Quadrille de Mujeres library exhibit opens Saturday

The Maricopa Historical Society is honoring and celebrating Maricopa Stagecoach Days with the opening of new exhibits at the Maricopa Public Library on Sept. 11.

One of the exhibits highlights a much-anticipated performance at Stagecoach Days of the Quadrille de Mujeres.

This female equestrian drill team, organized by Maricopan Shirley Ann Hartman in 1965, came from all parts of the state to practice and be part of this unique group. The team, made up of 12 to 19 farm and ranch women, loved horses and harbored a crazy need for excitement. They performed in rodeo events such as the Scottsdale Parada del Sol, Tucson’s La Fiesta de Los Vaqueros and the California Rodeo at Salinas. In 1987, they rode in the Tournament of Roses Parade in Pasadena, Calif.

Their performance was about five minutes long, consisting of  a “Calvary Charge,” a Figure 8 maneuver and a “Collision Course,” in which the charging quarter horses missed each other by an inch (and sometimes didn’t). The breathtaking performance was set to the lively music of the “Orange Blossom Special” and had the audience sitting on the edge of their seats.

There were serious accidents over the years, but the performance was always completed. Much credit for the rave reviews for this team went to Shirley Ann Hartman’s strict no-nonsense training. An amusing claim by one rider reports, “There’s a little joke that goes around that says if you miss a meeting without a legitimate reason, you had better have a death certificate in hand at the next one.” But, she adds, “We all ride with the precision we do because of it.”

Some of the Quadrille members over the years besides Hartman were Jan Pratt, Eva Lena Koepnick, Debie Haught, Karen Whitewell, Pennee Murphree, Sylvia Osuna, Ruth Pew, Judy Honeycutt Blair, Molly Ralston, Nancy Wilkerson, Eleanor Diwan, Marlys Keith, Karen Ollerton, Kay Buechle, Kerry Pretzer, Gail Rochelle, Dawn Niebrzydowski, Kim Foster, Nancy Kauffman, Kelli Harer and Judy Fleming. Ages of the group’s members ranged from 16 to 60. Karen Whitewell and Debie Haught started when they were only teenagers.

How did you become a member of this team of wild women? Read how Brent Murphree’s mother, Pennee Murphree, became one of these “Crazy Women”:

“In 1975, I went to the annual “dustbowl” called Maricopa Stagecoach Days.  It is a small community with mini-gymkana, mini-rodeo, which raises money for the community.  As I watched the various events, as well as my four children who by now were covered in six inches of dust, an announcement was made that Maricopa’s famous (I had never heard of them) Quadrille de Mujeres were riding next.  Then fourteen crazy women blasted into the arena and proceeded to tear it up on horseback (boy, the dust really flew, then). Speed, beautiful horses, precision, gorgeous costumes (one zipper pulled apart during the performance and the blouse almost came off) and pretty gals.  I dusted off my kids, headed home for a bath, and decided that that was the kind of community service I’d like to do. I set a goal to ride with the Mujeres, but believe me it wasn’t easy.

 “I was a 35-year-old mother of four, working with my husband, Pat, in farming. I had found a new challenge in the Mujeres, as if farming wasn’t bad enough.  And, brother, I got one!  With Pat’s encouragement and help in hooking up the horse trailer, I was off to “drill.” I hadn’t been riding seriously for years, and had never pulled a horse trailer, so I had a lot to learn in more ways than one. I did have a beautiful quarter horse given to me by my dad. Ginger was the right color (sorrel) and size for the riding in the Quadrille. The Mujeres actually “liked” Ginger and “put up” with me. Horses must be registered quarter horses, agile and very fast. The only acceptable colors are sorrel, bay or black.

“A person does not just “join” drill. You are invited, and, after intensive abuse, the gals vote on horse and rider. They continued to abuse me for several years and finally decided that I could ride in the parades with them. My first parade was in Tucson’s Fiesta de Los Vaqueros. The Mujeres told me a week before the parade that I would need to make a costume (actually four), buy hats to compliment, get tack and so forth together.

 “Parades are really a miserable experience. You stand in line waiting for the parade to start for hours. The horses go crazy. It’s generally burning hot, raining, or freezing, and your hat is pinned to your head so tight you think you’re going to die (if you lose your hat you do).  But, you wave, smile and hold your tummy in as if this parade is the most important event in the country.

“My next step, riding flag, was explained to me as being a very important advancement. Cruel and unusual punishment might be a better description. While the drill proceeds at crazy speeds to the tune of “Orange-Blossom Special,” the flag riders dodge in and out, taking their lives in their hands all the time trying to keep a hold onto the flag. Your hand shakes almost as hard as your legs, which by now you can hardly keep in the stirrups. After several years of performing as flag girl, I was beginning to think there might be a better way to end it all.

“But, alas, how could I turn down another promotion, and this time in “drill proper.” Well, you are told who your partner will be and what position you will ride. You’re told everything in “drill.” Those I have referred to as “they,” the leadership or the “drill directors,” have never heard of democracy. “They” demand concentration, hard work and practice, practice, practice. They don’t notice bruised legs, smashed fingers, aching backs or wrecked horse trailers.  Just be there! “Drill” comes first.

“So, with my desire to ride with these gals finally realized, I began to wonder where my brain was on that fateful day when I first saw the Mujeres. However, I have gone on to greater glory, even getting my picture in the newspaper. Of course, you couldn’t tell which gal I was, but I was in there.

“One sure way to make the papers is to hit the ground, get knocked cold and lay there while the rest of the team finishes “drill.” That happened to one gal. Thank goodness she had friends and family to drag her out of the arena. You never, never, stop “drill” during a performance, no matter who or what hits the arena floor! 

“Yes, we have a roaring good time “drilling.” If you are female, can stay on a good, fast, quarter horse, be able to practice every Tuesday, are slim and trim, don’t bruise easily, can make financial sacrifices (costumes, hats, tack, horse, trailer, boots, tiara, etc.), love rodeos and parades, and have good hospital insurance, come join us!”

Photo courtesy of Maricopa Historical Society

Editor’s note:  Maricopa factoids are a regular feature on InMaricopa.com. They are provided by the Maricopa Historical Society, a branch of the Friends of the Maricopa Public Library. Most of the photos and information come from “Reflections of a Desert Town” by author and historical society chairperson Patricia Brock.