Train Robbers of Arizona
Arizona, a land of stark beauty and unforgiving landscapes, played host to a series of daring train robberies in the late 19th century. These acts, born of desperation, greed, or perhaps a touch of rebellious spirit, have become woven into the tapestry of the Wild West, adding a layer of intrigue to the state’s already colorful history. This article delves into some notable instances of train robbers of Arizona, offering a glimpse into the lives of the men who dared to challenge the burgeoning power of the railroads.
The era of train robberies in Arizona coincided with the rapid expansion of the railroad network across the American West. These iron horses, carrying passengers, mail, and valuable cargo, became tempting targets for outlaws seeking quick riches. The vast, open spaces of Arizona, with its rugged terrain and sparse population, provided ample cover for these bandits, making pursuit and capture a formidable challenge for law enforcement. The stories of train robbers of Arizona echo through the canyons and deserts, whispering tales of daring heists and desperate escapes.
One of the earliest documented train robbers of Arizona occurred on March 21, 1889. The Atlantic and Pacific train found itself halted at the remote Canyon Diablo station. A group of four robbers, their faces likely obscured by bandanas, stormed the express car. After a frantic search of the strongbox, they absconded northward with their ill-gotten gains. Yavapai County Sheriff William O. O’Neill, a man known for his tenacity, immediately assembled a posse of three deputies and embarked on a relentless pursuit. The chase stretched over 300 miles, lasting for two grueling weeks, before the lawmen finally sighted their quarry in Southeastern Utah, a considerable distance, approximately 40 miles east of Canyonville.
A fierce gun battle ensued, with over 50 shots exchanged between the posse and the fleeing robbers. Miraculously, only one of the robbers’ horses sustained an injury. Undeterred, the fugitives abandoned their mounts and plunged into the rugged mountains, hoping to evade capture on foot. However, the determined posse, fueled by a sense of justice and the thrill of the chase, soon apprehended the men.
The captured robbers were identified as William D. Sitrin, known as "Long John" Halford, John J. Smith, and D.M. Haverick. A search of their persons revealed approximately $1,000, a significant sum in those days. An amusing, albeit unsuccessful, attempt by the citizens of Canyonville to apprehend the desperadoes added a touch of levity to the situation. The would-be vigilantes were quickly disarmed and forced to retreat by the train robbers of Arizona, highlighting the audacity of these outlaws. The return journey to Arizona was circuitous, taking the prisoners around Salt Lake. During this leg of the journey, John J. Smith managed a daring escape through a car window, further underscoring the challenges faced by law enforcement in dealing with these resourceful criminals.
Another audacious train robbery unfolded on September 30, 1894, near Maricopa. In this instance, a through express train was targeted by Frank Armer, a young Tonto Basin cowboy of just 20 years of age. Displaying remarkable nerve, Armer climbed over the coal tender of the engine and, brandishing a pistol, forced the train to stop at a predetermined location where his accomplice, a man named Rodgers, awaited. The robbers secured only a meager amount of loot.
Before the robbery, Armer and Rodgers had employed a clever tactic to confuse potential pursuers, riding in circles across the desert to obscure their tracks. However, their efforts were ultimately foiled by Native American trackers, who, utilizing their superior knowledge of the terrain and keen observation skills, were able to pick up the trail. Rodgers was apprehended far down the Gila River, while Armer was captured at the home of a friend near Phoenix after a shootout with Sheriff Murphy and his officers, during which he sustained a wound.
Armer’s story took a tragic turn after his conviction. Sentenced to a 30-year term at the infamous Yuma Penitentiary, he made three desperate attempts to escape its formidable walls. His first attempt involved digging a tunnel, which was discovered just before it reached the outside world. A second attempt saw him break free from a rock gang, only to be forced to take cover under a hail of bullets from a Gatling gun mounted on the prison wall. His third escape attempt involved hiding during outside work, but he was eventually tracked down in the Gila River bottom by Native American trailers. Ultimately, Armer’s health deteriorated due to consumption (tuberculosis), and he was released from prison, only to die shortly thereafter in the arms of his mother. Rodgers, on the other hand, received a 40-year sentence but was released after serving only eleven years due to exemplary conduct.
The exploits of Grant Wheeler and Joe George provide another captivating chapter in the history of train robbers of Arizona. On January 30, 1895, they held up a Southern Pacific train near Willcox, successfully robbing the through safe of $1,500 in paper money. The method they employed was particularly audacious. They used dynamite to breach the safe, placing the explosive charge on top of sacks containing Mexican dollars, which were also being transported in the car. The resulting explosion was devastating, not only cracking open the safe but also nearly demolishing the express car. The force of the blast propelled the silver coins outward, turning them into shrapnel that peppered the surrounding desert, embedding themselves in telegraph poles and the car’s timbers.
The aftermath of the explosion became a macabre spectacle. Sections of the telegraph poles and the car, riddled with silver dollars like plums in a pie, became prized souvenirs, displayed for years in railroad and express offices along the coast. Despite the destructive force of the explosion, only $600 was lost from the silver shipment. The robbers initially escaped into the hills, seemingly disappearing into the vast landscape.
However, their greed led them to return for more. On February 26, they attempted to stop another train at Stein’s Pass. This time, however, they made a critical error, disconnecting the mail car instead of the express car, resulting in no loot. W.M. Breakenridge, the peace officer in charge of security for the Southern Pacific line in southern Arizona, took up the trail. He pursued Wheeler into Colorado, finally cornering him near Mancos on April 25. The following day, surrounded and realizing the futility of his situation after a brief exchange of gunfire with the pursuing posse, Wheeler took his own life.
These are just a few examples of the daring train robberies that occurred in Arizona during the late 19th century. These stories, passed down through generations, have become an integral part of the state’s folklore, reminding us of a time when the Wild West was still very much alive and the railroads represented both progress and vulnerability. The tales of these train robbers of Arizona continue to fascinate, offering a glimpse into a bygone era of lawlessness, adventure, and the enduring allure of the American frontier.
