Grand County History Stories

Article contributed by Abbott Fay

 

There were many games and leisure time activities enjoyed by the early settlers in Middle Park.  Among the most common adult games were gambling games such as crap-shooting.  Poker in almost all its forms was also very popular. Some saloon poker sessions would go on for entire weekends.  Parlor games often included Blind Mans Bluff, which has a history dating from ancient times.  Charades, dating from the 1770's was recorded in at least one pioneer diary.  Marbles and Jacks were common children's games. 

 

Some of the more athletic pursuits included swimming, which was very popular in the summer and during winter at the Hot Sulphur Springs.  Contests of croquet and horseshoes were played at almost all the resorts and dude ranches.  Several times, the Middle Park Fair Horseshoe Champion went on to compete at the Colorado State Fair, and in 1920, a local winner went on to the World Championships held in Minnesota.

 

All sorts of tag games were invented, including a version called "Fox and Geese" played in the snow fields of winter.  A variation which is rarely seen today was called "Statues".  In this game, "it" would whirl each player around and then release him or her.  However the released one landed, that position had to be held totally motionless (as a statue).  After all the players had been cast off into statues, "it" would pass among them looking for even the slightest motion, even to the blink of an eye.  As "it" caught a victim in movement, the victim then had to join "it" to pass among the statues, often taunting and teasing to elicit a movement, until only one statue remained.  The final statue became "it" for the next round.  

 

Rope jumping, hop scotch, sleigh riding, skiing and ski-jouring have all been mentioned in letters, diaries and newspaper accounts. Potluck picnics were frequent in the summers.  Ranch families would meet on Saturday nights in the school house for dancing.   At church celebrations there was almost always a cake-walk and donated box lunches were auctioned off.

 

In additional to fishing and hunting, rodeos gradually replaced informal races and other private ranch contests.  One of the first rodeos in the nation was held at Deer Trail in Colorado in 1869.  By the end of the century, almost every ranching area in the state had at least one rodeo a year. 

 

As for musical entertainment in those days before phonographs or radios, many people would perform at public and private gatherings.  Violinist, often self-taught, would play with other instrumentalists in what were called "hoe downs".  Mountain men often carried mouth harps for self-entertainment or impromptu performances for other trappers and Indians.  Accordianists were very popular at polka dances and the Jew harp was another common musical instrument.

 

On long lonely treks, some travelers would sing, not only for pleasure, but to scare away predatory animals.  Some ladies cultivated excellent singing voices and were often accompanied by piano music.  Pianos were more common in homes a century ago than they are today.  For households without a capable musician, there were player pianos, which made music from rolls of perforated paper to reproduce popular and classic tunes.

 

Story-telling was an art for some talented individuals, who were the highlight feature at many gatherings.  Some stories ended on a humorous note; other were mysterious or even scary.  Conversation was also considered a form of entertainment.  Women's sewing bees were welcomed for the gossip opportunities as well as the craftsmanship. 

 

Essentially, there was much more individual participation and carefully planned intermingling in those days than the more passive entertainment (TV, video games, movies, etc.) of today.   

 

Sources: Merlyn Simmonds Mohr, The New Games Treasury, Boston, 1997

Gertrude Hollingsworth, I Rember Fraser, Fraser, CO

Luela Pritchett, Maggie By My Side, Steamboat Springs, CO 1976

Candy Moulton, A Writers Guide to Everyday Life in the Wild West, Cincinnati, Ohio, 1999

Robert C. Black, Island In the Rockies, Boulder, CO 1969

After his discharge from the Union Army in 1865, a veteran who lost his right arm at the Battle of Shiloh, Tennessee as a commander of a field artillery battery, John Wesley Powell was appointed curator of the Illinois Natural History Society’s Museum located at Illinois State University-Normal. Later, he was a Professor of Natural Science at Illinois Wesleyan University-Bloomington. 

In the summer of 1867, Professor Powell and his wife Emma, brought five students of the two university’s and six educators at other Illinois schools to Colorado Territory. Two peaks over 14,000 feet were climbed. Pike’s Peak (Emma was the 4^thwoman to do so), and Mt. Lincoln. The expedition combined exploration and higher education of large scale student field trips was the first of its kind in American college history. 

In the autumn, the Powell’s visited the natural Middle Park hot springs (the heart of Hot Sulphur Springs) owned by William N. Byers editor of the Rocky Mountain News. The caretaker of the springs introduced himself as Jack Sumner, also a Union Army veteran, and Byers’ brother-in-law. Near the springs was the Grand River as the headwaters of the Colorado River were called. Around a campfire Powell and Sumner made plans for a Colorado River Exploring Expedition. Looming over this decision on the eastern horizon was Long’s Peak.  In November, Wes and Emma Powell departed for Illinois filled with fortitude to return to Colorado. 

John Wesley Powell sought financing for an 1868 expedition from the museum and university’s boards of education, being happy to oblige. However, his request to draw supplies from U.S. Army western warehouses took an Act of Congress to approve. The Smithsonian Institute donated scientific materials. The expeditions purpose was to stock the natural history museum with large collections of specimens representing different sciences and illustrating the resources of the country. Before leaving Illinois for Colorado, it was understood that the ascent of Long’s Peak would be attempted. 

At Chicago on June 29^th, a special Pullman car of the Chicago & Northwestern Railroad arrived with a banner lettered “Colorado Scientific Exploring Expedition”. At 3 p.m. Professor and Mrs. Powell, with 19 others were taken to Omaha, Nebraska traveling all night. In the morning they rode a Union Pacific train to Cheyenne, Wyoming. They were organized into messes of four and drew supplies from the army warehouse. Each man had to break his own bronco for the pack train ride to Denver. One man was bucked into a cactus. A Reverend was thrown with his foot hung in a stirrup. While being dragged he said, “take hold of her boy’s. Whoa!  Sweet little angel you.” They arrived and camped at Denver on July 14^th. Then proceeded to Empire where they were greeted by mountain man and guide Jack Sumner,  William Byers, and Ned Farrell.  

So much was untouched to be plucked in the names of anthropology to zoology. A week was spent on Berthoud Pass. One young scientist shot a jack rabbit thinking it an antelope. Jack Sumner was used to dudes. Finally, the expedition arrived at Mr. Byers’ resort where headquarters and the Reverend’s “Preaching Tent” was set up. Rest and relaxation were enjoyed by soaking in the hot springs. 

Professor Powell used his military rank Major. He never let the loss of his right arm hinder him. The Major took a trip to the Rabbit Ears and Gore Range where the highest peak is named Mt. Powell. When he returned the Major selected his student squad for the ascent of Long’s Peak. Chosen were L.W. Keplinger, and Sam Garman. One old mountaineer told the two that nothing could get them there that didn’t have wings. The idea of tenderfeet trying the ascent was ridiculous!

August 20^th-22^{nd -}The Major, his brother Walter Powell, Jack Sumner, William Byers, Ned Farrell, and the squad, departed headquarters mounted on horses, and one pack mule with 10 days rations. Each carried a pistol or rifle. The squad had weather equipment. They camped at Grand Lake. In the morning the party of seven rode up a steep rock ridge almost impassable by fallen timber. They corralled the equines at Mt. McHenry elevation 13,327 feet and camped for the night. At 7 a.m. the Major made bacon and biscuits. The men stuffed their pockets with a two day’s allotment. Leaving their firearms behind Sumner and Keplinger led the way to Wild Basin over tortuous terrain. All arrived exhausted at 2 p.m. except for Keplinger who volunteered to find a route to Long’s Peak. Keplinger went through the notch and was within 200 feet of the crown. Turning to enjoy the view he almost became an eternal resident of Estes Park. Nightfall was setting in and he had to return to Wild Basin. To his amazement Sumner was hollering and had lit beacon fires. At 10 p.m. Keplinger and Sumner were in camp. 

At 6 a.m. on August 23^rd, Keplinger led the way. Required of each was caution, coolness, and intense labor; life depending on the grasp of fingers in a crevice that would hardly admit them. Moving up in order were Keplinger, the Major, Sumner, Byers, and the others. Before 10 a.m. the entire party stood on Long’s Peak summit, elevation 14,255 feet. “Glory to God!” shouted the Major. For three hours they remained enjoying the spectacular views. North, south, east, and west. They counted 32 alpine lakes. An American flag was flown and left. A monument was built, and a baking soda can was used as a time capsule. Placed in the capsule were each member’s names, and the temperature. A biscuit was going into the capsule but the Major objected as he wanted fame as a mountain climber and not a biscuit maker. The capsule was sealed for the next climbers to find. Wine was sprinkled on the monument and disposed of in the usual manner. Two members abstained. 

The descent route went towards the branches of the St. Vrain River. Noticed on the snowbanks were two bears feasting on grasshoppers numbed by the cold. On the western branch of the St. Vrain the party was out of grub and they rested for the night. The men hiked to Mt. McHenry where a hearty breakfast was made. The two Powell’s, Sumner, Byers, and Farrell, returned to the springs on August 25^th. Keplinger and Garman remained to record high altitude weather. Submitting the first mountain climate observations to the Smithsonian Institute. 

The First Recorded Ascent of Long’s Peak (with a lengthy caption) was published in the Rocky Mountain News by William N. Byers on September 1, 1868. Proud of the fact, “that all were eminently successful and satisfied; the more so because the mountain had always before been pronounced inaccessible, and ours was the first party that had set foot on its summit.” 

   

 

The lights dimmed; mothers had already found their seats after coming from the classrooms where they had put makeup on little children’s faces and checked their costumes to make sure angel wings and halos were secure and costumes were on right side round.  I was at the piano, music and script lined out. The gym was full to the brim, every seat taken, with folks lining the sides and back walls, for the whole town had turned out.  Early birds got the seats!  Christmas wasn’t Christmas in the Fraser Valley unless it included the program at Fraser School (now the Town Hall).   I began the overture and chatter stopped.   I had played for this event for ages, starting in 1958.  High school students were gone by then, moved to the new Union High School in Granby, but 7th and 8th graders were still there.  And in 1958, the first kindergartens in the district were established.   It was a time of excitement and anticipation, of fun, and of panic? Well, no, not panic, for the teachers were beautifully organized. 

The program was chosen during October. Each teacher had a specific job. For instance, Martha Vernon, the art teacher, did sets.  Helen Hurtgen was responsible for dialog.  Edith Hill did costumes.  Nancy Bowlby was in charge of the music.  Others coordinated the whole.  And I played the piano, with Nancy sometimes accompanying me on her violin.  

Mothers were asked to contribute sheets and any fabric they could spare.  Patterns and material for costumes went home to be sewn into various sizes and shapes -- angels, gingerbread men, knights or royalty.  In the gym, we stitched on finishing touches, bright patches to decorate jester outfits, townspeople, and such, while watching various groups practice. Bits of tinsel became crowns, tinfoil turned into wands, cheesecloth into wings.  Lace scraps and sequins added color and “class.”   The budget was extremely minimal at first, but over the years, more money was directed to Christmas programs.  Instead of old sheets, we could buy cotton fabrics, velveteens, sometimes satin.  One year I even stopped by a furrier’s in Denver and begged some fur scraps.  Were we uptown then!  We had fur trim around the necks, cuffs, and hems of the costumes for the prince, queen, and king.  

The day before the play, PTA mothers gathered in the gym to fill brown paper sacks with an apple, orange, nuts, and candies, provided by R. L. Cogdell from his grocery store.  

Every single child in school took part in the play, as a class, except for those with speaking parts, of course.  Fraser grew and grew, then as now. Soon the 7th and 8th grades moved to Granby.  Then the 6th graders went, but the 4th and 5th graders handled the leads neatly.  Our stories were usually simple Christmas tales, but sometimes we tackled ambitious efforts such as the Nutcracker Suite or a version of Gilbert and Sullivan.   The only children not included were the Jehovah Witness youngsters.  They couldn’t be in the play and they couldn’t come watch it either.  We all felt very sorry for them, because everyone had such a wonderful time.  Their teachers tried to give them special projects to entertain and interest them while they sat off in a corner or in their classrooms.   The plays always went well.  Tiny kindergartners came out onto the stage, to stand behind the colored lights.  They knew their song perfectly in practices, but I have to admit that a number of them usually stood silent, stunned by that mass of faces looking up at them.  No matter.  They were darling. “Hi, Mom,” some were sure to call. “Mom” beamed.  

There might be a glitch or two every year. For instance, little Diane was chosen to do the Arabian dance in Nutcracker Suite.  Her parents were dark, as she was, and she was slender as a dancer. Trouble was, she didn’t have an ounce of grace in her body at that stage of her life.  I thought Nancy Bowlby was going to have grey hair before she got that child moving properly.  But the night of the program, Diane looked like Anitra herself, doing her exotic dance.   One year the king jumped his cue and entered on stage.  His first words were, “Did I miss anything?”  The prince muttered, in an aside, “Yes, three pages!”  But the cast went on as if nothing had happened, while down at the piano I sat, flipping pages rapidly, trying to figure out where the dialog was now.  

Another year, our son James was to take part in a minuet.  “Uck!  I have to touch a girl?”  By the greatest good fortune, he broke his leg and got to be a guard at the palace door, standing at attention on crutches, while another boy took his place.  (I think he did that on purpose.)   Songs and parts were adapted to the talents of the students.  We had five boys once, who couldn’t talk, dance, sing -- anything.  So they wore monks’ costumes and filed on stage, supposedly singing a Christmas carol, but supported strongly by the cast present.   Another time, Twyla’s parents couldn’t come, so Miss Vernon took her home to get ready. Now, Twyla usually looked like a dirty ragamuffin, but after a bath and hair wash, she truly looked like the angel she portrayed.   For the finale, the entire school came on stage to sing a last carol, with the audience joining in.  Then Santa showed up to distribute the goodie sacks, and the great night was over.  Coming out into the quiet night was a wonderful feeling.  Sometimes we moved through drifts of new falling snow; sometimes the sky was filled with icy stars.  Gay lights showed in windows throughout town. 

We never talked much on the way home, as we thought of the play, the success of everyone¹s efforts, and how happy the children had made their parents and families.   My last program was the first year after the new school was built.  It was fun still, but the school population had grown enough that it was impossible for whole classes to participate as one. Things weren’t the same as they were in the little old school.

"One Grand Essay" contest 2005 

It is a strange feeling one gets as you realize you are breathing your last breaths. You start to remember some of the wonderful and not so wonderful things that have happened in your life.  As I am lying on this cold ground in Phoenix, Arizona instead of my beloved land in Dexter Colorado, I start to think of my family. I miss my sweet and beautiful wife Anna whom I have had to live without for so long and realize suddenly that is has been 20 lonely years. We had an interesting life together: she and I and our 10 children.

I remember many years ago before I met Anna, when I was only 11 on the day of April 27, 1873. My family had decided to head out of Missouri with our covered wagon. It was pulled by mules and oxen and filled with all of our precious possessions, along with boxes of shot and black powder for muzzle-loading guns. Potatoes, flour, beans, coffee, salt pork, fish hooks, and of course my dog Ranger accompanied us. My father and mother, Walker Barron and Mary, my younger brothers John H., Walker Emery and my little sister Maud who was only 3 at the time were all ready as we started out early in the morning with my Uncle James Allen "Polk" and his family. We traveled until we met up with a train of about 100 other wagons heading west in search of a new home, and possibly some gold.

We had traversed across the country over the plains, streams and mountain ranges from Johnson Country Missouri to Denver, Colorado arriving on June 5^th where we made camp the first night near Sloan's Lake. Then we continued moving west until my father and uncle found work at a sawmill between Golden and Idaho Springs in the town of Beaverbrook.

With the completion of the Berthoud Pass stagecoach road in 1874, my father and some friends went over the Gore Range to explore Middle Park. Then two years later on July 9, 1876, our family moved to Middle Park just two weeks after General Custer's defeat on the Little Bighorn River in Montana.

My father decided to claim squatter's rights by building a one room cabin on the bank of the Grand River near Kremmling a mere two years before we had the Ute Indian scare. After the scare my mother wanted to move to Hot Sulphur Springs where there was and established school and more people. It was there that my father purchased the Springs Hotel renaming it the McQueary House. Shortly after some success with the hotel, my father purchased a home along the Willow Creek near Windy Gap.

I remember the day I had met my love, Anna Rebecca Kemmerer. She was so sweet that we married quickly on May 6 1884. In February of 1885 my first son Frederick was born followed by Clayton Henry two year later, and Harry Senator two years after that. However, Harry was not to be with us long and we lost him in August of 1892. Nevertheless, life goes on we were blessed with another son Ralph Grant who was born in August of 1892, followed by Myrtle Grace in 1894 and Chester William in 1896.

With our ever-increasing family, Anna and I purchased the 160-acre Frank Adam's homestead adjoining my father's home on Willow Creek where we would have room to grow and my children could enjoy the company of my parents. Just before Chester was born, I applied for a coveted appointment as postmaster and wanted to locate a post office on Gold Run, naming it the "Willows Post Office." On September 25, 1896, the US postal department did let us open a post but decided but renamed it Dexter instead. We had expected a mining boom along the Willow Creek and thought a town would be built around our post office and homes.

I remember when Ike Alden had found gold along the creek and sent it down to Georgetown to have it assayed. He found out that it was estimated to be worth about $1,700.00 to the ton, which is where the name Gold Run came from. But our peaceful valley did not prosper as we had hoped and the town was never built so we turned to ranching instead. We had four more children Gertrude Mildred, Robert Melvin, Mary Frances and lastly Ada Rebecca who was born in 1904.

During those years in my blacksmiths shop, I made wagons, repaired some of my neighbor's equipment and farm machinery. We had thought that a stagecoach line would bring the mail on a regular basis but it was really just a freight line. Anyone who wanted to could ride it and some of the passengers who used it were welcome to stay for a meal at the Dexter Ranch. There were two cabins across the road, which used for guest or tourists, mostly fisherman, but a place for anyone to sleep.

In 1905, the first train reached Granby and many of the ranchers of North Park would travel to the depot via Dexter and stay, purchase hay and join us for some meals. I was somewhat handy with carpentry and had built a large round table, which was a little unusual but very practical. I had fashioned it with pegs around a lazy Susan. I remember now at supper one time a guest of ours was helping himself to some food from a dish when someone asked him what the matter was. He was holding the dish in his hand and looked befuddled. He answered, "I forgot where I got this," We all laughed at his little dilemma. It makes me smile now thinking how wonderful the food was and how lovely my Anna looked when she laughed.

We built a schoolhouse made out of log in Dexter. Using our horses we created a log skid trail, dragging log after log until we had enough for a 16, or was it 18 by 20 foot building. Years later the children would still climb the skid trail with their skis and ski down during their recess.

Sometimes we would have dances at the schoolhouse and we would push all of the desks back against the wall and play old-time pieces. I liked to play my fiddle with a few of my other friends. Roy Curtis, and Andy Eairheart and sometimes my cousin Dick would call out square dances.

I also remember what a great time everyone would have as they danced when we played at the Grand County Winter Sports Carnival Grand Ball. Although the Carnival was held in Hot Sulphur Springs the last two days of December, we all headed over to participate and watch the skating, tobogganing and skiing. One year my son Robert who was a member of the Commercial Club went to Denver to represent us in the National Ski Association meet there and the following year he went to Steamboat.

As time went, on my daughter, Myrtle Grace met and married Charles Everhart and I had my first granddaughter Violet. I remember that as Violet became older she loved to play in my Blacksmith shop. I told her "If you play with my tools put them back where you got them". She was an obedient child and did as I asked so I never minded her coming in and playing with the bellows. She would get some scrap iron and place it in the fire until it was red-hot and then put it into the tempering barrel. She just loved to hear that sizzling sound. It makes me smile to think about that now as I start to shiver in this darkness and evening begins to approach.

I am struggling to stay awake hoping someone will help me get out of this place as memories of my other granddaughter Gertrude Jane come to my mind. She did not like the name Gertrude Jane because her mothers name was Gertrude Mildred, and everyone called her mother Gertie. She did not want to be called Gertie too; she preferred to be called by her middle name Jane instead. She would tell me what an interesting man I was and that she loved my blue eyes.

My little Jane is 17 years old already. But I guess I won't be celebrating her eighteenth birthday or the birthdays of any of other grandchildren now. I feel myself falling deeper and deeper into darkness and know that my Anna is waiting for me. I see a light now and my blue eyes are starting to tear.  As I walk towards the light I see my Anna is holding out her had for me to grasp. How wonderful my life has been and how I have enjoyed my journey. Now it is time for us to go home.