Galleries by Katie Rudolph

Long before the days of American Idol, Denver boasted its own musical virtuoso, Dalies Frantz.

Frantz was born in 1908 in Lafayette, Colorado, the son of William Henry Frantz and Amalia Lueck Frantz (a performing soprano). Dalies grew up in Denver in a home at 760 Downing Street, where he began playing piano at age seven. Studying under teacher Blanche Dingley-Mathews, Frantz was considered a prodigy by age nine. At age 14, Frantz won first place in a statewide piano contest conducted by the Charles E. Wells Music Company. He then studied at the Huntington Preparatory School in Boston, where he became captain of the swimming team, breaking several New England freestyle swim records.

In 1926, Frantz won a scholarship with the Julliard Foundation in New York City and was taken under the wing of famous concert pianist and teacher Guy Maier at the University of Michigan. After Frantz received a bachelor of music degree in 1930, he traveled to Europe to study with legendary pianists Artur Schnabel and Vladimir Horowitz. Frantz returned to the US, debuting with the New York Philharmonic in 1932 and the Philadelphia Orchestra in 1934. Shortly thereafter, he was signed by Columbia Concerts Corporation and traveled nationwide giving recitals and making appearances with several major American orchestras. Frantz returned to the University of Michigan to continue his musical studies. He married Martha King of Detroit in 1934; five years later, they divorced.

Frantz's notoriety and good looks landed him a contract with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM), and he starred in three pictures: Sweethearts (1938), Balalaika (1939), and I Take This Woman (1940). He was scheduled to record the soundtrack of a biopic about  Frédéric Chopin (A Song to Remember), but the film was postponed by the onset of World War II. During the War, Frantz served briefly as an intelligence officer, but was discharged early due to medical issues.

Beginning in 1943, Frantz joined the faculty at the University of Texas Department of Music. In addition to teaching, Frantz played war-bond concerts and toured. Two months after playing Carnegie Hall in December 1945, Frantz collapsed and was hospitalized for nearly a year. Poor health would continue to plague him in the years thereafter.

Frantz continued to teach and write until his death in Austin, Texas, on December 1, 1965.

Dalies Frantz's scrapbook (WH305) of correspondence, photos, recital programs, and newspaper clippings is available for research in DPL's Western History/Geneaology Department. 

Nearly ten years have passed since the May Company department store was sold and its name changed to Macy’s. Back in 1877, the May Company began in Leadville, Colorado. By 1889, a headquarters was built in Denver.

DPL’s Western History/Genealogy Department holds a small collection of the May-D & F records (C MSS WH222). One intriguing item from the collection is a small, white box embossed in gold lettering with the words “Baby’s Box.” Written on the box’s cover is: “To Hilda, 1898.”

Inside are two well-preserved leather baby shoes and a note card that reads:

Please accept the accompanying pair of shoes with our best wishes for a long and happy life to baby and mother. When baby grows older and needs more shoes, we shall be pleased to furnish them.

Sincerely yours,

The May, Shoe Department, 16th and Lawrence Streets

While the May Company “Baby’s Box” was a kind gesture to Hilda (whomever she was—daughter of a May employee? VIP customer?), it was also a marketing message that declared May had wares for customers of all ages. This came at a time when children’s clothing was still primarily homemade—it would be another 20 years before a children’s apparel industry would develop in the United States.

While the Western History/Genealogy Department doesn’t have an extensive shoe collection, check out our other treasures at history.denverlibrary.org!

One hundred years ago this month, the Rocky Mountain News proclaimed that the June bride of 1914 “defies traditions in so many ways that old-fashioned persons gasp at her audacity!”

Where her defiance began? The bridal gown.

Wedding dresses had traditionally been satin or silk, with long sleeves, a high collar and train. The up-to-date bride was advised to choose a gown of sheerer, “more perishable” material, such as tulle or mousseline. The preferred silhouette had a “diaphanous” bodice and an open neck. In 1914 gowns, trains were understated or entirely absent. In regard to veils, the article sings the praises of the new, artfully-draped designs, saying:

They are infinitely more graceful and becoming than the styles of former years, which fitted the lace or tulle close about the face and hid every bit of hair. They brought into relief any imperfection of features and gave a singularly hard and set expression to all but the most piquant faces.

On flowers, traditional Lily of the Valley was no longer preferred. White orchids and natural orange blossoms were suggested for the bride’s bouquet.

The Rocky Mountain News also observed another trend. They noted that a bride’s defiance extended beyond the dress to the wedding ceremony, where “...many a bride applies the blue pencil to the wording so that the troublesome little word ‘obey’ is omitted.”

Interested in old-time wedding fashions and customs? Check out:

• Western History/Genealogy’s photos of wedding garb, dating as far back as the 1870s
• Wedding Traditions: Here Comes The Bride by Joanne Dubbs Ball
• The original edition of Emily Post’s 1922 Etiquette in Society, in Business, in Politics and at Home 

At 709 Clarkson Street sits a brick and stone Neo-Classical Revival mansion that once belonged to brewery magnate Adolph Zang (1856-1916).

Denver currently enjoys a reputation as ​a ​craft brewing hotspot, but beer has been part of its industry for many years. Adolph Zang’s father, Phillip, bought the Rocky Mountain Brewery around 1869. Adolph and his wife, Minnie, moved to Denver in 1882, when Adolph took over management of his father’s brewery. Adolph turned the Zang Brewery into one of the most successful breweries west of the Mississippi River. An English syndicate bought the business in 1889, but Adolph continued to manage it until his retirement in 1913.

The Adolph Zang Mansion was designed by architect Frederick Carl Eberley (1844-1915) and completed in 1903. Eberley was the architect of several early buildings in Denver​,​ including the Barth Hotel (17th and Blake) and much of the Tivoli Brewery complex (10th and Larimer).

Adolph Zang's​ 38-room home boasted a ladies’ sitting room with a pastel Parisian canvas ceiling, a third-floor ballroom with white birch floors, and a dining room illuminated by a gold leaf ceiling and Tiffany chandelier. Another highlight? Seven painted glass windows in the home were created by an artist named Brandt, who completed windows in New York City’s famed St. Patrick’s Cathedral. 

Curious about the history of more Denver homes? Perhaps even your own?

Check out DPL’s Building & Neighborhood History Collection in the Western History/Genealogy Department (5th Floor, Central Library) ​and​ online! This collection contains a wealth of resources for researching the history of Denver buildings, neighborhoods, and architectural styles. Included are early building permits, real estate and fire insurance atlases, and directories.

You may already know that the Denver Public Library’s Western History/Genealogy Department houses historic items—but did you know that some of its oldest objects date from before 3000 B.C.E?

Three original Babylonian clay tablets (417 B119) in the Douglas Collection of Fine Printing are representative of some of the earliest written records known. Prior to the 3000 B.C.E., Babylonians produced documents by scratching symbols into clay. These symbols were a precursor to cuneiform writing. Clay tablets like these were often administrative notes and lists.

Also in the collection is a reproduction of a “card catalog” tablet from Nippur, Iraq, that notes the titles of 62 Sumerian literary works. Titles were usually created from the first line of each work. The books listed were current in Babylonia from 2000 to 1500 B.C.E.

Interested in viewing these items for yourself? Click here to learn more about viewing items from DPL’s “closed stacks.”

The first issue of the Rocky Mountain News was published April 23, 1859—mere days after the paper’s founder, William Newton Byers (1831-1905), arrived in Denver.

Byers wrote most of the first issue’s stories while living in Nebraska. Articles included “Farming vs. Gold Digging,” “The World Without a Sabbath” and a “Map of the Gold Region, with Routes Thereto.” Printing equipment, which Byers purchased from a defunct Nebraska newspaper, was moved by oxen to Denver.

Preserved in the Denver Public Library’s Western History/Genealogy Department is the very first copy of the Rocky Mountain News. A press time certification reads: “…the first sheet ever printed in the Pike’s Peak Country at 10pm, April 22d, 1859.”

The final issue of the Rocky Mountain News appeared on newsstands February 27, 2009. The Western History/Genealogy Department holds a final certified copy of the issue and the printing plate from its first and last pages.

Did you know that DPL’s Western History/Genealogy Department has been designated the repository of the Rocky Mountain News archives? This collection is the Department’s largest and contains over 500 boxes of photographic prints, over 1,000 boxes of newspaper clippings, and 350,000 born-digital images. Learn more about this collection.

Did you know that DPL’s Central Library has a Western History/Genealogy Department on Level 5? It’s a full floor dedicated to helping you discover your family history and the history of your community.

For creative types, you’ll find historic, rare, beautiful, and sometimes bizarre art, books, photographs, papers, recordings, and more. Either visiting in person or on your computer, inspiration for your next masterpiece is practically guaranteed!

Writers: Creating a story that takes place somewhere in Denver's past? Check out DPL’s historic newspapers! Although DPL subscribes to several newspaper databases, sometimes scrolling through an old-time Denver newspaper on microfilm can be much more inspiring! Why? Browsing microfilm (instead of keyword searching in a database) gives you exposure to many more stories and advertisements—providing a fuller picture of the time period. You’ll get context, and you’ll probably stumble across quite a few interesting stories in the process.

Artists: Did you know that the Western History Department has a photography and fine art collection? You’ll find paintings by such greats as Albert Bierstadt and Frederic Remington on our walls. The Library also owns sculpture and literally thousands of unframed original artworks, etchings, engravings, lithograph illustrations, sketches, and posters dating from the mid-1800s to the present. Check out our digital collections where you’ll find over 1,000 works of art and over 100,000 photographs. Hit up the catalog, too: we have a vast collection of books on Western art, artists, and photographers

Musicians: The Western History/Genealogy Department’s Sheet Music Collection contains over 660 individual scores dating from the 1890s into the 1960s—and many titles are about Colorado and Denver. These scores include cowboy ballads, movie theme songs, rags, and traditional American Indian songs (among many other genres). An index to the collection appears here.

Foodies/Chefs: Looking for recipes from Denver’s Baur’s Candy Company? How about toast recipes from the 1920s? The Western History/Genealogy Department collects cookbooks and recipe collections from Denver and the American West! In the catalog, advance search “recipes,” narrowing down the location to “Western History and Genealogy.” You’ll see a selection of over 300 titles, from 2013’s Keep Cookin’, Cowgirl to 1914’s Bohemian San Francisco: Its Restaurants and Their Most Famous Recipes; The Elegant Art of Dining.

From 1907 to 1930, Edward Sheriff Curtis devoted his life to a project documenting the cultures of 80 North American Indian tribes living from the Great Plains to as far north as Alaska. The project yielded The North American Indian, a 20-volume photogravure-and-narrative set that the Library of Congress has called “one of the most significant and controversial representations of traditional American Indian culture ever produced.”

At the time of his death in 1952, however, Curtis no longer owned the copyright to the work he spent 23 years of his life creating.

Edward S. Curtis was born near Whitewater, Wisconsin, in 1868. When his parents moved to St. Paul, Minnesota, Curtis apprenticed with a photographer. In 1887, the family moved further west to Seattle. It was here that Curtis purchased a photography studio and captured the ships, shoreline, timber, mountains, and American Indians of the area with his camera. A chance encounter with George Bird Grinnel (then editor of Forest and Stream magazine) while Curtis was hiking with his 14x17 camera and glass plate negatives led to Curtis’s introduction by Grinnel into the Blackfeet and Piegan tribes.

The North American Indian was a project that not only consumed Curtis’s time, but also quite a bit of money. Although the publication of The North American Indian in limited editions from 1907-1930 yielded nearly a $1.5 million return, it did not cover the immense expenses Curtis had incurred to produce the project.

Curtis became friendly with President Theodore Roosevelt, who sponsored Curtis’s many gallery showings and lectures. President Roosevelt introduced Curtis to J. P. Morgan, Sr., who went on to bankroll Curtis’s work. The Denver Public Library’s Western History/Genealogy Department holds three letters that Curtis wrote to Mr. E. Francis Riggs in 1909 and 1910 (Edward Curtis Papers, M175). In a letter dated January 25, 1910, Curtis states:

I am certain you will be delighted to know that Mr. J. Pierpont Morgan is further assisting the Indian work by now furnishing $60,000.00 in addition to his former most generous subscription of $75,000.

Curtis sold the rights to The North American Indian to J. P. Morgan’s son in 1928. In 1935, the Morgan estate sold the rights and remaining unpublished material to the Charles E. Lauriat Company for $1,000 plus a percentage of royalties. Many of these materials sat untouched in a Lauriat basement until being rediscovered in 1972.

DPL’s Western History/Genealogy Department holds the Edward Curtis Papers (M175), The North American Indian (digitized images available here), and several books relating to Curtis’ work and turbulent personal life.

The Helen Rich Papers (WH348) detail the fascinating life of a woman who started out as a childhood friend of Sinclair Lewis and went on to become a newspaper reporter, traveling freelance writer, social worker, and bestselling authoress.

Helen Rich was born August 9, 1894, in Sauk Centre, Minnesota. She studied to become a teacher, but instead began reporting for a newspaper in Eau Claire, Wisconsin. Soon thereafter, she was incorrectly diagnosed with tuberculosis and moved to Colorado to regain her health. While there, Rich worked as the first female reporter for the Colorado Springs Telegraph.

Rich then traveled across the country as a freelance writer until making her way to France, where she lived until her money ran out. She then spent three years writing in New York City until finally heading west by car with a friend, living out of a tent, and writing articles for business magazines.

In 1937, Rich and retired teacher and author, Belle Turnbull (1882-1970), moved to Frisco, and a few years later, Breckenridge. Here, Rich worked as a social worker handling job placements and welfare payments for the Department of Public Welfare of Summit County. In 1947, Rich’s bestselling novel The Spring Begins was published, followed by The Willow Bender in 1950.

Rich retired from her social work position in 1959 and spent the following 10 years working on an novel based upon the Silverheels legend (dancehall girl nurses miners with smallpox until she catches it, loses her looks, and disappears). The novel was never published.

Rich died in Breckenridge on November 14, 1971.

Helen Rich’s correspondence, writings, and photographs make up the Helen Rich Papers (WH348), available for research in DPL’s Western History and Genealogy Department. Also available are the Belle Turnbull Papers (WH414).

Grace E. Ensey’s 1935 Denver Post obituary tells of her accomplishments as director of the Junior Red Cross (Mountain Division) and as a charter member of the Denver branch of the Society of the Colonial Dames of America. It also describes a project that Grace undertook late in life:

For the last three years, Miss Ensey devoted her leisure time to writing of her experiences in Denver and Colorado without expectation of publication, finding enjoyment in portraying the men and woman who have played notable parts in building the west.

These writings culminated in a 459-page unpublished manuscript (C MSS WH754), now preserved in DPL’s Western History and Genealogy Department.

Grace Ensey’s autobiography describes her early life, in which she and her mother, Chloe, moved to Columbus, Ohio, to escape Grace’s abusive and alcoholic father. In fear that her husband would kidnap her daughter, Chloe hid three-year-old Grace with an aunt and disguised her as a boy named “Sammie Jones.” Chloe was granted a divorce in 1864.

Chloe and Grace moved to Denver in 1880 and rented “Colonel Platt’s attractive furnished house” located next-door to “Mr. David Moffat’s residence on the corner of Fourteenth and Curtis Streets.”

Grace’s writings provide colorful descriptions of Denver during the 1880s. Her remarkable singing voice allowed her to perform on the stage of the Tabor Opera House. In her manuscript, Grace recalls how she also sang in Augusta Tabor’s home with a group of church musicians:

She [Augusta] thanked the pianist, and said, “Now, will you kindly play my favorite, ‘Yankee Doodle,’ with variations?” We musicians, who were on the programme, could hardly control our laughter, but to our credit we behaved most becomingly.”

Grace Ensey died on November 7, 1935, at St. Luke’s Hospital—a few days after undergoing a major operation. Her autobiography is available for research in DPL’s Western History and Genealogy Department.

Several months ago, I wrote about Mira C. Bostwick’s European travels during the 1920s as told through her diaries (part of the Harriet Scott Palmer Family Papers, WH1453). Another fascinating part of that same collection is a recipe notebook kept by Mira’s mother, Harriet Almira Scott Camp.

Who was Harriet? Using Ancestry Library Edition (available for FREE on all DPL computers), I was able to find out. Harriet was born April 7, 1835, and married Leroy Newton Camp (1828-1914) in Summit County, Ohio, in 1854. In 1855, she gave birth to son Edward Scott, who died at the age of eight months. Harriet had two more children: Frank (1858-?) and Mira (1867-1932). During the Civil War, Harriet’s husband Leroy enlisted in Ohio’s Company D in May 1864, but mustered out after three months. Around 1871, the Camp family moved from their farm in Tallmadge, Ohio, to Cleveland. Harriet died February 8, 1889, at the age of 53.

Harriet’s fragile notebook is thought to have been purchased around the time of her marriage. Written inside are nearly 100 recipes. Early entries in the notebook include recipes for puddings (rice, cottage, and corn starch), currant wine, and preserved eggs that keep “sound and good for two years.”

There are several recipes for baked goods such as pies (lemon, boiled cider, Boston cream, and chicken) and cakes with names like Jackson Sponge Cake, Cheap Cake, Railroad Cake, Pork Cake, Hickory Nut Cake, and Lincoln Cake. There are cookies, too—and given the number of recipes jotted down, Harriet may have had a fondness for ginger cookies in particular. There are oddities as well, such as a recipe for a baked dish called “Mountain Dew,” which consisted of “3 soda crackers rolled fine, 1 pint milk, yolks of 2 eggs with salt.”

Harriet’s notebook documents not only her cooking, but the many ways she managed the Camp home. There are instructions for “bleaching with chloride of lime,” creating a “fluid for cleansing gloves, feathers, velvet,” and dying cottons and woolens in shades of orange, blue, drab, and scarlet. Harriet also kept recipes for concoctions meant to treat illnesses like small pox and cholera.

Paging through the many recipes and remedies, it is apparent that Harriet—like many women of her time—acted as the family cook, maid, seamstress, and nurse. Was this a hard life? The melancholy passages that Harriet chose to transcribe in her notebook seem to indicate it was:

Don’t try to be happy. Happiness is a shy nymph, and if you chase her, you will never catch her; but just go on in the way of duty and she will come to you.  (Eliphalet Knott)

Harriet Scott Camp's recipe notebook is available for research in DPL's Western History and Genealogy Department.

In 1882, architect E. P. Brink described plans for a Denver hotel that would combine a traditional American hotel with “a system of palatial French flats.” On the site of a croquet field at 17th and Stout Streets, the hotel was built and opened as the Albany Hotel (named after hotelier W. H. Cox’s hometown of Albany, New York) in July 1885. Appealing to those reaping the benefits of a Colorado mining boom, the hotel was decorated in the style of the elegant 1880s with Persian velvet covering the floors and bronze peacock screens guarding the fireplaces.

The Albany Hotel would go on to host several major events, including the National Elks Convention in 1906 (in which a large bull elk was stabled in the hotel lobby) and the Democratic National Convention in 1908. Wild West Show stars Annie Oakley, Johnny Baker, and William F. “Buffalo Bill” Cody stayed at the establishment while playing Denver and hotel manager Frank Dutton soon befriended Cody. Personal mementos Cody gifted to Dutton were put on display in the hotel’s Buffalo Bill Bar.

In 1938, the New Albany Hotel reopened after a major design overhaul orchestrated by architect Burnham Hoyt and closed for good on August 27, 1976. Demolition of the hotel building began on November 17, 1976, to make way for Urban Center I, a 29-story office building with adjoining plaza.

Learn more about the Albany Hotel’s story by visiting DPL’s Western History and Genealogy Department online or in person. Explore the books, photographs, newspaper articles, and menus that bring this hotel back to life!

One collection found in DPL’s Western History and Genealogy Department has the dirt on Denver’s past.

Soil from the March 26, 1929, groundbreaking ceremonies for Denver’s City and County Building (completed in 1932) can be found in collection M1768. At the event, dirt was collected in a Hendrie & Bolthoff Manufacturing and Supply Co. envelope (now protected by an archival Mylar sleeve) and labeled as such:

The first dirt dug from City Municipal Building cite [sic] City & Co. of Denver by Mayor Stapleton, first steam shovel nosed in at 1:43 pm 3/26/29

On March 27, 1929, the Rocky Mountain News reported on the event, in which “Mayor Stapleton, all smiles, turned the first shovelful of dirt with a gilded spade” before a crowd of 1,000.

Photographs of the groundbreaking as well as the building’s entire construction process are available in the Denver Municipal Building Album, 1929 (C Photo Album 190), which has been digitized.

With newspaper accounts, photographs, and a bit of soil, one could say the construction of a beloved Denver building truly has been documented from the ground up.

Nearly forty-five years ago, on December 26, 1968, legendary British rock band Led Zeppelin opened for Vanilla Fudge at Denver’s Auditorium Arena.

Believe it or not, Denver was Led Zeppelin’s first stop on their first North American tour.

As the late Denver concert promoter Barry Fey (1938-2013) recalled in his 2011 autobiography, he nearly passed on Led Zeppelin. When Ron Terry (agent for Vanilla Fudge) approached Fey about adding Led Zeppelin as an opener to the already sold-out Vanilla Fudge show, Fey refused. It wasn’t until Vanilla Fudge offered $750 of their own money to pay for half of Led Zeppelin’s performance fee that Fey reconsidered.

Rocky Mountain News music critic Thomas MacCluskey reviewed the December 26 show and recounted the way Led Zeppelin played their set with a series of emphatic adverbs: “powerfully, gutsily, unifiedly, inventively, and swingingly.”

MacCluskey went on to describe the performance of each band member. While he was impressed by guitarist Jimmy Page and bassist John Paul Jones, MacCluskey had fewer kind words for singer Robert Plant and drummer John Bonham:

• Robert Plant: “a cut above average in style, but no special appeal in sound”
• Jimmy Page: “exceptionally fine…used a violin bow on the guitar strings in a couple of tunes…”
• John Paul Jones: “solid, involved, contributing”
• John Bonham: “a very effective group drummer, but uninventive, unsubtle, and unclimactic in an uneventful solo"

​Led Zeppelin returned to Denver less than two years later on March 25, 1970, and played to a crowd of 11,500 at the Coliseum. MacCluskey’s review of the band’s performance was more positive this time around, with the critic noting a marked improvement of Plant’s vocals and Bonham’s drumming.

Looking for more Denver rock n’ roll history? A great place to start is the Western History Subject Index—a large, digitized index of newspaper articles relating to the history of Denver, Colorado, and the American West. While this index provides newspaper article citations (meaning you won't be taken directly to the article of your choosing), full-text articles are available in several DPL newspaper databases or on microfilm in DPL’s Western History and Genealogy Department.

Hooray! You’ve found the book you need in the Denver Public Library catalog!

Reading the catalog record, you see that the book is located in the Western History and Genealogy Department (on the 5th floor of the Central Library). But wait— the book’s shelf location is noted as “closed stacks.” What does that mean?

“Closed stacks” are secure, employee-only storage areas. Items located in closed stacks can be “paged” (brought out by employees) when requested.

In the case of closed stack items in DPL’s Western History and Genealogy Department (also known as “WHG”), these materials can be requested at the information desk on the 5th Floor of the Central Library.

Once the items are requested and paged, you’re ready to check out, right?

Well, actually, no. Closed stack items cannot be checked out. These items are meant to be used in the Western History and Genealogy Department’s Mullen Manuscript Room. Before entering this special room, a friendly staff person will provide you with a free locker to secure your belongings, including any backpacks, purses, coats, bags, laptop cases, books, notebooks, pens, drinks, and food, as these items are prohibited in the room for the protection of historical materials.

Whoa, you say. Why all the rules?

Items in WHG’s closed stacks are often rare, one-of-a-kind, or fragile. It is the WHG’s mission to make sure historical materials are available for generations to come, so items are stored and handled with extra care.

As mentioned before, these items (and all items in the Western History and Genealogy Department, for that matter) are not available for check out. While it may be a bummer that you can’t take these materials home, this policy also ensures that these items are always ready and available for you when you visit WHG!

Ostrich feathers were used extensively in 19th-century fashion, as the ideal silhouette called for fullness in the upper body, neck, and head. Feathers were used to enlarge hats and bonnets and to create softness around the female face. Most ostrich feathers came from Africa and were exported to Europe and North America where they were sold at high prices and used primarily in millinery.

In 1907, New Yorkers Clarence O. Nichols, Richard O. Pennell, and Herbert J. Lyall created the Colorado Ostrich Farm Co. “for the purpose of carrying on the business of buying, breeding, raising, dealing in and selling ostriches and poultry of all sorts, and their eggs and feathers.”

They located the farm “partly in Denver and partly in Jefferson counties to the north of Edgewater.” The three men, who also owned ostrich farms in California and Mexico, claimed that there was a real need for an ostrich farm in Colorado. At the time, there were reported to be only 1,700 ostriches living in the United States (on farms in Arizona, California, Florida, and Arkansas) and a recent tariff hike on ostriches imported from Africa. Additionally, the men claimed that a farm in Denver would be ideally located, as it was only “only three days by mail from the hordes or [sic] millions of people in the Eastern States.”

Want to learn more? The Colorado Ostrich Farm Co. records (WH536) are available for research in DPL’s Western History and Genealogy department.

In 1909, the Watrous Bar and Café was called “the largest, finest and most completely equipped bar and café in the West” by the newspaper The Denver Republican.

Established in 1887 by Mart H. Watrous (1859-1918), the bar and café was located at 1525-1527 Curtis Street—today, the site of a parking lot. The place had a reputation for wines and liquors “of known purity and of highest grade” (unlike the cigarette-and-gun-powder whisky Kellen recently blogged about), and its 1906 menu featured 11 types of whisky and six varieties of beer. The Watrous’ large menu boasted fine foods such as oysters, lobsters, and chops, as well as mallard duck cooked to order, limburger cheese sandwiches, and imported frankfurters.

Of its polished hardwoods and mirrored walls, the Republican remarked, “Everything is suggestive of costly luxury.”  This luxury was meant to cater to customers of means—and more specifically, male customers. The establishment was described in 1909 as being “exclusively for gentleman.”

The Watrous Bar and Café, however, was home to some rather ungentlemanly behavior. On February 11, 1899, roadhouse owner Joseph “Rowdy Jo” Lowe was shot and killed at the Watrous Bar and Café.

Of the incident, it has been said that on the evening of February 11, Lowe drove into the city from his roadhouse and left his horses hitched without blankets in single-digit temperatures. The animals were taken to a stable by policemen while Lowe was reprimanded. Lowe made his way to the Watrous Bar and began loudly criticizing the police department, inciting an argument with Emmanuel A. Kimmel, a former police officer. George Watrous, a bartender at the time, later testified that he saw Kimmel draw a pistol and shoot Lowe several times in the kitchen of the restaurant. Lowe died an hour later. Despite Watrous’ testimony, Kimmel was acquitted. George Watrous’ scrapbook documenting the case and other high-profile Denver crimes is available for research in DPL’s Western History and Genealogy Department (C MSS –M822).

There were, of course, many pleasant things that occurred at the Watrous Bar and Café, too. Mart Watrous established a yearly custom that illustrated the appreciation he had for his employees:

On every New Year's day, the employees conduct the business of the house and are allowed to retain the entire gross receipts of the day, divided in proportion to their salaries and length of service within the year. Last New Year's day [1908] the receipts amounted to $912.25 [which would be the equivalent of around $23,000 in today’s money].

After the death of Mart Watrous in 1918, George Watrous became the president of the incorporated eatery. When George died in 1926, the Watrous Bar and Café ceased operations.

Photographs and a menu from the Watrous Bar and Café (Menu Collection, C MSS WH1509) are available for research at DPL’s Western History and Genealogy Department.

Ninety-five years ago, on November 11, 1918, Denver celebrated the signing of an agreement between Allied forces and Germany that ended World War I.

A very vivid description of the first Armistice Day celebration appears in the November 1918 issue of Municipal Facts, a monthly newsletter once published by the City and County of Denver (1909-1931) that reported on the previous month’s happenings (see the index to this digitized publication here).

The photographs and words used to describe November 11, 1918, certainly depict a joyous Denver—thankful that the war was over and simply happy to be out and about. A killer influenza pandemic had gripped the nation and Denver had placed restrictions on public gatherings to curb the spread of the illness.

The Municipal Facts article “The Day of World's Liberty as Observed in Denver” describes how the party broke out early on November 11, 1918:

The news reached Denver in the dead of night after the city had gone to sleep. Suddenly a great clamor broke forth; whistles blew, bells rang, and the harsh calls of newsboys brought citizens to bolt upright in bed with one word upon all lips—Peace! People poured from hotels and rooming houses downtown; automobiles, piled high with their shouting human freight, came honking from the residence districts into the business section, and a celebration had started that lasted with little intermission for forty-eight hours. Awakened by the tumult in the early morning hours, Mayor Mills proclaimed a public holiday and dav of thanksgiving.

At the time of the Municipal Facts article, there was already talk of designating November 11 as a federal holiday (it eventually became one—Armistice Day—in 1938). Suggestions for naming the day were plentiful: Liberty Day, Wilson Day, Victory Day. As the article notes, “Another proposal is that Thanksgiving Day, instead of being celebrated on the last Thursday in November, should be fixed permanently on November 11.” 

The first celebration of Armistice Day was “wonderful in that it was entirely impromptu.” By morning, many stores and businesses had dismissed their employees for the day. Crowds in the streets grew so large that they halted trolley traffic in the business district. Then, there was a spontaneous parade:

Touring cars, motor trucks, crowded with the cheering employees of the city's industrial houses; wagons, motorcycles, bicycles, everything on wheels paraded up and down Fourteenth, Fifteenth, Sixteenth, Seventeenth and Eighteenth streets. Speed rules were broken with impunity as motorists stepped on their accelerators to create a greater din with the strings of empty oil cans and tin buckets tied to the rear axles. Hour by hour the throng of pedestrians swelled, marching in the center of the streets and on either sidewalk, while automobiles whizzed wildly between the milling thousands. Yet with all this commotion and excitement and confusion only nine accidents were recorded on the police surgeon's book.

The crowds were composed of all types of Denverites:

…laborers in their overalls, bakery girls and dairy girls in white caps and aprons, stock-yards employees on horseback in cowboy regalia, shop girls, clerks, soldiers, who will never get to France; businessmen, occasionally one wearing a high silk hat to add to the merriment of the occasion; ragged urchins and little girls in costume, pretty girls wearing saucy paper hats and thrusting powdered pom-poms into everyone's face, fantastic figures in carnival attire, sober-clad Red Cross nurses, all united to give that touch of hilarity so typical of the celebration everywhere. As the crowd surged along it scattered into the air gay little clouds of confetti and colored streamers. It stamped and whistled, it tooted paper horns, it sang and it cheered.

Modes of celebration included casting ridicule on German Kaiser Wilhelm II:

[The crowd] laughed and vented its immeasurable scorn upon rag effigies, crowned with saucepan helmets, of that poor, deluded creature that dreamed he could crush liberty in the world…It was one of the favorite modes of diversion to treat with considerable nonsense these effigies of one, William Hohenzollern. He was burned at Sixteenth and Curtis streets, hung to the trolley poles, dragged at the tail-boards of motor chariots, kicked and buffeted, plastered with signs of derision, treated with a vast contempt.

In Denver, the party continued until after midnight on the morning of November 12, and Municipal Facts declared the day would “…go down in history as the first international day of rejoicing.”

To say that Denver sisters Florence E. “Flora” (1860-1932) and Blanche A. “Birdie” McCune (1869-1943) liked going to the theater is an understatement.

The sisters were such big theatergoers, they kept record books of the hundreds of productions they saw from 1881 to 1911. Over the course of 20 years, the women reviewed numerous shows, commenting on everything from music (On the opera Martha, 1908: “The ‘quartet’ alone was worth the price of admission” – Birdie) to costumes (On Woodland, 1905: “Mighty pretty, but Bird objected to the tights.” – Flora) to performances (On Edward Emery’s performance in Miss Hobbs, 1908: “Mr. Emery was disgusting.” – Birdie).

In their scrapbooks, Flora and Birdie made sure to record where and when they saw each production, with whom they attended it, and if there were any lead actors and actresses of note. Over the years, the sisters were entertained by stage legends such as Lillian Russell, Sarah Bernhardt, Peter Dailey, Helena Modjeska, Robert Edeson, and Henrietta Crosman.

How did these sisters afford to frequent the theater so often? Older sister Flora was a bookkeeper for Wolfe Londoner and later, a clerk in the County Treasurer’s office. Blanche was a clerk for the Denver and Rio Grande Railway. With both sisters working in the field of recordkeeping, it is perhaps no surprise they kept such meticulous logs of their theatergoing.

This collection of scrapbooks (Birdie B. A. McCune Scrapbooks, WH407)—available for research in the Western History and Genealogy Department— stands as an excellent record of Denver’s theatrical past and a reminder that amateur critics were alive and well long before the advent of IMDb and Yelp.

Last week, I wrote about Russell Hunter’s paranormal experiences while renting a Denver home near Cheesman Park in the late 1960s. These experiences became the basis for a 1980 Hollywood horror film called The Changeling.

This week, it’s time to fact-check this ghost story! Using genealogy and house history tools available on DPL computers and in the Western History and Genealogy Department, we were able to track down a few surprising tidbits.

1. Did Russell Hunter, writer of The Changeling, really live in the “haunted” house at 1739 East 13th Avenue for two years in the late 1960s?

We’ll have to take Hunter’s word that he actually rented the home.

Denver city directories and telephone books cannot confirm that Hunter lived in Denver at 1739 East 13th Avenue in the late 1960s. Hunter said in interviews that he moved to Colorado from New York City in the 1960s to help his parents manage the Three Birches Lodge in Boulder. According to Boulder city directories, Pearl E. and Russell H. Ellis managed the Three Birches Lodge in the 1960s. Despite their “Ellis” surname, these were in fact Russell Hunter’s parents. “Russell Hunter” was born “Russell Ellis” and presumably made a name change for his career in show business. This name change is substantiated in the 1930 U.S. Census and the Social Security Death Index (both available in Ancestry Library Edition - available for FREE on DPL computers!).

2. In the attic of the 13th Avenue home, Russell Hunter claimed to have discovered a trunk containing “a nine-year-old’s schoolbooks and journal from a century ago.” The journal detailed the life of a disabled boy who was kept in isolation on the third floor of the house by his parents. Later, Hunter said a séance revealed the spirit of a deceased boy lurking in the home. Did any children live in the house at 1739 East 13th Avenue at the turn of the 20th century?

At the turn of the century, a childless couple lived in the home at 1739 E. 13th Avenue.

The couple, Henry Treat Rogers, a prominent lawyer (1837-1922), and his wife Kate Rogers (1865-1931) filed a permit with the City of Denver in July 1892 to build a “brick dwelling” in the Wymans Addition of Denver. Architect Henry Ten Eyck Wendell designed the home.

Though the couple did not have children, they did have a niece and nephew who spent time living in their home.

The niece, Frances Clarke Ristine (1881-1934), came from Illinois to live with the Rogers when she was 10 years old and stayed until her marriage to George Ristine. After living in Chicago for several years, Frances and her husband returned to Denver after the death of her uncle, Henry Treat Rogers, in 1922, and lived in the 13th Avenue house with Kate (who formally adopted Frances as her daughter around 1927). Frances became the longtime secretary for Denver Orphans Home and the president of the Globeville Day Nursery while living in Denver. She inherited 1739 E. 13th Avenue and a small fortune after the death of Kate Rogers in 1931. Frances Clarke Ristine died in 1934.

The nephew, Henry Treat Rogers II (1892-1918), graduated from Yale in 1914 and came to work in his uncle’s law firm, Rogers, Ellis & Johnson, around 1916. This younger Henry Treat Rogers also lived in his uncle’s house on 13th Avenue, however, he enlisted in World War I in 1917 and never returned to the house. He died in 1918 at the age of 25.

There were conflicting reports about Henry Treat Rogers II’s death. While one obituary claimed that he died from physical exhaustion on August 18, 1918, in Cincinnati, another claimed he died in France “from the effects of nervous strain from the close application of his duties.” A memorial fund at Yale was established in his name by his uncle, Henry T. Rogers.

Despite what we've learned about the Rogers family, many other mysteries of the house at 1739 East 13th Avenue remain—and the answers may well dwell within the resources available at Denver Public Library!

The 1980 film The Changeling is based on the paranormal events Russell Hunter experienced while living in an old home near Cheesman Park in the late 1960s.

Hunter had worked as a musical arranger for CBS-TV in New York City, but moved to Colorado in the mid-1960s to help his parents manage the Three Birches Lodge in Boulder. In the late 1960s, Hunter began looking for an apartment in Denver where he could live and work on his music. He rented a home at 1739 East 13th Avenue (which has since been torn down).

Hunter claimed that beginning on February 9, 1969, he started experiencing strange phenomenon in the house. First there was the “unbelievable banging and crashing” that occurred every morning at 6 a.m. (and stopped as soon as Hunter’s feet would touch the floor). Then, faucets began to turn on by themselves and doors opened and closed on their own. Walls vibrated violently, tossing paintings to the floor.

Shortly thereafter, Hunter and an architect friend uncovered a hidden staircase in the back of a closet. The stairway led to the third floor of the home where Hunter found a child’s trunk containing “a nine-year-old’s schoolbooks and journal from a century ago.” The journal detailed the life of a disabled boy who was kept in isolation. The boy wrote about his favorite toy, a red rubber ball. A few nights after discovering the trunk, a red rubber ball dropped from the top of a spiral staircase in the home.

Hunter claimed that a séance revealed the story of a sickly child who was heir to a fortune from his maternal grandfather. When the child became gravely ill, his parents worried that the boy’s inheritance would pass to a different branch of the family. When their son died, the couple secretly buried him in a field in southeast Denver and adopted a boy from a local orphanage who perfectly resembled their deceased son. They trained him to take on the identity of the deceased boy (hence, the “changeling” film title) and the boy went on to become well-educated and successful.

Hunter declared that it was the deceased child who spoke through him at the séance, revealing directions to his burial place under a house on South Dahlia Street. Hunter stated that after gaining permission to dig under that home, human remains and a gold medallion inscribed with the deceased boy’s name were found in the grave. A few days later, Hunter stated that he began to experience more violent ghostly activity in his home. He said, “glass doors blew up in my face and severed an artery in my wrist. The inner walls over the head of my bed violently imploded.”

Hunter left the house and only returned to it again to watch its demolition make way for a high-rise apartment building. He remarked of the razing, “As the walls of the wing which had contained my bedroom collapsed, they suddenly flew outward and crushed to death the man operating the bulldozer.”

As Phil Goodstein points out in his 1996 book The Ghosts of Denver: Capitol Hill, the historical details in Hunter’s story don’t exactly check out.

What can historical records tell us about the house and people that inspired the The Changeling? Next Wednesday, we’ll consult resources readily available in the Western History & Genealogy Department to fact check this frightening ghost story!

[Want to hear more about Russell's recollection of his paranormal experiences? See "The Changeling: Denver's $8 Million Ghost" by Russell Hunter in Denver Magazine, v. 10, April 1980, p. 48 — available for research in DPL's Western History Department).

1. Archives go beyond books. An archives is a place where people go to find information. However, rather than gathering information from books as one would in a library, researchers in archives often gather firsthand facts, data, and evidence from letters, reports, notes, memos, photographs, audio and video recordings, and other primary sources. In order to preserve these unique resources, archival records are not available for check-out and are stored in acid-free folders within acid-free boxes in closed stacks with temperature and humidity control.

2. Archives contain more than just old stuff from prominent people. Archives come in all shapes and sizes and contain records that document a variety of organizations and individuals (prominent as well as unknown) from the past to the present (yes, the present!).

3. Archivists preserve archival records and make sure you can find what you need. Archivists (pronounced "AR-kiv-ists" by those in the know) are professionals who make sure archival records are preserved and made accessible to researchers. Archivists typically attain post-graduate degrees and specialized training/certification that prepares them for the task of assessing, collecting, organizing, preserving, maintaining control of, and providing access to archival collections. The bottom line: archivists strive to make sure researchers for generations to come can find what they need in the archives.

4. Denver Public Library has thousands of archival collections. Located on the fifth floor of Central Library in the Western History and Genealogy department, the Denver Public Library's Archives Collection comprises material on the American West, particularly Colorado and the Rocky Mountain Region; on the twentieth-century environmental conservation movement in the United States; and on the U.S. Army's 10th Mountain Division of World War II. In addition, the Blair-Caldwell African American Research Library archives provide important documents regarding the integral role and history of the African Americans in the Rocky Mountain West.

5. Finding aids are the GPS of archives. Finding aids are detailed guides to archival collections which provide more information (including biographical/historical notes and inventories) than normally contained within catalog records. Although all DPL Archives Collections are cataloged and a brief record is available through the Library catalog, only a portion of the Archives Collection has extensive online findings aids. See a listing of finding aids with electronic access here.

Sources: ”Say What? Talking Points on the Value of Archives,” Society of American Archivists, 2007. “What Is An Archives,” Society of American Archivists, 2007.

If you’ve seen Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris, you’ll recall how a vintage taxi transported main character Gil (Owen Wilson) back to 1920s Paris each evening.

Two travel diaries from the Harriet Scott Palmer Family Papers (WH1453) have nearly the same time travel powers.

Written by Mira M. Camp Bostwick (1867-1932), the diaries detail the adventures of Mira and her daughters Prudence (1897-1988) and Dorothea (nicknamed “Bit”) as they traveled throughout France, Great Britain, Belgium, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Greece, Turkey, Israel, Syria, and Romania, from July 1924 until July 1925. The family spent several months in Paris, studying art and the French language, and witnessed the 1924 Summer Olympics:

July 17, 1924 Thurs. We all went with Harrie and Miss Henderson to Musée des Arts décoratifs, in the end of Louvre. Saw furniture, chairs, etc. with wonderful rooms whose walls were entirely of wood decorated with wonderful hand carving. Saw swimming in Olympic games with Mr. Kelley, Natation,  Mercredi 16 Juillet ’24. Never ride in a taxi anywhere and have it wait for you if there is any other feasible to return!

Like most travelers, Mira, Prudence, and Bit experienced many "ups" (touring the British Empire Exhibition in Wembley, visiting excavations in Pompeii, watching Rudolph Valentino in Monsieur Beaucaire at the London Pavilion Theater ) and a few "downs" (eating an “unsatisfactory” breakfast of biscotti in Rome, swimming in frigid waters off Wales, suffering through days of rough seas in the Atlantic).

These diaries capture the incredible travels of the Bostwick family—women who had the means, education, and adventurous spirit to live a year of life abroad during the mid-1920s.

See the Harriet Scott Palmer Family Papers (WH1453) and many other fascinating manuscript collections in the Western History and Genealogy Department at the Central Library.

Pop quiz! How did kids let loose on the playground in 1910? Were there actually horse-drawn school wagons before buses? Just how big was a computer in a 1980 high school computer class?

Find out the answers to these questions and more by checking out a new display in Central Library’s Schlessman Hall (Level 1)! Back to School in the Archives provides a fun glimpse into bygone school days using historic photographs, papers, pamphlets, and textbooks from DPL’s Western History & Genealogy Department.

Focusing on life in Denver-area schools, this exhibit paints a picture of the curriculum and technologies experienced by students during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. While reading, writing, and arithmetic were staples of the education system, students also attended classes often absent in today’s course catalogs, including blacksmithing, sewing, typing, cooking, and carpentry.

On display through the end of September, Back to School in the Archives commemorates American Archives Month (October). If you’ve ever wondered what kinds of materials are in archives and how they are preserved, check out this link from the Society of American Archivists or stop into DPL’s Western History and Genealogy Department on the 5th floor of the Central Library.

Long before the era of King Soopers and Whole Foods, stagecoaches and ox-drawn wagons hauled produce to the Denver area. As a result, Denver’s earliest consumers endured high prices. A pineapple was rumored to sell for $7 and a single apple could cost $1.25!

As Denver’s population grew, more sellers and more goods rolled into town. By 1883, three curb markets on Fourteenth Street, Lawrence Street, and Welton Street were established by city ordinance. A permanent market (Barth Market) was set up at 23rd and California Street, but by 1899 it was moved to the west bank of Cherry Creek, north of West Colfax Avenue. Despite lacking railroad access, this was the center of Denver’s local produce trade for nearly 40 years.

By 1938, the City of Denver looked to relocate the Cherry Creek market to Jerome Park (West 8th Avenue and Osage Street), but their plan failed as the site’s location was deemed inaccessible to northern Colorado growers. Two other sites were favored by Denver’s business community due to their adjacency to railroad tracks. Although it was believed the growing city of Denver could only support one market, both sites became successful city markets.

The Denver Market & Produce Terminal, Inc. built the Wazee Market at a cost of $1 million on a historic Auraria site that extended between 9th and 13th Streets along Wazee Street. The Wazee Market had four large produce buildings containing 27 store units, four sheds that accommodated 248 growers’ stalls, and what was hailed as “the most modern banana handling plant in the country.” The market opened on Colorado Day, August 1, 1939, and was serviced by five railroad systems. After World War II, the market expanded to include the sale of refrigeration equipment, furniture, radios, shoes, and clothing. Shortly after the Denver Urban Renewal Authority purchased the five-block Wazee Market for $2.7 million in 1974, it was demolished.

The second market, Denargo Market, was built by the Growers’ Market Association on thirty acres of land at 29th Street and Broadway. The Denargo Market had access to the Union Pacific railway and boasted 504 growers’ stalls, an administration building, refrigeration plant, restaurant, and its own barber shop. It opened on May 20, 1939. On July 7, 1971, a four-alarm fire devastated the market. Today, the Denargo Market is the site of a major redevelopment project.

To learn more about the Denver’s Wazee and Denargo markets, check out the Western History and Genealogy department's Western History Subject Index, newspapers on microfilm, and digital photo collection.

Pell’s Oyster House was part of the Denver dining scene for 56 years. In 1881, George W. Pell moved to Denver from Brooklyn, New York, and opened his restaurant along Arapahoe Street, between 13th and 14th Street. Pell was no stranger to Denver—he had visited in 1870 while traveling with a circus, and again in 1879, when he operated a stage coach line with a final stop in the Queen City.

Denver—one thousand miles from the nearest ocean—may have seemed like an odd place for an oyster house, but during the oyster craze of the late 19th Century, “oyster saloons,” “oyster bars,” and “oyster and coffee saloons” popped up in cities and towns across the country. Denver had several of these establishments. The completion of the transcontinental rail line in 1869 certainly facilitated the popularity of the food, making it possible for oysters to be shipped more quickly than had been possible with horse-drawn transportation. Live oysters nourished with oatmeal or flour could withstand the long rail journey in water and ice-filled containers. Upon arrival, the shellfish were distributed to oyster houses that were often located in basements (in order to take advantage of naturally cooler temperatures).

Pell’s Oyster House spent the 1880s and 1890s moving from place to place along 16th Street before settling at 520 16th Street from the late 1890s until around 1921. An article appearing in the January 1, 1909, Denver Republican noted that the restaurant served oysters, fresh and saltwater fish, lobsters, crabs, and clams sourced from the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, northern lakes, and inland streams.

A well-known proprietor in Denver, George Pell was considered eccentric and independent. He closed his restaurant every summer (perhaps heeding the popular notion of the time that oysters should only be eaten in months with an “R” in them) and never adhered to strict hours of operation. Pell detested smoking and did not allow it in the café section of his restaurant. He is said to have thrown a wealthy customer out by his coat collar after the gentleman lit a post-meal cigar. Pell died at St. Luke’s Hospital from a bout of “nervousness” on December 24, 1911, at the age of 60. His granite headstone at Fairmount Cemetery is fashioned with carvings of fish.

Pell’s Oyster House continued to operate, managed by Pell’s wife and son, George, Jr. In the early 1920s, the restaurant moved to 1514 Welton Street, where it was enlarged to seat over 200 customers. In 1923, George, Jr. died of a stroke at the age of 36. Mrs. Mary Sharp Pell died in an automobile accident in 1926. Pell’s Oyster House continued to operate under Sbarbaro & Williams, Inc. until Jesse Washburn of the RKO Hotel took it over in 1933. Washburn closed the restaurant in October 1937, citing high overhead costs and a marked loss of profitability.

To learn more about restaurants that were once part of the Denver dining scene, check out the Western History and Genealogy department's newspapers on microfilm, city directories, digital photo collection, and menu collection (C MSS WH1509).

On May 12, 1970, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) chose Denver to be the host city of the XII Winter Olympic Games (1976). Denver edged out Sion, Switzerland; Tampere, Finland; and Vancouver, Canada.

Initial Colorado sites chosen for the Games included:

• University of Denver for Olympic Village and speed skating facility
• Loveland Basin and Mt. Sniktau for alpine events (changed to Vail in 1972)
• Denver Mountain Parks for Nordic, bobsled and luge events (changed to Steamboat Springs in 1972)
• Denver Coliseum for free skating and ice hockey events
• Currigan Exhibition Center for a press center

On November 7, 1972, Colorado voters, concerned about the financial burden and environmental impact of the Olympic Games on their state, rejected a $5 million bond issue that would fund the event. Shortly thereafter, Innsbruck, Austria, replaced Denver as the host of the 1976 Winter Olympic Games.

Although Denver never did bask in the glow of the Olympic torch, the plans set out by the Denver Olympic Committee from 1967 until 1972 remain in the archives of DPL’s Western History and Genealogy Department (WH1143, The Denver Organizing Committee for the 1976 Winter Olympics records) and are open for research. See them for yourself and discover the Denver that might have been!

In the archives of DPL’s Western History and Genealogy Department lives a Salem, Massachusetts court order to Sheriff George Corwin declaring Martha Currier a witch and condemning her to be hanged (C MSS -M1429). It is dated June 10, 1692.

But 1692 may actually be 1932.

In 2005, the American Antiquarian Society’s Common Place published an article by Steven Biel, now Executive Director of the Humanities Center at Harvard University. The article, titled “Brother, Can You Buy a Salem Witch Death Warrant?” describes a morning in October 1932, when Captain E. Newman Bradley, an antiques dealer down on his luck, knocked on the door of A. B. MacDonald, a feature writer for the Kansas City Star and collector of Americana. Bradley told MacDonald his sad story. Bradley was a World War I veteran whose antiques business had dried up during the Depression. He had traveled to Kansas City from Houston for the promise of a job—upon arrival, however, he found the position already filled. On top of that, he had just been informed of his wife’s death via telegram.

Bradley offered MacDonald an opportunity to purchase the death warrant of Elizabeth How (a woman found guilty of witchcraft and hanged in Salem, Massachusetts, in 1692) at the deeply discounted price of $20—thousands of dollars below its value. MacDonald bought the document and then tried to sell it to other collectors, including Howard Corning, secretary of the Essex Institute in Salem. Upon studying the How death warrant, Corning concluded it was a forgery.

How did Corning know the How death warrant wasn’t real? The ink on the document was modern and the staining on the paper appeared unnatural. Corning compared the How warrant to a facsimile of the well-known death warrant of Bridget Bishop and found the wording and handwriting different. In addition, the forged How warrant had curiously been signed by well-known Puritans of the time, while the Bishop warrant had been signed only by William Stoughton. In addition, the forged 1692 How document had been signed by Wampanoag Chief “King Philip” Metacomet, despite the fact that he had been killed in 1676.

As it turns out, “Captain Bradley” scammed not only MacDonald, but several collectors in Kansas, Wisconsin, Illinois, Oklahoma, and North Carolina. In November 1932, Corning began warning collectors of Bradley and the forgeries circulating throughout the South and Midwest.

The exact origin of WHG’s Martha Currier death warrant remains unknown as documentation of its acquisition is not available. Examining the document, however, several similarities to the forged How document are apparent. The handwriting and staining patterns match, and like the forged How warrant, the signatures of several Puritan “celebrities” including Cotton and Increase Mather are present. Then there is the date—just like the How death warrant, the Currier death warrant is dated June 10, 1692. Although Bridget Bishop had been executed on that day, there hadn't been any trials on June 10, 1692, as Professor Bryan F. Le Beau points out in “The Carey Document: On the Trail of a Salem Death Warrant” (Early America Review, Summer 1997).

With so many similarities to the forged How death warrant, it is believed that WHG’s Currier death warrant is likely to be the Depression-era work of “Captain E. Newman Bradley.”

[Note: “Martha Currier” is believed to be Martha Carrier, who was executed in Salem on August 19, 1692.]

A fun, new addition to DPL’s Western History and Genealogy Department is Toast and Its Various Uses, an informative recipe booklet published by the Denver Bread Company in 1924.

Toast is perhaps best known for its prominent role at the breakfast table, but this booklet endorses toast as the perfect main dish at any meal. Welsh Rarebit Toast and Creamed Chipped Beef on Toast are recommended for luncheon. For dinner, Toast Omelet and Toast Chowder are promised to delight diners. But what to make for dessert? Toasted Brown Betty (a baked pudding with spiced fruit and buttered bread crumbs) and Chocolate Toast Pudding, of course.

While this recipe booklet promoted the use of the Denver Bread Company’s products, it also acknowledged rather recent technological advancements in toastmaking. The first electric toaster was sold by Crompton & Co. in Great Britain in 1893. These early toasters lacked timers, outer casings, and the ability to toast both sides of a slice of bread simultaneously. In 1919, American Walter Strite remedied this situation when he filed a patent for an automatic, pop-up toaster. In 1921, Strite’s patent was approved, and in 1926 Toastmaster began selling domestic toasters in the United States. Shortly thereafter in 1928, U.S. bakeries began offering customers a toaster-friendly product: pre-sliced bread.

In 1916, the Denver Bread Company first appeared in Denver’s city directory as a bakery located at 39 South Pearl Street. The company moved to a more modern facility at 600 W. 12th Avenue by 1918. The Denver Bread Company prided itself on its cleanliness. Toast And Its Various Uses describes how the business sold its products:

The pleasant salesman brings to your door every day a basket containing a variety of bread, rolls, cookies, and cakes. You inspect his wares, choose those you want and never leave your door. You get bakery goods that are not handled by customers and clerks nor placed in contact with vegetables or other contaminating products.

By 1945, the Denver Bread Company was no longer. Toast and Its Various Uses, available for viewing in DPL’s Western History and Genealogy Department, serves as a reminder of a time when bakeries made deliveries, toast was a new convenience food, and the phrase “the greatest thing since sliced bread” wasn’t in the American lexicon.

Long before a “bookmark" was a shortcut to a spot in an eBook or a link to a favorite website, it was an actual object—a treasured placeholder to mark one’s progress in a paperback or hardcover book.

Should we someday forget just what these artifacts are, rest assured that DPL’s Western History and Genealogy Department houses the Ina Zager Bookmark Collection (WH1588), a set of bookmarks accumulated during the latter half of the 20th century. This collection features bookmarks made of paper, yarn, wood, leather, pewter, and even what appears to be a coconut shell.

The Ina Zager Bookmark Collection illustrates the many ways bookmarks have been used to promote products, places, and causes.

As one might imagine, many of the bookmarks endorse the virtues of reading, the services of the local public library, and the release of new books and movies. Some bookmarks are public service announcements, warning of the dangers of smoking cigarettes or playing near power lines. Others are simply souvenirs of vacations gone by.

Check out a sampling of the Ina Zager Bookmark Collection below or visit DPL’s Western History and Genealogy Department at the Central Library to see more!