Sunday, January 26, 2020

Two fires nearly wiped out the Gold Camp

“News is something somebody doesn't want printed; all else is advertising.”
William Randolph Hearst 


Fires documented before and after by H.S. Poley


 By Rob Carrigan, robcarrigan1@gmail.com

 Two catastrophic fires in late April of 1896 nearly wiped out the fast-growing Colorado gold camp city of Cripple Creek — near the height of its ascendance. Reporting on event, and its consequences, took up much of next decade in the local, national, and literary and historical analysis.

In one of the more fascinating studies of before and after the fires, Colorado Springs photographer Horace Swartley Poley documented what the town had been and how it struggled to regain its position in the scheme of things. 



He previously documented other events in the Gold Camp such as his  famous and exhaustive set of photos of the bull fights in Gillett in 1895. He completed fabulous work in his decades of documenting Southwestern archeology and Native American culture. His train and railroad photography rivals giants of the period, such as William Henry Jackson, Robert Richardson, and Otto Perry.


 
Poley, of course was famous for his work in the Pikes Peak region and throughout the West.
"Horace Swartley Poley created a major collection of photographic images of Native Americans in the southwestern United States. Born in Norristown, Pennsylvania in 1864, Poley moved to Colorado in the 1880s and was a resident of Colorado Springs for sixty-two years. Poley started a commercial photo studio in 1892 and remained an active photographer until 1935. In addition to his photographic work, Poley served as head of the U.S. Postal registry department in Colorado Springs. During summer vacations, Poley served as photographer with archaeological expeditions in Arizona, New Mexico, Utah, and southwest Colorado. He recorded landscapes, cityscapes, and events in the Pikes Peak region of Colorado. Poley was noted for his travelogue lectures employing his images in "magic lantern" shows," from Genealogy.com.
The Denver Public Library obtained the Poley collection in 1937.



The morning of April 25, 1896, before the first fire started, Cripple Creek Times quoted the city's then Mayor George Pierce.

"Our splendid system of waterworks and well-disciplined firemen makes is possible to control and extinguish the most serious conflagrations; henceforth, our citizens can be free of this terror."

Wire services and train dispatches relayed the difficult news of Cripple Creeks fire troubles in the spring of 1896. The following example appeared in The Daily Northwestern in Oshkosh Wisconsin on April 30, 1896, just one day after the second fire. The headlines screamed the news:



CRIPPLE CREEK'S LOSS.
FIRE DESTROYS THE MAIN PORTION OF THE CITY.
STARTED IN HOTEL AND SWEPT EVERYTHING BEFORE IT -- LOSS NOW ESTIMATED AT $1,500,000 -- SEVERAL FIREBUGS SHOT AND CAPTURED.
Cripple Creek, Col., April 30. -- The fire which started here yesterday afternoon proved a disastrous event for Cripple Creek. The entire business portion of the city was left in ashes and last night 1,000 people were left homeless, with a biting raw wind and the thermometer crowding the zero mark. No description can exaggerate the condition of affairs. Two million dollars worth of property went up in smoke this afternoon, with probably one-tenth of that covered by insurance. The loss of life is great, owing to the reckless use of dynamite in throwing down buildings that stood in the path of the fire, with the hope of erecting a barrier of debris what would stop further progress of the flames.
The fire started in the Portland hotel, where it broke out in half a dozen places at the same time, giving color to the report that the first fire of last week was designed by incendiaries that they might make a raid on the First National Bank which carried over $100,000 cash in its vaults to meet the payrolls of the district that mature tomorrow. The fire spread with a rapidity that can be compared only to the progress of the fire on Saturday. It could not be checked, and from the first alarm preparations were made to repel the destroyer. Special trains were run from Victor and Gillette to bring in miners with sticks of dynamite ready to use wherever there was any call for it. It was more common than water at a city fire, and the lavish use was productive of many fatalities. The Palace hotel, containing 300 rooms was one of the first places attacked with dynamite, and from the results it would appear that no warning was given of the impending explosion. As the walls tottered in response to the tremendous charges of giant powder the air was filled with shrieks of dying men, who had been caught in their rooms and dragged down in the wreck. Before the wreckers could offer any aid they were driven back by the flames that were rolling over the site of the hotel.
Thousands of homeless people shivered about camp fires or wandered among the ruins of this once prosperous city throughout the night. The cold was severe and toward morning snow began to fall. During the night, for a distance of a mile to the right and left, the burning embers presented a sight almost incomparable. Standing on the hill beyond the burned district and to the west, the picture was one of a huge bowl, with the steam rising above. Everywhere along the thoroughfares can be seen the work of dynamite, a great mass of kindling wood. A company of the Colorado National Guard is on duty in the unburned district. Numerous arrests have been made in the outside district, resort to which has been made by the vagrant element, which lately has infested Cripple Creek. All night fires were starting up occasionally on the placer. Where possible the residents pulled the houses down and if that failed, blew them up. They had no water in that portion of the city.
A rumor is in circulation that a man was seen in the act of setting fire to a dwelling on Capitol Hill and was shot by a resident, just as the fire bug was shot and killed by LLOYD THOMSON yesterday. Mayor DOYLE or Victor has employed two fire wardens for every block in the city, as it has been rumored that fire bugs are after that town as well as Cripple Creek. A man was caught late in the afternoon in the very act of firing the rear of the NEWELL company's store. He is in jail. The total loss by yesterday's fire is now estimated at $1,500,000. The insurance will probably foot up between $400,000 and $500,000.
Many other individual losses run as high as $20,000. All the local newspapers, banks and express offices, the telegraph and telephone offices and nearly all stores, restaurants and lodging houses are wiped out.
Two men were caught building a fire under a saloon in Poverty gulch. An officer fired four shots at them and they were captured. On their person was a bunch of skeleton keys reported The Daily Northwestern Oshkosh Wisconsin on April 30, 1896.



Studio bust portrait of the Poley family, about 1893. Margret Ferguson Poley has short bangs and wears a pince nez, a blouse and jacket with puffed sleeves and ruffled lace collar with a flower or heart charm. Frank Ferguson Poley has short hair and wears a shirt with probably a wide starched collar, Horace Swartley Poley has a mustache and wears a bow tie and jacket over a shirt with a straight, starched collar. Elizabeth Poley Schrader has short bangs and wears a dress with puffed sleeves and wide laced collar.
Margret Ferguson Poley, Frank Ferguson Poley, Horace Swartley Poley, Eliszabeth Schader and "about 1893" inked on verso.  

Thursday, January 9, 2020

Hindsight in 2020 and memories of 1970

Missing certain things from 50 years ago

By RobCarrigan1@gmail.com

As we hit 2020 this year, and I started thinking ...
I considered an earlier time, and things I had no earthly use for in 1970 — yet I still miss them now, 50 years later.

One of those things, of course, is pre-1970 Telluride.
Joe Zoline, a Chicago and Beverly Hills based businessman, taking a tip of a friend from Aspen from years earlier who suggested he check out Telluride, decided to create the ski area.
Zoline bought two ranches - Adam's Ranch and Gorrono Ranch, located on the mountain, and  showed up in Telluride for the first time in 1968.

Zoline employed Emile Allais, a French Olympic skier to help configure runs and lifts and consult on the design and layout of the mountain. He also hired Bill Mahoney and Ed Bowers to cut trails, clear slopes, and obtain land-use rights, mining claims, and water rights for the ski company. Zoline contracted ecologists and environmental planners and encouraged local preservationists to protect the Victorian-era town.

The Ski Area started in 1970-71 with snowcat skiing for $10 a day including a sack lunch. Five lifts were built, and the Telluride Ski School was founded in conjunction with the mountain's opening. Zoline's vision finally became a reality when the Telluride Ski resort officially opened on December 22, 1972.

At that time there was no access from town and skiers took a bus to the day lodge located on the western side of the mountain where Big Billie's is today. Proficient skiers could ride the five lifts it took to get to the top of the mountain, ski to town and catch the bus back to the day lodge three times in one day. While you could ski into Telluride, it was not until 1975 when Coonskin Lift 7 was built that the town and ski area were actually connected.

Another thing I miss from those days 50 years ago, is the role of newspapers in society.
Yes, I know there are still newspapers around out there ... But, it is not really the same.
For example: Just consider my newspaper tools at the time. I had a two-sided pack with a pouch in front and one in back, that I filled with Durango Heralds every day at the Post Office in Dolores. I carried with me a blue "Collection" book with tear-out tabs that I pestered customers to pay (at least for last month), on regular basis. I carried, or picked up,  a pocket full of dimes, nickels, and quarters from honor racks around town.

And the news in those days: In March1970, The United State Army charged 14 officers with suppressing information related to the My Lai incident.
Before that in February of 1969, President Nixon and his National Security Adviser, Henry Kissinger, discuss plans for bombing the North Vietnamese supply routes that went through Cambodia. In March of 1969, Nixon launches the secretive campaign called "Operation Menu" in which American B-52s carpet bombed the Eastern side of Cambodia. The bombing campaign lasted for over a year and took a great toll on the country as many civilian lives were lost.

In April of 1970, Nixon orders a secret invasion of Cambodia by US and South Vietnamese troops.
News of the invasion reaches the US and further fuels anti-war sentiments. People stage massive protests against the United States' involvement in Cambodia.
Several students are shot and killed by the National Guard at anti-war protests at Kent State University and Jackson State University. Soon after, Nixon withdraws forces from Cambodia. The United States chooses to continue the bombing of the country, which lasts until 1973.

In addition:
  • Jimi Hendrix dies of barbiturate overdose in London
  • Janis Joplin dies in a cheap motel from a heroin overdose
  • Simon and Garfunkel release their final album together, Bridge Over Troubled Water. The Title Track won the Grammy for song of the year.
Also in March of 1970, United States Postal Service workers go on strike.
Then the strike spreads to California and Akron, Ohio, Philadelphia, Chicago, Boston and Denver. A third of U.S. Postal employees walk out. President Nixon assigns military units to New York City post offices. The strike lasts two weeks.

But you have to consider, that in 1970, I am not really that old. I think about things that are probably gone now — but not forgotten.

Things like the Sportsman Center, which was up river from my house, and operated by the Rules at the time, where I could always buy those push-up orange sherbert tubes ... and my dad or mom, could go next door to that tiny liquor store and buy beer.

Or the Pogo-stick that endlessly ka-chunk, ka-chunk, ka-chunked on the neighbor's porch across the street at all hours of the day or night. Ka-chunk, ka-chunk, Ka-chunk. What the heck is that kid doing on a pogo-stick at 11 p.m.?

And always somewhat-serious for a little kid, I think of the Colorado plane crash of the Wichita State Football team near the Loveland Ski area in October of 1970.
"A twin-engine airliner carrying at least 40 persons, most of them football players and officials of the Wichita State University, crashed and burned high on the east side of Loveland Pass at 1:14 on Friday ... It was believed to be the nation's worst air tragedy involving a sports team," said the Rocky Mountain News then.

But on a positive note, they did remove cigarette commercials from TV that year. And the first Earth Day was announced and celebrated. The "most-trusted man in America" Walter Cronkiet at the time had CBS News Special then, and would celebrate the entire week.   Environmental Protection Agency was established as well.

And On May 17, 1970, Norwegian ethnologist Thor Heyerdahl and a multinational crew set out from Morocco across the Atlantic Ocean in Ra II, a papyrus sailing craft modeled after ancient Egyptian sailing vessels. Heyerdahl was attempting to prove his theory that Mediterranean civilizations sailed to America in ancient times and exchanged cultures with the people of Central and South America. The Ra II crossed the 4,000 miles of ocean to Barbados in 57 days.

Things I had no earthly use for in 1970 — yet I still miss them now, 50 years later.  I guess really do miss that Ka-chunk, ka-chunk, Ka-chunk of that pogo-stick — and other things from 1970.

###






Friday, December 6, 2019

Under an Elm tree from Massachusetts


“All our wisdom is stored in the trees.”
Santosh Kalwar

Local tree story has long and twisted roots

going back to the Father of our Country


By Rob Carrigan, robcarrigan1@gmail.com

The stories have been around for at least two centuries now...
Here in Loveland, for almost a hundred years we have staked our own claims of arborific celebrity and renown.
Beginning as early as the 1830s, legend has it that the Father of our country, George Washington, first took command of the American Army on July 3, 1775, supposedly reported in the words of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, under an Elm tree in Cambridge, Mass.
At 205 E Eisenhower Blvd. in Loveland, The Washington Elm Tree in the Walgreen's parking lot between Lincoln and Cleveland avenues, a sickly sprout of the tree first arrived in Loveland in 1932. Root shoots from the original Cambridge tree were sent to DAR chapters throughout the nation, including Loveland's Namaqua Chapter, and the tree was planted in the yard of what was then the Lincoln School. The tree is one of the few Washington Elm offshoots still thriving in the nation, but another DAR member is working to carry on the tree's heritage. Corrine Yahn, who teaches geology at Front Range Community College, works with Front Range laboratory coordinator Susan Brown on micropropagation. For about a year, Yahn says they've been using samples from the Loveland elm to essentially try and clone the tree.
For the original Cambridge tree, publication of the fictional "eye-witness" journal The Diary of Dorothy Dudley in 1876, furthered the legend and although George Washington did take command of the army on July 3, 1775, there is no official documentation stating that this event took place under the tree.
In 1923, the Cambridge Elm tree was very fragile and diseased. Workers from the parks department of Cambridge were cutting two of the remaining limbs. Upon cutting the second limb, the entire tree fell over onto its iron fence and brought the Boston Elevated Railway cable to within 15 feet of the ground. The tree was divided up into approximately 1000 pieces, and these were distributed to all states and their legislatures. The cross-section of the tree was sent to Mount Vernon. About 150 pieces were given to locals in Cambridge, a few hundred were mailed throughout the country, and some fraternal organizations received pieces as well.
In 1925, the legend was openly discredited at the Cambridge Historical Society (CHS), when Samuel F. Batchelder read a paper he later reprinted as The Washington Elm Tradition: "Under This Tree Washington First Took Command of the American Army" Is It True? Batchelder asserted forgeries occurred in the stories told about Washington and the tree.
Today, a plaque embedded in the pavement of Garden Street (at its Mason St. intersection) in Cambridge marks where the tree used to stand. The Cambridge Historical Commission (CHC) has called the association of Washington and the elm a "myth" but stated that "the image of the tree remains a symbol of patriotism in Cambridge.
According to Loveland historian Zethyl Gates, in an August, 1983 article for the Loveland Daily Reporter-Herald, a Loveland woman, Mrs. William Ward was regent of Namaqua D.A.R. Chapter and chair of the National Conservation Committee at the time, and through her efforts, a sprout of Cambridge tree was sent here to Loveland. "Only two other descendants of the original Washington Elm are in Colorado —one in Washington Park in Denver, and the other in Monument Valley Park in Colorado Springs."
"The Loveland D.A.R. received the elm sprout with much misgivings," wrote Gates.
"It was such a sickly looking sprout, barely as thick as a person's finger and only 15 inches long. Twice, it died down after being planted in the school grounds, only to have leaves reappear each time and finally show growth. The janitors of the old school took extra care of the sapling, and it thrived in spite of rough treatment from many scool children playing around it. Pranksters reach as high as they could to tie knots into the ends of the pliable young branches, or to braid several boughs together; young Tarzans would swing from its more than sturdy branches and still the tree grew."
In 1948, the Namaqua Chapter place a marker in a public ceremony and more than 300 local children took part. Later, the 58-year-old school was declared unsafe and then, demolished. Plans for a grocery store were announced and plans for removal of the tree, at the hands of progress were outlined but a community backlash "Saved the Tree."
"At a City Council meeting in March of 1966, three recommendations for preservation of the Washington elm in Loveland were voiced by City Councilwoman Lucile Erwin on behalf of the citizen's committee, and they were approved by council action... So the tree was saved.
"Albertson's is gone; so is the Sears store which occupied the site briefly. Yet the beautiful Elm tree remains, approximately 90 feet tall, with the typical urn shape for which these trees are noted. Perhaps we could say of Loveland's Washington Elm as we say of some people, suggests Gates.
"The rugged individualist grown strong through hardships can no longer be swayed by passing winds. His battered but firm frame and weather-beaten mein have a dignity that commands our admiration and respect."



###

Wednesday, November 20, 2019

More than 1,200,000 men already have graduated from the "University of the Woods."

CCC enrollees give themselves heart and soul

to the welfare of the Nation


By Rob Carrigan, robcarrigan1@gmail.com


The State of Colorado experienced a 'late spring' in 1933, with the deepest snow in the winter falling in May, but that didn't set back the formation and organization of a 'Forest Army' in woods of Colorado by the end of the year.

Major General Frank Parker, U.S. Army, the Commanding General 8th Corps Area, at Fort Sam Houston, Texas, described the announcement to commanding officers of Regular Army posts under his jurisdiction that the President had delegated to the War Department the duty of enrolling, clothing, feeding, quartering, transporting to work camps, furnishing medical service for, paying, keeping records of, and responsibility for the control and welfare of some 275,000 young Americans. Units for administration were to consist of approximately 200 men, and were to be called companies.

These men were not to be under military discipline, as are soldiers, would be subject to civil law only. The name of the new organization was to be the Civilian Conservation Corps.

Col. Sherwood A. Cheney, commanding the 2nd Regiment of Engineers and Post of Fort Logan, was one of the post commanders notified. He was directed to help organize and administer the Civilian Conservation Corps in Colorado. Thirty-five CCC companies began forming in the summer of 1933 and were located in the National Forest and Parks of Colorado. The intention was to compose nearly 50 percent of camps of Colorado men, with the remaining being enrollees from Oklahoma and Texas.

Clothing, tents, blankets, cots, cooking utensils, mess equipment, food and medical supplies were gathered for 7,000 men that were transported to the camps. Some of the camps were 85 miles from the nearest railroad and many of the camps were 400 miles from Fort Logan's command structure. That structure was small at the time, made up of 16, or so, officers, and 480 enlisted men.

The CCC groups were often 200 men in each camp, and spread out all over Colorado. Officers and enlisted men converted from duties that had earned them a strong, capable reputation in WW I as an expeditionary forces in France in 1917 and 1918, and tasked with running the CCC camps.

"The best non-commissioned officers and specialists of the Regiment were selected to act as first sergeants, cooks, and company clerks for the new CCC companies," reported military publications. Much of the clerical work of camps were performed by Fort Logan regulars. Additional officers were sent to help from Fort Warren in Wyoming, and For Sill, in Oklahoma, to help administer the Fort Logan Reconditioning Camp, until the CCC contingents could break off into the work camps.

Nearly 900 men from Denver and surrounding counties were fed, clothed, and quartered while awaiting weather conditions to move to the forests and parks, to new camps at 7,500 to 10,000 feet altitudes.

"The unusually heavy snows during May, 1933, prevented a May 1 occupation. By the middle of the month, occupation of camps began."

"With the exception of the medical service in the work camps, the District was organized, and was administered and supplied until the fall of 1933 by Regular Army personnel," according to History of The CCC in Colorado, produced by camp enrollees in 1936.

"By December 1, 1933, the great majority of Regular Army personnel had been relieved from companies, and had returned to their normal duties. Thereafter, companies and work camps were administered by reserve officers, with enrollee assistants."

"Slightly more than three years ago the Federal Government, in its desire to relieve hardship resulting from unusual economic conditions and conserve the natural resources of the Country, authorized the organization of the Civilian Conservation Corps. The undertaking of this giant task was made the duty of several government agencies, the principal ones being the Department of Agriculture, Interior, Labor and War," wrote Major General Frank Parker,  in a letter to outlining the accomplishments in July 27, 1936.

"From the very inception of the movement, there were many people who were somewhat skeptical as what could be accomplished by the Civilian Conservation Corps. From my personal observation, I know that the results which have been accomplished cannot possibly be over-estimated.These phenomenal results were due to some extent to the coordination and cooperation of the participating Federal departments. However, the credit for the success of the movement must be shared by the enrollees that make up the Corps. The determination with which the enrollees set about to perform the tasks assigned them is indicative of the spirit of young American manhood. It shows that they not only realize and appreciate the fact that the Civilian Conservation Corps affords them an opportunity to assist their families and themselves in a financial way, but gives to the Country, as a whole, lasting benefits," Parker noted.

"Since the beginning of the movement in April, 1933, more than 1,200,000 men already have graduated from the "University of the Woods." Not only have these men derived great benefit in the way of physical development through outdoor life and healthy living: but they have been afforded opportunities for improving themselves for return to normal walks of life, and make themselves better citizens," he said.

"It has been my experience that the members of Civilian Conservation Corps have accepted every responsibility thrust upon them, and have accomplished all their duties, in general, in a signal manner. Not only this, but they have been eager to take advantage of the educational opportunities in the camps which the government has so generously provide. All this shows clearly and unmistakably that the American youth has lost none of the strength and virility of his forbears, and that the members of the Civilian Conservation Corps can always be relied upon to give themselves heart and soul to the welfare of the Nation," General Parker recalled.

Photo Information:

Photo 1:
Civilian Conservation Corps workers shovel roadbase at Mesa Verde National Park. Some wear coveralls; another is shirtless. Floyd Boardman wears a white short-sleeved shirt, fedora hat, and tall laced boots.

Photo 2:
Clothing, tents, blankets, cots, cooking utensils, mess equipment, food and medical supplies were gathered for 7,000 men that were transported to the camps.





Thursday, November 14, 2019

Work feeds artists in Colorado Post Offices


Loveland mural by Russell Sherman.

"I realized the bohemian life was not for me. I look around at my friends, living like starving artists, and wonder, 'Where's the art?' They weren't doing anything. And there was so much interesting stuff to do, so much fun to be had ... maybe I could even quit renting."
__ P. J. O'rourke

Art murals go "Postal" in the 1930s

By Rob Carrigan, robcarrigan1@gmail.com

If you wander into any of 15 select post offices in Colorado, you can still see the remnants of a 1930s "New Deal" project to diminish artists' stress at the time — namely, the 'starving' part.

Here in Loveland, Iowa-born artist Russell Sherman painted it as he saw it at that time, "as a farming community in the shadow of Long's Peak, where bumper crops of golden grain was harvested; where sugar beets nourished by snow-fed mountain streams turned into irrigation canals, were processed in the sugar factory; where beef cattle munched their way to oblivion; where barns and farm houses spoke of the goodness of life," wrote local historian Zethyl Gates in the Loveland Reporter-Herald in 1979.

While painting the mural, Sherman and his wife lived in a cottage near Estes Park. He also painted a mural for the Rocky Mountain National Park agency in Estes Park, and later illustrated books and created a number of murals and lithographs representing the Western Scene.

"Sherman loved the West and his style compares favorably with that of other artists of the Regionalist movement championed by Thomas Hart Benton, himself and active naturalist who depicted small town rural life. It is interesting to note that Kenneth Evett studied under Benton, and painted a similar mural in the Golden Post Office," says Gates.



"Throughout the United States—on post office walls large and small—are scenes reflecting America's history and way of life. Post offices built in the 1930s during Roosevelt's New Deal were decorated with enduring images of the 'American scene,'" wrote Patricia Raynor, more than two decades ago for Smithsonian National Postal Museum.

"In the 1930s, as America continued to struggle with the effects of the depression, the federal government searched for solutions to provide work for all Americans, including artists. During this time government-created agencies supported the arts in unprecedented ways. As Harry Hopkins, Roosevelt's relief administrator said in response to criticism of federal support for the arts, "[artists] have got to eat just like other people," Raynor said.

Often mistaken for WPA art, post office murals were actually executed by artists working for the Section of Fine Arts. Commonly known as "the Section," it was established in 1934 and administered by the Procurement Division of the Treasury Department. Headed by Edward Bruce, a former lawyer, businessman, and artist, the Section's main function was to select art of high quality to decorate public buildings—if the funding was available, Raynor wrote.

Edward Bright Bruce managed the Public Works of Art Project (PWAP), the Section of Painting and Sculpture and the Treasury Relief Art Project, New Deal relief efforts that provided work for artists in the United States during the Great Depression.

Ned Bruce was a successful lawyer and entrepreneur before giving up his career altogether at the age of 43 to become an artist. However, like most artists during the Depression, he found it impossible to make a living making art, and grudgingly returned to business in 1932 as a lobbyist in Washington for the Calamba Sugar Estate of San Francisco. In 1933, President Franklin D. Roosevelt received a letter from the American painter George Biddle, who suggested a New Deal program that would hire artists to paint murals in federal office buildings.

Roosevelt liked the idea, and brought it to the United States Treasury Department, which oversaw all construction of federal buildings. Bruce had by that time made some connections in Washington, and he was asked to help organize the effort. By the end of 1943, all of the New Deal art programs had been shut down following Bruce's death. 

 Murals produced through the Treasury Department's Section of Painting and Sculpture (1934–43) were funded as a part of the cost of the construction of new post offices, with 1% of the cost set aside for artistic enhancements. Murals were commissioned through competitions open to all artists in the United States. Almost 850 artists were commissioned to paint 1371 murals, most of which were installed in post offices; 162 of the artists were women and three were African American.

The Treasury Relief Art Project (1935–38), which provided artistic decoration for existing Federal buildings, produced a smaller number of post office murals. TRAP was established with funds from the Works Progress Administration. The Section supervised the creative output of TRAP, and selected a master artist for each project. Assistants were then chosen by the artist from the rolls of the WPA Federal Art Project.

The Colorado Post Offices that once sported "Section" murals includes Colorado Springs, Denver, Englewood, Florence, Glenwood, Golden, Grand Junction, Gunnison, Littleton, Loveland, Manitou Springs, Montrose, Rifle Rocky Ford and Walsenburg. Two murals that were in the Colorado Springs post office (NRHP-listed, but NRHP document does not mention murals) were removed and installed in the Federal Building in Denver.



Section of Fine Arts mural entitled “Hunters, Red and White” painted by Archie Musick for the Manitou Springs post office in 1942.
A plaque near the mural reads: “Depression-era public art programs coincided with the heyday of Colorado Springs’ art school, the Broadmoor Art Academy: Its students and teachers painted murals in federal buildings nationwide. For Manitou’s post office mural competition, my father, Archie Musick, depicted the legend of Manitou’s springs: ‘the God Manitou in a fit of rage clubbing a quarrelsome chief.’ His frieze of Indian-trapper life across the bottom of the submitted sketch was so popular with ‘the brass in Washington…they told me to dump the main design and blow up the frieze to fill the entire space.’ Painted when many federal murals were nationalistic – just months after Pearl Harbor – this mural’s ambiguity and unusual dry-pigment/glaze technique are distinctive: ‘Hunters Red and White” embodies some historical suggestions from his friend, author Frank Waters – Manitou’s first cabin, explorers Pike and Fremont – but mostly Archie’s own inspiration from fantasy, pictographs, artist friends (including Japanese-American artists sheltering here), and the beloved local rocky landscape.”


Boardman Robinson’s “Colorado Stock Sale” mural still occupies most of a wall in the Englewood post office lobby. The post office was threatened with closure in 2010 but was saved after an outcry from local residents and preservationists.
Image by Broadman Robinson, Date:1940



Walsenburg mural.


Glenwood mural.


Littleton mural.




Thursday, October 31, 2019

Fear's power and the threat's proximity

  
“If you're not haunted by something, as by a dream, a vision, or a memory, which are involuntary, you're not interested or even involved.”
Jack Kerouac, Book of Sketches

 Close calls in our own back yard

 By Rob Carrigan, robcarrigan1@gmail.com

We tend to measure fear by how close it comes to us. If some thing threatens — especially in our own backyard, next door, or even down the street, we pay attention. That applies to the street near my house, on which I drive everyday to work.

"This town, known as Colorado’s Sweetheart City, had a little more sweetness than it could handle Friday," read a wire piece in the Los Angeles Times February 16, 1990, when the large storage tank exploded sending Molasses into the neighborhoods around the the Western Sugar Company in Loveland, Colorado.

"A molasses storage tank sprang a leak before dawn, spilling its gooey contents onto city streets and an industrial park. The molasses, stiffened by near-zero temperatures, flowed slowly and more than a foot deep about one-half mile down a city street. City officials estimated that about 100,000 gallons spilled from the tank, which was at an old sugar factory."

 It called to mind a much more devastating accident in the Boston area nearly 100 years ago.

"Around lunchtime on the afternoon of January 15, 1919, a giant tank of molasses burst open in Boston’s North End. More than two million gallons of thick liquid poured out like a tsunami wave, reaching speeds of up to 35 miles per hour. The molasses flooded streets, crushed buildings and trapped horses in an event that ultimately killed 21 people and injured 150 more. The smell of molasses lingered for decades," wrote Emily Sohn for the History Channel.

"Already pinned down by fallen buildings, some victims then became stuck in molasses. The liquid was a foot deep in some places. At least one person died by asphyxiation hours after the accident, Sharp says. Rescue efforts would have likely been easier, she speculates, if the accident had happened in the heat of July and the molasses had been able to spread further out from the tank."

Seems like an uncommonly cruel way to go, to me. 

Fortunately, the Loveland spill was not nearly as catastrophic. On February 16, 1990, when the large storage tank exploded sending Molasses into the neighborhoods around the the Western Sugar Company in Loveland, Colorado. It was a sticky mess even covered by the national news but no reported deaths.

Though, we are not always so fortunate. 

"On Sept. 26, 1973, an explosion trapped workers atop a grain elevator in Loveland, Colorado. Authorities summoned a helicopter to help rescue workers from the roof of the Big Thompson Mill and Elevator. The explosion destroyed a section of the "Big T" structure from levels three to seven. The section measured 25-feet in width. The Loveland Fire Department received mutual aid from the fire departments in Berthound and Fort Collins." according to Loveland Fire Rescue Authority archives.

“Loveland elevator blast kills two, injures five," read the Greeley Tribune at the time.

“A devastating explosion ripped through the Big Thompson Mill Grain Company Elevator in downtown Loveland Wednesday afternoon, killing two men and injuring five. The explosion, which occurred at about 1:45 pm, Wednesday, blew out the concrete side of the 90-foot structure and large chunks of concrete and other debris were thrown a block away. …" reported Mike Peters, Tribune Staff Writer.

" F. J. (Bud) Westerman, owner of a clothing store located less than 50 yards from the elevator, at 565 N. Cleveland Ave, said he thought the blast was an earthquake at first. … There was concern for a while that the 70-year-old elevator would collapse, and spectators were cleared from the area. The building was leaning toward the west, but Westerman said it has always “listed” a little. ….” Greeley Daily Tribune.  September, 27, 1973. 


Photo 1:
Big T explosion in Loveland.

Photo 2:
Rescue worker looks for survivor of  molasses spill in Boston.

Photo 3:
Tank collapse near Madison Avenue in Loveland in 1990. Loveland Reporter Herald photo.


Thursday, October 24, 2019

Outlaw, God's Problem Child in Centennial state


Colorado Has a Story to Tell

Willie and Colorado: To all the states I've loved before


By Rob Carrigan, robcarrigan1@gmail.com

Songs come easy to him, says Country music legend Willie Nelson.
"When I started counting my blessings, my whole life turned around," says Nelson's hemp-infused coffee beans as his first product in a recent health and wellness line called, "Willie's Remedy."
 According to Nelson's website, the coffee is infused with "certified organic, full-spectrum hemp oil grown in Colorado" and the coffee is sourced from smallholder farms in Colombia.
Nelson's brand is aimed at selling "non-intoxicating hemp-based products." His current wife, Annie, helps in the curating of the brand that will roll out more "hemp-based health and wellness products." 
The couple introduced "Willie's Reserve" in 2015. The cannabis brand helps tap licensed cultivators for their legal, medical, and adult-use cannabis products. The company claims when brewed properly, each eight-ounce cup of Willie's Remedy coffee will contain seven milligrams of hemp-derived CBD.
According to Willie Nelson himself,  his family's foray into Colorado and other connections started out as a remedy for several things.
In his recent autobiography "It's a Long Story, My Life, Willie Nelson,"  he explains.
"To take a break, Connie (another wife) and I went on a skiing trip to Steamboat Springs, Colorado. This was the winter of 1975. Because I didn't want to rush the vacation, I decided to drive. The skiing was invigorating and the cold mountain air did me good. On the long haul back, I got to thinking it was time to get serious about pulling some new songs outta my feeble brain."

The result was his album "Red Headed Stranger," which features the song "Denver."

The bright lights of Denver are shining like diamonds
Like ten thousand jewels in the sky
And it's nobody's business where you're going or where you come from
And you're judged by the look in your eye

She saw him that evening in a tavern in town
In a quiet little out-of-the-way place
And they smiled at each other as he walked through the door
And they danced with their smiles on their faces
And they danced with a smile on their face


Later, his wife at the time, Connie, talked him into relocating here in Colorado.
"Connie was convinced  I was helping too many friends and neighbors. After she and I enjoyed some great vacations in Colorado, she argued it would be the perfect place for a permanent escape," Willie said in his book.
Though he said he was not all that sure. Connie prevailed.
"If Connie wanted Colorado, well, let's move to Colorado. Colorado has fresh mountain air. Colorado has beautiful Vistas. Colorado has small towns where no one would find us. Connie found a hundred -acre ranch with a twelve-room chalet right there on the property," Willie said.
"She said it was perfect.
I said it was too far from Austin.
She said, if I had my own jet, Austin would only be an hour away.
I got my own jet.
We got the property in Colorado," says Willie Nelson's account.
"Once a Nashville renegade, later a favorite son of Texas, Willie Nelson boasts a popularity that has elevated him to a stature approaching that of a contemporary national folk hero," writes G. Brown in Colorado Music Connection.
Brown serves as podcast moderator, curator and executive director of the Colorado Music Experience. He has navigated the Rocky Mountain musical landscape for decades, both as a journalist and as a radio personality. He covered popular music at The Denver Post for 26 years, interviewing more than 3,000 musicians, from Paul McCartney and Bruce Springsteen to Bono and Kurt Cobain. He is published in numerous magazines including Rolling Stone and National Lampoon, Brown also covered music news and hosted and programmed for a myriad of Denver-based radio stations. He is the author of five books, including the award-winning Red Rocks: The Concert Years, Colorado’s Rock Chronicles and Telluride Bluegrass Festival: The First Forty Years.
"In the 1980s, the venerable country singer maintained residences in Texas, Malibu Beach—and a mountain home in Evergreen, Colorado, described as a two-story, 4,700-square foot Swiss chalet on a 116-acre estate. It included a large teepee. Nelson also found the Little Bear, a nearby bar that gave him a place for his music," Brown writes.
“I had lived down in Texas for a long time,” Nelson explained to Brown. “I wanted to get away for a little while just to check out the rest of the world. My nephew, Freddy Fletcher, had a little band, and they were traveling around. He was coming up to Colorado a lot. So one day I took my daughter Suzie and we drove from Austin up to Evergreen, up where Freddy had a little cabin. I thought, ‘Well, this is a spot to come to.’ The first place I had was up on Turtle Creek; then we bought a place over in Evergreen, on upper Bear Creek.
“But I only had a few days to spend at either Colorado or Texas because I was touring so much. I had a place in Austin with a recording studio and a lot of other different things—a golf course, for one—that were calling me back there. I had a run of bad luck with the weather in Colorado—every time I’d fly back home, it would be snowing! So I got to thinking, ‘Wait a minute, it’s snowing here, there’s a golf course over there—what do I really want to do?’
“So mid ’80s, I decided to head back and spend most of my time off down in Texas.”
Nelson owned the house in the Colorado mountains until November 1990, when it was seized by IRS agents who nabbed him for $16.7 million in “unpaid back taxes” for the years 1975 through 1982.
“I wrote a lot of songs while I was living in Colorado, had a lot of fun, did a lot of nice things that you can only do there,” Nelson said. “It affected me a lot of ways. I sure hated to leave, I know that,” according to Brown.