People of the Times
September 7, 2005
Terry Butler is an Aspen businesswoman and a mixture of glamorous socialite and jock. This beautiful blonde is also one smart lady.She has been a success in everything she does, including competing in Olympic Trials in track during high school, winning every beauty contest in college, hosting television shows, modeling, mountain climbing and trekking, owning and operating a heavy-metal gym, dealing in antiques, owning and managing an Arabian horse breeding ranch, and in her latest endeavor, creating The Residence, a small boutique hotel in an old Victorian business block in Aspen.
Many of these successes were in Mexico City, where she went to college and became the highest paid model and television host in South America during the 1960s. Skiing brought her to Aspen in 1968, and she moved here permanently in 1977. It was in Aspen that she had her ranch and gym and now her hotel. But every year she takes time off for an adventure with The Explorer’s Club … this year’s trek is in Mongolia. Mary Eshbaugh Hayes
“Mr. Hyman’s cousin or nephew is here and seems to be a very nice young fellow, intelligent and anxious to learn the run of things, and will undoubtedly be an excellent office man.” So wrote the Smuggler Mine Manager, Mr. S.I. Hallett, in September 1889. Mr. Hallett would eventually leave the Smuggler Mine, and Mr. Cohn, the subject of the memo, would become the manager.Following the “Silver Crash” of 1893, the Smuggler attempted to remain open with the ever-optimistic view that the market would improve. But there were hardships to overcome. Among them a massive fire in the lower levels in 1897, which forced management to shut off many of the water pumps in order to extinguish the fire. In the fall of 1910 management decided that upper-level ore bodies were exhausted and it was time to de-water the lower mine shafts.All went well until the last remaining pump, submerged more than 60 feet, failed to restart. Mr. Cohn was the one who came up with the idea to use deep-sea salvage divers from the Merritt & Chapman Wrecking Company of New York to repair the damage. It worked. Larry Fredrick
No history of Aspen politics or Aspen craziness would be complete without mention of Fred Crowley, who came to the valley around 1970. A decorated Vietnam veteran, Fred became the city and county building inspector, and then county commissioner in the ’80s.Elected by the working-class vote, or in his words the “S–t F–k Howdy” constituency, Freddie kept editorial writers busy with his Southie vocabulary and his love of controversy.
If it’s true that God looks out for drunks and Irishmen, then drunks were likely neglected while he took care of Fred. A classic Aspen Times cover shows Freddie seated cross-legged on the sidewalk in front of the Jerome bar on St. Patrick’s Day, preparing a seven-course Irish Dinner – a six-pack and a potato.Fred still spends time in the valley, and he’s very active in veterans’ affairs. Doug Franklin
After her husband, Had, died, Lou was the “soul” proprietor of the T-Lazy 7 Ranch. As such, she kept her hand in every aspect of the operation. Her two sons helped her out a lot, but the “buck” stopped with Lou.One Thursday Steak Night, the place was packed when Fred Crowley, who was generally known as the electrical inspector, showed up at the ranch and announced himself to me (sleigh driver) as the interim health inspector, there to make a surprise inspection. I hunted Lou down and introduced her to Fred. As Fred explained the situation, Lou, thinking her chain was being pulled, played along with it for a while, and then when she could stand no more, took a bottle of beer off the bar and poured it over Fred’s head. The look on her face was fairly priceless when Fred finally convinced her he was speaking the truth. She passed the health inspection. Tony Vagneur
Recommended Stories For You
Sylvia was born near the Cowenhoven Tunnel at the foot of Smuggler Mountain in 1891.Her father wanted to name her “Silver Dollar” after Horace Tabor’s daughter, hoping that Tabor’s millions would somehow rub off on the new baby girl. Her mother strongly objected and “Sylvia” it was.
The family struggled to survive after the silver monetary standard was replaced by gold in 1893 and her father’s job at the Smuggler Mine was terminated. She remembered her childhood chore of carrying buckets of milk from the family cow over to the East Aspen neighborhoods, where she carefully measured pints and quarts to her customers. She didn’t dare return home until all the milk was sold. Her mother would count the pennies and hide the milk money in the teapot above the kitchen sink, then give an often milkless breakfast to Sylvia and her two sisters. Times were tough.I was a guest in her West Aspen home in 1957, when she proudly showed me her bear rug, spread out on the parlor floor. She was pregnant and home alone when a large black bear threatened to break down her chicken coop. Sylvia calmly took her husband’s rifle from above the kitchen door and killed the bear with one shot. In the late 1960s she told us about using the same rifle to chase away an overzealous realtor named Hans.”Now git!” she said. Jony Larrowe