[I still don’t live in Fort Collins anymore, but once in a while I get updates or hear things. We talked about the White Pine cab before here. Here’s an update, thanks to Susan!]
The White Pine Fire Lookout was moved this week. Originally in the mountains west of Fort Collins, the cabin has been stored in various locations around Fort Collins for the past 20 years–first at Lee Martinez Park and then near the Environmental Learning Center.
Susan Epstein, a fan of fire lookouts, tells me “It will be on the city’s Running Deer Natural Area, within sight of and on a walkway from the visitors’ center. They plan to stabilize it and eventually do some interpretation.”
Karen Manci, Senior Environmental Planner, says” we hope to have the White Pine Lookout cab available to the public in 2012. We need to stabilize the structure first , and we’d like to do some other work (staining, etc.) with the use of volunteers before we have it officially open to the public.”
Here are some photos of the move courtesy of the City of Fort Collins Natural Areas Program:
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Hi. Yeah. I know I’m not doing this anymore. But I found an interesting book dated 1926 “The American Poorfarm and its Inmates.” And there’s something here about Colorado and Larimere (sic) County.
Colorado has 7 poorfarms at which there are but 40 inmates…. In 1923 a Department of Charities and Corrections was created with power to investigate “the whole system of charities.” It’s first and only report showed deplorable conditions relative to dependents of all classes; there is congestion in insane and feeble-minded hospitals; the poorfarms are distressed to know what to do with inmates who disrupt the life of the place and keep other inmates nervous and unhappy.
Shortly after this report the governor closed the department on the ground of economy. The report contains one single sentence that is a volume within itself:
The Alumni of a State University can speak out about the needs of the University, but the alumni of a State Hospital for the insane or a county poorfarm, are not organized and cannot speak convincingly.
The author goes on to say inmates in Colorado are treated inhumanely and children are neglected. But don’t take that too personally, the thrust of the entire book is to villainize and put an end to poorfarms. No state gets off without a good condemnation of its county poorfarms.
On the other hand, it’s an interesting counterweight to many poorfarm histories, generally written by those running the home, which paint the places as warm, loving communities full of elderly who are grateful to their selfless and caring caretakers.
I’ve heard that Larimer County had several poorfarms over the years. The last was at the location of the current hospital on Lemay…which began as the infirmary for the poorfarm. In American Poorfarm, the author says specifically about Larimer’s institution:
Lighting unsatisfactory; twice quarantined–smallpox and scarlet fever; three cancer cases; bedbugs; one illegitimate child born to inmate; building made-over farmhouse; inflammable material; not fireproof; bedrooms stuffy; all rooms crowded; bathroom not easily accessible; no privacy for bathing; toilets fairly clean; outside privies 20 feet from house.
As for Weld County, he writes:
Quarantined several times; five cancer and tubercular cases; pest house [a building for isolating those with contagious diseases] on grounds; no recreation.
There’s a lot more to know about Larimer County and Colorado Poorfarms, but I’m not there to look it up anymore. Check out the archives at the Museum for more.
You know, Fort Collins didn’t just plop a cannon in the middle of the playground at City Park. It was the other way around. The playground was west of there, and migrated to the cannon.
In a way, it didn’t matter because kids in the 1950s climbed all over the cannon and considered it an extension of the playground, Norm says.
In another way, it mattered very much because over the years many residents thought it inappropriate to keep the artillery where the children play.
The story of how the cannon came to City Park, and how hawks and doves resolved their differences, is interesting. But it’s too long for me to tell now.
But that’s not the most interesting thing about the cannon to me anyway. I think the most interesting thing is the kids’ initials carved in the hard rubber wheels. Norm says he remembers kids carving those glyphs going back to when he was a kid in the 1940s.
When the National Trust for Historic Preservation announced earlier this week that Fort Collins had landed on its list of Distinctive Destinations, I had some regrets.
That’s because I always meant to write a series of posts about the group of women who made this town worthy of the National Trust. Women who I have always wished I could be more like. Women with vision, courage, and persistence.
This was no ladies social club for dressing up and having Victorian tea parties. They didn’t play status games based on whose pioneer ancestry made them most authentic.
Rather, these were women who fought like hell and struck fear in the heart of any politician that got in the way. At least that’s how I always imagined them.
Each Heroine deserves her own post, including a photo and a list of accomplishments. But that would take more research than I have time for now. So here’s the short list:
- Carol Tunner. She worked for the city’s preservation department for ages, fought the good fight, and sometimes won.
- Rheba Massey. She was the library’s local history archivist and her expertise served every historic organization in town. She helped me write my first local history (the history of my house) and showed me how to get involved in preservation in a way that could make a difference.
- Mary Humstone. I always associate Mary with Historic Fort Collins Development Corporation, a group that helped preserve Preston Farm. According to its Web site, they were also involved in the Linden Hotel, Hoffman House, Northern Hotel. She also worked for the National Trust and now teaches preservation in Wyoming.
- Rose Brinks. She preserved the Bingham Hill Cemetery and opened it to the public. She’s been generous with many of her historic resources. Stories about Rose are legend. Ask around.
Karen McWilliams probably belongs on this list too, but I never got to meet her. And an earlier group of women, like Charlene Tresner and June Bennett, might belong here too.
If only I had a little more time….
Nonetheless, without these awe-inspiring women living in our town, I think the National Trust would have looked right past Fort Collins. Without them, our town would be so much less than it is today.
The (recorded?) bells at Saint Joes I might miss more than anything in Fort Collins when I go. It seems like they play more in recent years than they used to. But there’s also a (real) carillon at the Episcopal church. I don’t know if they play that one.
I would have liked to find out more about them both.
And I might also have said something about the crazy number of traffic signs on the short block in front of St. Joes….