I enter the office of the Mayor of Bullhead City. The man in question, Shan Lewis, turns away from the window where he had been observing a protest of city militiamen demanding higher pay. He takes a seat and gives me a disarming smile.
Hope they didn't give you any trouble coming in, we'll negotiate something eventually.
I know Yuma must have painted us as un unruly mob, and I suppose compared to their government where everything's ordered down to the bootlaces we must seem like it for sure, but really everything here has its own sense to it.
I suppose it makes sense, too, considering how we got here. You see, in those first few weeks Bullhead City was in a good position. Isolated, with a fair stretch of arable land and an easy source of clean water in the Colorado River. The only hitch was, those farms were Fort Mojave Tribal Land, or were immediately adjacent.
Well, as it happened things were still getting sorted in those days, we had our issues with attrition same as any other place that came through the dying times, and law enforcement was...frayed.
And so, when a mob of people decided to do something, the government wasn't quick to put a road block in their way. Sometimes that worked, cause it meant people were quick to organize themselves and their neighbors, but on the other hand...
A lot of people - a certain type of people - decided they didn't want to find a way to trade goods from the city for food from the countryside. They thought it best if they could cut out the middle man.
[What type of people?]
He clears his throat.
Well, without sugarcoating it - folks who thought that if times were going to be hard and sacrifices were going to be made, it should be the Indians and Mexican migrants working the farms that had to be making the sacrifices and not good, hardworking white folks.
Understand, every part of Arizona had to deal with these types. I understand part of the infighting that brought down Phoenix was caused by far-right militias. But for whatever reason, in Bullhead City they were bolder and badder than in, say, Flagstaff or Yuma - if certainly not more numerous!
So first wind we caught of it was a dark evening, when a whole lot of torches suddenly sprang up on the main streets of the city. Well, that wasn't too strange, electricity was heavily rationed in those days and still is, but these torchlights gathered into clusters, then bigger mobs, until there was a stream of them heading south of the city towards the Reservation. There couldn't have been more than two hundred of them, but for what they were facing, that was a lot.
From all accounts they were quite the sight. Most on foot but a few in pickup trucks packed to the gills. Klansmen in pointy hoods to Confederate diehards to, shame to say it, a few law enforcement officers, and making no attempt to hide it. Scum of the Earth, and armed for bear. Luckily, they decided it would be easy, so they weren't too worried about secrecy. In their minds, they'd roll in during the dead of night, scatter the filthy lessers, take over the farms, set themselves up as plantation lords, and the rest of us would be serfs.
He flashes a feral grin.
As it happened, quite a few folks were opposed to that idea. Strongly opposed.
The Battle of Fort Mojave lasted for three hours. First shots were fired by tribal police, they'd set up a barricade when they got wind of the mob. A lot of the mob scattered, they were expecting to drag farmers from their beds, not trade shots with lawmen, and a lot had trouble shooting because of the way the mob was strung out along the road.
Still, some of them shot back.
He sighs deeply.
Tribal police held the line until reinforcements showed up. They were brave men, and most of them...they gave their lives. We raised a monument on the spot of the battle. Even when they rammed one of their vehicles into the barricade...
He gets a momentary far-off look in his eyes.
Well, when reinforcements showed up...it was just a farmer's militia of sorts but it was enough to turn the tide. And we had help from the city too, don't you forget it. Like I said, there were strong disagreements.
We rounded up what was left of the mob and...well, justice was served. No cops, no courts, no jails. Nobody was in the mood for those.
By the time day had dawned, the citizens hadn't dispersed, either. We'd marched right into the center of the city and camped outside the town hall. Things kind of spiraled but...no, I don't think anyone was in the mood to stop and think.
The constitution for the Free City of Bullhead was drafted that day, and a new mayor was put into place.
He reaches down unconsciously to brush the medal pinned to his jacket.
[What did the new constitution entail?]
A lot of things. Rights and liberties you can ask any citizen about, but you're probably wondering about the government. I'll be honest, we're rather hamstrung. It can be frustrating sometimes, but there are things you have to take in stride. Essentially, the city government has very little executive power. First everything has to go through the city council, then it has to be signed off on by the tribal council - which also has overlapping seats on the city council, mind - and then it goes to a plebiscite. And there's always a balancing act to be had, between merchants and salvage companies and farmers and unions and the mob...
But it works. We're establishing solid ties between Flagstaff and Yuma, there's more wealth the more you look, and if there's poverty the tradeoff is that nobody's forced to work like in Yuma or...those bastard legitimists in Cali.
And let me tell you this. Nobody, and I mean nobody, is going to try to pull something like Fort Mojave again. You can count on that.
Someone outside blows a shrill whistle. Mayor Lewis sighs and turns to face the windows.
Oh, and we'll get that sorted out too, eventually. Let them blow off some steam for a while, then I'll open negotiations with the officers.
[Are you worried about attacks by raiders?]
He looks back at me.
Hmm? Oh, no. For one, we have the light horse - they're the successor to the tribal police. They patrol the border and check on outlying farms, outposts, and settlements. Keep the roads clean too. We founded them at the same time as the new government was being founded, to root out anyone left who might've been in the mob.
[How did they do that?]
Lot of pointed questions, lots of knocking down doors. Quite a few people, er, mysteriously left town in those days, dunno where they went and nobody cares.
Anyway, raiders are an issue, but if a serious attack comes, you better believe the city militia will get itself together right quick.
He winks at me and folds his hands on his desk.
We may be a contentious city, but these days? We stick up for each other.
