Community Activist - Sarah Wolf

“The highways ruined Globeville,” Sarah Wolf explained.“Before the highways, Globeville was the best place in the world. We had people from all over the world - Austrians, Swedes, Germans, Russians, Polacks, Irish and one black family - and we all got along.” 
For years, rumors about construction of interstate highways were whispered and debated. In 1950, the Valley Highway (I-25) sliced off the western edge of the neighborhood, and in 1960 work began on I-70, the east-west thoroughfare that cut through the heart of the community. Battling the Valley Highway led to Sarah’s first experience fighting the city.  
“We had meetings at St. Jacob’s Hall, at churches, businesses and at city hall. When it’s your home, you have to stand up.” The neighbors even hired lawyers, but the decision to build the freeways through Globeville had been made long ago. Construction began and many long-time residents moved away. Not Sarah Wolf. “I was born in this house.” 
The house was built by her father, John Wolf. Sarah had a faraway look in her eyes.“My dad worked for the Globe Smelter for a dollar a day, using a wheelbarrow to move ore around. He worked nights, and during the day, he built this house. As soon as he saved a little money, he sent for other family members from the old country. My dad’s family and my mother’s family were all here and we all lived on Leaf Court.
“When they were in Russia, they had no say about their lives and had to answer to the czar. In this country, my dad, a poor immigrant, was elected a trustee of Globeville. He really liked having a say in making his town a good place to live.” 
Sarah inherited her father’s pride in his community as well as his talent for organizing. When plans to enlarge the Mousetrap were revealed in the mid 1970s, ramps to the neighborhood had been eliminated. Sarah’s voice rose. “Globeville would be cut off. There would be no access for the people who live here, fire trucks and ambulances would take longer to answer calls, and trucks would have to go through the neighborhood to get to their plants. 
“We held meetings at the churches, the lodges and the Globeville Civic Association. I persuaded the presidents of Noble Sysco and Anheuser Busch to write letters, and I got Councilmen Eugene DiManna and State Representative Ted Bendelow involved.” 
The letters and meetings paid off.
A bridge at 48th Avenue to the Pecos Street interchange was built and dedicated on August 30, 1978. Shortly after the bridge opened, Sarah’s neighbors petitioned the city to have the bridge named in her honor. In 1988, their wish was granted by Mayor Federico Peña. A bronze plaque that read “Sarah’s Bridge” was embedded in the base on the east side. The plaque represents much of what Sarah believed: that in America, an immigrant can make good, that persistence can prevail, and that the city government can be held accountable to all its citizens.   

 

The family of John Wolf about 1914.
Front row, left to right, Grandfather Peter Wolf, David,
John Wolf Sr., Sarah, Ann Marie (nee Kilthau).
Standing, left to right, Christine, Katherine, Adam, John and Hulda.
Used with written permission from Sarah Wolf.

Dedication ceremony, August 30, 1978
Left to right, Councilman Larry Perry, Councilman Sal Carpio,
Sarah Wolf and Manager of Public Works Harold Cook,
Used with written permission from Sarah Wolf.

 

Kohut Creamery

Today the intersection at 45th and Washington Street is a an exit from I-70, but the area was a busy commercial hub in Globeville before the highway was built. Jim Kohut remembers his family's business. "My mother and dad owned the Creamery. For many years, my dad had bought pieces of display counters here, there and stored them in the garage until the dirt was an inch thick on them. He always said, “One day, I’m going to open a business.” Eventually he went over to the old bar and restaurant on 45th and Washington there, run by Koprivics and rented an empty building adjoining their bar from them for $35 a month. Then he talked to Meadow Gold and they supplied our milk, eggs and ice cream. And Rainbow took take care of us on the breads. He put that all together and rented the building. My mother was scared to death. She got some material and made some outfits and hired Frances Popish, who was going to work for us. She was probably 18 at the time, her first job ever. She came in from 58th and Franklin in her little car to work for us. Our good friend Johnny Tanko helped dad make the sign for us that said Washington Creamery, and about killed himself putting it up. We got in there and everything was laid out, the ice cream, the bread, the milk, potato chips, can goods,you know, the basics. Johnny Tanko told my mother she had to take in 35 bucks that first day or go broke. And she took in $46. She was tickled to death.

“Later, we built a building at 4565 Washington on the west side of the street. The front part was all Creamery and we lived in the back. We had the business for four or five years, from 1942, and when I got out of high school, my folks sold it.”

Mary and Mike Kohut outside the Creamery

photo used with written permission from the Kohut family

Swansea - a Real Estate Development

Smelting (separating the valuable metal from the ore) was the Holy Grail of economics in Colorado during the 1870s, holding out the promise of untold riches and prosperity to those who could make the process profitable. A new smelter gave rise to the village of Swansea, a real estate development relying on the promise of jobs in the smelter and affordable housing. 
The Denver Smelting and Refining Company was incorporated in 1872 by Hiram C. Bond, Mein Fisher and Charles Reuter near the junction of the Colorado Central and Kansas Pacific tracks (about 40th and Josephine). Promoters set to work immediately, laying out parcels for home sites and, in anticipation of growth, Episcopalians dedicated the cornerstone for a church. Bishop Randall gushed, “…we see the walls of the church rising almost simultaneously with the wall of the laboratory which is to detect and develop the hidden riches of the land.” * The city directory for 1877 lists several employees of the smelter, but by 1880, the business was foundering, while the Boston and Colorado Smelter was a resounding success at nearby Argo. Although the settlement of Swansea had a town council in the 1870s, and was partially annexed to Denver in 1883, the community never formally incorporated.

Nonetheless, the area grew. Cheap housing was available for men who worked at the industrial jobs in the area: railroads, packinghouses and the Argo, Grant, and Globe Smelters. Yet the neighborhood retained its bucolic setting with a sparse population, modest homes, small farms, dairies and ranches. As the population increased, the Swansea School was built in 1890 and served children from both the Elyria and Swansea neighborhoods. The Mt. Olivet Baptist church was built in 1891 on the 4500 block of Thompson Court and there was the 7th Day Church of God on the 4300 block of Clayton Street. A period of growth in the 1920s produced more opportunities for jobs with the Eaton Metal Works, Ralston Purina, Rocky Mountain Paper Company, Colorado Serum, Denver Serum, Sunshine Biscuit, and Brannon Sand and Gravel Company. The increase in families with children prompted the construction of an additional building north of the original Swansea School in the 1920s.

Today, the Swansea neighborhood is referred to as Elyria/Swansea and struggles to survive amid industrial encroachment, deliberate neglect by the city of Denver, and the proposed widening of I-70. 
(The citizens of both Elyria and Swansea came from a variety of ethnic backgrounds, but didn’t settle in ethnic enclaves. Both neighborhoods were annexed to Denver in 1902.)

*Rocky Mountain News, May 14, 1873

Affordable houses in the Swansea neighborhood

Eaton Metal Products still provides jobs in Swansea

The Purina Plant looms over the highway.