Memories of 87 years by Bob

March 17, 2024

Rainbow Cottages II

It seems a lot happened during the time we owned the Cottages. We certainly had some interesting characters stay at our place. One that stands out was a fellow named Dallas. He came from California and, as it turned out, was supposed to be on patrol for manslaughter. It seems he shot some fellow in a phone booth. I'm not sure why but he doesn't seem the type to cross with. Of course I didn't know that so when he was late with rent, I asked him to leave and pay the balance. I think he owed about $100 or so. It turns out I caught up with him and threatened him with the police, he paid up. Later I found out his past and how lucky I was. He was nice to us and polite. Not long after that the local grocery was robbed and after that Dallas disappeared. Seems like a strange coincident!

One more character and I'll move on. Another fellow that stayed with us was a fellow named Tim. He had a good job when he moved in as an equipment operator. Not long after moving in he was fired (for drinking on the job). He always had paid us in cash so after he was fired we would check on him and he would always say, "just take what I owe you" from the cash. He drank a fair sized bottle of Vodka every day and enlisted our children to purchase orange juice as a mixer. We expected him to kill himself and would take turns checking to see if he was still alive. Eventually he ran out of money but it turns out he had a rather sizable silver dollar collection. So, we were paid in silver dollars after a period of time. He eventually ran out of money and a friend of his talked him into rehabilitation for 90 days. We felt sorry for him but grateful he was no longer our problem. He showed back up again and wanted us to let him stay but we just couldn't do so. I think I gave him $30 and sent him away.

I can't go with out mentioning a couple with a young child who stayed for a short time. He was a native American called Mountain. They had very little resources and he was looking for work. Again we felt sorry for them and tried to help as much as we could. I came home from the newspaper job one day and discovered the police had arrested him and hauled him off to jail. I went as soon as I could to the court house but he had already been taken to Denver. Now, here is the part that makes you wonder about our penal system. It turns out he was accused of stealing a refrigerator! He and his whole family were on foot and I doubt he carried a refrigerator from Denver to Steamboat Springs on his back, The irony is that no one arrested a violent criminal or a madman with a gun, but a native American on foot was fair game.

OK, enough of that. After we moved to Steamboat Springs I started involving myself with our church, Holy Name. The pastor I first met was a fellow named Fr Dave. Dave played golf and we played quite a bit. He was a very pleasant fellow and a good golfer. He only carried 4 or 5 clubs and shot better than bogey golf. I often joked with him and when he was transferred a group of us went together to buy him a full set of clubs. We lost touch so I don't know if the new clubs helped his score or not, but we told him he had to use all of them!

I taught myself to play the piano and guitar so decided I would join the choir at Holy Name. The lady who led the choir moved to Grand Junction so I assumed the task of Choir Director (a non paying job). Our daughter Renee sang with us for a while and she and I sang and played funerals and weddings. Another member, Mitzi, wife of a former Denver Bronco, sang as well and she and I had a great church relationship. Another member, Tom, went on to join the priesthood (Dominicans). He and I had an adventure before he joined. The Dominicans disavow earthly treasures so I told him I would help him divest some of his earthly goods. I owned at that time a Ford Maverick (not Ford's finest), so we drove to California, stayed at Pebble Beach Inn and played Pebble Beach golf course. I don't know what we each scored, but I was very pleased to be with him. I drove him to Denver to the Dominican house and lost touch for some time.

After Father Dave left, we had new priest, Fr Frank. He was a very pleasant man from Poland and was convinced everybody loved him (which most did). Ellen helped clean the rectory and was also very fond of Fr Frank. One evening he and I were supposed to have a meeting and he was a no show, which was very unusual. So, Ellen and I and another church member went to the rectory. Ellen and Sandy found Fr Frank dead in his bed. He was only in his 50s and it reminded me of my father's death at age 57. He was a good friend and is missed. I still remember that he loved to cook and ski. I never skied with him but I ate his cooking often We should always cherish our friends and don't take life for granted. We loved him.

After Fr Frank we had a couple of temps at the church but then came Fr Tom Dentici. He was a very pleasant fellow as well and we got along well. It seems I was playing music at more funerals than weddings and got a little burned out. Fr Tom's dad, Sal, moved to Steamboat while his son was pastor. Sal was a musician and was fairly well know in jazz circles. He played violin and would often join us. Our daughter Julie was learning the flute and I think Sal fell in love with her. He invited her often to join him at various functions (he was in his 80s at the time). Julie and he had a great time and we were very sad when he passed away. He and Fr Tom were both from Brooklyn, NY and had that typical NY accent, which was funny to us.

More later as I get inspired to write. Feel free to leave comments if you wish. 87 years is a long time to remember details.