JEROME, ARIZONA

Perched precariously on the steep slopes of Cleopatra Hill, Jerome, Arizona, is a town that seems to defy both gravity and logic. It was once known as "the wickedest town in the West." Today, it's part haunted ruin, part artist haven — but it was once called "the wickedest town in the West." To understand Jerome, you must look under the ground and into its saloons.

     Jerome's reputation as "the wickedest town in the West" was earned with grit, booze, bullets, and a loose grip on morality.

     At its copper boom peak in the early 1900s, Jerome had about 15,000 people packed into a steep, chaotic hillside. With that many miners, smelter workers, and opportunists — and very few women not in “professional” company — lawlessness came baked into the layout.

Here’s why Jerome earned its sinful reputation:

     1. Brothels on Every Corner

• Jerome's red-light district — mainly Hull Avenue — was lined with cribs and parlor houses.
• Some madams, like Jennie Bauters, became wealthier than the town’s business people. Jennie supposedly charged double what her competitors did — and still had a line out the door.
• At times, the brothel district outnumbered saloons.
• Stories abound of fights breaking out over prostitutes, love triangles ending in duels, and marriages destroyed over a single night on Hull Ave.

  2. Booze and Bloodshed

• Jerome had more than 20 saloons during its heyday — and they were rowdy.
• Knife fights and gunplay were part of the nightlife.
• The local newspaper often had front-page headlines like:
• "GUNFIRE IN GULCH LEAVES TWO DEAD"
• Bar fights were so common that some saloons installed iron cages around bartenders to protect them from flying chairs and fists.

  3. Corrupt Law and Winking Justice

• Local law enforcement tended to look the other way — as long as they got a cut.
• Gambling was rampant and often rigged. Drunkenness wasn’t discouraged but expected.
• Powerful mine owners ran the town and had little interest in moral order as long as profits flowed.

  4. Fire, Disease, and Hauntings

• Jerome burned to the ground three times — primarily due to fires in the red-light district.
• STDs, overdoses, and tuberculosis were so widespread they often overwhelmed the local clinic, which reportedly refused to treat “fallen women” on Sundays.
• Death was common, and burials were hasty. That’s why Jerome also claims to be one of the most haunted towns in America.

  5. The Town Wouldn’t Die

• Even after the mines dried up and Jerome emptied by the 1950s, it held onto its outlaw identity.
• Artists and drifters moved in, drawn to its scandalous past and crumbling charm.

Bottom Line:

Jerome earned its nickname not just from a single scandal or bloody gunfight but from a consistent and enthusiastic embrace of vice, combined with a devil-may-care attitude that made Dodge City look like Sunday school.

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     Settlers built Jerome atop a volcanic caldera from ancient eruptions over 1.7 billion years ago. A caldera forms when an underground magma chamber ejects most of its contents, leaving no support for the ground above. The ground collapses, creating a wall encircling the fallen Earth. The region's dramatic uplift and the subsequent hydrothermal activity forced molten rock and mineral-rich fluids through cracks in the Earth's crust. When the fluids cooled, they left rich veins of copper, gold, silver, and zinc — a miner's fantasy buffet.

     Cleopatra Hill is part of the United Verde Volcanic Complex, and the metal deposits are known as massive sulfide ores. They're the type of treasure created when underwater volcanoes belch hot fluids into the ocean, precipitating metals. Except here, the sea dried up, stranding the treasure in the hills of Arizona.

     By the late 1800s, Jerome's ground was so copper-rich that it practically glittered in the sun — and with it came thousands of miners. The town boomed. Then, the buildings started sliding.

     Because Cleopatra Hill is so steep, land subsidence and faulting constantly challenged Jerome's structural stability. Whole buildings cracked, tilted, or slowly slid downhill. A jail once moved 225 feet from its original location — while still intact.

     Where there are miners with pockets full of copper dust, there will be women who see opportunity. Jerome didn't just tolerate brothels — it thrived on them.

     The epicenter of red-light activity was Hull Avenue, also known as "Crib Alley." The women worked in tiny one-room shacks called "cribs," often barely large enough for a bed and a basin. Their clientele? Sweaty, soot-covered miners fresh off a 12-hour shift underground. Romance was never the point — but survival was.

     One madam, Jennie Bauters, was something of a legend. Born in Belgium, she came to Jerome and quickly established herself as a savvy businesswoman. By 1905, she reportedly owned several properties, including a grand parlor house. She dressed in Parisian lace, drank top-shelf whiskey, and had a pistol in every drawer.

     Jennie's story ends like a classic pulp Western: she took up with a younger man, Dutch Joe, a gambler. When she tried to leave him, he shot her dead. Oddly fond of her, the town mourned her like a fallen queen. Some said her ghost still lingered in the brothel windows.

     Another quirky tale involves "Spook Hall," a community venue today. In its heyday, it was a raucous theater and brothel. Legend has it that a performer known as Miss Goldie Delight once rode a burro into the theater during a packed show, wearing nothing but boots and a feathered hat. The crowd roared. The sheriff, drunk on Gold Rush whiskey, applauded.

     Jerome nearly became a ghost town after the last mine shut down in 1953. Only a handful of stubborn souls stayed behind. Then came the artists — painters, potters, and poets who saw beauty in the broken.

Today, Jerome clings to its mountainside, shifting slowly as if the Earth hasn't decided where the town should rest. Tourists walk its narrow streets, shop for turquoise, and maybe — maybe — catch a whisper of a laughing madam or the creak of a phantom burro.

     Jerome is a place where geology and human grit collided most vividly. Copper made it boom, tectonics made it tilt, and the madams gave it a hell of a personality.