Prescott Valley prides itself on patriotism.
Recently, the Yavapai County town about 90 miles north of Phoenix — where, according to the U.S. Census, roughly one in every 10 residents are veterans — sought to salute all of them by finding a really big rock.
Actually, it was a 38,000-pound boulder from nearby Prescott. Hoisted into place by a 120-ton crane, this colossal stone sits beneath a gazebo in Prescott Valley’s grassy civic center.
It’s now the town’s crown jewel — a hand-painted tribute to some of the Grand Canyon State’s famed military heroes, featuring portraits of Ira Hamilton Hayes, Lori Ann Piestewa, the Navajo Code Talkers and Pat Tillman.
Birthday cake and a really big rock
“Freedom is not free. It’s not cheap, it costs a lot,” said retired U.S. Navy Master Chief machinist Gary Winkelman. “And that’s what your veterans have done. So thank every veteran you see for their service, because there’s a lot going on underneath there.”
Winkelman, who goes by “Wink,” was the guest of honor at a late June dedication.
The town estimates more than 400 guests attended the June 27 observance, including Navajo Code Talker direct descendants and members of the Hayes family, who hail from the Gila River Indian Community.
Last fall, Winkelman met the artist — Iowa state Republican lawmaker Ray “Bubba” Sorensen II — when he spent two weeks in town bringing his vision for Arizona’s first Freedom Rock to life. Sorensen had already planned on painting the state’s namesake battleship, which sank to a watery grave at Pearl Harbor.
But Winkelman, a fellow Iowa native, convinced him to add the new USS Arizona — a soon-to-be commissioned nuclear-powered attack sub. The Vietnam submariner’s suggestion was met with an unexpected joke.
“Everybody said, ‘Well, it’s already there, you just can’t see it,’” Winkelman said as the crowd laughed. “We’re known for that. We never get much glory, but you know what, I says, ‘We’re always around.’”
Both USS Arizonas are front and center.
The pair of sea vessels appear right beneath an illustration of Cpl. Hayes and a band of Marines raising Old Glory atop Mount Suribachi. Ashes of a deceased veteran were mixed into the red, white and blue pigments used to paint those Stars and Stripes fluttering over the island of Iwo Jima.
It’s something Sorensen has done with Freedom Rocks elsewhere to permanently bond veterans to his personal projects. The cremains belonged to retired U.S. Marine Corps Capt. William John O’Hara, the late father of Prescott Valley’s Freedom Rock Committee Chair Erin O’Hara.
She was once among the ranks of the most senior Army chief warrant officers.
Not only did she want to commemorate the new Freedom Rock, O’Hara desired to celebrate the nation’s looming birthday — just a week shy of the Fourth. So she threw together an early party that included the cutting of a white-frosted sheet cake with a ceremonial saber.
This time-honored military tradition is a rare occasion mainly reserved for when branches, like the Army or Navy, pause to remember their birthdays. But this cake-cutting was unique, in that it honored the armed forces in total ahead of this special Independence Day.
Each slice has meaning.
The first wedge went to Winkelman, recognizing his distinguished service. Then, a piece was presented to the oldest servicemember — symbolizing wisdom that comes with seniority. The third sliver went to the youngest to represent the military’s promising future.
‘They’re the best of us’
Prescott Valley is home to a high concentration of Iowans, including Lisa Harsh. Like O’Hara, she also sat on the town’s Freedom Rock committee. Most of its members are from the Hawkeye State.
Harsh recalls how this tradition started in 1999 — when Sorensen wanted to restore a giant rock standing 12 feet tall near his hometown after watching the Academy Award-winning Hollywood blockbuster “Saving Private Ryan.”
“I grew up by the original Freedom Rock, north of Greenfield, Iowa,” said Harsh. “And I would see the graffiti on it growing up as a teenager, and then years later I came back, and it was beautifully painted.”
Every May, the Iowa State art school grad returns there to repaint it with a different message to convey. Today, there’s a Freedom Rock in each of Iowa’s 99 counties. Now, his grand dream is to have one in every state throughout the nation.
So far, he’s ticked a dozen states and counting off his list.
“Those sketches are kind of what I call my paint-by-numbers,” said Sorensen. “And I start doing big blotchy colors, and then, as I’m letting each side kind of cure, I keep bouncing around and adding detail, detail, detail [upon] layer, layer, layer until I feel like it’s complete.”
When Sorensen was commissioned with not a single taxpayer dollar to paint Prescott Valley’s Freedom Rock, he was given a long list of names to consider. Then, he did his own homework before deciding who could fit onto his natural canvas.
“Ira Hayes is huge for me and to make not only his tribe proud, but his state proud — just an important guy in history,” he continued. “Like I always say, a lot of these guys’ stories read like superhero comics. I mean, they’re the best of us. My memorials — I want to tell specific stories, and I can’t tell all of them.”
He made sure to leave room for the late #40 himself: Pat Tillman. Sorensen described him as someone everybody wants their son to be — firmly believing “Pat just embodies America.”
Sons and mothers
Tillman, the 27-year-old Arizona State University football standout turned Army Ranger, was killed by friendly fire while touring Afghanistan in 2004. He gave up NFL fame and fortune as an Arizona Cardinals safety to enlist after the 9/11 terror attacks.
A day removed from Sept. 11, 2001, the NFL pro delivered a raw reflection: “You know, my great-grandfather was at Pearl Harbor and a lot of my family has gone to fought in wars and I really haven’t done a damn thing — as far as laying myself on the line like that.”
“And so I have a great deal of respect for those who have and what the flag stands for.”
In Prescott Valley, his mom, Mary, beside his younger brother, Kevin — who served in the same Army Ranger platoon as Pat — chuckled upon seeing the towering Freedom Rock for the very first time.
“His hair was, like, slightly blonder than it really was,” she admitted, “which Pat would love. He would have loved the fact they made him a little blonder, so I thought that was kind of funny.”
Otherwise, she thinks Pat’s likeness, as sketched by Sorensen, is spot on in a pair of images — both in uniform. One depicts him stoic-faced in Army fatigues. Another shows Pat kneeling down, smiling in his Cardinals jersey.
“They’re juxtaposed. It’s a good combination,” she added, “because he loved his family, he loved his friends, he loved to have a good time, but he was also very serious, and I miss his sense of humor.”
Hopi Lori Piestewa also died during the same conflict.
From one mother to another, Mary Tillman called her passing “so tragic,” expressing that Piestewa’s story “is very hard to hear.” The 23-year-old Army specialist was the first female casualty just three days after the U.S. invaded Iraq on March 20, 2003.
Piestewa’s son, Brandon, was just a toddler when she passed away. At the Freedom Rock dedication ceremony, Brandon shared how he was deeply touched by the mural portraying his late mother in uniform next to a Purple Heart.
“Like, I’d seen pictures of it already, and it doesn’t do justice,” he said. “When you think about it, it’s just a painted rock, but when you see the detail, everything behind it, seeing how the flag drapes over the rock tying into all [armed] services — truly amazing.”
“You can’t just look at it from afar. You have to be there in-person.”
