Niece Lori, grand niece Krisy, and great nephew Jack, and I explored my childhood haunts.
Lori was so kind to spend nearly the whole day yesterday taking me around to my old neighborhood and other places dear to me. Krisy and Jack were a great addition to my childhood journey. Would I ever have thought as a kid, my niece and my grand niece and my great nephew and I would explore my early life together?
We saw the house I was raised in, in the Barnum neighborhood of Denver and West High School where I spent three years, the golden dome of Denver’s beautiful Capitol building, where the dome is made of real gold.
My house and the house next door (below) that my dad built actually looked better than when I lived there. Lots of remodeling brought both houses into the modern age.
My childhood home.
The house next door where we used to play ball and have gardens. My dad moved a house onto the property and then added to it.
Ronnie Barkhausen’s house looked the same, and Doc Sinclair’s house looked like it was freshly painted. You all will just have to be patient to wait for the stories that will come out of my memory of Meade Street.
The church I went to. Seventh Avenue Congregational Church. Someone left my dog, Fluffy on the steps. Fluffy and I were inseparable.
West High looked the same, but the water pool in Sunken Gardens across the street from the high school was covered with grass.
West High School, I was in the class of ’55.
What used to be a viaduct from Barnum to Denver via Federal Blvd. was no longer there. We stopped at an 80 year old bar to see what may have happened to the viaduct and the manager said, “that viaduct has been gone of 30 years at least.” Stories about the viaduct will also be a story you must wait for.
“The dear, dead days are gone forever,” a line I had from a play I was in, “All My Sons”, just about says what was on my mind yesterday. However, scattered throughout the drive were familiar old brick buildings, and lots of retro signage on the long, long street of Colfax that begins in Golden (Coors Beer fame) and ends in Aurora. According to Playboy magazine from a Google search (thank you Lori), it was called, “the longest, wickedest street in America.” Also according to research, Colfax began back 100 years ago.
Well, whoever said you can’t go home again was only partially right. I felt I was home most of the day.