Growing up, I was the kid who could never find my name on anything. No keychains. No mini license plates for my bike. No mugs, magnets, or novelty pens. Every road trip souvenir rack was just another reminder that Jerome was apparently too exotic for mainstream merchandising.

Fast forward a few decades, and I finally found my place, literally. Welcome to Jerome, Arizona, where everything has my name on it. Street signs, shop signs, Christmas ornaments, and lots of T-shirts. I’ve spent a lifetime being unbranded, and now I can’t walk ten feet without seeing “Jerome” plastered on a sign. Naturally, I had to take photos next to every single one of them. (If you’ve ever been photo-bombed by your own name, you’ll understand.)

Once an abandoned mining town clinging to the side of Cleopatra Hill, Jerome was nearly lost to time after the copper boom went bust. But like me on a souvenir scavenger hunt, it made a comeback. These days it’s an irresistible mix of bikers, artists, and ghost hunters, all drawn to its eerie charm and killer mountain views.

Ghost sightings are practically part of the local economy and there’s no shortage of haunted hotels and spooky stories. Ghost tours leave nightly, often from bars with names like The Spirit Room (because of course).

When you’re done chasing ghosts, there are plenty of great restaurants to bring you back to the land of the living. I recommend grabbing a patio seat somewhere and just taking in the views. Jerome sits high above the Verde Valley, about a 2.5-hour drive north of Scottsdale, and it feels like a world away.

So, here’s to finally finding my name on something, or rather, everything. Jerome, Arizona: population 450, and one very happy Jerome finally feeling seen.