Into the territory of unasked questions

Back in back of the cabinet, with the cobwebs

By Rob Carrigan, robcarrigan1@gmail.com

If I could reach way back through the years, clear to the back of the cabinet of experience, and memory, place and understanding. Back with cobwebs ... I'd try to ask questions of them. Of Dolores, from which they came, of the past that made them, of the world they lived in.
A few, I met personally. Some, only by reputation. Others still, only connected by the stories I learned. Place, trace memory, the passage of time and stories... cobwebs brushed against my face, tickled and prompted the questions.
"Capitol's Who's Who for Colorado: A Triennial Reference Work 1941-1943," imprinted on the leather cover. Copyright 1941 by the Capitol Publishing Company.
"A man's true greatness lies in the consciousness of an honest purpose in life, founded on a just estimate of himself and everything else, on the frequent self-examinations, and the steady obedience to the rule which he knows to be right," the book quotes Marcus Aurelius in the forward.
R.O. Norman, editor wrote in January, 1941, "We have given frank recognition to lineage; to those founded in the native soil; to those destined to become the the ancestry of future generations of Colorado. These are the names which make the history of our state, making the work a contemporary history book."
I brush at the tickle of cobwebs.

At the names, I flap the dust rag. The first, on page 21.
• T.H. Akin. General store operator; legislator; born in Cleburne, Texas, Jan. 3, 1878; married Bertha Hammond, Dolores, July 8, 1903, Children Greta Mary: Owner of Akin Merc Co, 1907 __; State Representative, 1936 to date, Member of the School Board, Town Alderman; Mason; address, Dolores Colorado.

Page 110
• William J. Exon. General store operator, born Wabunsee County, Kansas, May 17, 1873: married Ida Ianth, August 1898; children Bertha may, Alice L. (Hyde); owner of Exon Merc for years; member of the town board, 20 years: director of Summit Reservoir and Irrigation Company, Chamber of Commerce, SR Mason (Master); home, Dolores, Colo.; office Exon Merc Co, Dolores, Colo.

Page 244
• William R. McCabe. Cattleman, County Commissioner; born Phillips Nebraska, June 27, 1893; Married Lola Morrison, July 30, 1919, children Stanley married, Vance Lee, Mary and Sheila; purebred Herford cattle 1907 to date; served U.S. Army, World War; Commissioner of Montezuma County 1934 __; Legionnaire; Member of Chamber of Commerce, address, Dolores, Colo.

Page 305
• Sam H. Philegar. Executive; born Higginsville, Missouri, June 6, 1874; married Lucille Christy, November 1905, Son James J., active in the automobile industry and in the manufacturing business 1900-1926; operator of Philegar Brokerage Co, Dolores, owner 1926 __; Mayor of Dolores 1938; past president of State Chamber of Commerce, director of the County Chamber of Commerce; Pythian, Elk: Odd Fellow; address Dolores, Colo.

Page 315
• Harry V. Pyle. Real estate executive, member of the state planning board; Born Canon City, Colo., Feb. 21, 1876; married Louisa Scharnhorst, June 11, 1899, children Lloyd C, Marie (Deham), Harriet (Manuel) ; with J.J. Harris & Co, 1900-1904; real estate business 1904 __; licensed broker 1926 —; Secretary Treasurer Summit Reservoir and Irrigation Co, Mayor of Dolores 1918; formerly City Magistrate and Justice of the Peace; member of State Planning Board, member of Chamber of Commerce, Fish, Gun Club; address, Dolores, Colo.

Page 384
• George D. Taylor. Hardware and implement executive; born Eskridge, Kansas, Sept. 22, 1882; common school education, son of Geo and Mary (Williams); began as a farm laborer, operator of Taylor Hardware, 1923 __ : president of J.J. Harris & Co, bankers 1932 __; also real estate interests, including large ranch East of Dolores; pioneered irrigation farming, Montezuma and Dolores Counties; address, Dolores, Colo.

Page 418
• Cecil H. Webb. Insurance and real estate executive: born, Peoria, Oklahoma, March 27, 1902, education , Western State College, Married Erin Plumlee, Oct. 11, 1924; Children, Marvin Herbert, Mildred Jean; with Roger Mills Co Association1920; Exchange National Bank, Oklahoma, 1920-21; various positions as stenographer and bookkeeper, El Vado, New Mexico and McPhee, Colo. 1921-1925, assistant cashier, J.J. Harris & Co Bank, 1929-31; cashier 1932-34; insurance and real estate business 1934-36; cashier J.J. Harris & Co Bank 1936-37; insurance, real estate, and loan business 1937 __, treasurer Montelores Chamber of Commerce,   member of Chamber of Commerce, past patron OES, member of National Association of Insurance Agents, SR, KT, Mason; address Dolores, Colo.

Page 54
• J. M. Brumley. County Judge, born Cleburne, Texas, Oct. 16, 1878; education, Springfield Normal School, married to Loise C. Pyle; second marriage Katie Miller, Aug. 19, 1919; six children; cowboy, Dolores Colo, 1900-13; clerk District Court 1913 __; County Judge 1920 __; address, Cortez, Colo.

As a kid, I often mowed Bill McCabe's lawn with his brand new Toro from Taylor Hardware. I heard a lot about Judge Brumley from Brumley neighbors, countless stories of old George Taylor, and Harry Pyle, and C.H. Webb at various accounts. I wandered the rooms of the Exon Merc, Akin Merc, and the J.J. Harris & Co Bank building (which of course was Taylor Hardware), Webb's garage, and even the places they might have gathered. I asked questions, but wish I'd thought of more.
"It is a volume which will command the attention of the learned person who has become familiar with the names of the individuals who, in the present-day, are responsible for the growth and gains made for, and in the state," writes Norman.
The book reaches way back through the years, clear to the back of the cabinet of experience, and memory, place and understanding, beyond the cobwebs and into the territory of my unasked questions.

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Photo information: The Cowboys of the Dolores River, William Henry Jackson, 1892.

The Seven Wonders of Dolores

Intend to remedy that by naming a new list

 By Rob Carrigan, robcarrigan1@gmail.com

The Seven Wonders of the World has historically been a listing of seven sites known to the Ancient Greeks as the most notable locales in their known world. 

The originals: The Colossus of Rhodes, The Great Pyramid of Giza, The Hanging Gardens of Babylon, The Lighthouse of Alexandria, The Mausoleum at Halicarnassus, The Statue of Zeus at Olympia, The Temple of Artemis at Ephesus. All fine attractions.

Over the years, and down through history, others have developed their own lists. The Seven Natural Wonders, developed by Cable News Network in 1990s, The Seven Modern Wonders, developed by the American Society of Civil Engineers, and even the "New" Seven Wonders. 

But like most secondary contrivances, the second string is just that. 

I intend to remedy that by naming a new list: The Seven Wonders of Dolores, and my selection criteria follows.

7. Rope elevator in the Exon Mercantile building. 

Never has an eighteenth-century marvel been so underrated as the the platform rope and pulley system near the back of the Exon Building that drops a 10-foot by 15-foot  section of the very floor out of one building and into the basement below.  Sure, maybe it is dangerous and maybe, Yes, you could fall down an poke your eye out, or perhaps run your fingers through the pulleys (or maybe even squash something like a bug if you dropped it while someone was below) but hours of entertainment offset all the dangers and then some.

6. Painted D on the side of the hill. 

Certainly a maintenance nightmare, once again rife with the dangers of actually falling from a sandstone cliff,  and less than environmentally sound, the faded black paint peeking from the tree-line stands as an icon of Doloresdom. Not to mention, the hours beneficially 'wasted,' instead of being in school attending to regular studies.

5. Second staircase in the Taylor Hardware's shop.

I know this is an obscure reference for many, but any that have known of, and witnessed the wondrous flight that drops out of the wooden ceiling to the cement shop floor below, and the pulley and weight system that allows it to do so, then be retracted if nothing occurred, are often awe-struck beyond belief.

4. Plywood raft in Town Pond

Utilitarian in nature, the raft bounced around the edges of the town pond for many years,  serving as a de facto fishing vessel, frogging operation, mud bog vehicle, and upon occasion search and rescue conveyance.

3. The retractable basketball supports on the stage in the High School Gym.

Two bolts removed, and retraction via cable and a hand winch, allowed the complete transformation of a stinking, hardwood-floor, basketball arena, and other athletic endeavors; to a stage and auditorium suitable for graduation, plays, and all school assemblies. No one knows the transformative powers better that the wood-ribbed edifice in the center of Dolores Schools.

2. Fourth Street Bridge.

A personal favorite, long-since removed, the cast iron structure, darkened with the rust of the ages, connected the outside world with the little town in the valley, as a ribbon of highway drops off the ridge and down into the mouth of a Lost Canyon. Fish lined up in the depths of the channels below, and hobos and delinquents camouflaged in the red willows and Cottonwoods nearby.  But as Neil Young noted "Rust never sleeps."

1. Big Rock between 7th and 8th Street.

Never in the course of human events in such a small town, have so many, owed so much to a single rock in the middle of the Dolores River. Entire languages have been developed and learned in the shadow of that stone. Working on mysteries without any clues, working and practicing... Perhaps my entire lyrical base (as well as Bob Segar's)  owes such a debt. "Like a rock, I was strong as I could be. Like a rock, nothin' ever got to me. Like a rock, I was something to see. Like a rock." 

I wonder — if there are other such wonders.

The last devil in Dolores

Practicing the craft the old fashioned way

By Rob Carrigan, robcarrigan1@gmail.com

Getting in a rut has been described as nothing but a grave with both ends kicked out.

But slowing down, taking a look around, remembering …

It is an inexpensive, entertaining, comforting and valuable exercise in my game.

Among my earliest memories, oddly enough, are times spent in a newspaper office. I say ‘odd’ because, I have, for the most part, spent pretty much of my entire life in one newspaper office or another. Given that experience, you would think something else, other than ‘the business,’ would stand out in my collective recollection.

But the ‘ink in veins’ description is real. And ‘the business’ has changed so much in the last 45 years, I can barely recognize the newspaper office of my misspent youth.

When I talk with most current practitioners of the craft, their eyes glaze over, and a blank stare appears when I start to discuss the world of burning-hot lead, pouring pigs, the clang and crunch of the linotype, of ‘turtles,’ chase, and quoins.

But that is the world of the first newspaper I came in contact with.

The first time I set foot in the Dolores Star, I might have been all of three years old. My next-door neighbors, Larry and Marilyn Pleasant owned “The Star” at that time and their son Andy, was a few months younger than I.

Andy and I played in the attic balcony office, somewhat out of danger of running our tiny fingers through the machinery in busy office below. The Star then, was in between John Lambert’s (the one-legged blacksmith) and Mary Akin’s little shop, but with growing job printing and the tendency for the Pleasants to collect stuff, things were pretty tightly crammed in there. A huge, white, clapboard cabinet contained a few toys in the overhead office but the real entertainment was below.

As the business grew, (and the amount of stuff collected), it became increasingly necessary to find a bigger home for Dolores Star.

The Exon Mercantile Building, built by old man Exon shortly after the town moved up from Big Bend in 1891, was just across what we called Main Street then, and on the corner.

It was a typical turn-of-century, brick building, with decorative cornice work and wood floors, an office up front that looked out on the sidewalk though large windows, and a massive open room with wooden shelves that ran up the walls all the way to the 12-foot pressed tin ceilings. There was another long room extending the length of the building on the side behind the office; and wooden locker-like storage rooms near the back of the open room. Behind them was my favorite ‘old building’ feature of all time — the rope and pulley-powered platform elevator to the basement. Out the back door on the downriver side, was another room that had been the old smoke house. A barn and assorted sheds filled out the property toward the back.

The move of “The Star” building to what formerly constituted Exon Mercantile was quite a deal, as I remember it. Linotype machines, and presses, and other heavy printing equipment rolled across the street on iron pipe, that was moved from the back of the machines, up to the front. Tons of iron inched forward across the street, pushed and pulled by straining men and a few women. Amazingly, I think moving the big stuff took less than a week. But for years afterward, additional items (some involving the newspaper or printing business, but much of it, local historic arcana) continued to collect in the sprawling buildings at the corner of Fourth and Main.

I remember everything from ore buckets to Victrolas; abandoned post offices, to entire antique telephone circuits; sheep crooks, mineral samples, old bottles, insulators, WWII scuba gear, old magazines, old-fashioned irons, eye glasses, dentistry tools … and the list went on. It was a virtual ‘valuable junk’ paradise spread out over nearly half a city block and interspersed with various-era, still-functioning, newspaper and printing equipment. I loved the place.

 Time spent there was a ‘living history’ project, as they still produced the paper on one of the last remaining hot type operations in the state. They still etched photo plates on wood blocks in the meat locker turned dark room. Several linotypes still clanked and clunked, and burning lead burrowed its way into the wooden floorboards. The world of chase and “turtle” and “hell box” and “pouring pigs” was still alive as it had been at the turn of the century. And I was the closest thing to a ‘printer’s devil’ as 1970 had ever seen.

Photo Information:
1. The flat-bed press at the Dolores Star with 'Shorty' Lobato feeding the maw and Marilyn Pleasant catching papers.
2. Marilyn cranking out copy, later to be set by linotype, as she practices the craft.
3. Even when printed, the paper still needed to get delivered, hopefully without incident. Marilyn and two of the youngest and last devils in Dolores, wait for resolution of a small Star crisis, at the time.
4.  Some of the living history of the place included at least one abandoned post office as Bill Bowden and Larry Pleasant demonstrate.

Photos courtesy of Tim Pleasant.

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