There is no quicker route to memory lane than opening a box of childhood goodies. The pack rat gene runs rampant in my family so I have a plethora of trinkets from the 80s and 90s that are meant to symbolize, somehow, my childhood. After some reflection, I find this very true. No matter how bizarre the item, I can somehow relate it to my childhood. Hindsight certainly helps in navigating the strange box and assists in weeding through the useless and the priceless. Here are a few items that have survived the purges over the years and my first thought as to how they symbolize my childhood. Fair warning - this isn't all bunnies and rainbows.
1. A 3-inch tall gold trophy... sort of. In my box I have two parts of a trophy. The bottom part lists the team and the year. The top part is the gold baseball player from the shins up. He's posing to swing like the true slugger he originally was intended to be. I don't remember when my little trophy stop being a trophy. I remember it was glued for a long time, but that too eventually broke. Why keep a broken trophy? It was the only one that I ever got. It was a HUGE deal to me because my brothers seemed to have hundreds. It didn't matter what sport they played and which team they were on, they always managed to have a coach or group of parents that cared and spent the money on trophies. I wasn't so lucky. One trophy - that's all I got in all the years of playing sports. When I was a kid, I loved baseball. LOVED it! In my head and heart, I knew I could be the first woman player in Major League Baseball. I had dreams of playing for the Chicago Cubs. And I was good at it - so good. I could pitch very well. I threw a no-hitter once. And won $10 off my Dad when he hollered at me, "$10 if you hit a grand slam" as I walked to the plate with the bases loaded. I did hit that grand slam! I was good! But I was a girl, and when puberty hit my dad told me that I could no longer play with the boys. So, a broken trophy is fitting I suppose. Cut-off at the shins - unable to play.
2. A purple pinewood derby car and an orange bubble gum machine - The pinewood derby car probably gives this away as being from my days in the Boy Scouts. Yes, Boy Scouts. I had a slightly disturbing childhood growing up in the shadow of my two older brothers and these two items stand testament to that. What do you do with the third wheel? I was the tag-a-long kid. What my brothers did, I did, including making pinewood derby cars and bubble gum machines. I remember a house full of Boy Scouts and not really being allowed to participate with them. After the fact, I got to do the same project. I remember losing pathetically the day of the pinewood derby car races. Stupid purple car. I wanted to learn how to camp, make fire, pitch tents, ward off bears, but when it came time for that I couldn't participate - I was a girl. And even though I was in Girl Scouts - there was nothing scout like about them. Our patches were for sewing, baking, and other domestic duties. It's no wonder I willingly bailed on the green vested cookie enablers.
3. A Small 3 Ring Binder of Colorado History - By small, I mean small. About the size of a 5x7 photograph and about 3 inches deep, this binder holds my first sojourn into Colorado history. In 4th grade I was introduced to Zebulon Montgomery Pike, Bent's Fort, the Utes, and the columbine, blue spruce, and lark bunting. I had been looking forward to 4th grade because 2 years earlier I had watched my mom frantically put together two binders about Colorado history for my brothers. She did all the work, I'm not sure why, other than a mother's undying love for her slacker sons. She used neon paper and color cutouts - the 1980s version of scrapbooking without the fancy gadgets and computer printouts. The covers were about 11x14" pieces of wood (that my dad had made) and the books were laced shut with leather straps or something. THAT is the kind of Colorado history project I wanted. Instead I got some stupid recycled mini-binder donated from some local company. Our pages were dinky and we had to use the pages they gave us so the whole project was ugly and pathetic. I was utterly disappointed by 4th grade. And I have that crappy little binder to remind me of that! I should burn it.
More and more I'm realizing how disgruntled I am about having grown up with two older brothers whose shadow it often feels like I've yet to escape. I'm sure I'll find more goodies that are less depressing to think about. I hope.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
This myth is busted!
Who wouldn't want to find a lost treasure? I'm not sure anyone would leave it lie if they found one. I think this is why one Fort Collins legend has managed to grow to pathetic proportions. In the few months that I've worked for the local history archive I have discovered that when it rains it pours. There is some weird historical force behind what people look up and when. In the last couple weeks, the topic of choice has been the lost treasure of Coyote Pass in northern Colorado.
The story goes that in June 1872 a Conley line stage, loaded with $62,000 gold coins, left Denver for Fort Laramie. The stage was headed north to Fort Collins where it would stop and await additional troops to escort the stage and its heavy coffer. Upon arriving in Fort Collins, Colonel Critchell could not provide the additional troops to escort the stage. All of his troops were chasing Ute Indians west of the newly established town. Permission was granted for the stage to head north for Fort Laramie without its troop escort. Leaving Fort Collins, the stage followed the Overland Trail north and headed through "coyote pass" by Livermore near today's Highway 287. As the eight-mule stage reached neared the pass it was "bushwacked" by the Borrell gang.
Back in Ft. Collins, Colonel Critchell was having second thoughts about sending the stage ahead without protection and sent a small dispatch of men to catch up with the stage. They arrived in time to see the Borrell gang running off with "pokes" full of coins. The troops persued the robbers but all of the men got away. When word returned to Critchell that the stage had been robbed he ordered 40 men to scour the mountainsides until the gold was recovered. All members of the gang were caught and shot, but none of them revealed the location of the gold that they hid in the mountains in their hasty retreat from the soldiers on horseback.
Eleven years later, as the search for the gold continued, a "ruffian" gang from Loveland confronted a rancher in the lower Poudre Valley about the gold. When he denied knowing anything, they shot him. On his body, they found uncirculated gold coins of the Clark, Gruber, & Company mint - the exact coins that had been carried in the chest on that fateful day in 1872. The search of the gold continued, but with no luck. To this day, the gold coins have never been found and "coyote pass" continues to draw the attention of 21st century pirates in search of their treasure.
Now, for the fun part - multiple people have been wanting to do research on this hidden treasure. And each had a different strategy for finding it.
Patron #1 was looking for bodies. In the scuffle to steal the treasure two good guys were killed. The patron wanted to know where the men were burried so that she could then locate Coyote Pass and then, of course, the treasure. This path reached a dead end (pun intended) because the bodies were returned to Ft. Collins and not burried at the scene of the bushwacking.
Patron #2 wanted to look at an old map to find Coyote Pass. After talking to her, I discovered that she was neice of Patron #1. Apparently, treasurer hunting was a family thing. After doing research for #1, I was already skeptical, but I obliged, and pulled out the earliest trails map that we had. There was no Coyote Pass listed on the map. And as a lifelong resident of the area, nothing is known by that today. This frustrated Patron #2 so I began to dig even deeper for information. Enter Patron #3.
Patron #3, having become impatient while waiting for his wife (Patron #2), walked into the archive and started asking questions too. He was after the treasure. Period. It had to be out there and he was going to find it. While listening him to ramble the same story that I heard and read, I revealed to him more information that I had uncovered. The story of the Coyote Pass stage raiding was first published in Treasure magazine by a Loveland author in 1979. After being harrassed by treasure seekers for more information, the man admitted that he often wrote about "ficticious treasures." As I spoke these words, silence fell upon the room. The treasure seekers were not happy. They asked me to repeat what I had read. I did. Grudgingly they thanked me for my help and left, grumbling about what fool the author of the story was and how they had been taken.
The treasure story stayed with me a few more hours and then something dawned on me. The story said the men were headed to Fort Collins and would receive troop reinforcement before heading to Fort Laramie. Prior to finding my last tidbit of information about the original author of the story, I should have deduced that the story was false. Why? Well, two months ago I wouldn't have known this, but I do now. First, by 1866, the military post of Camp Collins had been disbanded and all soldiers were evacuated from the area. There were no troops here in 1872 that would have been ordered to protect any stage. Private security forces would have been used, not the U.S. Army. Second, a BLM search of geographic features in Colorado reveals that there is and never was an area named Coyote Pass in Colorado. And third, Fort Laramie is located east of I-25 and north of Cheyenne - not on the Overland Trail stage route. The town of Laramie was never considered Fort Laramie. This was an interesting play on words that first slipped by me. Kudos to the author for crafting such a sly tale with close but no cigar connections to days past.
It's a good feeling to get paid to hunt for treasure! And an interesting side note - in my digging I discovered that the Clark, Gruber & Company was an actual mint for coinage. It was located in Denver and its coins are very valuable today, which would explain why Patron #3 had his heart set on finding his lost treasure of gold coins and calling Cabo San Lucas home for the rest of his life.
One last side note - I think Coyote Pass sounds like a great movie title. And everyone loves a great treasure hunt. I'll try calling Johnny Depp tomorrow and see if he's busy.
The story goes that in June 1872 a Conley line stage, loaded with $62,000 gold coins, left Denver for Fort Laramie. The stage was headed north to Fort Collins where it would stop and await additional troops to escort the stage and its heavy coffer. Upon arriving in Fort Collins, Colonel Critchell could not provide the additional troops to escort the stage. All of his troops were chasing Ute Indians west of the newly established town. Permission was granted for the stage to head north for Fort Laramie without its troop escort. Leaving Fort Collins, the stage followed the Overland Trail north and headed through "coyote pass" by Livermore near today's Highway 287. As the eight-mule stage reached neared the pass it was "bushwacked" by the Borrell gang.
Back in Ft. Collins, Colonel Critchell was having second thoughts about sending the stage ahead without protection and sent a small dispatch of men to catch up with the stage. They arrived in time to see the Borrell gang running off with "pokes" full of coins. The troops persued the robbers but all of the men got away. When word returned to Critchell that the stage had been robbed he ordered 40 men to scour the mountainsides until the gold was recovered. All members of the gang were caught and shot, but none of them revealed the location of the gold that they hid in the mountains in their hasty retreat from the soldiers on horseback.
Eleven years later, as the search for the gold continued, a "ruffian" gang from Loveland confronted a rancher in the lower Poudre Valley about the gold. When he denied knowing anything, they shot him. On his body, they found uncirculated gold coins of the Clark, Gruber, & Company mint - the exact coins that had been carried in the chest on that fateful day in 1872. The search of the gold continued, but with no luck. To this day, the gold coins have never been found and "coyote pass" continues to draw the attention of 21st century pirates in search of their treasure.
Now, for the fun part - multiple people have been wanting to do research on this hidden treasure. And each had a different strategy for finding it.
Patron #1 was looking for bodies. In the scuffle to steal the treasure two good guys were killed. The patron wanted to know where the men were burried so that she could then locate Coyote Pass and then, of course, the treasure. This path reached a dead end (pun intended) because the bodies were returned to Ft. Collins and not burried at the scene of the bushwacking.
Patron #2 wanted to look at an old map to find Coyote Pass. After talking to her, I discovered that she was neice of Patron #1. Apparently, treasurer hunting was a family thing. After doing research for #1, I was already skeptical, but I obliged, and pulled out the earliest trails map that we had. There was no Coyote Pass listed on the map. And as a lifelong resident of the area, nothing is known by that today. This frustrated Patron #2 so I began to dig even deeper for information. Enter Patron #3.
Patron #3, having become impatient while waiting for his wife (Patron #2), walked into the archive and started asking questions too. He was after the treasure. Period. It had to be out there and he was going to find it. While listening him to ramble the same story that I heard and read, I revealed to him more information that I had uncovered. The story of the Coyote Pass stage raiding was first published in Treasure magazine by a Loveland author in 1979. After being harrassed by treasure seekers for more information, the man admitted that he often wrote about "ficticious treasures." As I spoke these words, silence fell upon the room. The treasure seekers were not happy. They asked me to repeat what I had read. I did. Grudgingly they thanked me for my help and left, grumbling about what fool the author of the story was and how they had been taken.
The treasure story stayed with me a few more hours and then something dawned on me. The story said the men were headed to Fort Collins and would receive troop reinforcement before heading to Fort Laramie. Prior to finding my last tidbit of information about the original author of the story, I should have deduced that the story was false. Why? Well, two months ago I wouldn't have known this, but I do now. First, by 1866, the military post of Camp Collins had been disbanded and all soldiers were evacuated from the area. There were no troops here in 1872 that would have been ordered to protect any stage. Private security forces would have been used, not the U.S. Army. Second, a BLM search of geographic features in Colorado reveals that there is and never was an area named Coyote Pass in Colorado. And third, Fort Laramie is located east of I-25 and north of Cheyenne - not on the Overland Trail stage route. The town of Laramie was never considered Fort Laramie. This was an interesting play on words that first slipped by me. Kudos to the author for crafting such a sly tale with close but no cigar connections to days past.
It's a good feeling to get paid to hunt for treasure! And an interesting side note - in my digging I discovered that the Clark, Gruber & Company was an actual mint for coinage. It was located in Denver and its coins are very valuable today, which would explain why Patron #3 had his heart set on finding his lost treasure of gold coins and calling Cabo San Lucas home for the rest of his life.
One last side note - I think Coyote Pass sounds like a great movie title. And everyone loves a great treasure hunt. I'll try calling Johnny Depp tomorrow and see if he's busy.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Pulling teeth.
In high school I had a friend, Lana, who was obsessed with teeth. She always told me to smile and always wanted to look at my teeth. She wanted everyone smile actually... and always wanted to look at their teeth. While I've never hated going to the dentist, I've never entirely enjoyed the experience. I love the feeling after it's over, but the actual visit part I could live without.
My life feels like a dentist visit lately, except that I'm the dentist and a lot of people in my life are the patient. It feels like I'm pulling teeth, making them doing something they don't want to do. It seems like I'm repeatedly asking for simple things, am constantly being told what I should be doing, and am left with no concrete feeling of direction.
I want a vacation. I want a long, romantic weekend that I don't have to plan. Why? Because I plan everything. And everything never seems to work out. Exhibit A - camping site #1. I want a job. A real job. I don't want to move. Ever. I love Ft. Collins. I love my family. Even if they are a pain in my ass for wanting to know answers to questions that I can't get answered myself. I want people to stop telling me that I need to bide my time. Screw that. I've bided my time for eight years. And doubly so for going on two years. I want tulips just because - not because I asked for them. I don't want to be measured against my brother. Period. He's the golden boy, I get it. I want a yard. And if it happens to be surrounded by a picket fence, so be it. I want to sleep-in on Saturday mornings and go out on Saturday nights. I want to go camping without it being a hassle. I don't want to go running by myself. I want my family to choose a day and time not based on the golden boy's schedule, but mine. And I don't want to feel guilty about it. I want to live life for today. Not the financial future. I know what regret is and I know what's most important. I want to make my grandparents proud. I want to travel, and not just up and down the same highways. I'm sick of junk. In my closet. In my kitchen. In my garage. In my head. And I want house insurance. And health insurance. Why? My tooth hurts. Seriously. At least whenever I can afford to go to the dentist, maybe it won't hurt as much. I'm kind of getting used to this pulling teeth nonsense.
My life feels like a dentist visit lately, except that I'm the dentist and a lot of people in my life are the patient. It feels like I'm pulling teeth, making them doing something they don't want to do. It seems like I'm repeatedly asking for simple things, am constantly being told what I should be doing, and am left with no concrete feeling of direction.
I want a vacation. I want a long, romantic weekend that I don't have to plan. Why? Because I plan everything. And everything never seems to work out. Exhibit A - camping site #1. I want a job. A real job. I don't want to move. Ever. I love Ft. Collins. I love my family. Even if they are a pain in my ass for wanting to know answers to questions that I can't get answered myself. I want people to stop telling me that I need to bide my time. Screw that. I've bided my time for eight years. And doubly so for going on two years. I want tulips just because - not because I asked for them. I don't want to be measured against my brother. Period. He's the golden boy, I get it. I want a yard. And if it happens to be surrounded by a picket fence, so be it. I want to sleep-in on Saturday mornings and go out on Saturday nights. I want to go camping without it being a hassle. I don't want to go running by myself. I want my family to choose a day and time not based on the golden boy's schedule, but mine. And I don't want to feel guilty about it. I want to live life for today. Not the financial future. I know what regret is and I know what's most important. I want to make my grandparents proud. I want to travel, and not just up and down the same highways. I'm sick of junk. In my closet. In my kitchen. In my garage. In my head. And I want house insurance. And health insurance. Why? My tooth hurts. Seriously. At least whenever I can afford to go to the dentist, maybe it won't hurt as much. I'm kind of getting used to this pulling teeth nonsense.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Open For Business!
I'm making big headway on my photography website. It has a fancy slideshow homepage and all of the shopping cart features are enabled!
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Who wouldn't want astro-nuts and moonarshino cheeries??
Fort Collins Coloradoan - July 1969 - Fort Collins Local History Archive I was doing some research for a little swing frame exhibit poster and found this advertisement on microfilm. The weeks leading up to the Apollo 11 launch in 1969 pushed the country into a deeper space craze, if that was possible. The Space Race had reached its peak and the final race to the moon had captured the world. I think the advertisement from Dairy Queen speaks volumes to that. I also found that businesses in Fort Collins were advertising that they would be closed on Monday July 20th in honor of the moon landing. President Nixon declared the day a national holiday. When is that ever going to happen again? What historical event would ever compare to landing on the moon? Landing on Mars? It's hard to say if that will happen in my lifetime, but I would sure like to have that same feeling that captured the world in the summer of '69.
Here's a great link to an article written by a Fort Collins resident about the launch in Florida.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
"You would never expect mimes."
Yesterday in the archive I was doing some research for a man in Iowa. He was interested in a couple on his family tree that he knew had lived in Fort Collins most of his life. After tracking down some obituaries and I few article clippings, I have to wonder what this man's face will look like when he opens the package with the copies that I made for him. The couple was your typical World War II era family - the mother and father had both served in the war, she as a SPAR and he in the Coast Guard. They had four children, one a baby girl that did not survive long enough to get a name, two boys, and a girl. They lost another son when he was 34 from a drowning accident in Florida. His profession - a mime! Didn't see that coming. I tracked down some newspaper articles that discussed the man's attempts to start a mime school in Fort Collins. He and a friend started a business called Mimes and Mayhem. After filling in my supervisor on my findings, she astutely commented "How do you suppose they answered the phone?"
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