Allen Street's dirt adds to feud in Tombstone

The dirt would be a reminder of Tombstone's Wild West heritage, hiding the asphalt and curbs for a three-block stretch on touristy Allen Street, home to the O.K. Corral and numerous other Western attractions.

But the dirt brought dust, and many residents and merchants complained. To appease them, DeJournett had the dirt sprayed with oil in late March. It kept the dust down but created a grimy, wet substance that was tracked through stores.

Since then, the dirt has become more a symbol of Tombstone's politics than its Wild West heritage.

The issue dominated last week's City Council meeting, and a special meeting to look at ways to control the dust is set for next Monday.

It has been the main point of contention in a burgeoning newspaper war. One of the Allen Street merchants, Frank A. Groppo, has even threatened a lawsuit to have the dirt removed.

"Welcome to the town of confusion," said show cowboy Richard Blake.

He and fellow show cowboy Randy Templin were standing at the edge of Allen Street on Tuesday pitching gunfight shows to tourists.

The two talked about how the dirt dispute has been used to pit Democrats against Republicans and natives against residents from out of town.

"The politics here are just like 1881," said Templin, who is also a photographer.

Perhaps no place is that assertion more evident than the political feud between DeJournett and the man he replaced as mayor, Dusty Escapule.

DeJournett, 45, was elected mayor about 18 months ago on the platform he would maintain the city's National Historic Landmark designation.

The job, he acknowledged, is supposed to be nominal. It pays $240 a month less taxes, and he gets a vote at council meetings. But he took the landmark designation seriously, noting the city of about 1,500 could lose federal funding without it.

"The people were ready for a change," he said. "People expect to see old Tombstone."

A Republican with a gift for gab and an honorary membership to the Minuteman Civil Defense Corps, DeJournett is from Flint, Mich.

He moved to Tombstone about four years ago, but he isn't new. For more than 10 years he's owned property in the area, notably the Dragoon Saloon and an abandoned silver mine that he hopes to turn into a tourist site.

He said he will not run for re-election when his term expires this year.

Walking through Tombstone's historic district, DeJournett said the dirt was a product of a pressing need he felt to preserve the city's history.

Tombstone's historic designation has been threatened in recent years because of a certain collective license with fact.

Not all the dates on the city's buildings are accurate, and some building renovations haven't been true to original plans, he said.

Officials with the state agreed.

"There is a significant difference between historical truth and legend," said Bob Frankeberger, architect with the state's Historic Preservation Office. "Sometimes the legend takes precedence in satisfying the anticipation the tourists bring to the place."

It's that very point that Groppo and Escapule use to argue against the dirt, saying it plays more to tourists' expectations. The two are particularly angry that the dirt was put down without consulting the council or Allen Street merchants.

"It was put down illegally," said Groppo, whose wife owns Russell's Roadrunner, an Allen Street store that specializes in Western hats. "I don't understand why we're arguing about who likes it (the dirt)."

Groppo said he and Escapule are not politically aligned but have simply found a common bond in the dirt.

A Democrat and fourth-generation Tombstone resident, Escapule, 58, lost not only his re-election bid to DeJournett but also a subsequent recall in the fall.

He began publishing the weekly newspaper The Tombstone News in August and says he has no plans to run for office again.

The dirt does look good, he said, but he thought DeJournett should have gone through the council and notified business owners before putting it in.

He noted the dirt clogs the street's drains, and that it would turn to mud in a heavy rain. He hammers these points home in his newspaper, which regularly attacks DeJournett.

"I find it a little irritating that someone like Andree comes in and decides they know more than somebody who's been here for years," Escapule said.

As if to balance public opinion, a second weekly, The Tombstone Sentinel, hit the newsstands about two months ago.

Its editor, Jaye Kukowski, described the paper as objective. A recent edition, however, was highly supportive of DeJournett and published caricatures of Groppo.

For many residents, such heavy-handed politicking is a throwback to the days of Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday and the Clantons — only without the guns.

Templin, the show cowboy and photographer, noted that in the end, the only thing that matters is if the tourists like the dirt.

"It's our only industry," he said. "Without the tourists, this town would dry up."

Indeed, about 550,000 visitors grace Tombstone's board sidewalks a year, said Jean Sullivan, executive director of the Tombstone Chamber of Commerce. The city generated $681,693 in sales tax in 2005, she said.

The chamber is nonpolitical, but because the dirt has become such a hot topic, it went ahead and surveyed merchants and vendors on the matter.

The merchants showed lukewarm support, with 58 of 101 favoring the dirt, she said.

With tourists, however, the dirt was a smash. Out of the 352 visitors surveyed, 346 said Tombstone should keep it.

Such was the sentiment of many visiting Tuesday.

"I remember when I first visited here in the '70s," said Ivan Breshears, who was visiting from Missouri with his family. "It had asphalt, and it seemed kind of artificial. I like it a lot better like this."