Malcolm White had a good year in 1941 — and so, until December, did the peace. White, a booster with an instinct for what a small town needed next, converted a service station into Whitey’s Cafe and Bar (he would later build Scottsdale’s first movie theater down Main Street). For a crossroads of a couple of thousand people by most estimates, with no town government, a cafe counted as genuine civic infrastructure: somewhere to eat, drink, trade gossip, and watch the newsreels.
The newsreels mattered more by the month. On December 7, Pearl Harbor pulled America — and the Valley — into the war (the day has its own page), and the desert’s chief asset flipped overnight from tourism to training weather. Flat land, empty sky, and some 300 flying days a year made the Valley exactly what the Army’s flight program was about to go shopping for. Within months of the attack, construction crews would be at work on the farmland north of town.
White himself was only getting started. The cafe-and-theater man of 1941 would spend the rest of the decade boosting the town through its Chamber of Commerce, help push the slogan “The West’s Most Western Town,” and in 1951 be chosen by the town’s first council as Scottsdale’s first mayor. The town he was entertaining in 1941 — quiet, seasonal, ranch-flavored — had about a year of that life left. 1942 brought the biplanes.