From the Vault: Falling for Fall
“What is Aspen?” questioned Mary Eshbaugh (Hayes) in the Aspen Times on November 13, 1952. “Is it a miner’s town, a writer’s haven, an artist’s dream, a skier’s paradise, a millionaire’s playground? The newcomer hears these various descriptions of Aspen and wonders just what this tiny city in the mountains is. May I tell you the picture Aspen painted for me this autumn. It’s the happy shouts of children as they play at dusk while their mothers cook supper. It’s the chimes of St. Mary’s Catholic church as they sound and then re-echo through the town. It’s the sweet faced little old ladies who sit on front porches and tell you of the early days in Aspen when it was a young, sprawling miner’s town. It’s the 19th century houses, covered with gingerbread, sitting beside a Swiss chalet or ultra-modern home. It’s the cracked old flowered wallpaper in tiny bedrooms where the eaves make the ceiling meet the floor. It’s riding the chair tow up the mountain side with the aspens whispering, their golden leaves shimmering like water flowing over gold dust in a creek. Its sitting on the Sun Deck with the sun on your face and gazing out at the snow covered majestic peaks. The aspens are golden gashes on the mountain sides where they grow up the sides of the gulches. Its hiking down the mountain roads with the smell of the evergreens, hot in the autumn sun, Aspen overhead and fallen yellow leaves scattered over the faded brown dust of the road. As you enter a clearing, a herd of sheep stares at you and then runs pell mell down the mountain side. It’s the crowd of people who attended the school carnival and had a wonderful time. Aspen, then, is a friendly town where you can look around at the mountains early in the morning and be glad that silver once brought men to settle here.” The photograph above shows a herd of sheep being driven down Bleeker Street, circa 1950.
This photo and more can be found in the Aspen Historical Society archives at aspenhistory.org.
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Raising spuds was a big business in the Roaring Fork Valley back in 1945 according to this old news article declaring the spuds ready for harvest on Sept. 20, 1945.