When the first US
government survey team set eyes on the Grand Canyon its
leader reported that the region was “altogether valueless”. When Fred Harvey
saw it less than forty years later, he knew it would make him a fortune.
Fred Harvey was a
man of vision. He left England
in 1850, a fifteen year old seeking his fortune in an America
gripped by gold-rush fever, but he got no further than pot-washing in a New
York restaurant. He learned fast, though, most
notably how the emerging middle class aspired to a luxury lifestyle, and he
became determined to provide it for them.
His own first restaurant fell foul
of the American Civil War, but with the cessation of hostilities he joined one
of the new cross-continental railroads, immediately seeing how the provision of
good quality fare at restaurants and hotels enroute would benefit passengers,
the railroad and, most importantly, himself. The Fred Harvey Company was born.
A fastidious man, Fred Harvey was appalled
by the conduct of his male waiting staff drawn from the cow-towns of what, in
the 1880s, was the height of the Wild West. He advertised in eastern newspapers
for young women, 18 to 30 years old, of
good character, attractive and intelligent and paid a stunning salary of
$17.50 a month, all found. His specially trained ‘Harvey Girls’, attired in
black with a white apron, reminiscent of the staff attendant in an English
tearoom, brought a sought-after decorum to long distance travelling just as the
West was opening up to a new industry – tourism.
Fred Harvey understood the merits of
preserving the landscape and the way of life of its indigenous peoples, even to
the extent of organising ‘Indian Detours’, a forerunner of the cultural tourism
we know today. If the participants weren’t always authentic, few patrons
knew the difference.
The Grand Canyon,
the prize of the Southwest, beckoned. By the late 1890s it could be reached by
stagecoach from the nearest railhead at Flagstaff,
but that took a bone-jarring eleven hours with little in the way of comfort to
greet travellers who managed to reach the south rim. When a spur line was
mooted, Fred Harvey decided he’d have a hotel of splendour to meet it. Alas, he
died in 1901, not living to see it open.
 |
| El Tovar, early 1900s |
The rustic El Tovar, built in the style of a European hunting lodge in stone
and spruce, remains the Grand Canyon’s most prestigious hotel, its elegant
entranceway a few steps from the rail terminus and a mere 20 feet from one of
the most awe-inspiring views in the world. If you want a room there mid-season,
you’d better consider booking it two years in advance.
The Fred Harvey Company finally took
possession of all concessionaires on the rim when the Grand Canyon was granted
National Park status in 1919, and the ethos of its founder has been preserved
ever since. There are no garish billboards or signage, no tacky gift shops or
litter. Even the pernicious automobile, just beginning
its ascendancy when Fred Harvey died, has been contained by some judicious planning
and the use of a free low-emissions shuttle bus service.
There are still
horses, of course, or at least sure-footed mules, waiting to take the
adventurous down to the Colorado River. Even in Fred Harvey’s time Bright
Angel Trail
had enough of a draw for a photographer’s studio to be sited on its lip. Kolb Studio still stands guard and is now a bookshop and exhibition hall showing
many of the Kolb brothers’ early photographs.
Every visitor, then or now, wants to
witness a sunset over the Canyon, to try to capture on camera the changing
colours of the buttes and mesas as they turn through pinks and reds to hues of
mauve and purple.
If dusk is full of shared murmurs of
awe and the clicking of digital cameras, a dawn is full of silent reverence as
small groups gather on the overlooks for the first glimpse of the Canyon bathed
in the light of a new day. No one says a word. Hardly a breath is taken as the
ambient light rises to reveal skeins of pale mist woven around the ghostly
shapes of rock formations millions of years old. In a diamond flash, sunlight
breaks the horizon and the piercing rays slowly make their way one mile down to
illuminate the hiking trails and ultimately the Colorado River.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Fred Harvey
gives you… The Grand Canyon.
