Anniversary of Aspen Fire figure’s death reminds town of legacy

On a particularly bright-looking marble headstone at Red Butte Cemetery, an inscription reads: “Aspen Fire Department, W.W. Cornell, ‘Corney,’ Brother Always, Never Forgotten … Died July 15, 1902.”

While his name might not be familiar to most, former Deputy Fire Chief Cornell’s anniversary of death serves as a profound reminder of the continued legacy of firefighting in Aspen valley.

“​​This is the intersection of the past and the future, what we’re doing right now,” said solo finalist for Aspen fire chief Jake Andersen. “I’m here standing on the shoulders of giants who built this fire department into what it is today.”

Andersen keeps Cornell’s dark leather journal from the 19th century on his desk, which he happened upon when working as a battalion chief at another fire department. He entered a yard sale looking for swiftwater access, and a man offered the relic for a buck.

“That was when there was that tickle in the back of my mind of, ‘I wonder if I’m ever going to work for Aspen Fire,'” Andersen said.

Lo and behold, he did, presenting the journal when he accepted the job.

Andersen keeps the diary along with a  silver coin engraved with the words “memento mori” — or “remember your mortality” — to remind him to live a good life and die a good death. According to him, the two are often synonymous, and working at the fire department offers the capacity to dedicate life to others in a way that’s rare.

“That’s the magic of what we do here,” he said. “It’s, how do we show up for everybody else every day and give more than we get? … We don’t have much time here. Only 130 years ago, this person was partying at the Armory.”

Indeed, Cornell’s journal is filled with familiar activities that highlight similarities between then and now, underscoring both the connectivity of Aspen’s past and present and the reality of mortality. 

“If we’re here, we have something in common,” Andersen said of everyone who has lived and is living in Aspen.

Cornell’s journal covers his day-to-day life for the full year of 1889, where he notes everything from the weather, regular meetings of Hose Co No 1, covering as fire chief on certain days for his boss, fishing up Castle and Hunter Creeks, horseback riding, nights spent at the fire station, local fires, and the occasional funeral.

Cornell reports being “”stiff and sore all over” on May 11, the day after horseback riding, and having a hangover June 12. On June 16, he went to the Wheeler Opera House, which had just been completed earlier that year. 

A day of fishing up Hunter Creek on July 17 led to a little accident.

“I fell in as usual and went under water,” Cornell wrote.

A number of fires were also reported by him, including a barn burning down and wildfire.

“Forest fires raging close by town,” a Sept. 28 entry read. 

While the scale and magnitude of recent wildfires is unlike anything seen historically — all of the largest fires in Colorado’s history have occurred only within the past 23 years — Anna Scott, archivist for the Aspen Historical Society, confirmed fire was still a large concern in the 1890s and early 1900s, “hence why we had so many hose companies around town and volunteers who were trained at the ready to put out a fire.”

She also noted Cornell’s journal is still part of a firefighting tradition carried out for years, decades, and centuries locally.

“We can learn a lot from looking at our history,” she said. “By looking at history, we can feel connections to the stories of the past and what they went through.”

Andersen does acknowledge there are differences today compared to 1898, particularly the scale of wildfires, the climate, and the “fuel picture” of vegetation. The fire department also now has AI cameras that offer a 360-degree view to monitor fires.

“Today is different because we can do things differently,” he said, but he still sees a connection to a past over 100 years ago where “everybody wants the same things.”

Apart from working for the fire department, Cornell was also a painter who taught lessons in town. His dedication to serving members of the community pops up more consistently than anything else in his journal.

For Andersen, those synchronicities between Cornell’s daily life and modern day are what remind him to make the most of every day and live a life of service. 

“To me, the most important tradition in the fire service is doing whatever needs to be done to serve our community,” Andersen said. “I feel like we honor those people by figuring out how we need to show up for the community today. This is the intersection of the past and the future, what we’re doing right now.”