A Place with a Story

A PLACE WITH A STORY

The 35th parallel that runs across the American West has long been a favored path for travel. Everyone from explorers to military personnel, commerce, and tourists have used it, primarily because it is about as far north as you can go and still have a reasonable chance at an all-season crossing of the Continental Divide. Wagons, trains, trucks, and cars have plied the ruts and rails of those roads. It is also where the Painted Desert Indian Center, a modern rendition of the much older trading posts, has operated for nearly 50 years.

Historic trading posts, often no more than dilapidated cabins, grew into bustling commercial centers as travel through the area increased. And while the corridor proved to be passable much of the time, until the turn of the 20th Century, it was never easy. Trailblazers like Edward Fitzgerald Beale in the 19th Century, faced many challenges, but they blazed a trail later followed closely by the Atlantic & Pacific Railroad, the National Old Trails Road, Route 66, and nowadays I-40.

None of those challenges have stopped Freddy Slatton, 73, though, from selling his wares along the side of old US Highway 66 in Adamana, Arizona. A short ribbon of the old pavement still exists in the shadow of I-40, bounded close by to the west with a seemingly impassable old bridge, and a dead end seven miles east where Rocky’s Stage Stop once serviced motorists. It’s accessible only via Exit 303.

Farther east is the Petrified Forest National Park, wherein the namesake Painted Desert is viewable. In between Slatton’s place and Rocky’s is the razed site of the Painted Desert Point Trading Post, one of several long-gone posts within a 20-mile stretch, all bearing some variation of “Painted Desert” in their name. What entrepreneurs lacked in originality, they basked in optimism that theirs would succeed. Slatton’s is the only trading post surviving today, in large part because it arrived on the scene long after the others had closed, once the freeway opened around 1960.

No stranger to retail, Slatton is well acquainted with the tourist trade. “I’ve been doing this for 50 years,” he said, referring to a store that he had once owned but lost following a divorce. “My partner and I had bought some land [in 1970], and we built the building in 1974.” They opened their trading post the same year, before leasing it to his partner’s cousin in 1976.

That deal went sour but had a sweet ending. “When I got divorced, he owed me about $42,000 in back rent. I kicked him out and I took over. That was in 1983.” He then adopted the current name, changing it from Indian Mesa.

It was also about this time that Slatton married his current wife, Lita, who helped in the business until retiring recently. “We’ve got a 1986 work truck around here, and we bought it new. We’d been together a few years by then,” he recalled.

Slatton prides himself on the wide array of authentic Native American merchandise that he carries, alongside the usual touristy souvenirs. From elaborate woven rugs to pottery, kachina dolls, jewelry, and other artifacts, his vendors and their goods actually come to him.

In many ways, it is the authenticity of his merchandise that sets him apart from many other shops. While some visitors are happy to buy inexpensive trinkets sourced overseas, others prefer the more expensive crafts produced by local artists. “I’ve got potters from all the tribes—Navajo, Hopi, Santa Clara, Jemez, Acoma.” But Slatton’s shop is anything but a true Indian trading post, which functioned more like a pawn shop.

As a third-generation eastern Arizonan, he has seen the final vestiges of those old trading posts. “They [the Indians] used to come out with wagons and horses. They’d trade flour, beans, all the essential stuff,” he recollected. “That’s a thing of the past [now].”

Slatton, who has lived within a 100-mile radius of his store his entire life, and now lives 50 feet behind his shop, is a man who has watched the world change around him. Adamana had originally been settled in 1896 along the railroad, which still runs a few miles to the south of the current freeway exit. It was named for Adam Hanna, a local rancher. “But somehow it got twisted around,” he laughed.

A depot and small hotel sat beside those rails, serving what was then sufficient passenger travel to justify their existence. But the automobile, as well as the highways ultimately being placed in their current position, left the original settlement in the lurch. New businesses then sprung up along the road, although very little remains at the exit today. But that is one of the things that makes the Painted Desert Indian Center and its location so memorable. The area allows visitors to experience a fun stop in a lonely, largely abandoned section of Arizona. The mood of modern-day Adamana is flooded with the past.

Aside from his merchandise and perfect location, Slatton’s shop beautifully mirrors the tactics used during the 1940s and ‘50s, when motorists were lured off of the speeding highway by a muffler man giant or an exquisite piece of neon. This is Arizona after all and Slatton is a man with a plan. An eyecatching array of teepees, old Indian weather rock, and of course some requisite dinosaurs, rest waiting for unsuspecting drivers to wander past. Someone else’s bad luck once again became his good fortune.

A flurry of interest in dinosaurs, generated by knowledge of the millions-of-years-old rock core of the Triassic Period in the Holbrook area, resulted in the International Dinosaur Park and Museum opening nearby in 1999. But its closure in 2007 gave the City of Holbrook itself, as well as area businesses, the opportunity to purchase some very large dino statues.

“They [the Holbrook Chamber of Commerce] got them into town, but they hadn’t considered all the overhead wires crossing the streets. They were 16 feet and 8 inches high! So, I bought them,” Slatton laughed. His dinos are positioned to appear to be stalking through a teepee village. It’s an effective gimmick.

In an ever-changing world, fewer and fewer places like the Painted Desert Indian Center are surviving and as they disappear, a fascinating chapter in our modern history is dying with them. Perhaps that is what makes them such a draw to travelers who dream of visiting the West and experiencing a history that they’ve only read about. For now, Slatton’s colorful respite for travelers sits silently in the arid desert, waiting to be discovered.

PRAYING HANDS

Those who have taken a trip through the Show-Me State are no stranger to the 32-foot-tall Praying Hands that reside in Webb City. Standing atop a 40-foot man-made hill along the side of Highway 71, they’re hard to miss. Although they may appear unannounced and unexpected, the message they portray is fundamental to local artist Jack E. Dawson.

Nearly 50 years ago, the Webb City Park Board and the Historical Society were approached by a 20-year-old college student who wanted to construct an art piece in the local King Jack Park. It was 1971 and the country had been in a constant state of unrest for nearly a decade. As an artist from his childhood, Dawson channeled his feelings toward the country’s turmoil into doing what he did best: create art. He came up with the idea for a large set of praying hands, not as a protest statement, but as a simple reminder.

“I was really motivated, not as a protest of any kind or anything like that, but more of an inspirational sculpture with a spiritual connotation to it – to point people to faith and God and being inspired to pray,” said Dawson. “I know from personal experience that the way to peace is to follow the principles and standards that are listed in the Word. That became a motivation to want to put a symbol somewhere that would cause people to consider why the hands were there and think of the fact that it’s a simple testimony of prayer and faith, and to cause people to be aware that we need to always have God in our lives. I know a lot of our founders would be in agreement with that, and prayer was very vital in those days, and I think it has carried right on through.”

The Board and Historical Society didn’t only approve Dawson’s proposal, they asked the community to help fund it. Garnering support from local citizens and businesses, Dawson began the process of first creating the hands in a smaller form as a model. From there, they only got bigger. The base is made of a sturdy steel understructure with metal lath, all created in his own backyard. It wasn’t until the following summer of 1972 that the steel base would be coated in a special concrete and stucco type material, forming the actual hands. What was described at first as appearing to look like a “gigantic birdcage” soon became carefully constructed, pure white, sculpted hands in a praying formation atop a rocky base.

“There were challenges along the way,” continued Dawson. “This was a project that didn’t have a lot of funding at that time. So, there were materials that were donated for the project, money was donated for the project, it had a humble beginning. The community did come together, and they offered support and assistance. They’re placed on a major highway through Missouri, Route 66 obviously is coming through Webb City, so they’ve been seen a lot. It ended up being a visual that you see driving by more than anything, and that’s why they are large, and they make that statement.” In 1974, the 100ton hands were opened to the public at a dedication ceremony and have received thousands of visitors in the years since. Half a century later, the hands are in a state of improvement. In November 2020, a ceramic tile mural was added to the premises to tell the history of their creation and display personal pictures of what Dawson’s creation process looked like. As a further enhancement, the hands were cleaned, and the structure was re-inspected after being outside for all these years. American flags wave in the wind before the sculpture, protecting the hands. Behind the flag is a stone carving, reading, “Hands in prayer. World in peace.”

Roadside attractions and art installations are scattered along Route 66 with many meanings of their own, but the Praying Hands are a reminder to all. Rather than standing as a protest or a statement to be made, the Hands are Dawson’s favor to the public. As people rush to their next destination along the highway, the Hands stand tall as a gentle reminder to slow down the fast-paced style of living ever present across America and take a moment for contemplation, and perhaps a little prayer.