Sharlot Mabridth Hall (1870-1943) When she was a child of twelve, Sharlot and her family moved to the Arizona Territory from Kansas.
The Halls, a ranching and farming family, lived fairly isolated from daily contact with the wider world, spending little time in nearby Prescott.
Hall received very little formal education, but learned literature and a love of the written word from her mother, Adeline. She began writing poetry at the age of eleven or twelve, expanding her writing to short stories and historical articles as she matured.
Through the high quality of her writing, both prose and poetry, in her early thirties, she received a position as assistant editor of Out West magazine, a Los Angeles monthly publication of historian, anthropologist, and writer, Charles Lummis.
By 1909, Hall was serving as Arizona's territorial historian; the first woman appointed to public office in the Arizona Territory. Two years later, while still at this post, the first edition of Cactus and Pine was published. It was during this same period that she began to see the need for a place to house and care for the artifacts, photographs, and written material that documented the early period of Arizona's history.
Hall leased the "Governor's Mansion" in Prescott in 1928 and started a museum with her personal collection. From that small beginning the museum that bears her name grew to cover a city block. It contains historic houses, several log structures, exhibit buildings, various out-buildings, and a modern Museum Center. A continually growing collection of artifacts and archival material is preserved for research, exhibition, and for future generations to enjoy.
SharlotHall was named to the Arizona Women's Hall of Fame in 1981; a fitting tribute to her contributions to the history and the literature of Arizona.
OTHER BOOKS BY AUTHOR:
Poems of a Ranch Woman 0-927579-03-0
Sharlot Herself: Selected Writings of Sharlot Hall 0-927579-04-9
Sharlot Hall on the Arizona Strip: A Diary of a Journey Through Northern Arizona in 1911
|Publisher:||Hall, Sharlot Museum Press|
|Product dimensions:||5.00(w) x 7.50(h) x (d)|
Read an Excerpt
O life is a game of poker
And I've played it straight to the end;
But the last chip's down on the table
And I'm done with the game, my friend.
The fire in my blood it flickers
Like a guttering candle light,
When the tallow beads in greasy tears
And the wind whips in from the night.
The deck was stacked by the Dealer
Before he would let me in;
The cards were marked, and I knew it
There was never a chance to win.
But I bluffed the game to a finish
Till He nodded and called my hand
Palms empty and crossed but the lips still smile
And the Dealer will understand.
"Motto for My Bookplate"
The whirling air takes form of dust
A wayward hour to fall again;
So whirling though takes form of books
Dust shaken from the minds of men.