September 6, 1990 |
The small Havasupai Indian tribe, which makes its home at the bottom of the Grand Canyon, was struggling to save its remote village Wednesday after a rainstorm sent a 12-foot wall of water through the canyon. The flood, which hit late Monday, destroyed two homes, damaged a dozen others and killed an undetermined number of horses, the only means of transportation for food, goods and mail, Bureau of Indian Affairs officials said.
December 7, 1993 |
Martin Goodfriend, a teen-age Polish immigrant who became a successful Santa Monica jeweler and city councilman and campaigned to better the lives of the Grand Canyon's Havasupai Indians, has died. He was 88. Goodfriend died Nov. 16 in Pleasant Hill, Calif., where he had lived for 12 years. Arriving in New York in 1920, the 15-year-old Goodfriend joined relatives in Duluth, Minn. He came to Santa Monica after his marriage in 1930 and founded Goodfriend's Jewelers.
December 24, 1993 |
Christmas Eve at the mall and the tension is so thick you can cut it with a Ginsu knife. A man dashes by with an armful of Isotoner gloves, all of them beige because that's the only color left on the shelves. A woman rushes in and, despite every refinement she may possess, utters a whoop of joy to find one last Salad Shooter in the housewares department. It's a war of nerves, this last-minute shopping.
September 9, 1990 |
Tim Uqualla was riding behind his string of fully loaded pack horses toward his village in the Grand Canyon when the biggest flash floods of his life roared down Havasu Creek, sweeping the animals away like toys. Each was weighted with six, 80-pound sacks of feed pellets. As the floundering horses vanished in the sudden wall of water, rock and mud, Uqualla was certain they would drown. Instead, the water made the pellets swell, causing the sacks to burst open.
May 2, 1999 |
The last time I saw the top of the North Kaibab Trail, it marked the turnaround point on a marathon hike. A group of us had left Grand Canyon Village on the South Rim before dawn, strode down to the Colorado River at canyon-bottom, then hiked up to the North Rim. There we made a U-turn and plodded all the way back, down and up, across the chasm. In a single day, I traipsed about 50 miles and made a vertical ascent roughly equal to the climb from base camp to the summit of Mt. Everest.
September 30, 1990 |
Alone in one of America's most popular national parks? It seemed, well, almost unnatural. But a ranger at Grand Canyon National Park in Arizona suggested that I catch the sunrise from Point Imperial on the North Rim--the highest point (at 8,803 feet) on either rim of the canyon. So the very next morning, ever the dutiful tourist, I made the 12-mile, sleepy-eyed drive from my cabin, arriving just in time to grab a seat on a flat rock for the first rays of the sun's colorful show.