Life in Leadville Colorado 1950s

The other day I received an e-mail from some of my Colorado relatives. Jerry Pearson is a nephew of my grandmother Hagberg. His Mom and Dad died of acute alcoholism when Jerry was a teenage. Jerry would go on in life to work for the Colorado State Fish Hatcheries and marry the daughter of a prominent attorney in Leadville. Pat Trevathan was a beautiful young lady and continues to be a special part of Jerrry’s life.

In the e-mail I received mention was made of a grade school classmate named Doug Brown. I immediately contacted Pat and Jerry and asked if Doug had an e-mail address. He did and we have begun to correspond.

I went to school in Leadville with Doug Brown through the ninth grade. Doug was a tall good looking young man. His father ran a grocery store in town that had been started by his grandfather. Doug chose not to go into the grocery business and took up flying airplanes. It was great to make contact with one of the old gang.

The school that we attended in Leadville was a three story brick building. The floors were oil-soaked to keep the dust down. Looking back, I realize I went to school for seven years in a virtual fire trap. If the building had ever caught on fire most of us would not have gotten out. But we did get a good education and we had a good time going to school there.

In spite of what the grandchildren might believe we walked to school regardless of the weather. The concept of “snow days” was totally foreign. If we had observed “snow days” we would have gone to school all summer to make up for the school missed. When I left home in the morning with my lunchbox and a few books to take to the Carnegie Library, I walked out through a snowbank seven feet tall. My mother would not see me again until I came back through the snowbank that night. It was downhill to the school, but a long uphill trek to come home.

Often in the winter we would spend entire days out sledding. Every child had some sort of sled. The temperatures would hover around 0, but we never thought anything about it. It seemed that late in the evening as the sun was setting over the western mountains that someone would say, “I’m getting cold. I’m going home.” Everyone would grab their sleds, pulled by ropes and start for home. We didn’t have Nintendo or WII or even television. Life was lived outside in the elements and we loved every minute of it. But it was nice to go home to a nice warm house.

Sometime around 1955 the old schools were demolished and new schools, much safer, were erected. I remember coming back to Leadville in 1957 and coming to that corner where Ninth Street School stood. I was shocked to see nothing there but a playground. That building had been a major part of my life and now it was gone.

The class that I would have graduated with will have its fiftieth reunion in September. Unfortunately I will have just gotten home from my high school reunion for Central High in Grand Junction, Colorado.