In 1972 I moved to Denver, Colorado. I felt it was time to make the move so I could grow into the person I am today. I needed to mature, gain self-confidence and further develop my independence. As a kid, my family spent several vacations in Denver. It was, after all, the home of Sheriff Scottie, Fred and Faye and Duffy’s soda pop. Denver had a great zoo (even better now), top drawer amusement parks and Bauer’s Cafeteria with the clean-plate treasure chest prize. And then there was shopping, lots of shopping! I always loved those vacations, loved Colorado. That’s why when I was deciding how the next part of my life was going to go, Denver seemed the perfect place to start.
To say I was naive about moving to a big city would be an understatement. I made $3.25/hour working at a bank in the bookkeeping department. I took home $156/two weeks. My rent was $95/month which left me $217/month for groceries, telephone bill (when we had to pay to call long distance), utilities, bus fare, gasoline, downtown parking (when I didn’t take the bus), laundry, work clothes and lunch during the work week. It was a stretch every single month but I made it, somehow.
Even though Denver had one of the highest incidents of rape in the country, I survived. I supported myself, got better jobs with only minimal salary increases. While the pay always remained small (I am a woman, after all), I learned new skills, met new people from different walks of life, backgrounds and ethnicities. I worked downtown for a couple of years and then spent the rest of my work years with companies in or around the Tech Center south of Denver. I went everywhere by myself or with friends in those days. To bars and restaurants, movie theaters and comedy clubs, shopping malls. To plays and concerts and night clubs. I wasn’t afraid although there were times when I should have been. My love for Denver kept me going, reinforced my resolve to stay in Colorado.
After twenty-odd moves over as many years, I settled in Aurora. We moved into a nice neighborhood, into a great house. The climate is nice, sometimes. When I came to Denver in 1972, the winters could be brutal. Heavy, deep snowfall one day that melted the next day. The winters now are just bitterly cold accompanied by minimal snow. The summers then were relatively mild-ish. I honestly don’t remember weeks and weeks of 90+ degree heat like we are experiencing now. Back then we had a fall season and a spring one but now, those seasons last a couple of days, at best. And they say global warming isn’t real, pshaw.
My neighborhood’s changed, too. Fortunately for us, our worst neighbor moved and a lovely family moved in. On our other side, we had a few different families but the family living there now is delightful. However, in time of COVID, we don’t see much of either and only from a distance. There really are hardly any families who were here when we moved in and the neighborhood seems to be starting over with young families again.
Denver has changed too. Legalizing marijuana has changed things. People are moving to Denver for legalized gambling and weed which has changed how life is. More people, more traffic and all that implies. It’s begotten what you’d think: crime, shootings, gangs. It’s clearly not the big city I moved to forty-eight years ago. Fred and Faye are long gone. Sheriff Scottie died recently which is a testament to his acting; he was much, much younger than we all thought. The amusement parks have moved and gotten bigger as has the zoo. There’s Major League Baseball, the NFL, hockey and soccer. Bigger, everything’s bigger. And faster, much faster.
There’s an episode of Andy Griffith that’s one of my favorites. It’s about a business man whose car breaks down on a Sunday outside Mayberry while on the way to an important business meeting. He hoofs it into town and runs into Andy, Aunt Bea, Barney and Opie after church. Andy drives him to the only service station/garage in town but the owner, Wally, is always unavailable on Sunday. However Gomer and Goober (Gomer’s cousin) say they’ll see if they can fix the man’s car without Wally’s help. While he’s waiting for his car to be fixed, Andy takes him home for Sunday supper with Aunt Bea, Barney and Opie. The guy can’t calm down because he’s so fixated on getting on to his meeting. After supper, Andy, Barney and the man go sit on the front porch to digest and relax. Andy and Barney quietly sing “Little Brown Church in the Vale” while the guy paces in frustration. Eventually you see the man begin to relax, remembering life in simpler times and he joins in the singing. The scene never fails to put a lump in my throat or bring a tear. Eventually, his car gets fixed but what’s important is his attitude is changed by the kindness of these people. He accepts an offer of overnight hospitality to rest up for his drive to the meeting the next day, preferring instead the peace of this small town. (And Opie gets to sleep on an ironing board balanced between two chairs—oh boy!)
We’d all like to live in simpler times. Worry less, be less afraid and filled with dread about our uncertain future. I know I long for a time when every day doesn’t feel like a struggle. When I moved to Denver there was crime, of course; murders, hold ups, assaults and shootings. While I wasn’t used to things like that happening daily, coming from a small town, most of those things didn’t happen near my apartment or where I worked so I didn’t dwelled on it. I wasn’t afraid. If I had been, I probably would have moved back home.
Today, I’m afraid a lot. Given a choice, I might opt to move back home but I know life there now isn’t any simpler than here. We’ve had a murder three blocks from our house at a medical marijuana dispensary that continues to be unsolved three years later. There have been three mass school shootings, a mass theater shooting, two miles from our house, where the youngest victim was six years old, several recent incidents of police shootings of unarmed black men and increased killings of law enforcement officers just doing their jobs. Increased traffic accidents – increased traffic. Everything is moving faster and faster, just at a time when I wish things could go more slowly. I don’t have the bravado (bravada?) I did when I moved to Colorado 48 years ago.
So what do I do now? How do I make time slow down? How do I make the world simpler? We’re all wearing masks and keeping our distance. We distrust those who used to be easy to trust and believe in. Being honorable doesn’t look like it used to. The only place I feel completely safe is at home. I live in a beautiful city, in a stunning state but don’t go anywhere or see anyone. I guess we all just have to Hang in There. We need to Keep Calm and Carry On. Work hard at being the solution, not continuing to be part of the problem. La La La La La La Live for today. Give peace a chance and pray for a brighter future. I mean, what else can we do?
Soosey’s Ruminations 