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Born on Oct. 5, 1854, in Bridgwater, Massachusetts, Angie was 4 years old when her family headed to Kansas Territory.

Later, attending Kansas State Agricultural College that had recently opened its doors to female students, Angie readily admitted she and the other female students “studied hard but ‘played’ equally hard and broke the major portion of the twenty-eight college rules with surprising regularity.�

Angie taught in several Kansas schools before the family packed up again and ventured west in 1875.

Arriving in Prescott, Arizona, Angie was surprised at the lack of schools. Five years earlier, there had been no public schools in the territory. She had little trouble finding employment and taught in at least six schools along with running a small private school of her own.

Angie became engaged to rancher and Yavapai County deputy sheriff George E. Brown, but she was not yet ready to settle down. In the fall of 1880, she accepted a teaching position in the isolated mining district of Tonto Basin near Roosevelt Lake, becoming the first teacher in the area.

Initially, Angie lived with a family who had five children until a house and a schoolhouse were built for her. Accommodations were crowded but warm and friendly.

Made from mud, poles and weeds, the new schoolhouse had no door and was only large enough to accommodate 12 students. By November, 25 children crammed into the tiny building, ages ranging from 4 to 16.

While still living with the large family, Angie awoke one night to a loud purring noise. Peeking through a chink in the log wall, she saw the mouth and nose of a creature trying to get to her.

“As I darted back with a scream,� she said, “a big, furry paw stuck through the crack evidently trying to catch hold of me! I nearly fell out of bed … and roused the family with my shrieks.�

From the light of the moon, she spotted three lions prowling around the house. “After watching a while and being certain that no amount of clawing … would admit the lion reaching me, I fell asleep again and the last sound I heard was one of the big cats climbing up the side of the house to the roof.�

Another night, Angie was awakened by something licking her hand. “I drew it up with a jerk and … looked down on the floor and beheld a pretty little spotted skunk.�

The most harrowing experience Angie encountered occurred when over a dozen Apaches barged into the house at a time when all the men were away. Three women and several children were at their mercy. Two of the children managed to escape before the men saw them.

The Apaches tied up one woman before approaching Angie and the other woman. One of the men forced Angie’s head back and placed his knife close to her throat. “I must have looked surprised when he dropped my head,� she said, “and I discovered it still rested securely on my shoulders.�

The man slapped her around; the other woman had one of her earrings ripped out.

Expecting to die at any moment, Angie remained silent until one of the men began rifling through her trunk. As he picked up a bundle of photographs, she decided she had had enough.

Leaping from her chair, she grabbed the pictures and slapped the man. Throwing the photos into the trunk, she slammed the lid, locked the trunk, and dropped the key down the neck of her dress. Before the man could grab her, one of the other Apaches said something, and the man backed off.

After a brief conversation among themselves, the Apaches left except for the two who hovered over the women. Angie was pushed into a chair and faced the wrong end of a Winchester rifle. Finally, the remaining two Apaches headed for the door, promising to return later that afternoon.

The children who had escaped returned accompanied by an entourage of armed men. Everyone waited to see if the Apaches would reappear.

Before long, the two Apaches who had tortured the women boldly walked into the house. Facing an array of rifles aimed in their direction, the Apaches claimed they had been out hunting when they came upon the house accidentally. They only wanted to have fun with the women, they said, and did not plan on killing them. Since they had passes from the San Carlos Indian Reservation, the armed men had no recourse but to let the Apaches go.

“My goodness,� Angie remarked, “but this is a lively place to live — only it’s a bit wearing on one’s nerves.�

Before school let out that December, Angie and her students set off to explore the cliff dwellings at what is now known as Tonto National Monument. As with most of her activities, this excursion had a frightening moment when one of her students fell through an unstable floor and landed on piles of debris, including a sizeable array of prickly cholla cactus. The group spent the next few hours pulling out cactus thorns attached to the unfortunate student.

Angie left Tonto Basin that December to return to Prescott, but she was not yet out of danger. As the stagecoach made its way across the rocky terrain, the driver was suddenly thrown from the carriage. The horses took off on a wild ride, leaving the passengers hanging on for their lives. Finally, one of the passengers managed to climb into the driver’s seat and bring the horses to a halt before anyone other than the driver was hurt.

The following year, on April 20, 1881, Angie and George Brown married. They never had children.

In 1904, the couple moved to the Maricopa Indian Reservation after George was appointed agricultural specialist and superintendent of irrigation.

George died in 1906 and Angie followed him on Jan. 23, 1909, at the age of 54, her courageous and adventurous life finally at an end.