6495 Happy Canyon Rd.

Sound like an address from “Leave It To Beaver”?

It was the seventies.

Just after my year in Vietnam, the Air Force assigned me, a captain/major, to the Air Force Accounting and Finance Center in Denver, Colorado. Four years, 1970-74. Our young family’s first long-term adventure.

For my wife, a southern belle from Charleston, and me, a Yankee from Queens, it was a first taste of the “wild west.”

Christine was 4. Jim was 3. They had no choice but to tag along.

What did I learn about the “Mile High City”?

First, yeah, it’s a mile high but it’s kinda flat. The Rockies are still miles away.

The Chamber of Commerce story is that most of the snow is in the mountains. Denver, itself, stays pretty dry.

Yeah, not so much.

Denver’s seasons were July, August and winter. It snowed in September. It snowed in June. We called off a July 4 picnic cause it was too cold. That’s chilly, especially when you’ve been in Charleston and Vietnam for the past several years.

And oxygen is a rare commodity at 5000 ft.  One runs outta breath fast. Cooking and baking was a challenge for Marjorie.

Home was a place called “The Canyon Club.”

Our cozy, two-story apartment had a lovely fireplace. There was a vibrant community clubhouse and pool, which was great in the short summer. Neighbors were friendly. We were experiencing an exciting, different vibe than other times and locations provided.

Much of the craziness of the 60’s still prevailed.

Marriage was not a requirement for living together.

That was new then.

There were frequent parties at the clubhouse. I didn’t feel comfortable not accompanying Marjorie to a party, cuz it wouldn’t be odd for someone to “hit” on her.

I was a bit of an “oddball” with my short haircut and clean-shaven appearance.

In other words, “One of dem military guys.”

I may have been the only Air Force dude in there.

Then Jeffrey Paul, our third and youngest, came to us on July 19, 1971. We had been in Denver for less than a year and already grew out of our small apartment and had to move a few doors down.  Not great planning on our part.

We were now five.

Environmentalists were strong in Colorado. We were chided by some for daring to have a third child.

F them.

As we acclimated, the area’s beauty and splendor sunk in. Driving to and in the mountains in spring and summer was breathtaking, literally. We saw Red Rocks and the Continental Divide. The kids seemed to enjoy it too.

Marjorie even tried skiing.

I did not.

It was not unusual to see a cast on an ankle due to a skiing mishap. There’s a sure fire way to avoid such injuries…nuf said.

Four years at the Canyon Club.

We came to Denver as four. We left as five.

Full crew. For the rest of our lives together.

Enuf.