The Hoosegow
Another word for calaboose, which is another word for jail. The Spanish word “juzgado” means “tribunal” or “court.” Settlers misheard and adapted the pronunciation of “juzgado” to “hoosegow.” The term eventually came to mean the jail itself. It seems particularly fitting for a geocache at the old Clifton AZ jail.
I have seen a number of jails, including some underground, but the one here fits the term hoosegow perfectly. The old jail was the reason we stopped at Clifton, but we soon discovered more. We were invited to see the 1916 union hall, a collection of African art, and a beautiful mural depicting the 1983 strike that led to a three year struggle. Eventually the union lost. The building was bought in part to preserve its heritage.
Dr. Jeff Gaskin established a B&B there. He was hoping to sell the building but ended up staying. He was later given the key to the town for “outstanding citizenship and his many years of humanitarian work around the world.” I later found out he would invite anyone in to look around so I did not feel as special.
Somehow it all fit together: the jail, the hall, and the African art. Everything was meant to be here.
My Log
I am somewhat of a connoisseur of jails, mostly from a professional standpoint rather than personal experience. But how can you listen to the blues or certain corridos without having jailhouses get into your blood?
I remembered the good times when I served a few days here and there following an arrest on a farmworkers picket line, an occupation attempting to stop Diablo Canyon nuclear power plant, and a peace action with the Catholic Worker. I later rehabilitated myself, passed the bar, and practiced prison law — seeing hoosegows from the inside and out.
Imprisoned in this one would have been more of a challenge even in its heyday. It was unique in many ways. It had the basic idea: bars. It was set lower than I expected. Perhaps its location helped keep it cooler than it might have otherwise been, but was a little rough along the edges. Even now, though, I might have expected to see someone sitting in the corner with the jailhouse blues.
I had to look twice at the chains. Let’s just say that it would not meet 8th Amendment standards — although there are justices who would find no problem with it, even in its present condition.
The town wanted an escape proof prison because too many people managed to get away without paying their fines. Apparently they got it. There should be a corrido about Margarito Varela, who used a pickax and explosives to cut through granite.
The acoustics might have been interesting. The sound of the cell being locked and closing for the night. The echos created by the basement rock or concrete floors. The more dangerous ones were separated from the run of the mill drunks but they still had to get along. Did prisoners pass the time playing the harmonica — or would a cellmate have threatened them with harm if they didn’t keep quiet?
Apparently a flood ended its use, when the waters rose and prisoners had to be lifted out with ropes. I could almost hear Johnny Cash singing “How high is the water?”
From the old jail we walked over to the historical district. Somehow, we must have looked like we would be the type to be interested, but the owner of the old labor hall invited us in. If I weren’t caching I would be studying labor history. The Hispanic led unions over the last 100 years are important chapters in the story of working people. The hall features a David Tineo mural depicting the 1983 strike – sadly we were told that the artist is now blind. However, the events he depicted had a major effect upon this town and we met a few people who remembered it.
In many ways, the town is still recovering from the 1983-86 copper miners’ strike against Phelps-Dodge. Unions had long been in place here, but Phelps-Dodge was emboldened by Reagan’s hostility to unions and broke with other companies. Unions offered concessions but the company demands increased and made it clear that organized labor was its target. The town was split apart. The governor sent in troops to break the strike. The towns were devastated. Phelps-Dodge became the most profitable copper-producing company in the nation.
Jeff, the owner of the hall, also had a nice collection of African American art. He has turned the building into a b&b and showed us around, talking about other history in the area. He said he woukd sell everything at a reasonable price so that he can travel. If you have dreamed about opening such a place in Clifton, this is your chance. In any event, the art and history contributed to our visit.
After seeing the jail and the hall. it seemed fitting to listen to La Cárcel de Cananea commemorating a 1906 mining strike. Listen to Linda Rondstat sing it in Spanish.
“I am going to recount to you all what happened to me,
They’ve taken me prisoner for being an oft-played fighting cock.
I went to Agua Prieta to see who would recognize me,
And at eleven o’clock that night, the police apprehended me.
The officers grabbed me in the gringo style,
Like a wanted fugitive, all of them with pistols in their hands.
The jail of Cananea is situated up on a mesa,
Where I was “processed” because of my careless blunder. “
02/17/2017
