Hamlin began to make his plans carefully. As part of his strategy, he would really do his homework. This time he was determined that nothing would keep him from winning. Before the race, he drove the entire course, trying out several speeds at different places, estimating carefully just how fast he could go and just how much he could get away with. After this test run, he calculated the distance and the times he felt he could do on each segment of the course. He reckoned that he could win the race in a time of 18 hours and 10 minutes, barring an accident. Now all he had to do was do it.
On Saturday, October 26, an hour before midnight, the race began. Twelve drivers were ready; twelve restless mechanics nervously inspected pressure pumps and controls. Before the men were 511 miles of desert, sand, shrubs, cactus, mountains and streams of water.
But for the moment, there was excitement. People crowded around the cars asking questions, officials pompously conversed in whispers about the seemingly weighty matters of the racing game. Twenty-four beams of light pierced the night sky diminishing the sparkle of the stars above Los Angeles. At the same time 20 cars were being readied to leave San Diego to compete as well. This race was to be a double-header.
At 11:05 p.m., the first driver was given a sharp slap on his back, the signal to start. Hamlin was ninth to leave the starting line. All his energy, all his concentration, was bent on catching up with the eight skilled, experienced drivers in front of him. As he drove through Los Angeles, he reviewed his plan. The bigger, higher-powered cars would speed up over the relatively decent roads outside of Los Angeles; it was when they hit the desert trails, that Hamlin figured that his lighter Franklin would be able to outmaneuver and pass them. Hamlin’s mechanic, Andrew Smith, hand-focused a huge searchlight, constantly maneuvering it to illuminate at least 200 yards in front of them.
At about 53 miles into the course, they came across the first accident. A Buick lay in the center of the road, a twisted mass of broken steel. Quick reflexes enabled Hamlin to barely avoid colliding with the overturned car. A Mercedes that had been following Hamlin was not so lucky and two cars were finished with the race.
Outside of Banning, Hamlin’s mechanic shouted to him, “There are only four ahead of us now, only four.” They soon passed two Cadillacs. Now only a Simplex and another Cadillac were ahead of them.
Then a sandstorm came out of nowhere, the sand slashing at their faces. The wind and cold left them exhausted as grueling mile after grueling mile flashed by. Then they heard the bad news: storms had swollen rivers and streams to raging, impassable barriers. Was his chance at victory to be snatched away once more? No ferry was available, no bridge existed.
Racing car similar to those used in the Great Desert Automobile Race, November 7, 1915. Winning driver is C.A. Bennett. (Courtesy Arizona Historical Society, Tucson, from Buehman Collection)
The next morning, Hamlin started out determined to push on in spite of the reported conditions ahead. He and his mechanic soon found themselves facing a flooding Hassayampa River. Testing the depth of the water, they found it to be about two-feet deep. Hamlin decided to chance it and plunged the Franklin into the river. He was able to plow across the raging torrent to the other side. Hamlin smiled. Nothing would stop him now.
Then he came to the Agua Fria River, where the flooding was more severe. He stopped the car, wrapped the generator with a rubber cover, hired four horses and had the Franklin towed across. After all that, Hamlin had only a 20-minute lead, with the Simplex and the Cadillac too close for comfort.
It was then that he saw in the distance the town of Phoenix rise into view like the mythical bird, its namesake. With a burst of speed, he raced into the fairgrounds and circled the track. Ralph Hamlin had won! His estimated time of 18 hours and 10 minutes was off from his real time by a mere 22 seconds. He had bested the record, averaging 28 miles an hour for 511 miles. The crowd at the fairgrounds rose to their feet and cheered. The “Howdy” crowd from the Los Angeles train raised him to their shoulders and rode him around the fairgrounds. He had won! It was a moment of triumph.
Ralph Hamlin did not compete in the last two of the six desert races that were held in 1913 and 1914. He had proven his car. He had proven himself. He continued to successfully sell the Franklin air-cooled car until the manufacturers went bankrupt during the Great Depression. Aside from being a racing driver great, Hamlin is credited with developing an innovative idea that was to revolutionize the American marketplace. He was the first person to initiate the concept of buying a car on the time payment plan.
Once again the sounds of racing cars and the cheering of crowds has been heard in Phoenix. There will always be newer forms of automobile racing competition. Will these new contests reverberate through time as well as those past moments of courage and bravery?
BIBLIOGRAPHY
James E. Cook, “Automobile Was a Horse of Another Color,” The Arizona Republic , Sunday, January 8, 1989.
Etta Gifford Young, “A Classic Auto Race,” Arizona, The New State Magazine, Volume II,
October 1912.
Ralph Hamlin, “The Great Desert Race,” Desert, Magazine of the Southwest , Vol. 25, Number 10, October 1962, pages 22–27.
Lowell Parker, “Motorized Daredevils Braved Untracked Desert in 1908 Race,” Arizona Republican Newspaper, December 8, 1975.
Lowell Parker, “All Four Starters in First L. A.-Phoenix Event Finished,” Arizona Republican Newspaper , December 9, 1975.
Lowell Parker, “The Race is Over, Herrick Wins, But Where Are Seven Cars,” Arizona Republican Newspaper, December 10, 1975.
Jay J. Wagoner, Arizona’s Heritage, Peregrine Smith, Inc., Santa Barbara and Salt Lake City, 1977, page 251.
A Sheriff Meets the Woodson Brothers
People often complain about how difficult teenagers are nowadays.
The list of objections can include quite a range of offending behavior. They never listen, they are too wild, don’t respect authority, are very self-involved, lazy and all they ever think about is money. Sometimes when this type of conversation is underway, there is added a poignant wish that teenagers today could be more like the youngsters back in the olden times, back in the days when Arizona was still a territory.
This is the story of two teenage boys, the Woodson brothers. In April of 1910, they were living in the Phoenix area. At that time Ernest Woodson was 18 years old and his brother Oscar was 16. The brothers found themselves without any money. They were not at all happy about being without funds. What teenager likes being without cash? Every minute of their time was devoted to thinking up ways to get some funds. They applied for all kinds of employment. The jobs that were available at the time all required hard work. If hard labor wasn’t the main condition of employment, the position usually demanded long hours. Oscar and Ernie didn’t like to work hard and they surely didn’t like to work long hours. What they wanted was a way to make money that would be fun, exciting, wouldn’t take too much effort and would give them quick cash.
During the month of April, when balmy breezes created small dust devils, the brothers, lounging comfortably in the shade, spent hours discussing their problem and all the possible ways of solving it. Suggestion after suggestion was rejected. Finally one day Oscar exclaimed, “I know what we can do! It’s just come to me.”
“What,” retorted Ernie, feeling hopelessly languid in the heat of an afternoon.
“We can rob a train,” said Oscar enthusiastically. “There hasn’t been a train robbery in the territory for as long as I can remember, no one will be expecting one. It should be so easy.”
“Rob a train?” questioned Ernie, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “How are we going to rob a train? We don’t have enough money to buy us a ticket to get on a train.”
Sheriff Carl Hayden (Courtesy Arizona Historical Foundation, Hayden Library, Arizona State University, Tempe)
“Now wait a minute,” Oscar replied, “we don’t need a lot of money to buy some tickets for the shuttle train that goes from Phoenix to
Maricopa. All that takes is a few bits of change. We can manage that.”
The Woodson boys spent hours planning their strategy. Ernie was soon caught up in Oscar’s enthusiasm. Finally they were ready to put their plan into action.
On the morning of May 11, 1910, the brothers went into Phoenix and rented two horses and two revolvers. Then they rode their newly rented horses along the railroad tracks to a point about 15 minutes out of the Phoenix station. There they tied their mounts to some greasewood shrubs and proceeded to walk back to Phoenix.
Later that afternoon Oscar and Ernie purchased two tickets for the shuttle train leaving Phoenix at 6:10 p.m. When the train pulled out of the station heading for Maricopa, it was crowded with territorial officials coming home after a legislative session and people coming home after work. Among the passengers were the attorney general of the territory and the sheriff of Gila County. Also on board the train were the Woodson brothers.
As the train approached the place where Ernie and Oscar had left their horses, both boys pulled out their revolvers, stuck them in the belly of the conductor and told him to stop the train.
Fearing for his life, the conductor stopped the train. With cool aplomb, the brothers proceeded to rob the passengers, the territorial officials, the sheriff of Gila County, and even the train crew of their valuables and money. In all, they took about $300 worth of money, watches and jewels.
The boys then pistol-whipped one of the passengers to discourage anyone from attempting to stop them, jumped off the train and onto their horses, and rode south across the desert toward the Mexican border.
In under two hours, the sheriff of Maricopa County, Carl Hayden, had organized a posse. He had also made arrangements for a special train to start from Phoenix. Attached to the train was a cattle car. Sheriff Hayden put the posse on the train and their horses in the cattle car and they rode to the scene of the crime. There they saw, scattered along the side of the track, slashed wallets and torn purses. Disappearing into the desert were easily identifiable hoofprints.
The posse saddled up their horses and, with the aid of two Pima Indian trackers, headed across the desert in hot pursuit. The only person to get back on the train besides the crew was Sheriff Carl Hayden. He ordered the train to continue on to the town of Maricopa.
When the sheriff arrived in Maricopa, he went to visit a man named J. F. McCarthy, the proprietor of a local hotel. “J. F.,” said Sheriff Hayden, “I understand that you own an automobile.”
“Yup,” replied J. F. McCarthy, “I own a Stoddard-Dayton automobile. Cost me $3,000. It’s the fastest car in the territory.”
“I want to draft your automobile into my posse,” said the sheriff.
“You want to draft my automobile into your posse?” questioned the surprised owner. “Why?”
“Because it is May, and you know how hot it gets out on the desert at this time of year. If my posse doesn’t catch those robbers soon, their horses are going to get hot, tired and thirsty. The horses won’t be able to continue. Now if I had your automobile,” continued the sheriff, “it would not get hot, tired and thirsty and we could continue the chase until we catch ’em. J. F., I need your automobile.”
“Well,” replied the hotel owner, frowning thoughtfully, “you can have it on one condition—I have to drive.”
“Done,” said Sheriff Carl Hayden rising from his chair.
The two men jumped into the Stoddard-Dayton which was parked behind the hotel and, stopping only long enough to pick up a United States customs official who knew every watering hole from Maricopa to the Mexican border, proceeded to careen up and down arroyos, speeding around cactus and racing through greasewood shrubs. They soon caught up with the posse in a Papago village where they found the men’s hot and thirsty horses.
A 1910 Stoddard-Dayton, like the automobile used by Sheriff Carl Hayden as part of his posse that apprehended the Woodson brothers. (Courtesy Arizona Historical Society, Tucson. Photo by Tenney Williams)
Sheriff Hayden called to a couple of his deputies to jump in the car and they continued south, following the Woodson brothers’ tracks. The trail through the desert was easy to follow, as the brothers, certain of their success, had made no serious attempt to cover their route. Eventually their tracks turned into a sandy arroyo, for the Woodson boys’ horses were also hot and thirsty, and they needed a rest.
When the brothers saw the cloud of dust from the approaching car, they thought that the automobile belonged to some rich miners out for a joy ride. They came out of their hiding place and called for help.
The Stoddard-Dayton came to a screeching halt and the deputies jumped out of the car, raised their revolvers and aimed them at the boys, ready to fire.
“Put up your hands,” yelled one of the deputies, “or I’ll shoot.”
Ernie put up his hands to surrender. But Oscar kept his hand firmly in his pocket, fingering his revolver.
“Throw up your hands,” the deputy growled, cocking his pistol.
“Now wait a minute, Billy,” said Sheriff Carl Hayden, “I don’t want anyone hurt if I can help it.” The sheriff then raised his revolver, which happened to be unloaded, and with a calm, steady voice called to Oscar, “Raise up your hands son. As I said, I don’t want anyone hurt if I can help it.”
For a long minute Oscar hesitated. Then, deciding that living was the wiser course, he slowly raised his hands.
In under 20 hours, the Woodson brothers were handcuffed and in captivity. The Stoddard-Dayton had acquired a flat and the boys were returned to Phoenix by train.
When the people of Phoenix heard of the capture of the robbers by Sheriff Hayden, with the aid of an automobile, the city went wild with excitement. People gathered around the railroad depot and later at the courthouse to see Carl Hayden bring the captives in. Everyone cheered their cool, efficient sheriff who was forward-looking enough to dare to use an automobile for the first time as a part of a posse.
In time, a federal judge found Oscar and Ernest Woodson guilty of horse stealing and armed robbery, and the brothers were sentenced to ten years in a Kansas penitentiary. They served there for 3½ years before being released on probation. What happened to the Woodson brothers after that has been lost in history, but Sheriff Carl Hayden went on a few years later to be elected to the United States Congress when Arizona first became a state. Carl Hayden continued to serve the citizens of Arizona in the United States Congress for 56 years, first as a member of the House of Representatives and then as a Senator. Only a few members of Congress have achieved that rare distinction of serving their country for such a long time.
What a fascinating life that man lived! Born in the days when Arizona was a territory, he lived during the Apache raids, during the OK Corral incident and the Pleasant Valley feuds. He saw Arizona go from a territory to a state. He lived through World War I, the Great Depression, World War II, the Korean War, the Vietnam War and lived long enough to turn his television set on and watch an American man step onto the moon. Carl Hayden, a pioneer and cool-headed sheriff, is remembered as a dedicated first citizen of Arizona.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
August, Jack J. Jr., “A Sterling Young Democrat. Carl Hayden’s Road to Congress, 1900–1912,” The Journal of Arizona History, Arizona Historical Society. Volume 28, Number 5, Autumn 1987, pages 217–242.
Cook, James E., “Great Arizona Road Once Belonged to Maytag.” The Arizona Republic, Sunday, June 25, 1989, page E-2.
Cook, James E., “Ruthless People,” The Arizona Republic, Sunday, March 5, 1989, page F-27. Trimble, Marshall, In Old Arizona, Golden West Publishers, Phoenix, Arizona, 1985.
Notes
Chapter 1 Notes
1. Sharlot Hall, Untitled speech, SHM Collection, Item 9, Document Box 8, Sharlot Hall Museum Archives
Chapter 4 Notes
1. Rudyard Kipling, Letter to Sharlot from Nauhakha, Windam County, Vermont (no date). Sharlot Hall Museum Collection, Item 5, File 1, Document Box 1, SHM, Prescott
2. Sharl
ot Hall, Cactus and Pine, Songs of the Southwest , Sherman and French, Boston, 1910, page 106. Sharlot Hall Museum Collection, Prescott
3. Josephine MacKenzie, Poems of a Ranchwoman , Sharlot Hall Historical Society, 1953, page 10
Chapter 10 Notes
1. Poston, Charles “Building a State in Apache Land, War-Time in Arizona,” Overland Monthly, September 1894, Volume XXIV, Number 141, page 296.
2. Poston, Charles “Building a State in Apache Land, Concluded,” Overland Monthly, October 1894, Volume XXVI, Number 42, Second Series, page 404.
Chapter 13 Notes
1. Doran, Colonel A. J., “Interesting Reminiscences,” Arizona Historical Review, A quarterly, Vol. I. No. 3, Published by the Arizona State Historian, Phoenix, Arizona, October 1928, page 59.
Arizona Legends and Lore Page 17