One of Boulder’s Civilian Conservation Corp units bunked by Chautauqua By Carol Taylor Like the rest of the country, Boulder suffered in the Great Depression. Thankfully, programs from President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s administration helped get people back on their feet. FDR established the Civilian Conservation Corp by executive order on April 5th of 1933, as part of his New Deal. The CCC pubic works programs helped ease the suffering of the Depression by putting able-bodied unmarried young men to work. The youngest (18-25 year olds) made $30 per month, while team leaders and assistants earned a little bit more. The majority of each worker’s paycheck was deducted and sent home to their needy families. read more...
Early Chautauquans loved the Switzerland TrailBy Carol Taylor
Legend says it was the spectacular scenery on a mountain train ride that helped clinch the Chautauqua for Boulder. Boulder had been competing with other Colorado towns for the privilege of establishing a restorative cultural retreat for Texas schoolteachers.
In February of 1898, Texas educators arrived in Boulder to survey proposed sites for a new Chautauqua. “The prize is too big to be allowed to slip away,” stated the Daily Camera editor Lucius Paddock. Community leaders feted the group, showed them around town and arranged a special treat – a ride in the mountains on the narrow gauge Colorado & Northwestern railroad. On the trip up to the town of Sunset, Chautauqua officials were amazed by the dramatic mountain splendor.
Henrietta Lives! by Carol Byerly
It looks like Henrietta is going to make it. The elderly Plymouth Rock chicken has survived raccoon attacks, coyote raids, the neighbor dogs, and the dramatic weather extremes of Colorado. Now she was the sole survivor of an electrical fire that killed the other seven chickens, ages four months to a year, in her coop.
Early Monday morning I was drawn to the backdoor by the lights of fire trucks from the rescue station just blocks from my house. Over the fence I saw that my neighbors’ chicken coop, a sturdy little house on stilts, was engulfed in flame. Oh no, I thought, those poor chickens. I knew my neighbors were out of town and saw the house sitter, Liz, standing stock still in the middle of the yard, still in her slippers, arms folded, watching as the firemen efficiently and thoroughly put out the fire with their hoses and picks and dragging out all of the flammable material required to raise chickens. Both curious (I admit) and wanting to support Liz, I went over to help and console. Liz told that when she ran to the flaming coop, when she opened the door, all of the chickens were on fire, but for one in a corner who somehow escaped the fireball and hopped or fell out of the coop. “Henrietta” I said, “she has survived all the other traumas here.” And on the ground behind the coop, amidst the four or five firemen in their full yellow and black rubber suits and hoses and big helmets, I saw a small, shuddering pile of feathers...
A “who-who-whodunit” in Lower Chautauqua By Bryan Wallace, Senior Scientist, Conservation Science Partners, Inc. A text buzzed my phone on a Friday night. “Hooty hoo,” read the caption underlining a dark photo. Although taken with a camera phone at night, the photo’s subject was unmistakable. Fifteen feet up, perched on an enormous apple tree, a Great Horned Owl stared back at the camera. She had that iconic owl shape, the “horns” (which are actually just feathers) erect atop her large, disc-like face, eyes shining like LED lights. The photo came from a buddy who lives in Lower Chautauqua. The apple tree stands in his yard, and is a magnet for Boulder wildlife. I’m a wildlife biologist, so this friend likes to send me updates about what cool critters he has seen parading through his yard, feasting on fallen and ripened fruit. A couple of months back, it was a big mama black bear and her two fat, yearling cubs. Around 8 o’clock the next morning, I got another text from the same friend. His wife had just found the owl dead, lying at the foot of the same tree, directly beneath her perch....
Why I Like This Neighborhood
By Jesse Weaver, 9
I’m the luckiest kid in the world. Why am I the luckiest kid in the world? Because I get to live in the
lower Chautauqua neighborhood. I think this neighborhood is AWESOME. The reason I think this
neighborhood is so AWESOME is because of everything I’m about to tell you.
25 year residents of the neighborhood recall how they landed in the LC
By Jon Hatch
Young Wes LeMasurier gripped the thick cable rails built into the granite stone
face, he looked down past the sheer edge of Half Dome with a rush of adrenaline,
and it was good.The air was cool on his sweat. The large, round-shaped rock in
Yosemite National Park exposed him to the wonderful elements of nature. The best
part of this adventure was that he didn’t embrace the adventure alone, but shared
the moment with his friend Heather, with whom he had a new relationship. They got
to the top, brewed some tea, then took a nap and after that they descended to the
valley floor. The hike up the side of the famed Half Dome would be just of one of
many adventures the couple would take together, for years to come.
Neighborhood lost Laurie Paddock, a friend to Boulder history
By Carol Taylor, for On The Corner
I first met Laurence “Laurie” Paddock while I was librarian at the Daily
Camera (1998-2007). I was fortunate to have occasional visits from Laurie,
the Editor Emeritus of the newspaper. Paddock was long retired from his
position as editor, but now and then he would turn up for meetings. To read more click here
The tall, sturdy dentist was hunched over in his rolling black chair and he precisely drilled on the soft part of a hard molar buried in the back of the patient’s mouth. The patient lay back horizontally in the exam chair with his mouth stretched open under a beam of light. Calm turned to displeasure as the drill bit pushed passed the novocaine and touched a nerve deep in the tooth. His forehead rippled and he wiped away the beads of sweat that glistened on his brow. Then through the noise of the piercing drill, the spraying of water and the gurgling of spit, the patient heard a woman’s soft voice beside him. He felt a gentle hand on the edge of his left shoulder. See all of 2015 issues click here
Jim Palmer stood backstage of the Glenn Miller Ballroom in the University Memorial Center at CU-Boulder amidst the commotion between programs at the Annual Conference on World Affairs (the Conference or CWA). As the director of the conference, he was busy organizing, chatting, greeting, introducing, debating and laughing with those who buzzed in and out of the room. In the mayhem a fellow walked up to him and said, "thank you for all of this!" And the man dropped a piece of paper into Jim's starchy shirt pocket...Read the full story and more in this issue of On the Corner by clicking here.
Trudging blindly through morning darkness, blowing snow and freezing temperatures, in the backcountry of Rocky Mountain National Park, Bruce Henderson breathed thick steam from his lips as he whispered to himself, "I am lost"...Read the full story of what happened to Bruce and many other articles in the full issue of On the Corner by clicking here.