GEOFFREY PLATTS

CAVE CREEK – The thousands whose lives were touched by the man who was a symbol for the preservation of his beloved Sonoran Desert are reaching out to say good bye to him in a variety of unique and special ways after his untimely death last week. Environmentalist and modern-day man of letters, Geoffrey Platts was claimed by the force he sought to emulate on the afternoon of Tuesday, Dec. 6, 2000 near the Devil's Hole area of the Verde River. He lost his footing while trying to help a friend who slipped and was carried into a pool of water. Platts, who admittedly was not a strong swimmer, was burdened by a pack and heavy clothing when he perished in the river that he so loved. He was 62.

In a region filled with character and characters Platts' with his British upbringing and devotion to the preservation of the Sonoran Desert was likely one of the most memorable characters still fresh in the thoughts of those he left behind. "There won't be another Geoffrey Platts any time real soon," said neighbor Shelby Wilson of his friend who some say was the conscience of the Preserve the Sonoran Desert movement that by now has become mainstream.

Those remembering the man who went to live in a one-room cabin after serving on the front lines of preservation battles over the Desert Foothills for several decades, are now talking about his passion for preservation, his British bent, his readings of his great literature and the thousands of post cards and letters that he penned annually. Platts' cabin had no electricity or running water. Friends describe the place as a "sea of writing and literature." Platts would go on solo treks into the desert for up to six weeks at a time. He made the ink, that he wrote to friends around the world with, out of walnut husks. He also did not own an automobile. It is for this reason that many of his friends recall the times they gave him rides while he was out walking on the road as their most treasured memories of him. At the time he was reveling in the beauty of his harsh surroundings on the edge of civilization while emulating one of his greatest heroes – Henry David Thoreau. His love of the man who stepped away from life to live a life of solitude at Walden Pond in the mid-1800s translated into his reference for Arizona writer and environmentalist Edward Abbey. "He was modeling Henry David Thoreau. He lived in a cabin and wrote," is how longtime Platts' friend and confidant Shea Stanfield recalls what led him to Camp Creek. "He looked at Edward Abbey (Abbey died in 1989) as a living Henry David Thoreau. He was in awe of the man." Stanfield, Wilson and others tell of a time when Platts was able to meet his hero when Abbey came to Camp Creek to visit Platts. This trip was arranged by fellow Desert Foothills resident and Arizona historian Marshal Trimble.

Late last year Platts was named Poet Laureate for the city of Scottsdale. It was in this capacity that wrote such pieces as “Ode to the McDowells,” a work dedicated to the preservation of the mountains that ring Scottsdale. Last March he wrote a poem about how wildlife will be allowed to flourish now that it looks like Spur Cross Ranch will be saved.

Friendship is a word also often mentioned when those close to him speak of Platts. Many considered him to be a walking contradiction due to his quest for solitude along with his love for his fellow man. They say that his quest for solitude coupled with his spirituality is what led to his reference for nature. Soon after his death a plan to preserve land in his name was afoot, an effort to eradicate tamarisk trees from Cave Creek wash was dedicated to him and large numbers of his friends gathered to hear tapes of his readings. The effort that Platts’ friends and fellow preservationists could become involved in in Platts' name concerns the preservation of the Jewel of the Creek property that serves as a doorstep to Spur Cross Ranch. Barbara Barnes, a longtime Platts friend who knew him from the days they were both involved with the Nature Conservancy, speaks of a grotto at the end of the trail that follows Cave Creek being perfect for a natural amphitheater that could be dedicated to Platts' love of the Sonoran Desert. The local Desert Foothills Land Trust is presently involved in efforts to purchase the area for preservation. The 25-acre property is scheduled to be auctioned off by the State Land Department in February. It is thought that the land trust will be the only bidder for the land that is a functioning riparian area and has much water in it in the rainy season. "I am concerned that we don't do anything without the family being part of it first," said DFLT board member Mark Hazelton of the possibility of the land trust joining forces with those wanting something in this area preserved in Platts' memory. "It would certainly be appropriate knowing Geoffrey Platts' love of the desert."

Those releasing the cherished memories of his friends range from people who accompanied Platts to Arizona to work at the Camelback Inn in 1961, to those who were touched by his letters, to those who were drawn to him for his thoughts on preservation. People wanting to say good bye to Platts in their own special way will have the opportunity to do so at a memorial service to be held Friday. The service is planned for 3 p.m. on Friday, Dec. 15 at Christ the Lord Lutheran Church, 9205 E. Cave Creek Road, in Carefree. Platts could be best known for his one-man effort aimed at keeping the lush Sonoran Desert free of housing projects and golf courses decades back. Even though it may be hard to prove, some close to him say that he was the phantom who decorated signs advertising subdivisions and other construction ventures in these years. "When you saw 'Save the Desert' spray painted it was Geoffrey Platts," said Wilson of Platts’ preservation efforts before he retired to his cabin on Camp Creek. Stanfield tells of a time when Platts used to walk up and down Pima Road kicking over real estate signs. Many also say Platts was the one who coined the phrase Disney Desert, a term used to describe the change in the natural desert after it is desecrated and then replanted. Well done Geoffrey! Hero to the end. What a great loss for so many. – Thomas Blaney

He long lobbied to have the word nature capitalized due to the reverence that he felt should be directed to it. On Saturday, a friend chose to remember him by telling about Platts' suggestion that the sun and the moon should also be capitalized due to the respect that should be directed to these heavenly bodies. Wilson is one of many who will miss the opportunities to engage Platts in deep conversations while giving him rides into town. He recalls that Platts' signature pouch, that he wore slung over his shoulder, would be half full of letters and post cards he intended to mail and half full of garbage that he would pick up off the road. "He was incredibly unique," Wilson, a Carefree architect, said. "He lived a life of poverty and simplicity, but he was richer than anybody." Sue Carneal, who lives with her husband Jeff within hiking distance of Platts' ramshackle abode, tells of her husband installing a solar panel on a hill near Platts' cabin to power one light that the writer and poet used to read by at night. The light was installed to reduce the risk of fire at the cabin as Platts had previously used kerosene lanterns to read and write by in the evening. She as well as Wilson tells of how the rides into town would often turn into verbal sparring over building in the desert and Platts' lonely lifestyle. "Half the conversations were my husband blasting him that he needed to get a car," she said. "When we talked he would say that we need to save the desert or we would lose everything," Wilson recalls. Many of these conversations were about the viability of the 8,000-acre Desert Mountain golf area. George Seitts, who along with his brother Mike got to know Platts when he lived on their parents' dude ranch near Pinnacle Peak in the early 1960s, tells of Platts promoting there being better ways that man and the other creatures of the Sonoran Desert could coexist. "He was ahead of his time on the basic issues," said Seitts, who also knew Platts through his serving on the staff of Arizona Senator Barry Goldwater. "He felt there would be a strain on the water and the wildlife." Stanfield, a local educator, tells of Platts shifting his energies to encouraging others who had an interest in preservation to take up environmental causes when he sought to step away from the front lines. "It got to the point when he just physically couldn't do it anymore," she said. "So he spent his time encouraging other activists." The plethora of post cards that Platts sent to the many he encountered are described by Wilson as "little bits of re-enforcement and encouragement." Often times Platts would include quotes from great literary works on the cards he penned in his own style of calligraphy. Stanfield points to the last card she received from her friend as a sort of a premonition. The card included a poem by Lord Alfred Tennyson entitled, “Crossing the Bar.” The work is about crossing over from one place to another. "He was one of the few people who I've known in life who walked his talk," she said of her feeling that Platts was a person who found a reality in nature that allowed him be his true self no matter who he was with or what the situation was. "Geoffrey Platts collected people," she said of his letter writing that spanned the globe. "As soon as he knew your name he started writing you."

In a tape of a 1991 Christmas reading that was played for friends on Saturday night, Platts spoke of his passion for communication. "One of my great pleasures in life is to share great thoughts," he said of his love of great literature. Hazelton speaks of Platt's ability to bring people of like minds together on preservation issues. He uses the removal of the tamarisk trees from Cave Creek wash on Saturday as a shining example of others carrying on with Platts' efforts toward preserving the desert. Platts had long advocated removing these types of trees from washes and other areas due to the harm they do to native vegetation, as well as the amount of water they suck from the aquifer. The flood in Wenden this fall is blamed on Tamarisk trees choking a wash and sending water flowing out of the banks. Stanfield remarks about Platts' innate abilities concerning the art of friendship. "When he was with you, he was with you. He wasn't thinking about the telephone or the fax machine. You had his undivided attention," she said. She adds, "When you needed him to be an intellectual he could do that. When you needed him to be your best friend he could do that. He could meet you there compassionately and empathetically and try to offer his insight." A friend at the Saturday reading remarked about how Platts had cautioned against the use of the term "best friend." He said that Platts suggested "true friend" instead. "He always said that the next person you meet in life could become your best friend," the man recalled. Mike Seitts, who also knew Platts from the Pinnacle Peak days of the early 1960s as well as through his own service to Senator Goldwater, remembers Platts as a lonely voice out in the desert. "He went out and did it," he said of how Platts lived what many others dream of. "I thought that in 1979 or 1980 that he would give up on it, but he never did," he said. "He just changed the way he operated." The new mode of operation after a couple decades of carrying a picket sign was Platts' letter writing campaigns as well as the expansion of his public readings.

Many of his readings were held at the Kerr Cultural Center in Scottsdale. It was through this venue that Sheila Frost, who also knew Platts through his regular visits to the Carefree Town Hall, got to know him better. She recounts some of the conversations that she would have with him when he would stop by. "He had truly achieved the very reason why we are here. That is a wonderful humanness," she said. "In my mind that is the true reason why we are here and work our way to go home which is where he went." Both of the Seitts speak of enjoying seeing Platts out on his treks throughout the years. Mike Seitts, who left his position with Goldwater years back to make a return to the Desert Foothills, recalls how Platts would compliment him for returning home. "I gave up the city, the job and the government. Geoffrey Platts liked that," he said. "He was a free spirit who liked people to go in a different direction." George Seitts tells of the time when he was contacted by people at the Arizona State Capital after Platts had dumped a garbage bag of cans and bottles in a capital hearing room while advocating passage of a bottle bill in Arizona. "Someone called and asked if we knew Geoffrey Platts and we all chuckled and said ‘yeah that's Geoffrey,’" he said. Both Seitts speak of how Platts' uniqueness was the quality that allowed him to be accepted by people from different walks of life in the Desert Foothills. "A lot of people thought he was an environmental whacko," George Seitts said. "We always said, 'hell, he is one of us.’" Liz Northcott, the director of the local Foothills Animal Rescue, has a different take on her friendship with Platts. This is due to her coming to Arizona with Platts along with several other British citizens to work at the Camelback Inn in the early 1960s. She said that when they got together the talk was about the good old days. She speaks with pride about the changes her friend went through on his journey to become one with nature. "I admired him for the way that he lived, his lifestyle and his love of the desert," she said. "I also admired him for the way that he stuck to his beliefs and stood up for what he believed in."