Elizabeth Gunter bought the Cochise Hotel from Fern Moore, the daughter of Mrs. Skinner, in 1958.  "I couldn't bear the thought of it being ruined" she said.   Restoration work began immediately.  Modern baths and heaters were installed in each room, plaster and paint were repaired, and the kitchen was modernized.  Mrs. Gunter joined the National Trust for Historic Preservation, which sent her materials to help in the work.  

The Liz Husband Years at the Cochise Hotel

"Liz Husband hired Lillie Harrington because she can do plumbing, electrical and carpentry work as well as cook.  Harrington's impatience, Husband said, occasionally offends guests because people are used to staying places like a Hilton, you know, and they're not used to country-type people."                               The Arizona Republic, by Sam Negri

"We've got one TV, but it doesn't work very good and I don't care if it never works."  Mrs. Harrington says.   The Phoenix Gazette,  December 28th 1977  by Kenneth Arline

Mrs. Gunter soon became Mrs. Husband.  Her family heritage being the Fulton family of steam engine fame, Liz Husband was one of the richest women in America at that time. 

"The next time your happy trail passes Willcox, Ariz., 85 miles east of Tucson on Interstate 10, do yourself a favor and take a short detour.  And hell, I'm not gonna put the knock too hard on the hometown of your favorite singin' cowboys, Rex Allen Sr. and Jr., but the real treat's down south, five miles off the interstate U.S. 666 in the well-presereved town of Cochise.  There you'll encounter a working museum/hostelry, the legendary Cochise Hotel & Waterworks.  The waterworks vanished with the passing of the steam engine, but the hotel still stands."                                                                                          Article entitled "Hotel is a Feather in Cochise's Cap", November 7th, 1982 by Miles Hood Swarthout

"The front doors locked, so you have to enter from the backyard through the kitchen, where you meet the proprietress, Lilly Harrington, and her half chihuahua / half coyote companion, Kitty.  As crusty as she is colorful, the caretaker belongs in the National Register of historic places along with the hotel she runs.  Her cooking's down home chicken ($6.50) or steak ($9) for lunch or dinner, eggs and biscuits for breakfast.  And it's served at Lilly's convenience, not the customer's, because when she yells "come and get it for I throw it out" she's not foolin.  The good chuck is enhanced by the hotel's early Western atmosphere which laterally drips nostalgia, beginning with the meals served at the communal dining table under an antique chandelier."                                                                                   Miles Hood Swarthout 

"The only two items available on the lunch and dinner menus are baked chicken and grilled steak.  The meals come with bowls of potatoes and vegetables from which patrons help themselves.  Breakfast consists of fried eggs, bacon, juice, rolls butter and jelly with as much dark, rich coffee as you can down.  "It's the same every day, I don't change a thing." Lillie said."                                                            Ole Magazine,  September 13, 1984  by Ron Rogers

"After dinner it was off to the parlor where guests can play the piano, crank the Victrola that accepts calenders rather that flat discs, or browse the small library of old volumes featuring, what else?  The Virginian.  The drawing room's crowning glory is a velvet covered carved wooden sofa reputed to have belonged to the Swedish Nightingale herself, Miss Jenny Lind, framed in the mid 1800s for her vocal control and florid cadenzas."                                                                                      Miles Hood Swarthout

"Upon retiring to one of the real brass beds in all five bedrooms, each room with a china washbasin, water pitcher and chamber pot.  Handmade quilts provide warmth, because the empty holes for the old Franklin stovepipes are still visible in the ceilings.  For less hardy sorts, the rooms have also been modernized with bathrooms and central heating.  The rates have recently been raised to $14 for a single, all the way up to $23 for the suite, but the catch as you can only stay two nights maximum, as the whole joint accommodates only 12, and as Lillie says, "How else would other folks come?"  The Cochise does have a few drawbacks, however.  There is no air conditioning, so Lillie warns prospective visitors about the heat in July and August.  No radios or TV wither, and as for enlightenment at the cocktail hour, it's strictly BYOB, because the hotel has no liquor license."      Miles Hood Swarthout

"As for the trains, well, they still roll.  All night long.  You can hear the Southern Pacific rumbling for miles over the lonely prairie, racing buffalo, its arrival punctuated by a blast on the air horn as it approaches the crossroads next to the hotel.  All night long.

For the whiff of an exciting, historic past, we're in debted to Mrs. Thomas B. Husband, who saved the hotel from being turned into a produce warehouse in 1959 and began restoration.  As receipts barely cover expenses and Lillie's salary, running the hotel is Mrs. Husband's favorite charity.   But there are other compensations, such as the hotel's centennial celebration staged last April by the costumed members of the Sulphur Springs Historical Society.  They gamboled between the little unincorporated community's antique shop, the old country store across the street and the hotel gift shop in an old harness shop out back behind Lillie's garden.  As for the privilege of living even briefly among such spendiferous antiquity, what are a few quibbles about trains passing in the dark?  You're supposed to stay awake and alert to appreciate the Apaches and the nostalgia, right?"  Miles Hood Swarthout  1982 story entitled "Hotel is a Feather in Cochise's cap"

"The sunshine of a winter afternoon streamed through the dining room window and danced off the place settings all neatly arranged around an old wooden table.  The setting could have been placed there 100 years ago.  And those who set the table just walked out the door and never came back.  The fantasy of staying here is only momentary.  It ends outside, when Sally Bartley emerges from the house across the street and says there's no room at the Cochise Hotel that night or any night soon.  This is puzzling.  The Cochise Hotel is in Cochise.  Population: 33.  What's a hotel doing here in the first place?  And, in the second place, why is it booked up?  Bartley answers by pointing to the guest register, a thick leather-bound book opened to about the halfway mark.  The guests who have signed the ledger are from everywhere.  Munich Germany, Bath England, Phoenix, Las Vegas.  "It's word of mouth", she explains.  "We don't do any advertising.  Those who stay here do it all for us."  Of course, a full house at the Cochise Hotel does not represent a staggering amount of income.  There are only five rooms.  Maximum guest capacity is 10 adults.  "We don't encourage children", Barley says.  "Were not childproof and there's nothing for them to do.  No television, no malls.  They can't appreciate the experience."  And pets are absolutely forbidden.  Most of the furniture in the hotel is older than the building itself.  The pieces were brought here from the Fulton family estate in Connecticut after the hotel was purchased by Elizabeth Husband.  Her father was William S. Fulton, founder of the Amerind foundation and Museum in nearby Dragoon.  Bartley took over the hotel about three years ago from Lily Harrington, who had been its mistress for many years.  She had been an assistant under Miss Lily, as she is frequently called in these parts, for about five years.  Miss Lily is now also in her 90s and lives in a retirement home in Willcox."                                                                                                                       Arizona Diary,  January 34d, 2000  by Sam Lowe

Elizabeth Husband passed away November 17th, 2002.  Her trust took over the hotel and her grandchildren took on the task of keeping the Inn alive.  William, Angi, Rosemary, David, Steven, Kenneth and Carla Adams.  They made several significant improvements to the property like a new roof and central Rheem air conditioning and heating system.  Unfortunately in 2007 complications ended their tenor as hosts at the hotel.  They cleared the families belongings and closed her down.  The Amerind Foundation assumed ownership and put it on the market for sale.  It sat, empty, and abandoned for nearly seven years.  With the new ownership Willie was kind enough to donated a few things back to the hotel and allowed the new ownership to purchase a several original pieces back in the hotel.

Mrs. Husband was born January 14, 1910 in Waterbury, Connecticut.  She owned the Four Spear Ranch and the Cochise Hotel and Gift Shop, and was the founding member of Lambda Chi Sorority in Willcox.  She was on the board of directors of the Amerind Foundation, Henry Ferguson Museum on Fishers Island New York, Cochise Community College Foundation, Cattlemen's Association, Arizona State Cowbells Association, Mayflower Society and the Santa Catalina Corral of Westerners International.  Her parents were William Shirley Fulton and Rose Hayen Fulton.  Her daughter Sherry Gunter Adams.  She was the widow of Kenneth Gunter and Thomas Husband.  

The kitchen during the Husband years at the Cochise Hotel

The bottles hanging on the apartment porch was the idea of Lillie.  They did not have a liquor license so the customers would bring their own and when the bottles were emptied, she hung them up as they are now.  Also photographed above is the bathroom and front porch.

William "Willie" Adams and his family Desiree, Angie and Dustin.