Welcome to the Colorado Springs Pioneers Museum

West side of the building with entrance, July 2020.

Welcome to the Colorado Springs Pioneers Museum. Allow me to introduce to you one of my favorite home-grown institutions, where I have happily served as a volunteer docent for over five years.

Our local history museum is located in the former El Paso County courthouse. The building was commissioned in 1899 and completed in 1903, then served as the county courthouse until the early 1970s. It was clearly built to last, but very nearly fell victim to urban renewal during the 1960s and -70s. If it weren’t for a group of engaged (and enraged) citizens, this gem would have been reduced to rubble, like other iconic downtown Colorado Springs structures.

The museum relocated from its previous, far smaller quarters into these more spacious surroundings, and reopened its doors in 1979. The building not only houses myriad fascinating artifacts, but represents the most elaborate showpiece of the entire collection. Though few people today fail to be impressed by its commanding presence, it has not always enjoyed favorable sentiments. Rather, it was embroiled in a series of controversies from the start.

Southeast corner with surrounding Alamo Square Park, June 2017.

Similar angle in February 2018. What a difference 8 months can make!

Situated in the middle of Alamo Square Park, the site was originally known as South Park and was the counterpoint to North Park (present-day Acacia Park) several city blocks north. Against the wishes of many lawyers, who would have preferred their future work place nearer their elegant homes in what is now called The Old North End neighborhood, the more southern location was chosen. Local residents protested the felling of trees from South Park, which had been painstakingly planted and raised. And, to add fuel to the fire, the appointment of the architect, Augustus J. Smith, with his what some considered an inadequate résumé, ruffled feathers among the architectural establishment, who were aghast that an outsider would get credit for what promised to be a prestigious project. But no gnashing of teeth or maligning resulted in the reversal of the county commissioners’ choice, and Augustus immortalized himself by erecting the 9th incarnation of the El Paso County courthouse in the then-popular Italian Renaissance Revival style, modeled after imposing Renaissance residences in Italy.

Characterized by flat or low-pitched roofs, wide eaves, central cupolas, vertical and arched windows, the design of the courthouse also pays homage to Greek antiquity by incorporating, in order of increasing complexity, Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian columns. This classification is based on the elaborateness of the columns’ capitals (or crowns), not the shafts. While the building base is solid and square and adorned with sturdy Doric columns, the architecture becomes more detailed and elaborate before culminating in Corinthian columns in the seemingly central clock tower. Not unlike a wedding cake, to which it has been compared, its most eye-catching features adorn the top.

To honor its rootedness in the American West, the edifice incorporates Manitou Springs green sandstone in its foundation, and Platte Canyon granite and lava rock in its walls, materials all quarried in Colorado. The ornate if not slightly ostentatious enterprise came at a cost, but $420,000 seemed an appropriate price to pay for the then 30-year-old community of Colorado Springs. By the turn of the 20th century, not only did it enjoy a growing reputation as a health resort for sufferers of tuberculosis, it also benefitted from the river of gold flowing down the slopes of Pikes Peak, where the precious metal had been discovered in 1891.

View from the northwest corner with reflection in the adjacent building, July 2019.

In case you are surprised at the opulence you see before you, a recent article in our newspaper suggested that of all the historic courthouses in Colorado’s 64 counties, our local El Paso County example is by no means the most lavish or luxurious (though it might afford the most stupendous view).

April 2016. Westard view from the clock tower, showing the Front Range with Pikes Peak in the distance, and in the foreground, the 10th El Paso County courthouse, successor to its much more attractive antecedent.

If you enjoyed today’s tour, which highlighted some of the building’s history and exterior, I hope you will join me again one week hence, when I will give you a glimpse of the museum’s interior treasures.

Falco

DNA testing is revolutionizing our understanding of the relatedness between different species. Among the avifauna, one of the surprises has been the discovery that falcons are close relatives of parrots and share a common ancestry with songbirds. This is one of the reasons you will find falcons next to parrots in your printed bird guide (at least if it’s of recent vintage), instead of next to hawks, those other diurnal birds of prey whom they resemble most.

Falcons tend to be smaller than hawks, have more slender and pointed wings, and more rounded faces. They are swift predators that mostly capture their prey on the wing. Sadly, their diet consists mainly of other birds. They reach impressive velocities, with the Peregrine Falcon able to plummet out of the sky at speeds of up to 200 mph.

Of the nearly 40 global falcon species, and the 7 that occur in North America, I’m still hoping to make the acquaintance of a Crested Caracara, Gyrfalcon, and Aplomado Falcon in the wild (I have seen one of the latter as a captive bird). The 4 species I enjoy semi-regularly in Colorado are the American Kestrel, Merlin, Peregrine Falcon, and Prairie Falcon. I hope you will, too.

To enlarge a photo, click on it. To read its caption, hover the cursor over it.

My Turtle Self

In the lowermost layer of the pond I make my home. In the deepest, darkest, and dankest part of the pool I sleep through the cold season. By immuring myself against cold and hunger, my immovable body becomes part of the watery world, my immobile form invites vegetation to take hold, and aquatic animals live in the forest I carry on my back. Alone, yet not lonely, I lead my life, too old to propagate my seed and species.

From time to time I emerge from the murkiness to linger, to drink in the blue sky, the golden rays of sun, the fresh and fragrant air. These elements fill me with pleasure, but what lies beyond the perimeter of my circumscribed existence does not. Pollution, loss of habitat, hate and strife and war. I want no part of it.

I submerge myself once again, seeking oblivion. Ignorance is my bliss.

Spring Babies

Happening upon this “abandoned” fawn at a small rural cemetery, I wasn’t tempted to call the Division of Wildlife, but I was overcome with sufficient anxiety about its well-being to be able to relate to concerned citizens who do. Or worse, who pick up the baby deer and take it home, or to a rehab center. As we are repeatedly told, it’s the last course of action we should pursue, as does regularly leave their offspring alone for hours, before returning to them.

So I watched what appeared a merely days-old fawn take tentative steps, before it settled in the shade under a bench. It was still peacefully resting there when I left half an hour later, and I have since imagined its happy reunion with its mother many a time.

Most other encounters with spring babies were not tinged with worry but provided joyful glimpses of newborn life. Or even touches, as was the case with the bunny that had to be rescued from a window well—it was completely unscathed and ostensibly nonchalant and unimpressed.

These moments with furry and feathered new animals reminded me that I am a spring baby, too, my birthday being in April. And that I’m the daughter of a summer baby, who celebrates his birthday exactly 3 months after I celebrate mine. So today I send my gratitude, love, and warmest wishes for a happy birthday, dear Pa. I miss you and can’t wait to see you again.

To enlarge a photo, click on it. To read its caption, hover the cursor over it.

Zum Vergrößern, das Bild bitte anklicken. Um den Titel zu lesen, mit der Maus darüber schweben.

Als ich diesem „verlassenen“ Rehkitz auf einem kleinen ländlichen Friedhof begegnete, war ich nicht versucht, die Behörden anzurufen, aber ich machte mir genügend Sorgen, um nachzuvollziehen, warum einige besorgte Bürger das tun. Oder noch schlimmer, warum sie das Junge mit nach Hause nehmen, oder zu einem Wildgehege bringen. Aber wie uns immer wieder eingebleut wird, ist das das Letzte, was wir tun sollen, denn Rehe lassen ihren Nachwuchs regelmäßig stundenlang allein, nur um danach wieder zu ihnen zurückzukehren.

Also beobachtete ich, wie das nur wenige Tage junge Kitz einige zaghafte Schritte tat, bevor es sich unter einer Bank im Schatten niederließ. Dort ruhte es auch eine halbe Stunde später noch friedevoll, als ich den Ort verließ, und ich habe mir seitdem wiederholt seine freudevolle Wiedervereinigung mit seiner Mutter ausgemalt.

Die sonstigen Treffen mit Frühlingsbabys waren nicht mit Sorge behaftet, sondern ermöglichten frohe Einblicke in neugeborenes Leben. Oder sogar Berührungen, was der Fall mit diesem Kaninchen war, das aus einem Fensterschacht gerettet werden mußte. Es war unverletzt und schien völlig gelassen und unbeindruckt.

Diese Momente mit gefiederten und gefellten (ist zwar kein Wort, sollte aber eins sein) Tieren erinnerten mich daran, daß auch ich ein Frühlingsbaby bin, denn mein Geburtstag ist im April. Und ebenso, daß ich die Tochter eines Sommerbabys bin, das seinen Geburtstag genau 3 Monate nach meinem feiert. Aus diesem Grunde sende ich meine Dankbarkeit, Liebe und besten Wünsche für einen frohen Geburtstag, lieber Papa. Ich vermisse Dich und kann es nicht abwarten, Dich wiederzusehen.

More Mural Magic-Part 2

I will dedicate an occasional post to murals I have encountered during my forays in Colorado. Each will be introduced by the featured photo above, which also depicts a mural from a local coffee shop in Manitou Springs, our direct neighbor to the west, and which offers an interpretation of the Colorado State flag, shown here:

The two horizontal blue bars represent Colorado’s blue sky, the white bar its many snowcapped mountains. The red “C” stands for our state’s ruddy soil, and the central golden globe for our many days of sunshine, averaging more than 300/year.

In today’s post, I am showing paintings that highlight various facets of our state, ranging from the very practical to the very whimsical.

Colorado without horses is a thing unimaginable. Bingo’s Saddle Shop in Colorado Springs has sold saddles and other equipment for both Western and English riding styles since 1929.

The quintessential Western scene.

Poor Richard’s in downtown Colorado Springs started out as a used book store but has since expanded to include a pizzeria, wine bar, and delightful toy store.

This fisherman’s dream mural graces a wall in the little town of Buena Vista, about 70 miles west of Colorado Springs. I don’t think it adorns a fishing shop, but it should.

Not a fisherman’s dream, but a cow’s. 🙂 Seen on a wall in the little town of La Veta, about 110 miles south of Colorado Springs.

If you have missed my previous posts about murals, or would like to revisit them, please follow the links below:

Mural Magic

More Mural Magic-Part 1

In Harmony With Nature