Sun, Jul 05, 2009
Ruth Ezzo, 80, recalls that all six Reid children helped out at Reid's Market, which her father started in 1929. With no evaporative cooling or air conditioning, perishables were kept cool on ice blocks, and in the summer the family slept outside. "We had an outdoor shower and . . . we would jump in it at night," Ezzo says.
David Sanders / arizona daily star
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Opinion by Bonnie Henry : Gila Bend before AC

Reid family made do in brutal heat while running market on main drag
Opinion by Bonnie Henry
Tucson, Arizona | Published: 06.26.2008
When temperatures hit the triple digits, Tucsonans hit the beaches, particularly those around San Diego.
But to get from here to there, you gotta go past Gila Bend, where summertime temperatures regularly stagger up to 110 degrees or more.
Today, most of us breeze by in our air-conditioned cars. That wasn't always the case for the weary traveler.
"They would come across the desert with no cooling," says Ruth Ezzo, whose father ran a grocery store in Gila Bend in the '30s and into the early '40s. "I know of at least three that died in the store."
Heat exhaustion, she figures. "We called Phoenix to come get them."
Back then, before Interstate 8 bypassed Gila Bend, everyone going to or from the coast rolled right through the town — and right past the store her father, George Reid, started in 1929.
"I was only 2 when we moved to Gila Bend," says Ezzo, 80, who was born on a farm that is now part of Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport.
"My brother says I was born where Terminal 3 is now," says Ezzo, showing off a birth certificate that gives Acre City, Route 1, as the family address.
There, on 80 acres, her father farmed vegetables, trucking them to markets in Phoenix, Ajo and Gila Bend.
It was while in Gila Bend that he noticed only one other grocery store in town and decided to make it two.
Reid's Market, they called it, named for its proprietor, George Reid.
The store had a full butcher case, with Ezzo's older brother holding forth as butcher.
Everyone in this family of six kids pitched in. "When we kids got home from school, we went straight to the store," says Ezzo. "We worked there after school and all day Saturday."
Round steak was 19 cents a pound, bread was a dime. And the chicken couldn't come any fresher.
"We had a chicken coop in our backyard. If a customer wanted chicken, we would go get one. My dad asked if they wanted it cleaned and dressed and of course they did, so my mother would do that."
There was no evaporative cooling back then, let alone air conditioning. "My brother would get a bucket, punch holes in it, put in water and hang it over the fan," says Ezzo.
Perishables were cooled down with ice blocks, courtesy of the town's ice plant.
And every customer got personal service. "There were no shopping carts. You came to the counter and we got it. We had to weigh everything — beans, potatoes, rice. Nothing came packaged."
Come summer, they turned off the hot-water heater and slept outside. "We had an outdoor shower and sometimes we would jump in it at night, get all wet, then go back to bed."
The town had one movie theater, one bowling alley — next door to each other.
"When we were in the movies, you could hear everybody bowling," says Ezzo, who as a teenager sold tickets at the movie theater and set up pins in the bowling alley.
A community swimming pool cooled things down. "I lived in that pool," she says.
When the war started, the Army set up tents behind the high school until Gila Bend Gunnery Range was installed. One night a young soldier, name of Joe Ezzo, showed up in town at a dance where the entertainment was provided by Ruth's brother and his band.
"Joe had been a drummer in a big band in Ohio," she says. He and Ruth were married in 1944, as soon as she finished high school.
"I did my last two years in one year so we could get married," says Ezzo, whose husband died in 2002.
Ezzo was only 14 when her father died back in 1941. "My older brother ran the store for a while," she says.
Then he sold the store, along with the farm their father had owned in Phoenix. "He sold that farm for $16,000 to the city of Phoenix," says Ezzo, who moved to Tucson in 1989.
As for that grocery store in Gila Bend, it's long been torn down, says Ezzo, though she's not sure just when.
Still, you can give a little nod to the store — and the Reid family — whenever you motor by.
The same thing holds true the next time you're wandering through Sky Harbor's Terminal 3.
Happy trails.
● Bonnie Henry's column also appears Sundays in ¡Vamos! Reach her at 434-4074 or at bhenry@azstarnet.com, or write to 3295 W. Ina Road, Suite 125, Tucson, AZ 85741.