Ghost in the Window

Ghost Hunters, Paranormal Investigators, Ghost Adventures, Ghost Mine, Haunted Collector...let's face it,  people have an obsession with ghosts and the paranormal.  Just go to You-Tube, everyone is trying to document the existance of shadow figures, orbs and other supernatural creeps.

Admittedly, I am one of those people who find them interesting.  Maybe it is because I have my own ghost stories.  Some have actually happened to me, and others are so implanted in my memory that they seem like I experienced them.

Ok, I have to admit, this image was found on the internet.  But it is so strangly similar to my experience that I had to use it.  Let's face it, most of us are not lucky enough to actually catch evidence.

Last summer, my family went on one of our regular hiking trips around Green Mountain Falls.  We decided to hike up to the Thomas Trail and head over to the waterfall.  One of my ALL time favorite places on the planet.  I insisted that we walk past a house that I have loved since my childhood.  The sign next to the address says, "1880" but I can't seem to find any information about it.  It is my dream house.  Giant wrap around porch, multiple floors, Victorian...it has it all.  I heard that it was a brothel when I was a kid.  I would LOVE to prove that one.

The white house on the hill (you can see it from the highway) is actually a summer home.  Remember what I said about summer homes in my last post?  :)  Well, we knew no one was home, so we decided to go peek in the windows.  It was dusty and sad, a home that hasn't had a proper visitor in a long time.  I walked around the porch, daydreaming about how I would decorate it.  A parlor must have a hand-carved, red velvet couch.......

When I came around the corner, my husband's face was white.  He asked if we had climbed the fire-escape stairs up to the attic.  I admitted that I was too afraid to do that.  Some of the courage from my youth has disappeared with time.  

He told me that he saw a boy in the attic window.  He was peeking through the drapes, curious about the activity happening outside.  My husband was worried that someone was actually home.  There was NO way someone had been in that house within the last year.  The layer of dust on the wood floor was an inch thick and the furniture was covered.

When I got home, I tried to dig up anything I could about the place.  I couldn't find any information on the internet, although there were a ton of ghost stories about creepy Victorian homes.

Ghost Town #1 Summitville

Our family took a snowmobile trip up to Summitville last weekend.  It was a long ride and a beautiful trip up a winding mountain pass.  The below-zero nights paired with days in the high 40's, created the most incredible, crystaline snow we have ever seen.  Trying to capture the snow crystals on camera was difficult, although we managed to get a few beauties. 

When we ride, we never know what will be around the next corner.  Three feet of fresh powder at one turn and then NO SNOW around the next.  You see, the conditions at 12,000 feet are interesting.  The intense sun can melt away snow, leaving the "shadow powder" deep and trecherous.  I can't imagine what it would have been like to make that journey on horseback in the 1870's.

Needless to say, we were all feeling a little discouraged as we gained altitude.  Where is this town?  Will there be any buildings left?  After a few stops, and a mission to reach one of the last ghost towns in Colorado,we rode on.

Finally, after 8 miles from the final turnoff, we made it.  It took my breath away.  Although the buildings were in an advanced state of decomposition, you could feel history teeming from this quiet mountain summit. We rode up to a group of buildings and I braved the snow-covered floor to get a closer look inside. 

I have always had a deep-seeded interest in history.   Buildings, junk, photographs,  it didn't matter.  As long as it was old, I was hooked.  I spent days as a small child climbing through abandoned houses.  I remember scrambling through a window when I was about 7 and finding old toys stuck between the floorboards of a stucco house.  I spent hours seaching through old dump sites on my grandparents property.  As a teenager, (admission of guilt here) I broke into cabins and summer homes around Green Mountain Falls...just because it seemed fun.  I lived next door to the original school building...who wouldn't want to look inside?? Besides the chalkboard, it was pretty boring.  The story of the school teacher quitting because the school house was on top of Foster Avenue is a funny one...but that is a story for another day. and I digress.

Well, after a little digging around on the internet, (thanks Wikepedia for this)  I discovered that Summetville was a pretty big deal in its day. Gold was discovered there in the 1870s.  Soon came 14 saloons and a newspaper.  There were about 600 or so people that lived there.  By 1883, the town was deserted and almost completely destroyed by a forest fire.  The mines were reopened on and off until around 1948 when copper was mined for WWII. 

 Here is the scary part.  Later,  gold was leached out of the mine using sodium cyonide.  A ceast and desist order was put into place in the 1990's.  The poison was leaching into the water supply. Apparently it still is.  We noticed many construction signs along the road. 

Let's hope the kids weren't eating any snow while we walking around.  Yikes!

The Legend Of Manitou Springs

http://history.oldcolo.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=126:legend-of-manitou-springs&catid=49&Itemid=92

Manitou "Springs"

While we are on the subject of the mineral springs of Manitou, I thought it would be fun for you to know another interesting fact.  First of all, manitou is "A name given by tribes of American Indians to a great spirit, whether good or evil, or to any object of worship" or  as mentioned by Longfellow in 1913, "Manito the mighty, The Great Spirit, the creator, Smiled upon his helpless children! "

Let's travel back in time.  We are now in the place soon to be named Manitou Springs, when the Ute people made a yearly trek down the mountain (Ute Pass) to visit the "Great Spirit".  It was believed that he lived underground.  His breath was the bubbling springs, and if you drank from his breath, the steam from the earth, you would be gifted with good health.  Keep in mind that this was way before Emma Crawford and all of the bath houses were built in town. 

"The source of these famous waters lays deep underground in a system of cavernous aquifers. As the ancient water erodes the surrounding limestone, carbonic acid is created which gives Manitou’s springs their special effervescence. This natural carbonation forces the water back to surface through cracks in the rocks, where it absorbs high concentrations of sodium bicarbonate (soda) and other healthy minerals."  "Manitou Springs homepage"

Early explorers actually found offerings of beads, knives, moccasins, wampum, pieces of red cloth and deerskin around the springs in hopes of good health, luck in hunting and battles fought with neighboring tribes. (Jan Pettit- History of Ute Pass).

As I child, I remember visiting the Navajo Chief Spring.  The gas coming from the bursting bubbles was powerful.  If you breathed it in, it would make you dizzy and light-headed.  I remember a child who died there, drowned when overcome by the vapors.  They eventually blocked if off to keep kids from hanging out and falling in.

Emma Crawford

Who hasn't heard of Emma Crawford?  She one of the thousands with tuberculosis who flocked to Manitou Springs in the hopes of being cured by the mineral rich water. Unfortunately, the disease got the best of her...but not for want of trying.  Emma was a spiritualist and enjoyed taking daily hikes up Red Mountain to connect with the Great Spirit.  It is said that she would leave a piece of her clothing tied to tree limb as an offering.  Emma had even asked to be buried at the top of her beloved mountain in the event of her death.

The mountain did not accept her request.  On December 4th, 1891 Emma died from TB.  She was only 19 years old. It took two days for Emma's casket to make it to the top of Red Mountain.  As the story goes, her casket came crashing down in a rainstorm.  As a child I was told that Emma's casket actually collided with the back door of a house, and her bones spilled out. Imagine the horror of hearing this story as an impressionable 10 year old!  To this day, you can see an erosion line that goes all the way down the face of the mountain.  It looks just like a track made for a coffin to take a plunge toward the sleepy town of Manitou Springs.

I do know that a railroad company relocated her coffin.  They didn't bury her deep enough and she washed down the mountain.  That part is true.  Now she is buried in a cemetery.

 I have "heard" that Emma's sister was also a spiritualist.  She tried to contact her sister in the spirit world from the famous red castle and mysteriously disappeared.  Perhaps they are both with their great spirit after all.

Every year, Manitou holds the Emma Crawford Coffin races in October. (Perfect for Halloween right?)  The town has a wake and even offers ghost tours of Emma's house.

Capital City?

Legend has it that Colorado City (The old left out) was once considered for the capital. Limited resources to get business done made it difficult to keep this location. Denver became the natural choice. I found this great description in an old, old book, (well actually the book was written in the 20's but the description came from The Colorado City Journal from the 1860's.)

"I shall never forget the aspect of a brilliant man and lawyer, George Crocker, when he walked up and laid down his blanket at the House of Representatives. He had been mining and possessed no other clothes than those he wore at his sluice box in the gulch. His dress was a blue flannel, trousers patched with buckskin, and old boot on one foot and a brogan on the other, an old slouch hat that he had slept in, the brim partly gone. His face was blackened by the smoke of the campfire and furrowed by perspiration, his eyes hollow with fatigue and hunger, feet blistered by walking, hair tangled and beard yellow with dust" This is the picture of a statesman of the new west in the genesis of our generation. Yep people. He was the speaker of the house. This is the building they met in.

My son says he sounds just like a guy that hangs out in the library, everyday.

Welcome to my Blog!

My husband and I are writing a book. We have said this before. Why will it work this time? Years of stirring around plot lines and talking about stories have finally paid off. We have a winner. The recipe? My love for history and his love of "story".

The best place to start is with what you know. We know Colorado Springs. We know Manitou. What we don't know are the stories that come with the place. Not the text book, politically incorrect version of "story". The stories that make up our folklore. The stories that make up our place names and personal histories.

This blog is intended to collect those stories. The intention is that you will read them and add what you know. I will learn something new and so will you. Sometimes the stories will be short. One sentence tells it all. Others will need more words.

I cannot tell you what the idea for the book is. You will have to wait for that one. I know it will be good. Trust me.

By the way, I am not the writer in this project. I am the idea generator, the inspiration and the collector of stories. Forgive my grammar and sentence structure. I only teach second grade.