Twice in his life, Eric Adam has fallen in love at first sight with women who launched him on crusades that other men would have known were impossible. His first love was a Montana country girl he met at the Veterans Administration hospital in Prescott, where he was drying out…
Christophe Leininger and his opponent waltz sideways across the mat, like white-jacketed dancing bears, each one pawing at the sleeves and lapels of the other’s judo uniform, searching for a good grip and a moment’s imbalance. It’s late June, in a run-down, old Mesa gymnasium where the judo event of…
“Freeze, FBI!” Brian Kingman thought he was being robbed. He’d just left a private jet on the tarmac at Scottsdale Municipal Airport with two gentlemen who had in their possession a rolled Picasso painting of a cubist Mona Lisa that was thought to be worth millions of dollars. Two men…
Shane Stant spent the last weeks of his freedom literally shoveling shit. He’d taken a construction job in rural Oregon while he was waiting to be sentenced to prison. He was working for meals and not a paycheck, and one of his tasks was to dig the excrement out of…
As of last Sunday, Deborah Laake’s book Secret Ceremonies sat at No. 11 on the New York Times Bestseller List for paperback nonfiction after nine weeks on the list. Laake is a staff writer for New Times and an executive managing editor for the five cities in which New Times…
Dave Roth brought a friend to the New Times offices, a demure little pigeon he calls Tootsie. He set her on a desk and she strutted around, nodding her head as if in agreement with Roth’s thoughts about pigeon control at the Madison Street Jail. Roth has started a heated…
Beneath an unassuming building on Central Avenue, in a labyrinth of studios, dozens of artists labor over worktables and at easels and printing presses, churning out watercolors, paintings on canvas and etchings in practically every style known to art history: abstract, cubist and a neoclassical figurative style one could call…
During the 16th century, fussy Vatican clerics took offense at the friskier frescoes in the Sistine Chapel and commissioned an artist to paint draperies over the private parts of the nudes on the ceiling. Here in Phoenix, there’s a bar called the Monastery, and its frescoes are really a decoupage…
Eric Taylor was a proud father, an exceptional college athlete, a hard worker and a devout Christian. He was six feet seven inches tall, with a strong jaw, heavy brows and chiseled features that could look forbidding until they eased into a freely given, gap-toothed smile. But he lived his…
Eric Taylor was a proud father, an exceptional college athlete, a hard worker and a devout Christian. He was six feet seven inches tall, with a strong jaw, heavy brows and chiseled features that could look forbidding until they eased into a freely given, gap-toothed smile. But he lived his…
Eric Taylor was a proud father, an exceptional college athlete, a hard worker and a devout Christian. He was six feet seven inches tall, with a strong jaw, heavy brows and chiseled features that could look forbidding until they eased into a freely given, gap-toothed smile. But he lived his…
No one remembers exactly when the first message–DEVELOPERS BEWARE”–appeared. It was scrawled in big, blue brush strokes on a palisade fence bordering the new subdivision on Highway 180 north of Flagstaff. The second message–FINAL WARNING”–appeared after the Super Bowl, on the night of January 30, and it was documented because…
No one remembers exactly when the first message–DEVELOPERS BEWARE”–appeared. It was scrawled in big, blue brush strokes on a palisade fence bordering the new subdivision on Highway 180 north of Flagstaff. The second message–FINAL WARNING”–appeared after the Super Bowl, on the night of January 30, and it was documented because…
No one remembers exactly when the first message–DEVELOPERS BEWARE”–appeared. It was scrawled in big, blue brush strokes on a palisade fence bordering the new subdivision on Highway 180 north of Flagstaff. The second message–FINAL WARNING”–appeared after the Super Bowl, on the night of January 30, and it was documented because…
No one remembers exactly when the first message–DEVELOPERS BEWARE”–appeared. It was scrawled in big, blue brush strokes on a palisade fence bordering the new subdivision on Highway 180 north of Flagstaff. The second message–FINAL WARNING”–appeared after the Super Bowl, on the night of January 30, and it was documented because…
Brian Flatgard is loose and goofy, wearing an earnest grin and a backward baseball cap over hair that free falls to his shoulders. He lifts a hand-bound book of poems as he steps to the microphone and lets fly: “Thanksgiving yum yum,” he reads in an accent as flat as…
Brian Flatgard is loose and goofy, wearing an earnest grin and a backward baseball cap over hair that free falls to his shoulders. He lifts a hand-bound book of poems as he steps to the microphone and lets fly: “Thanksgiving yum yum,” he reads in an accent as flat as…
One night in Minnesota, Dave Foreman woke up in his tent to a wolf howl, a desperate, aching sound that freezes time and makes domestic dogs try to hide under beds. At first, he thought it was the wind as he sat up in his sleeping bag. Then, when the…
W.H. “Moose” Graham sat slack-jawed and panting in the defendant’s box in a Pinal County courtroom in Florence last Friday morning, his big, gray head poking out of orange prison garb. He was waiting for Judge Robert Bean to formally charge him with first-degree murder in the 1992 shooting death…
W.H. “Moose” Graham sat slack-jawed and panting in the defendant’s box in a Pinal County courtroom in Florence last Friday morning, his big, gray head poking out of orange prison garb. He was waiting for Judge Robert Bean to formally charge him with first-degree murder in the 1992 shooting death…
W.H. “Moose” Graham sat slack-jawed and panting in the defendant’s box in a Pinal County courtroom in Florence last Friday morning, his big, gray head poking out of orange prison garb. He was waiting for Judge Robert Bean to formally charge him with first-degree murder in the 1992 shooting death…
Sunlight dances on fresh snow; Adella Begaye edges her big pickup truck off ice-packed Route 12 high in the Chuskas Mountains on the Navajo Reservation and onto the trackless white snow covering a dirt road into the trees. Begaye gets out of the truck to turn the front wheel hubs…
