Landon: A summer shrine story — life beyond (Aspen)

For those who don’t live in Aspen, or even those who do but don’t ski, you may not know this: In the winter, there are “shrines” hidden all over our four mountains. Sometimes they’re little wooden huts. Other times, they’re mementos or laminated photos of heroes or lost loved ones. The Jerry Garcia shrine is a popular one. Popular ones, people know the locations of, they’re always tucked in the woods somewhere. Other times, they’re hidden gems you stumble across randomly while skiing through deep trees. Most often, they’re a fun pit stop to smoke some weed or have a drink to toast the person, pet, or memory the shrine is enshrined for. Ski patrol isn’t a fan, though; they call them “trash” in an otherwise pristine forest and will tear them down if you build them. I learned this from them directly when I walked into the ski patrol shack asking bluntly if they could point me to one shrine in particular: The Telephone of the Wind, aka the Wind Phone.

You see, in the winter of ’23, while skiing through some thick woods, I saw what looked like an old-school phone. It was clearly out of place in those woods, so I skied closer to check it out. I found a shrine! The Phone of the Wind. There was a wooden plaque explaining what it was for, and a few laminated photos showing the original Phone of the Wind and where they were located around the world.

The Phone of the Wind is a way to reach out. Not just to those who’ve left this mortal coil, but to anyone. The sign says, “It is a portal where you can speak privately to anyone alive or deceased.” I was a little taken aback by what I’d found and wondered what would happen if I picked it up and just dialed random numbers. I’m a big “energy” guy; I believe wholeheartedly and enjoy playing with stuff like this. Excited to see what would happen, I picked up the receiver on the old rotary phone, stuck my finger in the nine and swung the dial all the way over, watching with delight as it rotated back into place, making that cool whirring sound rotary phones make. I did it again, randomly jabbing my finger into numbers. I don’t remember exactly what numbers I dialed, but I do remember it wasn’t enough to be a real phone number. After “dialing,” I waited to see who would answer, if anyone.

Turns out, it was my uncle, Ken. Now, you can believe this part or not, but the rest of the story is absolutely true, and I’ve got the photos to prove it. My uncle had died several years prior, so it wasn’t totally random that he was the one who answered. “Hi, Uncle Kenny!” I said, recognizing his voice in the silence on the other end. We exchanged pleasantries, and he told me life in the great beyond was fantastic. As the call was ending, he said, “Landon, I want you to tell your dad that I’m okay, I’m happy, and that he can stop worrying about me.”

That was pretty profound. I called my dad as soon as I got home. I told him what happened: how I found the phone randomly, what it was, and how when I dialed random numbers, “I talked to Uncle Kenny, and he told me to tell you not to worry and that he’s okay and he’s happy.” My dad, a deeply spiritual man, was moved. He couldn’t believe it. He’d been obsessed with thinking of my uncle (his best friend) since his passing years earlier, and that direct release from him allowed my father to finally let go. I know this because my father told me so.

Shortly after, my dad decided he loved this idea of the Telephone of the Wind. He asked me if I could find it again to get photos, which is why I went into the ski patrol shack asking about where it was. The looks of contempt I got were priceless. It took three days of looking for a needle in a haystack. On the final day, I was about to give up, so I asked my uncle to help me, and he answered the call — literally, I found it! On the last day! I got some photos and sent them to my dad to use for the Phone Of The Wind he was creating.

Inspired by both my photos and the concept of the Wind Phone itself, he shared the project with some leaders of his spiritual center. The conversation about the phone was well-received.  

My dad found an old telephone booth, had it restored, and then presented it to his church in the winter of 23′. Now, The New Vision Center For Spiritual Healing in Scottsdale has the very first Phone Of The Wind in the state of Arizona!

This is just a tiny example of how Aspen reaches far beyond the Elk Mountains and the Roaring Fork Valley. You might think this is a story about my family and I, but it’s not. It’s a story about the family that is this community in Aspen. I didn’t make the Telephone of the Wind; I found it. That means some other kind soul was inspired to put it up there. They found an old rotary phone. Hiked it up there, found a spot in some thick woods they liked, and then created the shrine with the plaque and the laminated photos. They were likely inspired by the many other shrines that exist, created by other playful people, just like them. People just like you.

You see, this is a story of the long reach of Aspen’s arm. Be it the second-home owners who take a little bit of the mountain calm back with them to the big city, the goofball ski bums who decide to make shrines in the first place, or the professionals and ex-professionals who live here bringing intelligence, culture, art, and creativity in spades. That is what this story is about. I just happened to stumble across a tiny example of it while skiing one day. One that impacted my family, which in turn reached beyond Aspen and impacted the state of Arizona.

Aspen may be a small mountain town, but it’s got a big reach, which is why I champion this community as much as I do. Together, we are making a difference. Thanks for your participation. It’s not nothing.

Thanks for reading my stories and paying with your attention. I hope they make you smile and think.

This story is dedicated to my mother, Kellie Lyle Hartstein. Thanks for the inspiration, Mama.