05/07/2026
By the spring of 1877, a dusty stretch of trail between Prescott and Phoenix had become more than just wagon tracks and mesquite flats. Stagecoach drivers began stopping at a dependable spring tucked near an active wash, a place where travelers could water horses, patch wagon wheels, and catch news from both territories north and south. What started as a simple rest stop soon became known as Jackson.
No one agrees exactly who gave it the name. Some say it honored an old cavalry scout named Jack Pulliam who first mapped the route. Others claim it came from a stubborn female mule driver named Mary- who refused to leave until someone built a proper whiskey house. Either way, the name stuck.
At first, Jackson was little more than a corral, a cookfire, and a canvas trading tent. But everything changed when a pair of prospectors, Brian & Jamie Hauser, discovered a rich copper seam in the low red hills several miles west of town. The discovery surprised nearly everyone—Jackson sat away from the larger mountain ranges where most men expected to strike mineral wealth. Yet the ore proved rich, and before long, mule teams were hauling copper from the Jackson Copper Claim day and night.
Within two years, the settlement had grown into a thriving frontier town.
At the center stood the two-story BJ Ranch Hotel, the pride of the settlement. Its downstairs offered hot meals and rooms for traveling businessmen, miners, ranchers, and stage passengers. Upstairs, a dozen modest rooms overlooked Main Street, where lanterns burned well into the night.
Next to the hotel stood the General Store, stocked with flour, coffee, to***co, lamp oil, mining tools, calico cloth, and sometimes fresh mail from Prescott. Next door, the Jackson Saloon served whiskey, hosted card games, and occasionally settled disputes—peacefully if possible, loudly if not.
Behind the main street sat the livery and stables, where horses could be watered, shod, or traded. Teamsters and ranch hands often rented space there before continuing south.
Simple miner cabins dotted the edge of town. Built of pine logs, they housed everyone from young prospectors chasing fortune to widowers looking for a fresh start. Some cabins were rented by the week, others by the month—many intended to stay only briefly, yet never left.
But Jackson wasn’t only about work.
What made Jackson different from other mining camps was its spirit.
Near the center of town, an open gathering yard shaded by lanterns and pine poles became Jackson’s heart. On Saturdays, fiddles, guitars, and banjos filled the evening air. Weddings were held beneath string lights and rough-hewn arches. Ranch families danced beside miners still wearing ore dust on their boots. Children chased each other through wagon wheels while old-timers swapped stories over coffee and whiskey.
People passing through often planned to stay one night. Many stayed much longer.
By the early 1880s, folks across central Arizona knew Jackson as “the copper town that remembered how to celebrate.”
When the mines closed in the 1940’s due to the rising war efforts, the town dried up and most moved on.
In 1963, the Kingston trio wrote a song about Jackson and in 1967 Johnny Cash and June Carter re-recorded it and took it all the way to number 2 on the Billboard charts.
Today, its residents are a couple who want to share the history of Jackson and let photographers and videographers use the remnants of the town as a backdrop for amazing pics and videos as well as host events showcasing the spirit of Jackson.
“Yea, I’m goin’ to Jackson… and never lookin’ back!”
*No historians were harmed in the making of this story.
