DenverUrbanism Blog

The ghosts of Denver’s past buildings are fading fast from our collective memories.  For every preserved Larimer Square or D&F Clocktower, there are hundreds of structures that have been demolished since Denver was founded back in 1858.   Unfortunately, detailed photographs of this built environment are limited to the most prominent structures of the time and even then, much of the early residential character of downtown has been lost, both in memory and in any photographic archive.  If we are lucky, some of this early history can be dug up at the library or even on E-Bay.  Such was the case recently when I was searching for early Denver school photographs.  Among all of the Denver Broncos paraphernalia, a photo of Public School #1 (later known as the Arapahoe School), was for sale.  While I had seen many archival photos of this school in library collections, I was anxious to own one for myself.

Public School #1 circa 1875

Club Building circa 1890

In 1955, both buildings were summarily demolished for a big parking lot without much thought given to their histories.  So next time you’re walking through Skyline Park north of 17th Street, nod your head to this ghost of Denver’s past and listen for the screams and laughter of the school children of pioneer Denver.

For more information on this subject, consult:

Snow, Shawn M. “ ‘A Premonition of Our Future Grandeur:’  Building Denver’s First Schools.” Colorado History:  Denver Inside and Out 16 (2011): 21-30.

Those familiar with the Poundstone Amendment are often surprised to learn it actually takes its name from Freda Poundstone—a housewife turned conservative lobbyist—who was later also mayor of Greenwood Village, among other notable accomplishments. Ms. Poundstone’s death on November 7th marks the closing of an era one might say. Coming to power in the early 1970s, during the blossoming of the women’s movement, Poundstone was at the forefront of change during a time when both Pat Schroeder was elected to Congress (being the first woman from Colorado to achieve this) and Dana Crawford was busy helping change our downtown landscape.

Poundstone’s legacy of course was her tenacious and vitriolic battle against big, bad Denver during the 1970s. Much like Dana Crawford was criticized for questioning the conventional wisdom in downtown urban renewal schemes i.e. as proposed by leading male politicians and power-brokers of the time, no one in the Denver establishment took Freda Poundstone seriously when she proposed amending the state constitution to prohibit the city from annexing suburban land to enable it to grow outward. She proved Denver wrong as voters across Colorado approved the amendment that now bears her name in November 1974. During later interviews on this issue, she almost waxed nostalgic on how fun it had been to go up against Denver and win one for the so-called little guy.

In reality, her amendment was more aimed at removing suburban Arapahoe and Jefferson Counties from any possibility of being included in Denver’s impending court-ordered busing scheme for desegregation purposes, which also began in the fall of 1974. But getting her amendment passed was no small feat. It required a state-wide organization and educational campaign to convince voters in all counties why they had an interest in stopping Denver from gobbling up surrounding counties.

We can thank the creation of the City and County of Denver in 1902-04 for the resulting Poundstone Amendment. Prior to that time, Denver was the county seat of Arapahoe County. In that sense, it was just another city and subject to the same annexation laws as any other city inside a county. For example, Aurora is a city that straddles three different counties. By becoming a city/county jurisdiction however, this made the annexation law as related to Denver a bit ambiguous. This change didn’t matter much for Denver, Jefferson, Adams or Arapahoe Counties for the first forty years of the 20th century as Denver made no annexations until 1941.

After the city broke away from Arapahoe County, it also absorbed other towns as well as large parcels of empty land that were adjacent to it. Over the ensuing forty years, the city grew within its boundaries which remained at 59 square miles. However, after the Depression, the city realized that future economic growth would occur outside its 1904 boundaries. The same law that created the City and County of Denver did not outline a clear provision of what would occur if the city decided to annex land in the future. Consequently, the city undertook annexations as if it were any other city in the state, even though its annexations resulted in a loss of county land for the other county—literally the land ceased to be in that county, school district, special district, water district, etc. With this problematic annexation policy, the city pursued an unprecedented expansion that continued unabated from 1941 until Christmas Day 1973. During that time, the city doubled in size, reaching nearly 120 square miles by winter 1973—with a resultant loss of 60 square miles from Adams, Arapahoe and Jefferson Counties. Arapahoe County feared Denver was going to cut it in two as it continued to annex down the I-25 corridor toward County Line Road.

Each new annexation that Denver undertook increasingly angered the surrounding counties. Annexations were challenged in court, especially by Arapahoe County, but Denver managed to prevail in most cases throughout the 1950s and 1960s. However, by the early 1970s, Denver’s forays went deeper and deeper into suburban territory and began to alarm many suburban county officials and school administrators. More court challenges and further battles ensued with Denver. Jefferson County led the way in the 1970s, challenging nearly every one of Denver’s approximately 40 annexations in the southwestern metropolitan area. While the city continued fighting in the courts and continued annexing whatever land possible, its aggressive tactics drew the ire of Freda Poundstone. Through her successful campaign, she became a local legend for her efforts on behalf of angry suburban county commissioners to stop Denver’s annexations. Her one-woman campaign forever changed the landscape of metropolitan Denver politics.

Tune in next time for a discussion on the legacy of the Poundstone Amendment in Denver.

These two words aren’t normally seen together!

The very thought of Denver County annexing any land from surrounding counties has been virtually impossible since the Poundstone Amendment was passed in 1974.  Prior to that time, the City and County of Denver made hundreds of annexations, doubling its area between 1941 and 1974 to about 120 square miles, much to the anger of surrounding county commissioners.  Since Poundstone, Denver has been treated more as a county than a city when it comes to annexations.  You wouldn’t see Arapahoe County trying to annex a piece of Douglas County for example.

Another law was also passed in 1974—at the same time as Poundstone—but it is little remembered today.  A Boundary Control Commission was passed by voters and offered another option for Denver’s expansion—or not—during that era.  This regional agreement between Denver, Jefferson, Arapahoe and Adams Counties technically allows for adjustments to Denver’s borders but it has been virtually impossible to get any agreements on such changes since it was passed.  Thus, Denver’s borders have been essentially frozen in time since 1982 and are among the most convoluted of any major city in the country.

So how shocked was I to read the Denver Post article related to the potential use of the Boundary Control Commission or other maneuvers to allow Denver to annex 300 acres adjacent to its land near DIA in order to have a place within its boundaries for the relocation of the National Western Stockshow.

We here at DenverUrbanism were talking about this very scenario after the Stockshow announced it was moving to Aurora.  But we thought using the Boundary Control Commission was as likely as getting the Poundstone Amendment repealed.  The fact that it is even being brought up is testament to a belief in regionalism and working towards common goals.  It also doesn’t hurt that Denver Public Schools is no longer under a desegregation order, but that’s another story.

Whether or not a Gaylord Entertainment Complex and National Western Stockshow relocation to the northeast metro area has merit is also questionable and could, would and should take up many other blogs herein.  It’s a complex issue relating to sprawl, long-term sustainability, lack of transit even though the DIA train will be nearby and overbuilding of hotel rooms so far from the center of the city.  Consequently, I’m just focusing on the annexation issue for now.

Ironically, the land for both projects sits just north of 64^th Avenue.  South of 64^th is a large parcel of land that used to be in the City and County of Denver (north of Green Valley Ranch) that had to be de-annexed by court order after Poundstone was passed.  In other words, Denver had nearly annexed the land back in 1973 that is now proposed for both Gaylord and the Stockshow.

The land is certainly not in the core of Aurora or Denver.  But if the Stockshow is going to relocate to this area and if Denver voters are supposed to pay for its relocation, then it certainly should remain within the city/county boundaries of Denver.  I fully support, and in fact, I demand that the wheels of government pursue this boundary change to allow for annexation.  But even if this occurs, the battle will only be half won for Denver.  The parcels currently sit in Aurora and Adams County with an Aurora mailing address under zip code 80019.  This will remain in place even if the land is brought into Denver.  If Denver truly wants the Stockshow to have a Denver mailing address, it is also going to have to battle the US Postal Service to get permission to move a zip code boundary. Such a battle as this could make a repeal of Poundstone look easy!!