Edis Ivory and Roger Boyer, both of Salt Lake City, had begun a real-estate development company that had undertaken pro­jects in Idaho and Colorado. Clark Ivory, EUis's father, and a lifelong land investor, already had an interest in ranch property at Bloomington. Paying $250 to $500 per acre in 1965 and 1966, Clark Ivory purchased farms from Romain Sturzenegger and George Larson on the south side of the Virgin River and from Dan Heaton on the north side, near where the pioneer town of Bloomington once stood. He assembled about 1,200 acres in these dealings. It was not unusual for people to approach Clark Ivory about obtaining an acre from him, so they could build a retirement cottage. Clark Ivory's passion in life was raising horses and he considered using the land for that purpose. He also gave serious thought to rais­ing carrots on a large commercial basis for the California market, but that idea never materialized. The two developers began to eye Ivory's land. In the meantime, they arranged a liaison with three other Utah entrepreneurs, brothers Clifton, Franklin, and Glendon Johnson. The latter had close contacts with companies which became their source of investment funding. The Johnson brothers joined their Johnson Land Company with the Ivory and Boyer Company to form Terracor. They made quite a splash in Salt Lake City by purchasing a grand old mansion on South Temple Street and restoring it for their corporate headquarters. Clearly these men knew how to present an air of elegance. Their ini­tial idea was to develop ten-acre estates in Bloomington for people interested in an equestrian lifestyle, complete with stables and gar­dens. They would attract people from northern Utah seeking second homes in a luxury resort setting. To convince them, they budt a huge horse barn and brought some good race horses to the site. In their many visits to St. George, the men often played golf at the new Red Hills Golf Course which St. George City had opened in 1965. They began to think of golf as a more attractive magnet than horses. Golf could appeal to a wider constituency of California and Utah prospects with disposable income. Even more appealing was the fact that a golf course would provide the possibility of subdividing the lots adjacent to the fairways into much smader pieces-half-acre 322 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY and quarter-acre plots instead often acres. This would greatly multi­ply possible sales. Again they took a high-tone approach by inviting Bill Neff, a well-known golf-course designer, to design a quality golf course. Their idea of a planned community evolved into a major attraction, gaining wide publicity. The success of Terracor's Bloomington depended on several cru­cial elements, not the least of which was obtaining water. The logical source was St. George City, but city officials were cautious about making a permanent commitment to an "outsider" project beyond the city limits. Rudger McArthur who headed the city water office wanted to "guard the seed corn," knowing that water was a limited resource. Mayor Marion Bowler and the city councd were basicady receptive but cautious. Fortunately, the city had recently completed the Gunlock Reservoir. Jay Bingham of Bingham Engineering from Salt Lake City was the engineer for the reservoir, and now he was a vice- president of Terracor. That tie helped the city councd welcome Terracor. An agreement was reached to sell two million gallons of water per day to the Bloomington promoters, even though the land was not within city limits. The next step was to gain the support of the Washington County Commission because Bloomington was part of the unincorporated area of the county. Truman Bowler was chairman of the Washington County Commission, with Floyd Ence and Emd J. Graff as commis­sioners. They proved to be cordial to the developers though they were demanding in setting restrictions on the project concerning storm sewers, water lines, signs, and roads. Roads were a particular issue; most county roads were gravel, and the county preferred not to maintain oded roads, but the developers wanted asphalt. County offi­cials required a four-inch gravel base and a two-inch layer of asphalt with an agreement that the developer would replace any failures in the roads for five years. The roads were designed to give a country­side appearance-they curved through the development California-style and did not have sidewalks. This arrangement certainly was a contrast to the checkerboard layout of the Mormon villages; gone were the easy addresses and the generic street names-First South, Second East, etc. On 4 March 1968, the county commission approved a fifty-eight THE NEW PIONEERS 323 lot subdivision along Sugar Leo Road and Swaps Drive and Terracor began sales. The lots sold fast at the $3,000 price which led to appli­cations for subdivisions two and three, as well as the Bloomington Country Club subdivisions, which were approved on 22 July. Prices were then pegged at a higher rate-$6,000. On the same day, the commission attended the groundbreaking for the golf course on the site and heard golf champion Bdly Casper talk about the plans for the Bloomington Golf Course. Mayor Bowler recently confided in an interview that he went to the opening ceremony, watched Billy Casper hit some golf balls, and saw the drawings of an elegant country club, but in his heart he did­n't ready believe it would materialize.14 Another sidelight to that day: Casper was delayed on his way and caded to beg off. The promoters would hear none of it. They hired a plane to fly to Denver and bring Casper to St. George. Casper's status as a Mormon golf celebrity was crucial to their plans. Bowler, one of the local citizens more favorable to the plan, was hesitant to accept the sales pitch of the young promoters. In the St. George community, Terracor practices were somewhat controversial, a jolt to the local frugality. The company's upscale sales style was a shock to locals-meeting people at the airport with a limousine, pro­viding houseboats on Lake Powell, having purebred race horses on site, hosting elegant dinners, providing a private security force on the premises. It was a country club image that overshot the local folks, but county leaders saw the potential, even if they had doubts. For the next several years, there were other proposals from Terracor that came before the Washington County Commission. In August 1968, plans were submitted for the Bloomington Ranches subdivision. Then a service district was set up to serve as the govern­ment untd the area was either incorporated or annexed. The district took on the responsibility of building and maintaining roads and sewers as wed as providing for garbage codection, police and fire pro­tection, and other regular municipal functions because the county was not able to provide such services in a residential area. The agree­ment included the intention to turn over these functions to the homeowners association when it was of sufficient size to manage 324 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY them. That agreement would later become the bone of much con­tention. The company worked swiftly to set up the infrastructure-water, electricity, sewers, and roads-to keep ahead of sales. Instead of doing a Uttle at a time, they worked broadly throughout the 1,300 lots (which would later cause them financial woes). As other areas across the river were approved, those were developed, too, in order that prospective buyers could be attracted and not have to wait to begin home construction. That necessitated a major investment-a bridge over the Virgin River, the Man of War Bridge (the names of streets were often taken from horseracing terminology). Carl Nelson remembers that on his first visit, he had to wade across the river, so the bridge was welcome, but it was costly. All this activity required a staff. Roger Boyer oversaw the con­struction and Ellis Ivory focused on sales. Frank Johnson was the chief executive officer of Terracor. In 1971 the company sent Jim Kimball to St. George to live and be the general manager of Bloomington with Lonnie Adams working on sales. Lynn Edsworth was in marketing and traveled throughout the nation seeking poten­tial buyers from among people with Utah ties. Jeff Morby came in 1972 as property manager; John and Keith Romney worked on financing and sales. Jim Ward was the project engineer and manager. The initial problem they faced was that many people bought lots, but not many budt homes. The project didn't seem to have momentum. The lots attracted speculators who hoped to resell when success inflated the prices. Together this crew adopted yet another idea: condominiums. In Salt Lake City they conferred with Alan Coombs who had done some condominium financing. Keith Romney took this idea and became an expert in the legal aspects of condominium title design and financing. This was a breakthrough, a product and a financing scheme that fit many customers' needs. Buyers did not need to engage a contractor or architect or seek a financing package. All was pro­vided by the seller, even the furniture and a property management system. People could buy wonderful vacation homes at lower prices than if they had budt the home, and the venture was virtually worry free. Soon Terracor had built sixty condos, designed by Les Stoker, THE NEW PIONEERS 325 around the golf course; they sold fast. Next, thirty-one condos were built across the street. Two years later came twenty-six more on the golf course, then forty-one more across the street. That was the kind of action Terracor wanted. The Bloomington undertaking required a massive sales effort and a rushed construction schedule. Advertisements were aimed ini-tiady at northern Utahns who could afford second homes. Lots were priced at a range from $3,000 to $8,000. Salesmen soon learned that there was a broader market-Mormons who lived ad over the nation, especiady in the West. Many of these people were nearing retirement and were interested in returning to Utah but didn't want to be back in snow. Bloomington provided a Utah location with mdd winters. Retirement homes, not just second homes, soon became another focus of the sales staff. The same strategy worked for affluent retirees-focus on northern Utah but start working through California and even the east coast where people with Utah connec­tions were employed in the corporate world. Sales then could be directed to people who had no connection to Mormonism or Utah but who liked the Southwestern lifestyle. Terracor's portfolio featured a mix of condominiums for second-home seekers or for those who did not want to do yardwork and budding lots for those seeking a permanent home for retirement or for a winter retreat. The developers were especially anxious to get people to build. It was therefore important to provide financing packages to help customers begin home construction. The new homes gave a feeling of momentum and provided the tax base required to finance the utdities. The product found a ready market, fulfilling the dream so many county residents had shared since 1930, even if the dream was not focused. It took Terracor to package the dream; the scenery and weather had been avadable ad along. Air conditioning, freeways, and retirement financing plans that developed after World War II created the atmosphere to make it possible. The catalyst was the entrepre­neurial skdls of the Terracor officials-Ivory, Johnson, and Boyer. The response to Terracor demonstrated that Dixie's time of growth had come. By the mid-1970s, there were so many people buying and budd- 326 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY ing in Bloomington that Terracor designed a second Bloomington. They called it Bloomington Hdls, located on the opposite side of the freeway and over the low hills. In 1972 Terracor built another golf course and laid out over 1,000 lots. This concept was limited to homes. The prices were below the Bloomington level, and the lots sold rapidly. Bloomington was a major success that virtually transformed Dixie. Longtime residents could hardly catch their breath. Some invested in lots; some built homes and moved to the new setting. Most held back, feeling that the Terracor "boys" had greatly over­priced the tamarack bushes in Bloomington where only two old stone houses stood in sdent reminder of the pioneer broom factory that was once located there. Some later wished they had invested at the initial prices which soon appreciated. More than one worried about all the newcomers with their lavish lifestyle, but the people who moved in created no problem. On the contrary, they brought civic talents to share, and they graduady found acceptance. The success of Bloomington did not protect Terracor from finan­cial difficulty. The problems began in Texas. Their financing source was consolidated in a complicated bankruptcy which included scores of financial institutions. The new coalition sent Ian Cumming from New York to protect their interests by being a corporate officer in Terracor. That encouraged Roger Boyer and Ellis Ivory to leave and form their own construction company. Frank Johnson stayed a year longer, then he also left as did Jay Bingham. Ian Cumming became the president of Terracor and was the major figure in policies dealing with Bloomington. As early as 1975, he could see insolvency coming; bills in St. George were overdue, conditions at Stansbury Park, Utah, and in Minnesota, other Terracor developments, were more serious. He negotiated with the parent company to carry them and attend to other bankruptcies of their merger first. That gave Terracor six more years, but in 1982 it filed for reorganization. Reportedly the bankruptcy was due more to the dif­ficulties the firm faced in its other projects; Bloomington was healthy but developments in Colorado and northern Utah were in the red. The Bloomington managers found that providing utdities, secu­rity, roads, water, and fire protection were costly. The Man of War THE NEW PIONEERS 327 Bridge was a major expense; the Bloomington County Club was costly to maintain. These burdens raised the option of either incor­porating as a city or annexing to St. George and greatly concerned the residents who had budt homes and moved into the development. In 1973 seventy-one residents formed the Bloomington Community Council to keep a watchful eye on Terracor and to press the firm to abide by its various agreements with Bloomington resi­dents. The officers included Ray Taylor, chair; Byron McLeese, vice chair, Elmer Thacker, second vice-chair; and Carl Nelson, secre­tary/ treasurer. In 1977 club members in Bloomington took up their option to assume the ownership of the Bloomington Country Club, an agreement that had been written into the early Terracor docu­ments. Club officers, Carlyle Stout and Ray Taylor, took on the responsibdity of managing the facdity. After many complicated procedures, Ian Cumming purchased the assets of Terracor from the holding banks. This change brought some disagreements between the community council and what remained of Terracor. New council leaders, including Dr. Carl Nelson, Ernest Oates, and Dick Bad, pressed for guarantees that the bankruptcy proceedings would provide funds to complete the elec­tric utility lines for both Bloomington and Bloomington Hdls. They spent hundreds of hours inspecting utdity lines and streets to amass solid data for claims against Terracor. Attorney Ralph Atkin repre­sented the Bloomington home owners and Ron Thompson the Bloomington Hills residents; they succeeded in obtaining about $1 mdlion to ensure that the residents would receive a completed utd­ity and road program as promised in their purchase agreements. Carl Nelson developed a long-range plan outlining the need for sewers, electrical power, roads, churches, and schools. His projections showed how the population would grow over ten years. He facditated the acquisition of the ten-acre horse-barn area by the Washington County School District for a future elementary school. The plan con­vinced the LDS church to acquire property for a stake center. Nelson's autobiography includes accounts of developing the fire and police facdities for Bloomington, improving the sewers and roads, mosquito abatement, garbage collection, television reception, and the story of 328 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY Contemporary home in Bloomington, 1996. (Gene Butera) the Rural Electric Association. The debate over annexation to St. George is also outlined.15 Bankruptcy did not halt the growth of Bloomington. Jeff Morby represented Ian Cumming's Leucadia Corporation that stdl owned much of the land in the two Bloomingtons.16 Sales continued through him and other realtors. The developments had become too successful to be stopped by the bankruptcy; nonetheless, there were major prob­lems that had to be solved. Either the Bloomington residents had to incorporate and take on the heavy burden of managing utdities and completing roads or they had to annex to St. George City. The 1982 debate among the homeowners over annexation was intense. In a controversial decision, the owners (including all non­resident landowners, who could vote by mail) accepted annexation. Feelings were frayed between the advocates of annexation and those who urged a different policy. Many of those who had already built homes and were living in Bloomington were cautious, wdling to wait. They did not see as much advantage to annexation as the condo­minium owners who only visited St. George seasonally. Those who lived on the Wasatch Front, in California, or elsewhere favored annexation, perhaps because they could then let St. George City THE NEW PIONEERS 329 worry about roads and utilities. The final tally was 70 percent (including both lot and home owners) in favor of annexation, but the majority of those who had actuady budt homes (not condominiums) opposed it. St. George City took in Bloomington and Bloomington Hills somewhat reluctantly, refusing to do so unless a third party leased the dl-kept golf course in Bloomington Hills. There were other stipula­tions too, indicating the view that the annexations would likely be a burden. Quite the reverse has become the case, even to the point that the city has taken over the golf course in Bloomington Hills and annexed all the land to the Arizona border. There were some down­sides to annexation, however. For example, the roads in Bloomington were budt to be country style and did not meet the city subdivision standard; thus residents would later press the city for an upgrade. Gradually Bloomington and Bloomington Hdls became two of the nation's fine planned communities, far removed from the original thoughts of a carrot farm or equestrian center. They continue to expand. Like many real estate promotions all over the nation, Bloomington went through a bankruptcy and there were losers; but the project has survived, even flourished. Several fortunes were made and lost in the process. One would hardly realize this when inspecting the elegant subdivisions today. The risk-taking spirit of the entrepre­neurs who created the two Bloomingtons stdl engenders amazement and respect from many. Residents of the two Bloomingtons act as boosters for their com­munities. Many have become actively involved in St. George and Washington County, serving on boards and committees, on the city council and county commission, and on cultural and recreational boards. There are still discussions about the pros and cons of annex­ation, but a more recent debate centered on whether to adow a shop­ping mall to locate at the Bloomingon 1-15 exit. That reopened a question in which the city and county both originady took a negative position with the Terracor officials who also wanted commercial zon­ing. It was again turned down in 1991, keeping Bloomington resi­dential. 330 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY Green Valley Alan Coombs was the Salt Lake City attorney who advised Terracor on condominiums. He pointed Keith Romney in the direc­tion of a new financing mechanism that made the concept of condo­miniums work both legady and financiady, but his name is tied to the recreation/resort community of Green Valley. From its beginning to the present day, Coombs has been the central figure.17 Through finan­cial ups and downs, he has weathered the times and is still budding. While still a student in law school at the University of Utah, Coombs invested in home construction and real estate in the Salt Lake Valley. He entered a law practice in Salt Lake City but was enticed into the St. George market by his classmates Jim Kimball, Keith Romney, and Frank Johnson. His first personal investment was the Georgetown apartments, adjacent to Dixie Codege. He then budt a motel, now known as the South Side, partly to complement his Georgetown venture. Next came the idea of a convention center. He and his partners, brothers Derrdl, Dale, and Grey Larkin, reasoned that if people could be enticed to Washington County for a convention, they would look around and decide that having a winter home in the warm sunshine would be a good idea, so they built the Four Seasons Motel and Convention Center. The oil embargo came just after the project opened in 1973, cutting tourist traffic severely; but Coombs and his associates held on and weathered the down time until business picked up. Ron and Wdliam Snow approached Coombs with a proposal to buy their 600 acres on the west side of the airport hill in the mid- 1970s. Coombs resisted for a whde but finady struck a deal, becoming their partner. Coombs had been traveling in southern California, looking at high-quality planned communities such as Mission Viejo. He was intrigued by the challenge of implementing such a concept in Dixie. As had been the case at Bloomington, one big challenge for Coombs was developing the utdities in cooperation with St. George City. At that time, the city was looking for a piece of land to accom­modate the Moore Business Forms company plant. The city and THE NEW PIONEERS 331 Coombs worked out a mutually beneficial arrangement. Coombs gave up twenty acres of land for the plant, and the city instaded water and sewer to the area and improved the road, making it possible for Coombs to extend the utilities beyond the Moore plant to his pro­posed subdivisions. The area was also annexed by the city at that time. The next element that was key to Coombs was finding a financ­ing partner. This he was able to do in Pennsylvania, just before inter­est rates soared in the 1970s. His first subdivision went well but did not have the level of elegance he had hoped for. His next project, The Park, took on a more planned dimension; this included a clubhouse, palm trees, tile-roofed models-the tone of a Southwest resort. He advertised widely with the theme, "the other Palm Springs," promot­ing St. George as much as The Park. The project was a major success, but times were changing as inflation sent interest rates up. Conditions required another strategy which led Coombs to design Sports Village. Instead of semi-detached homes as in The Park, Sports Village appealed to buyers who wanted to invest less money and watch their investment inflate. The units were much smaller and were incorporated in a budding with several apartments. This venture sold 280 units in two years, a big success. Times were heady. In 1980 Coombs announced Las Palmas, a recreation com­munity as elegant as anything in southern California and very much in that tile-roof-and palm-tree style. There were to be 1,000 units with multiple swimming pools and a large tennis complex with a Vic Braden Tennis School. A property management system was set up to adow buyers to put their condos in a rental pool when they were not using the rooms. Coombs was confident that the quality of The Park and Sports Village would sed Las Palmas. In the pre-sale 100 units were sold in one weekend with a 10 percent down payment required. That success allowed Coombs to receive a $10 million line of credit. In the next two and a half years, his company completed 160 units, 130 of them pre-sold, but the nation's economy was shaky. Od-dependent cities like Houston went into a nose dive. Interest rates skyrocketed, reaching as high as 17 percent. Savings-and-loan institutions came under suspicion for being overextended and involved in very soft ventures. 332 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY Green Valley appeared to be safe because there were firm con­tracts for the units. By 1983 just as Coombs was completing his con­dominiums, the federal government, through the Federal Savings and Loan Insurance Corporation (FSLIC), issued new guidelines forbid­ding savings-and-loan institutions from issuing mortgages on con­dominiums and second homes. Almost overnight Green Valley went into default. Coombs had to give the 10 percent deposits back to the buyers. The Pennsylvania Savings and Loan had bigger problems than Green Valley, so it decided to be patient. Over the next few months, the federal government relaxed its regulations somewhat and some of the units were transferred to buyers. Coombs essentiady operated the undertaking for the bank and continues to do so. That set of circumstances caused Coombs to return to the draw­ing board and come up with yet another concept. He had 130 com­pleted units, many of them sold but others remained empty. How could he utdize them? The superstructure of the indoor sports facd­ity was finished but not the interior. The pools and some of the ten­nis courts were completed. Out of that chadenge came Coombs's next idea, a spa. With his own money, he finished the athletic facdities in style and began a major advertising campaign. It worked. He brought visitors to Green Vadey for week-long resort stays featuring health-and- fitness training. Virtually every week sees the arrival of a new group of health-and-recreation-conscious people. That is the status of Green Valley in 1996. Strewn with palm trees, it looks like it is in California. Coombs is starting a new phase of condos as the economy again looks positive. Clearly, entrepre­neurial creativity is stdl saying boldly that there is a new Dixie-Dixie as destination. Silver Reef Reborn A more modest but also upscale real estate venture has occurred on the site of the old Silver Reef mining area. Unlike Green Valley, this residential project fit into a location where the ruins of a previ­ous effort stid existed. Old mine shafts, rigs, mounds of tadings, rem­nants of mill buildings, and cemeteries were standing where the thriving mining town had been seventy years before. Several attempts had been made to rework the tadings, starting THE NEW PIONEERS 333 with Alex Colbath's efforts in 1916 and continuing into the 1960s with the Western Gold and Uranium Company. During part of that time, Wdma and Glenn Beal lived in the old Wells Fargo budding as caretakers for Colbath's properties. Colbath had rebudt much of the interior of the station building to use as an office and a residence whde keeping the structure close to what the original had been. The new approach in the 1970s was to locate expensive homes in the area. Loyal Frandsen, Lindon Frandsen, and Paul McNutt built fine homes in what came to be called Silver Reef Estates. As the ele­gant subdivision developed, one-acre lots were laid out for some forty homes. Originally the project had serious difficulties with land titles and water rights. The establishment of a special service district led by June Macfarlane Forshaw in 1974 helped resolve the water needs in cooperation with Leeds citizens. Gradually this project has seen the construction of some of the county's most spacious homes. A further dimension of the new Sdver Reef was a series of his­torical restoration projects. Joy Henderlider was effective in spear­heading a drive to restore the old Wells Fargo Stage station. With the help of many Dixie citizens, Henderlider directed her energies to this project. She obtained leases to the land, the support of the county commission, and especially a grant from the state Department of Community and Economic Development. An alliance with artist Jerry Anderson, who maintains his studio and home in Silver Reef, was another advantage, leading to the successful restoration. That project, in turn, encouraged the restoration of three other struc­tures- Rice Bank, a powder house, and a restaurant. These now draw scores of tourists every day to the new Sdver Reef. Lflce other efforts in the county in the 1980s, this development occurred because indi­viduals extended themselves for profit or more often for community service.18 Airline In 1960 Bonanza Airlines gave up service to St. George and moved its operations to Cedar City after only a short stay. There they became AirWest. The move left Washington County without com­mercial air service. Thereafter Bruce Stucki took over management of the airport, which was the home of the Dixie Flying Club and 334 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY some limited charter flights. Stucki took on the city lease and pro­vided the gasoline and the flight school. Dixie College agreed to join his efforts and take charge of the ground school. At the same time, the college initiated its flight-attendant program and engine and air­frame maintenance programs. Stucki operated several charter flights, especially serving the movie industry. That led to the formation of Dixie Aviation Corporation, a modest undertaking by Stucki, Jerry Fackrell, and others. They began a scheduled air service caded Dixie Airlines, with daily service to and from Salt Lake City. The operation expanded rapidly, adding Las Vegas connections and acquiring fourteen aircraft including trainers, rentals, and commercial planes. Stucki then decided to sed the airline, which was acquired by J. D. Air Service of Ogden, Utah. In 1972 the organization of what became Skywest Airlines was initiated by Ralph Atkin, who purchased the Dixie Airlines certificate. Jerry Fackrell, Garn Huntington, Scott McGregor, and B. Glen Crawford joined Atkin, mostly for the enjoyment of flying. Their ini­tial fleet included four single-pdot-single-engine planes seating two, four, or six passengers. Their idea was to provide a round-trip com­muter service to Salt Lake City three times a week, along with flights to Las Vegas, Page, Moab, Bullfrog Basin, Cedar City, and Provo. The story of the next twenty years is one of those American tales of success drawn from the sure jaws of defeat-major risks, near bankruptcy, continual reinvestment, employees staying with the ven­ture through dark times, many fortunate decisions, mergers, and expansion. Out of ad this emerged a successful company with services in many states and hundreds of employees. On 19 June 1972 the company's first flight left St. George for Cedar City, Salt Lake City, and return. The fare was $32 one-way and $59 round-trip ($28 and $51 from Cedar City). With this minimal operation, the airline had to patch things together to keep afloat. Pilots sold tickets, de-iced the planes, and worked for five dodars an hour. One ally was Dixie College, partially because Jerry Fackrell, master mechanic, had been an airflight instructor there. Dixie stu­dents were employed and allowed to use the facilities for their aerotechnology classes. Another strategy was to open a rental car THE NEW PIONEERS 335 agency in Cedar City to serve tourists who wanted to drive through the national parks after landing in Cedar City. This subsidiary was a good profit-maker for some time. For a variety of reasons, the venture was soon in financial diffi­culty, however. It was under-capitalized, under-experienced, and under-equipped. Attempts were made to sed the enterprise, even give it away, but there were no takers. The time had come to quit or expand. Rudger Atkin, his sons Sidney, Lee, Ralph, and Clayton, and Clayton's son Jerry were most anxious to avoid bankruptcy. The fam­ily had a good name in several Dixie businesses. In 1974 they decided to invest more of their resources and reorganize the company. Jerry Atkin was moved from accountant to president. A $15,000 grant from the state of Utah was received, providing a big boost. The first major turning point had been passed. Then came a series of important stepping stones: extending flights to Page, Arizona; reaching an interairline agreement with American Airlines in 1977; obtaining federal certification in 1978; leasing their first Fairchild Metroliner; and receiving a federal sub­sidy of $160,000. After acquiring SkyWest Page, they expanded from Page to Phoenix via Flagstaff in 1979. Next came an expansion into Las Vegas and Pocatello markets which led to the acquisition of ten Metro airliners by 1984. An $8 mdlion loan from Zions Bank facdi-tated the addition of routes to Palm Springs and Carson City/Reno, and acquiring Sun Aire in Southern California. Joining Western Airlines' code sharing system and purchasing Brasilia airliners were highlights from 1985-87.19 All this development was directed out of the company's St. George headquarters, embracing a wide network of California desti­nations including Fresno, Bakersfield, Burbank, Ontario, Santa Maria, Santa Barbara, Los Angeles, San Diego, Borrego Springs, and Imperial County. Only a small part of the traffic originated in or even passed through St. George. The board of Skywest by this time included Ralph, Sid, Lee, Brent, and Jerry Atkin as wed as Ded Stout, Frank Chew, Merv Cox, Steven Udver-Hazy, and Ian Cumming. For several years, they had considered the pros and cons of going public. Their initial visits to Wad Street were not exactly warm, but as the air­line expanded to become the eleventh largest regional airline in the 336 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY country, investors began to look again. When another effort was made to prepare documentation and gain federal approval for issu­ing stock, permission and interest moved fast. On 26 June 1986, 1.5 million shares were put on the market. The sale was brisk, raising nearly $12 mdlion. This enabled Skywest to pay off its debt to Zions Bank and Heritage Savings, improve some ground facilities, buy air­planes and put money in the bank. When Delta Airlines bought Western Airlines and Skywest real­ized that Delta serviced the cities where Skywest landed in the inter-mountain West, board members could see that a linkage with Delta was essential. That new affiliation encouraged the addition of fifty-passenger Canadair aircraft and the opening of flights to Boise, Twin Falls, and Idaho Fads, Idaho; Grand Junction, Colorado; Rapid City, and Sioux Falls, South Dakota; Casper, Wyoming; and Butte, Missoula, Bozeman, and Billings, Montana. The airline has contin­ued to acquire larger planes. There were many pressures to move Skywest's corporate head­quarters to Salt Lake City, Delta's hub. A thorough discussion of alter­natives in 1990 led the Skywest board of directors to choose to budd a corporate headquarters budding in St. George. In some ways this was a bow to electronic communications which adows companies to have instantaneous contact with their far-flung agents. In another way it was an expression that the company's leaders wanted to five in St. George. The next question was where to budd. After considering downtown options, the board chose a site on River Road, near the I- 15 off-ramp instead of in the city center. Both decisions had a major influence on the future of St. George. In August 1995, Skywest reor­ganized its board, retiring three local veterans, Lee and Brent Atkin and Dell Stout, and replacing them with Hyrum Smith of the Franklin Institute and Henry Eyring, a Salt Lake City business con­sultant. Marty Braham, vice president of customer relations for Delta Airlines, replaced Frank Chew who previously had represented Delta. This expansion has not happened without difficulty. There have been reorganizations that trimmed the workforce or changed assign­ments. The servicing headquarters was moved to Salt Lake City from St. George, disrupting several people's lives. There were times when the company's stock prices dropped dramatically, scaring away THE NEW PIONEERS 337 Skywest commuter plane at St. George Airport, 1996. (Gene Butera) investors. A tragic mid-air accident near the Salt Lake City airport on 15 January 1987 killed the pilot, co-pilot and eight passengers. Although Skywest was exonerated in the federal investigation, the collision exacted an enormous human toll. Another accident occurred at the Los Angeles airport when a USAir plane landed on top of a Skywest plane, killing all aboard the eighteen-passenger plane. Again Skywest was not blamed. Dixie is thus the home to a significant airline. Its existence is an example of Utah's economic development. The state has discovered that supporting home-grown industries can be more productive than courting outside industries to come to the state. Skywest Airlines started as a small project in Dixie and has grown to national promi­nence. Skywest not only provides employment for 200 people in Washington County but is also a lifeline, bringing business people and visitors into the area. Many people reside in Dixie and commute to work in California on Skywest. The airline brings the county's communities into easy contact with the whole world. Dixie College Moves to a New Campus The campus of Dixie College in downtown St. George had become completely crowded with buddings by 1950. When the col­lege received an appropriation for a new gymnasium, college presi­dent Ellvert Himes was faced with a problem. He was convinced that 338 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY erecting new buddings in the cramped area of the campus in down­town St. George was unwise. During his presidency (1951-54), he and several other college officials and community leaders chose a site for a new campus. The Dixie Education Association, an effective cit­izen lobby in the past, came forward once again. They had codected funds to support the college and donated $30,000 to the purchase of six blocks on the eastern edge of St. George. State senator Orval Hafen, a member of the association, helped obtain permission from the Utah Legislature to put the budding on the new site. The land was donated to the state by the community, and permission was given to start plans for a new campus. In 1957 the cornerstone was laid, and the new gymnasium was soon completed. For some time, students had to rotate between the two campuses for physical education classes and intercollegiate games. The com­munity responded positively to the new gym which has been kept in fine condition even though it has hosted hundreds of athletic meets and has been the site of hard-fought contests with athletic figures such as Arlyn Hafen, Lionel Hodings, Nolan Archibald, Jeff Hodand, Ken Belka, Chris McMullin, Avarian Parrish, Brent Stephenson, and many more. In 1985 Coach Ned Roberts's basketbad team won the national NJCAA championship with a record of thirty-five wins and one loss. Under the direction of the state budding board and its director, Glen Swenson, plans were drawn for a new campus featuring a desert-oasis look. The second major structure was a Fine Arts Center. With its completion, the codege moved to the new campus under the presidency of Arthur Bruhn. Other buildings were also finished: the science and home economics buddings, a snack bar, a heating plant, and the Shdoh dormitory. Bruhn, a science teacher, succeeded Himes in 1954 and brought great energy to his cading. He had a clear vision of what Dixie College should be-a quality academic institution that would train leaders for further higher education. He hoped the col­lege would maintain its small size so that faculty could work closely with students. His view was that the new campus would be a locus for that cordial learning atmosphere. In 1963 Bruhn faced the task of dividing the college when the new campus was ready. The model of having high-school and codege THE NEW PIONEERS 339 students together on one campus had not caught on nationady. For that and other reasons, the system was abandoned; therefore only the collegiate division moved to the new campus. The high school remained in the downtown facilities. Determining which faculty members would remain at the high school and which would move to the new campus was a tough call; feelings were tense about the mat­ter. Bruhn was a leader who had helped instid devotion of both fac­ulty and students to the codege. His critics, however, argued that his view was too limited, both in size and breadth. They had experienced Governor J. Bracken Lee's assault and felt the codege must grow sub-stantiady from its 360 students to fend off further efforts to close it. They also wanted a larger vocational curriculum. Arthur Bruhn's untimely death from cancer in 1964 brought in a new leader who agreed with the expansionist view. Ferron Losee came from Los Angeles where he had seen the impact of vocational training on young people and communities. He felt that Dixie Codege needed to expand its vocational offerings. The new campus was already attract­ing more students-something he encouraged. He undertook a pro­gram to wine and dine decision-makers in the north to overcome the attitude that Dixie was dispensable. Many buildings were started on the campus during the 1960s and 1970s. President Losee was successful in obtaining federal funds to match those from the legislature for several projects. He appointed Bill Barlocker as business manager. Barlocker was the colorful St. George mayor who had made and lost a fortune in the turkey busi­ness and had been a candidate for governor. Barlocker helped attract federal monies. During President Losee's term (1964-76) the student center, Shenandoah dormitories, library, administration budding, lib­eral arts, business budding, auto lab, and the Zion Amphitheater (in Springdale) were constructed. Losee was a controversial figure-an entrepreneur and a strong-willed decision-maker. Some faculty members challenged his leadership style. The controversy led to an extended confrontation which brought on a court case and an inves­tigation from the state board of education which recommended a more participatory governance system. Wdliam Rolfe Kerr became president of the codege in 1976 and 340 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY served four years. He initiated a council form of governance that addressed many faculty and staff concerns, and his personable style won many friends. Enrodment was 1,343 when he began and reached 1,589 by 1980 when he left to take an administrative position at Brigham Young University. (He later became Utah Commissioner of Higher Education.) The trades and industries building was com­pleted during his term, but his major contribution in physical plan­ning was to generate the idea for the Dixie Center-a convention complex to be located on the campus and shared by the codege and the community. His successor, Alton Wade, had to make the tough decision about attracting countywide citizen support for a bond elec­tion. President Wade, Gary Esplin (St. George City manager), and Mayor Karl Brooks went forward with the effort to create a special service district. The bond passed in many communities although it was opposed in some. Several friends of the project, including Governor Norman Bangerter, were then caUed upon to help in a leg­islative lobby effort. The legislature, after a controversial debate, appropriated $4 million over two years. Karl Brooks, Grey Larkin, and others lobbied state officials who granted a Community Impact Board loan of $2 million. The college then had to raise $4 mdlion in private funding to complete the financing-a task which took several years to accomplish. Donors rallied to the effort; some donations were large and donor names were placed on each of the four budd­ings; others were in smaller amounts for seats in the arena or audi­torium. Many of the donations were facditated by the Spirit of Dixie Committee which came together from the community to voluntar-dy do the landscaping and surface the parking lots. The final financ­ing was completed by a generous anonymous donor. Once completed, the Dixie Center became a symbol of the new Dixie. It is a center for conventions and celebrations as well as cul­ture and recreation. The college derives benefit from it, as does the community. It is the home of Dixie Codege basketbad, the Southwest Symphony, the Celebrity Concert Series, and scores of special events. Numerous conventions are drawn to the county because the Dixie Center is available. One of the first events in the Dixie Center was the inauguration THE NEW PIONEERS 341 of yet another Dixie College president, Douglas D. Alder, a professor of history from Utah State University. He replaced Alton Wade, who was appointed president of Brigham Young University-Hawaii in 1986. Known as an academician, Alder placed emphasis on academic quality, and his years at the helm saw the enrollment continue its gradual ascent. The creation of an honors program, the Dixie Invitational Art Show, and several academic conferences and forums supported the academic emphasis. The budding program accelerated with an addition to the science budding and library, the construction of the Val A. Browning Building, and the Kenneth N. Gardner Student Center. The creation of a national advisory councd and com­pletion of an ambitious $17 million capital campaign occurred dur­ing those years. Robert Huddleston succeeded Alder in 1993. A proven adminis­trator, Huddleston reorganized the campus academicady and admin­istratively. Major projects continued during his years; they included the Bruce Hurst Baseball/Softball complex and the Udvar-Hazy Business Budding. Huddleston's major proposal has been for the col­lege to acquire the Dixie Center in conjunction with a community plan to build a new convention center near exit 6 of the freeway. Expansion is stdl part of Dixie Codege; considerable citizen discus­sion has been devoted to proposals for turning the institution into a four-year codege. The state board of regents has been cautious about such ideas, favoring instead cooperative efforts between Dixie and Southern Utah University (SUU) in Cedar City to provide four-year degrees and masters programs on the St. George campus from uni­versities in the state. The University Center, founded earlier, was turned over to SUU to administer on the Dixie campus. When the 1996 Utah centennial began, Dixie College could look back to 1963 and see some dramatic changes that had occurred in the three decades since the opening of the new campus. The college's main achievement has been to improve the lives of its students. Heber Jones, local historian, recalls that for him as a youth in Veyo, Dixie Codege provided a career opportunity he otherwise would not have had. He claims that scores, even hundreds of students, did not have the resources to go away to codege. The opportunities to make a living in agriculture were limited in the 1950s. Dixie College was his 342 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY The Dixie Center, 1996. (Mark Petersen) opportunity, and the chance for many others to move into the pro­fessional world. Enrollment had multiplied, from 363 when the new campus opened, to well over ten times that many in 1996, with even more part-time students. The school that largely catered to young people in 1963 is attracting many re-entry students in the 1990s. Thousands of retirees and community members attend non-credit programs, including some 2,000 Elderhostel students over age fifty-five who come from all over the nation each year to spend a week in classes at Dixie College. The culture role of the codege still thrives: theater, symphony, choirs, concerts, art shows, forums, as well as a continuing athletic program in superior facilities. Citizen audiences remain enthusiastic supporters. The campus has expanded to double its 1957 size when the state of Utah accepted the Dixie Education Association's gift of six city blocks. Governor Scott Matheson later was helpful in acquir­ing the southern portion of the campus, some thirty-five acres. That space is now fully occupied and administrators are looking for new land. The campus is designed to accommodate a maximum of 10,000 THE NEW PIONEERS 343 The Udvar-Ha2y School of Business, Dixie College, 1996. (Mark Petersen) students. If the growth rate of the last thirty years is maintained, that many students could well be enroded in another decade or two. ENDNOTES 1. M. Truman Bowler, Interview, Washington County Centennial History Committee, 7 luly 1994, Dixie College Archives. 2. Orval Hafen, Journal, II, 16 December 1958, manuscript in posses­sion of Bruce Hafen. 3. Ibid., I, 31 March 1935, 25. 4. Ibid., II, 27 September 1952, 10. 5. Ibid., I, 8 October 1935,69. 6. Ibid., Ill, 17 May 1961, 31 (The letter was written 25 years before this entry.) 7. Ibid., II, 17 March 1957, 69. 8. Ibid., II, 1 January 1958,102. 9. Ibid., II, 16 December 1958,156. 10. Ibid., Ill, 24 May 1961,34. 11. Ibid., Ill, 14 Aprd 1961, 24. 344 HISTORY OF WASHINGTON COUNTY 12. J. L. Crawford, "The Boy Who'd Never Seen a Train," St. George Magazine, September 1995, 26. 13. Washington County News, 16 April 1931,2. 14. Marion Bowler, Interview, Washington County Centennial History Committee, 7 October 1994, Dixie Codege Archives. 15. Carl Nelson, Autobiography of Carl Erwin "Star" Nelson (St. George: privately published, 1995), vol. II: 847-94; Dixie College Archives. See also Carolyn Reinbold, "History of Bloomington, Utah," typescript, Dixie College Archives. 16. Jeff Morby, Interview, Washington County Centennial History Committee, 23 November 1992, Dixie Codege Archives. 17. Alan Coombs, Interview with Douglas D. Alder, 9 September 1994, Dixie Codege Archives. 18. Paul Dean Proctor and Morris A. Shirts, Silver, Sinners and Saints (Provo: Paulmar, 1991), 193-202. See also Wilma Beal, My Story of Silver Reef (n.p.: privately published, 1987). 19. Kathryn B. Creedy, Time Flies, The History of Skywest Airlines (San Antonio: Loflin and Associates, 1992); See also Michael V. Orchard, "Historical Research on St. George Aviation, 1929 to 1973,"; Kathy Cottam, "The St. George Airport: Past, Present, and Future," 1981; Nada Prisbrey, "A Brief History of Skywest Airlines," 1983, manuscripts, Gregerson Collection, Dixie College Archives; Sidney J. Atkin, "History of Aviation in St. George," Legacy (St. George: St. George Art Museum, 1996).