Q: Where does a 500-pound gorilla sit? A: Anywhere he wants. If, however, you happen to own a far more lightweight simian, your primate’s seating opportunities are considerably more limited. Or so Phoenix businessman Ric Adams discovered when he disguised his pet ape as a baby and smuggled the animal…
Leo Damore was in a state of high dudgeon. At this moment, his fury knew no bounds. Damore’s blood had been stirred by reading an excerpt from Joe McGinniss’ latest book, The Last Brother, in the September issue of Vanity Fair magazine. Damore did not bother to pull punches, as…
I drove to the Arizona State Prison at Florence last week to watch the Board of Pardons and Paroles in action. Anyone who spends much time as a reporter will visit quite a few prisons and hear many inmates’ tales. I have talked to killers, gang leaders, bank robbers, drug…
About noon on June 18, 1985, Josh Burner pulled his truck into a parking space in front of the Tempe Police Department. He had come to report a murder. He knew exactly what he wanted to say. As it turned out, Sergeant Mike Palmer, a detective, did the listening. “My…
In July, Details magazine lauded Tiffany’s Cabaret of Phoenix as one of the top topless joints anywhere. “Eight hundred ninety-three million women table-dance nightly in a labor-intensive mammathon,” the trendy, men’s style publication quipped in a feature on the top 300 nightspots in the U.S. “The most corporate and unsleazy,…
Phoenix Fire Department Chief Alan V. Brunacini likes to boast that getting into his department is as difficult as getting into medical school. The Phoenix Fire Department is, in many ways, an elite organization. So it was no surprise that of the 1,709 people who showed up at Phoenix Civic…
Ivan Kapetanovic says it happened “just like on TV.” As Kapetanovic and two friends–Marko Belinic and Zeljko Vusir, both Croatian citizens–strode across the parking lot of Scottsdale’s Los Arcos Mall on May 31, 1991, a horde of armed federal agents swung into action. “Down on the ground, now! You’re under…
Few human physical acts capture the imagination or wrench the emotions like branding, the “kiss of fire.” –Fakir Musafar in Body Play magazine Some like it hot–red-hot. Like, for instance, Jennifer Saunders, a 20-year-old “modern primitive” who doesn’t mind making contact with small pieces of metal heated to nearly 2,000…
Waiting for his trial to begin, J.D. Campbell smiled the confident smile of a prominent citizen, a pillar of the community of Peoria. Sitting in a small justice courtroom in Peoria on August 9, the local real estate mogul and businessman seemed certain that justice would smile back. Clad in…
As this matter unfolds, you will find that what happened to Mr. Jordan was the kind of random violence that all the public is concerned and afraid of. It could have been any of us. It could have been anybody who happened to get tired at that time. –Jim Coleman,…
On a moonless, June night, a purple light bobs and hovers along the barbed-wire fence marking the northern boundary of the Gila River Indian Reservation on the far side of South Mountain Park. Joe Bigelow is hunting for scorpions, scanning his ultraviolet lamp across the desert gravel until a scorpion…
One of Sarah Dugan’s last thoughts before her life changed forever was particularly sweet. It was the morning of November 2, 1990, and Sarah was at work as a quality-control supervisor at the American Express administrative complex in north Phoenix. She walked over to a colleague’s desk inside the building…
August 5, 1993, was not a good day for the Anderson family. The Andersons have for many years operated topless nightclubs in Kansas. Recently, they tried to set up shop in Arizona with a club in which the dancers would most likely be scantily clad but not topless. Last Thursday,…
One of the enduring privileges of being an editor is brushing up against the ideas, aspirations and suspicions of the teeming masses. The suspicions are particularly interesting, because they often lead down paths that converge at the Trilateral Commission and/or cattle mutilators. After lawyers, ministers, therapists, psychics and relatives have…
We have to distrust each other. It’s our only defense against betrayal. –Tennessee Williams If I had never trusted Dennis DeConcini, things would never have gotten so bad. That’s why it’s so hard to be around him these days. You sense the aura of approaching doom. His eyes are set…
The 1969 Chevy pickup truck that Yuma farmer David Davidson sold to Jesse Van Myers was rusted and in dire need of repair. But that heap of a truck was what Martin Mowbray, an administrator with the Farmers Home Administration, needed to nail Myers. Myers had been the federal lending…
Chuck Bowden, the lizard king of Arizona authors, is shedding some skin this summer. A Tucson-based essayist, bird watcher and former newspaperman, Bowden has made his literary nut writing books full of his own deep, dark rumblings about life in the Sonoran Desert. His latest book, Trust Me: Charles Keating…
Until the 1960s, the banks of the canals that flow from the Salt River and fan across Phoenix were oases, de facto promenades bordered by shady cottonwoods. Phoenicians walked there and swam there, and, according to many an old wag, even water-skied. But in the 60s, swimming in the canals…
Environmentalist Debbie McQueen was aghast last October when she opened the public file she had obtained from the state Department of Environmental Quality. The file was on Marsh Aviation, a crop-dusting company that had been the subject of numerous McQueen complaints. Inside the file, McQueen found a handwritten note that…
Too many of Joe Calo’s friends in the Italian-restaurant business and the drug trade here in Phoenix were being systematically murdered. Seven died in less than a year–June 1988 to February 1989. The cops figured this could not be written off to mere coincidence. Especially since in so many of…
Arizona liquor czar Howard Adams is under attack from his own people. They are concerned that the kind of politicking and deal cutting that led the Arizona Republic to dub Adams the “Mr. Inside” of Phoenix City Council in the late Eighties does not translate well to the field of…
Tom Owens leans against the gas pump at a convenience mart in Pinetop–a tiny, tree-shaded town on the edge of the Mogollon Rim–and spits a huge glob of tobacco juice on the asphalt. As he fills the tank on his cherry-red pickup, he glares disapprovingly at the clipboard-toting young woman…
