It's not Arizona, but after a moderate first half of summer our southwestern sirocco has blown this way. 102 F is 39 C. This sign is on a bank and I assure you that nobody was walking up. This is America. We drive.
The hottest I remember in my years here is 106 F / 41 C. It sticks in my memory because a few people in my office had hired a teacher from the Alliance Francaise for weekly lessons. Her mother back home saw the reports on the news and called to ask if people were dying in the streets. Of course, that was before the same kind of thing started happening in France.
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