by J. Bueker
    There is an amazing abundance of activities these days of which kids may partake during the long, hot Phoenix summer. In addition to hanging out at the numerous air conditioned shopping malls scattered throughout town, the youth of today can choose from an embarrassingly rich array of other options, such as ice and roller skating, organized sports, video games, paintball, web surfing, cable and satellite TV, water parks, kid's clubs and for that matter, year round schools. For some of our more unruly youngsters, the exhilarating rigors of summer boot camp may be in the offing.
    Certainly, this has not always been the state of affairs. When I was growing up in the '60s, the opportunities for summer fun were decidedly more limited in scope and overall quality than those enjoyed by today's juvenile population. To a great extent, my siblings and I were very much obliged to create our own fun, which required no small amount of persistence and youthful ingenuity.
    Those of us bereft of a real swimming pool at home would frequent the public pools at Sunnyslope and Washington High Schools for relief from the unrelenting heat, and Sahuaro School offered an exceptionally good summer recreation program in conjunction with the City of Phoenix. Naturally, everyone would be sure to return home by 4 P.M. to view "It's Wallace," lest the latest adventures of Gerald and his monster go unobserved. As during the rest of the year, this classic TV show provided reliably high quality entertainment for one and all, including our parents. And the price was certainly right.
    Chasing and collecting the countless tumbleweeds that blew into the neighborhood during the intense summer dust storms was another very popular pastime for the kids on Joan De Arc, as was the building of forts out in the fields to the immediate east and west of the subdivision. In fact, I can distinctly recall one summer when we constructed an exceptionally impressive fort from the tumbleweeds themselves on the east side of the Humphries' house.
    The popular network TV shows of the day inspired countless hours of make believe fun as we played "The Man from U.N.C.L.E.," "Lost in Space," "The Time Tunnel," and of course, "Star Trek." I well remember Julie Mitchell's ingenious adaptation of an ordinary clothespin into a hand phaser, thus making available a virtually endless supply of that formidable weapon for our crew members, that is as long as our mothers did not notice them disappearing from their clotheslines. The Dickey's enclosed back porch made a dandy "bridge" for our Enterprise , although I do seem to recall the Mitchell's garage being used for the same purpose on a number of occasions. Meanwhile,  Mark Wells and I were devoted "Lost in Space" players, and we made good use of Art Wells' discarded radio equipment for our Jupiter 2 on the Wells' back porch,  in addition to the impressive radio antenna that towered high above the Wells' house for many years. We had a lot of fun.
    Some summertime activities proved to be less desirable than others, however. A case in point would be the disturbing phenomenon popularly known as "Vacation Bible School." My brother and I were sternly required to attend those two week long sessions at Larkspur Community Church for several Junes in the mid-60s, presumably to ensure our proper moral and spiritual development. While the ultimate effects of this instruction remain decidedly debatable, the nature of the ordeal was such that a lifelong ingrained aversion to organized religion arose in the two of us that has persisted ever since.
    The activities at Larkspur Vacation Bible School consisted of such profound endeavors as pasting cut-outs of Jesus and the Disciples into a storybook, memorizing prudently selected tracts of scripture, drawing pictures of Noah and his animal pals, and learning Protestant hymns to sing in the choir at the end-of-school program for our parents, which was carefully contrived to showcase our spirtual strides.
    Actually, the singing was the one part of the school that I truly enjoyed, but even this aspect of the experience was ultimately unsatisfactory. One year, our choir teacher organized us for our presentation to the parents by lining us up and telling us all to simply remember behind whom we were supposed to stand as we filed into the chapel for our performance. Predictably enough, when the big night arrived, the lad behind whom I was designated to stand was nowhere to be found. The little bastard never did show up. Thus was my stage fright anxiety immeasurably exacerbated by my inability to locate my assigned place in the choral procession. These sorts of misadventures can leave lasting scars on a young boy's psyche that do not always fade with the passing of time.
    Once released from the throes of religious indoctrination, however, we found the summer to be genuinely quite enjoyable, in spite of the sweltering heat and general lack of "stuff to do." In fact, the vague desire to chase tumbleweeds and swim in public at this time of year seems to linger with me still. And while the urge to return to Vacation Bible School has never surfaced in my adult life, I do give thanks to the Lord that I am under absolutely no obligation to ever do so. I suppose it can be said that I did indeed develop some spirituality at Larkspur Community Church after all.

                The Copper Belle experience
by J. Bueker
    Dining out in Phoenix used to be rare treat, at least it was in the Bueker family. Local restaurants back in the day actually possessed a certain amount of character and atmosphere, at least when contrasted with the big chain monopolies and ubiquitous fast food factories that now dominate the dining landscape in the Phoenix area. Unique eateries such as Neptune's Table, Green Gables, Alpine Village and The Islands supplied their clientele with a genuinely charming environment to accentuate the quality dishes and refreshing beverages dispensed upon their premises. Oddly enough, the emphasis at this time was not upon herding as many people as possible in and back out the door through the course of the evening, but upon making the dining experience as pleasurable as possible for each and every customer.
    All of which brings us to Copper Belle. This quaint little culinary establishment existed on the north side of Camelback Road just west of 16th Avenue for about twenty years, from 1960 to its closing in 1979. A classic theme restaurant, the Belle was designed on both the interior and exterior to resemble one of the riverboats that originated from Yuma and navigated along the Colorado River during the early years of Arizona's development. The whimsical motif even included portholes, river scenes and fish incorporated into the walls inside the windowless structure, which succeeded in creating a uniquely intimate and charming atmosphere. The marbleized tables were relatively small and in close proximity to one another, and this made for a surprisingly cozy and friendly ambiance.
    Naturally, the bill of fare at Copper Belle was possessed of a decidedly southern sensibility, with such delectable offerings as Jambalaya, Louisiana Prawns and my personal favorite, the Southern Chicken Skillet. The Skillet featured deliciously prepared chicken, steamed rice, green peas and southern gravy with salad and french bread, all for a mere $1.50. The prices at the Belle were always exceptionally reasonable, with the most expensive item on the menu being the New York Steak at $2.85. The "River Boat Bar" offered an impressive array of high quality potables for those so inclined, and the overall service at the restaurant was usually quite excellent.
    It was not in the least bit unusual to espy a local celebrity or two taking their evening repast at Copper Belle restaurant, such was its relative popularity and the palpable dearth of quality places to dine elsewhere in town. The restaurant was a popular place to celebrate holidays and special occasions, and is said to have sold prodigious amounts of green beer every St. Patrick's Day. Copper Belle was open every day of the year but Christmas, and is still missed by those of us with a sentimental yearning for a smaller, happier, friendlier and less crowded Phoenix. And for good food in an enjoyable atmosphere requiring but a moderate expenditure of monetary resources.
    The Golden Phoenix, an inexpensive Chinese restaurant, now stands at the site of Copper Belle at 1534 W. Camelback Rd.

To view a Copper Belle tribute web site, click on this link .
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________JDA