Aspen: An Unexpected Ride with Hunter S. Thompson

Theatre Aspen Lobby viewed from

John Denver Sanctuary

Through the centuries, the human race has been inclined to categorize and stratify itself: the rich and the poor, the conquerors and the natives, the inner circle and the oddballs.  The list could go on.  Unexpectedly, the impact of such labels came home to me in a number of ways during our recent visit with #1 Daughter (#1D) during her summer stint at Theatre Aspen.

Kinda deep for a vacation, right?  How could this theme develop when I was surrounded by John Denver's Rocky Mountains, or lapping up the last drips of a summer ice cream?

It began with a visit to the Wheeler-Stallard Museum.  Jerome B. Wheeler built this Queen Anne style Victorian in 1888 for his family.  Situated on an entire city block, the home was one of many stately properties in Aspen's West End neighborhood.  Despite his plans, his wife Harriet Macy Valentine Wheeler refused to leave their mansion in Manitou Springs, Colorado and the family never lived in the house.  Edgar and Mary Ella Stallard moved in during 1905, eventually purchasing the home in 1917.  The family lived here for 40 years.  The house last served as a residence of the Aspen Institute's president before the Aspen Historical Society purchased it in 1969.  The first floor of the Museum is interpreted as a Victorian Aspen home and the second floor gallery features rotating exhibitions to explore area history.

It is the second floor gallery - that's what got me.  As we entered the house, the docent on the front desk that day asked "Do you know about Hunter Thompson?"  Without thinking, I said "Yes".  How many Hunter Thompsons could there be?  It must be the same Hunter Thompson that penned our family motto (see previous post).

Hunter Thompson

Spousal Unit was not so quick to claim the man.  "Do you mean Hunter S. Thompson?" he asked.  She replied, "I mean the Hunter Thompson that ran for sheriff in Pitkin County - the exhibit upstairs is about his campaign."  Well, that threw me - perhaps I did not know as much about this man as I should have before I chose his quote as a guiding principle for the last 10 years.  It was time to get educated.

Under the label of "Freak Power", Hunter Thompson's 1970 campaign for sheriff started as a political stunt to upset local conservatives, but morphed into a viable bid.  He hoped to expand the role of the office to address social reforms.  Rampant real estate development, draconian law enforcement, harassment of hippies, downtown traffic congestion and protection for the local environment were all issues that he aspired to tackle.

A few things struck me: How little has changed, almost 50 years later - we are still grappling with many of the same problems, even if the labels (hippies minorities) may have changed.  How Thompson advocated for the disillusioned, disenfranchised and disinterested to rise up and use their power through voting.  How a word like 'freak' can evoke such emotion as to lose potential voters.  In the official count, Thompson lost the "Battle of Aspen" by a small margin.

For us, not all was lost - our entrance fee to the house also bought us admission to the Holden/Marolt Mining and Ranching Museum, just a 15-minute walk from the house  The area's mining boom started in the early 1880's and Aspen quickly became one of the largest producers of silver in the country.  

Originally sprawling over 22 acres, the Holden Works boasted state-of-the-art technology used to extract silver from low-grade ore.  The stoutly built 'sampling' building held large, heavy machinery that pulverized the ore; that building now houses the museum and is the only structure that remains of the original complex.  

In the fall of 1893, just 14 months after the new plant opened, the US Congress repealed the Sherman Silver Purchase Act and sent the Holden Works into bankruptcy.  The plant fell into disrepair as residents cannibalized the buildings for materials during Aspen's leaner years.  Mike Marolt bought the property for $1 in 1940.  The Marolts combined it with the Midland Ranch on which they raised sheep and cattle and planted potatoes.  By the late 1950s, the family started to sell off parcels.  The almighty dollar was stronger than any commitment to continue grazing sheep or raising cattle on this land.

Upper left: examples of the "Devil's Rope" - barbed wire;  Upper right: Oliver "Red River Special" Thresher

Lower left: barbed wire on the bottom is the most familiar style and is called Glidden's Winner

Lower right: Mining frame

That evening, we attended a performance of Ragtime at Theatre Aspen; #1D was the Rehearsal Production Assistant for the show, which deserved its standing ovation.  (We were delighted to be joined by my brother, his wife, their two sons and the girlfriend of one of the boys.)  Ragtime tells the story of three groups in the United States in the early 20th century: African Americans, represented by Coalhouse Walker, Jr., a Harlem musician; upper-class suburbanites, represented by Mother, the matriarch of a white upper-class family in New Rochelle, New York; and Eastern European immigrants, represented by Tateh, a Jewish immigrant from Latvia.  I found my mouth open during much of the performance; so many of its themes resonate with today's issues - the ongoing struggle for minorities, women and immigrants to be seen for their talents and not for any other characteristic.  After the show, we asked ourselves about the timing of the writing - imagine our surprise that it was based on the 1975 novel by E. L. Doctorow.  We have not come far.

OK, lest this whole post become a bummer, let me talk about redemption.  I observed several examples of 'open spaces' that have been generously preserved by the early Aspen families and the community.

We toured the John Denver Sanctuary, and discovered that it is aptly named.  An oasis in the city … a garden in which you can imagine that the issues of the day CAN be solved .. a place where all labels and divisions fade away …. He died too young, but his spirit and his words will continue to inspire those who grew up with his music, as well as those new to his legacy.

Strolling the aspen-lined streets of the town, I was like a bee to the honey with the bountiful flowers - in pots, on fences, in front yards.  Even the shops had gardens.  Something about growing things, and the desire of the human race to be surrounded by such beauty, helps to restore my faith in humanity.  (#1D, Spousal Unit and I were mesmerized by this hummingbird moth.)

We thoroughly enjoyed a performance of Godspell at Theatre Aspen (also attended by my brother and his wife); #1D served as Assistant Stage Manager for the production (thank you, my dear, for bringing back cherished memories of my time on light crew for our high school Godspell run).  The lyrics to Light of the World struck a chord with me (pun intended).

You are the light of the world
You are the light of the world
But if that light's under a bushel,
Brrr, it's lost something kind of crucial
You got to stay bright to the light of the world

You are the salt of the earth
You are the salt of the earth
But if that salt has lost its flavor
It ain't got much in its favor
You can't have that fault and be the salt of the earth!

So let your light so shine before men
Let your light so shine
So that they might know some kindness again
We all need help to feel fine (let's have some wine!)

You are the city of God
You are the city of God
But if that city's on a hill
It's kinda hard to hide it well
You've got to stay pretty in the city of God

So let your light so shine before men
Let your light so shine
So that they might know some kindness again
We all need help to feel fine (let's have some wine!)

You are the light of the world
You are the light of the world
But the tallest candlestick 
Ain't much good without a wick
You've got to live right to be the light of the world




On our last day, we hiked the popular route to the Maroon Bells.  Dozens of people completed the 3.8 mile trek out and back - tall, short, runners, walkers, seasoned folks, young'uns, those with boots and those in sandals.  Despite our differences, we had a common goal.  Isn't that what it should be about?  Everything should be about?

P.S. As I was getting ready to publish this morning, Spousal Unit read me this Barack Obama tweet - it says it all.

Linking to:

All Seasons


Floral Friday Foto


Mosaic Monday


Nature Notes

Our World Tuesday


Saturday's Critters

Sharon's Photo Souvenirs

Wandering Camera


Wednesday Around the World