Where Legends Strode
The
man most responsible for the heyday of Old Tucson was
Robert Shelton, who made the magic happen in this legendary
“Hollywood of the Desert.”
By J.P.S. Brown
For
the Spaniard, who for centuries wooed his sweethearts
and warred against his enemies from the back of a horse,
the word caballero is the only term used to describe
a gentleman. The word literally means horseman. The Spaniard
so admires the matchless horse that he identifies the
figure he most admires—the gentleman—with the horse.
And although we have been given most of our cowboy tradition
and lore by the Spaniard through the Mexican vaquero,
we have added to that tradition as well—so much so, in
fact, that now the vaquero, in turn, has adopted many
of our cowboy ways. The cowboy knows why caballero is
a good name for a gentleman and the vaquero knows why
cowboy is a gentlemanly designation as well—and it is
all because those two husbandmen have been so affected
by their knowledge and admiration of the horse. |

Shelton,
right, played a gunfighter/ gambler in The Deadly Companions,
Sam Peckinpah’s first directorial
effort, with a cast that included Chill
Wills and Maureen O’Hara, as well as Brian Keith (not shown).
Shelton with John Wayne in 1965
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What are
we to say about the admiration arising from the rest of the
world—that is, from the rest of the world that has not been
raised in the tradition of the
horseman? How has it come to recognize the cowboy as a gentleman of honor?
One way has been through the cinematic arts and through the
vision and industry of
selfless gentlemen like Robert Shelton of Tucson, Ariz., who has spent his
life helping to put the story of the cowboy on film for worldwide
distribution. As
president of the legendary moviemaking location known as Old Tucson, he facilitated
this and more. For Old Tucson was more than a movie set; it also became a tourist
attraction that for 25 years received millions of visitors who revere the classic
Westerns made there.
Born in
1921, Robert Shelton was raised in Kansas City, Mo. He came
by his horsemanship by the immersion technique. As a teenager
he was put in charge
of a string of
horses, so he slept in the barn with them. By the time he was 38, he had
served in the Army Air Force in World War II, built a fine reputation
as an advertising executive, earned accolades as an accomplished
polo player, and mastered
the cattleman’s trade as owner of an eastern Kansas cattle
ranch. He also raised
and trained polo ponies.
It
was in 1958 that Shelton traveled to Tucson on vacation to
visit his
friend Jack Goodman. He told Goodman about a project that had
been his life’s ambition:
to build a frontier town on each end of the Santa Fe Trail. He wanted to
provide Western hospitality to anyone who sought it. Goodman introduced
him to the
chairman of the county’s parks and recreation board, who in turn took Shelton
out to see
Old Tucson. The town was falling down, its adobe buildings were eroded,
and its visitors were exposed to the merciless summer sun.
Built by Columbia
Studios in 1939 for the making of the film Arizona, it had fallen into
such disrepair
that it would have passed for an authentic ghost town. The county asked
Shelton to consider amending his vision to one of resurrecting
the town.
He did.
And it wasn’t easy. “When I took over, it looked like bombed-out
Berlin,” Shelton said. “However, it was on an ideal 320-acre site that
bordered on the
29,000-acre Tucson Mountain Park. The Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum that
had grown in popularity with tourists was right next door.”
Shelton
signed the lease for the site in July 1959, restored the town,
and drew 60,000 people for its opening in January 1960. It opened in
time to
serve as
location for the filming of Sam Peckinpah’s Deadly Companions, starring
Maureen O’Hara, Steve Cochran, Brian Keith, and Chill Wills. In one
year, Shelton
and his partners had revitalized Old Tucson as a major film location.
“So many
people thought I was nuts,” Shelton said. “My idea at first
was only to provide a theme park in the West where people could ride
a stagecoach,
feel
a horse, drink a frosted root beer. When the movie industry showed
interest, it just took off. I was fortunate, because the community
backed me completely.
“As advisors
in the building of the town, I had cowboy Jim Kenyon as a general
manager, along with six other good hands. In the beginning,
I sat
in my car
to write out their paychecks. Cowboys like Spec Wilson and ranchers
like Ralph Wingfield,
who had ridden the country horseback, helped me find locations.
Wingfield
was a lifelong friend of John Wayne’s.”
Old Tucson
soon became known as the “Hollywood of the Desert.” Only Hollywood
and New York City enjoyed more film business.
With the
help and advice of his early cowboy helpers, Shelton built
a stout, functional barn that served for everything from
a livery
stable to a stage
for a bareknuckle prizefight. Beside the barn he built shipping
pens so cattle could
be loaded on the town’s train. From MGM Studios he bought the
Reno locomotive,
an operational railroad steam engine built in 1872. From Paramount
Studios he bought freight and passenger cars.
Soon after
he arrived in Tucson, Shelton met and married Jane Loew. It
had been Jane’s grandfather Marcus Loew who had founded
the
Loew’s chain
of vaudeville
theaters and converted them into movie theaters when talking
pictures arrived. After that, he founded Metro Goldwyn Mayer
(MGM) in Hollywood.
Her father,
Arthur
Loew, was president of MGM. If all of this didn’t make her
well-connected enough, well, Jane’s maternal grandfather
was Adolph Zukor, who
founded Paramount Studios.
She and entrepreneurs Jack Goodman and George Masek became
Shelton’s investor-partners. Shelton made it his rule to
spend a week of
every month in Hollywood, where
he called regularly on studio heads to gather business for
Old Tucson.
Shelton,
right, with Robert Mitchum
during the filming of El Dorado
One day
soon after the opening, as Shelton crossed the Old Tucson plaza,
a stranger fell in step with him, introduced
himself as
the production
manager of a movie
company, and asked if the town would be available on certain
dates.
When Shelton
said that it probably would be available, he was invited to
meet the man’s boss. The boss who waited
behind
the church on
the plaza
was a huge
man named John Wayne. That day, Shelton and Wayne became
friends
and began an informal partnership in the making of cowboy
movies such as
McClintock
and El
Dorado that became classics.
Years into
their friendship, Shelton and his wife Jane happened to be
standing on a pier in Cabo San Lucas one
day when a
small boat
came to
shore from
a yacht that stood out in the harbor. A man stepped
out of the boat and asked for Bob
Shelton. When the latter identified himself, the inquirer
said, “Mr. Wayne wants you on his yacht.” Wayne had
converted a minesweeper
into a pleasure
yacht. He
loved to play bridge with Jane and somehow had found
out that the Sheltons were in Cabo.
“Wayne would
rather win $15 from me in a gin game than win a new movie contract,”
Shelton said. “He had a
high regard
and
respect
for the
cowboy and his habits.
Cowboys were the guys he most liked to hang around
with, because he related to them.”
While Shelton
was boss, more than 300 cowboy movies were made in the town,
and it became the second largest
paid
tourist attraction in Arizona,
second
only
to the Grand Canyon. That was only because, as
Shelton put it, “The Grand Canyon had a better designer.”
Old Tucson
played a prominent role for 60 years in shaping the world’s
perception of the Old West
and
Bob Shelton
was in charge
for its
best 25 years. In 1985,
he was forced to sell.
In 1995,
under the new management, it burned down and lost its greatest
attraction, the old
sets
on which
had walked
the great
cowboy actors
in their great pictures.
Rebuilt at three-quarters of its original size,
it became a miniature Old Tucson. Movie companies
became
less interested
in it and
so did the tourists
who had
flocked to the sets to see and touch the places
where their cowboy film idols had walked. Canada
began
to draw American
filmmakers
by giving
them tax breaks,
as well as scenery that was on a par with Arizona’s,
but far
less sunshine and no desert.
“I was distressed
when the companies turned to Canada because we had enjoyed
such wonderful
relations with
the industry,”
Shelton said.
“Trends happen.
Movie people don’t want to go to Canada,
but they hold onto their money better when
they do.”
Old Tucson
languishes again, even though the movie business has increased
fivefold
since
1990. The
industry spends
an estimated $15 billion
a year, but it won’t
be enticed back to Tucson on promises of
scenery and good weather alone.
On its current
website, Old Tucson still advertises that it played a prominent
role
in shaping
the world’s perception
of
the Old
West. This
is true, but
the movie location has not shaped anything
of any kind since 1985. Before it burned,
its new handlers promoted its Ferris
wheel more than it promoted cowboys. Its cowboys
were seen
only in
various arcs and attitudes
as they shot
each other
off the roofs of the buildings. The town
is open only on
weekends now.
Shelton
believes that the cowboy still plays a huge role in American
culture.
“There’s
a little bit of
cowboy
in all of
us,” he said.
“Even now, when
I ask a producer or director what he
would like to do most, he always says
he wants
to do a Western. Each of them thinks
that he will
be the one to make the best Western
ever. The cowboy is
every
American’s hero
and always
will
be,
because
he represents truth, honesty, righteousness—the
true culture of our country, the pioneer.”
Nowadays,
two different groups of filmmakers are working to buy Old Tucson,
each
expressing interest
in appointing
Shelton
as
an advisor
in its restoration.
One
of the companies is World Film Works
of Hollywood. The other group is
represented by Jack Thompson,
a veteran
producer
of Western
pictures. If either group
succeeds and Shelton has anything
to say
about it, Old Tucson will be
a predominantly Western town, but
not dedicated solely to Western films.
A contemporary
studio would be built where any kind
of movie can
be made, with Eastern city streets
and other new sets, in order to draw
the makers of films in other genres.
If Old Tucson
is restored, there are a lot of American cowboys who
would
like to see
Bob Shelton
back
in charge, because
he is the man
with the
vision to
make a success of it again. Jack
Thompson, who has been his friend
for 35 years,
calls
him one of the few true gentlemen
of the American West. “We need
him at
Old Tucson
again,” Thompson
said. “He
is of the
old school
and every
cowboy
is
indebted
to him, John Wayne included.” A nationally known novelist who has seen his own work translated
to the big screen, J.P.S. Brown is a regular contributor to American
Cowboy.
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