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.

Elyria

Most people in Denver only know Elyria by the odor produced by the Purina Chow facility and only see the area from the highway that decimated the neighborhood. None of these current views does justice to the area.
Once a bucolic suburb marketed to people escaping the grime and industry of Denver, Elyria was platted on March 29, 1881 by Archie C. Fisk, President, and C. F. Leiman, Secretary, of the Denver Land and Improvement Company, who promoted “A Plan Whereby Every Man May Become a Householder.” * The company’s goal was “buying up cheap tracts of land adjoining the city and platting them into town lots, or garden patches.” The promise of horsecar lines with cheap fares attracted men who worked in the smelters, railroads, factories, and meat packing plants but who wanted to raise a family in a rural community away from those industries. The northern boundary was Adams County at 52^nd Avenue, the southern boundary was 38^th and 40^th Avenues, the western boundary was the Platte River, and the eastern boundary was Josephine, now extending all the way to Colorado Boulevard to include the Swansea neighborhood.

Although the settlers of Elyria objected to the smoke and soot from the industries in Denver and Globeville, they embraced any activity that would provide revenue - gambling, prize fights and around-the-clock drinking in 17 saloons. Elyria was a wide-open town.

As more families moved to the area, signs of civility began to appear. The Pilgrim Congregational Church was dedicated in 1884, the Elyria School built in 1885 and the town trustees set aside land for a park. A desire to improve city services and negotiate water, sewer, lighting and transportation convinced a majority of villagers to vote for incorporation in August 1890. An impressive town hall and fire department was constructed in 1894 with a large auditorium where plays, concerts and boxing matches were held.

Elyria’s residents thought of their town as a suburb, but the area was surrounded by the industries that provided jobs: the smelters, railroads, stock yards and meat packing plants. Although many of its citizens were immigrants, there was no concentration of any one group and no ethnic churches.
As Denver plans to widen the highway that destroyed the neighborhood, it might be worthwhile to look at what has been lost.

*Prospectus, Denver Land and Improvement Company, Rocky Mountain News, 1880

A great book about the area is Elyria: Denver's Forgotten Suburb 1881 - 1941 by Elizabeth L. Macmillan.

Matt Sadar Saloon 3rd and Powell Streets in 1903

photo used with written permission from Joe Sadar

4601 Race Street about 1960

photo used with written permission from Betty Macmillan

Modest homes 4736 Vine Street about 1960 

photo used with written permission from Betty Macmillan

    

Pysanky

Because the Eastern Europeans and Russians who migrated to Globeville endured religious and cultural oppression in the "old country" they enjoyed continuing their cherished customs, such as ornately decorated Easter eggs. Called pysanky by Ukrainians, pisanki by the Polish and pisanica by Croatians, the blown eggs were decorated using a stylus to draw designs with melted beeswax. The patterns, symbols, and colors all varied by country and even by region, but many featured symbols of spring, Easter, faith, and the Resurrection. The winter months and six weeks of Lent provided ample time to decorate the eggs.
The process involved heating beeswax in a small bowl on a stove and scooping up the wax in the stylus as needed. The hot wax was applied to a clean surface of the egg, rotating the egg while drawing. The egg was then immersed in the first color. More designs were drawn in wax and the egg was dipped in another color. The process continued with added designs, always going from light to dark colors. After the last color was applied, the wax was removed by gently heating the egg and rubbing off the wax with a soft cloth.
These eggs were given to friends and relatives as a symbolic wish for a good life, and could be displayed all year, since they were hollow. Many of these eggs would appear in the baskets that were blessed on Holy Saturday. What remains is a rich tradition of making art from the simple egg and beeswax. 

Globeville's Bad Man Dies from Alcoholism

The past is sometimes remembered as a more romantic and civilized time, but a headline from the Denver Republican from April 12, 1909 tells a different tale, that of Globeville's "Bad Man," Henry Conter.

The story begins well enough with Conter purchasing a grocery store on Washington Street and taking "credible" care of his family. Soon after, he began to drink excessively and boast of his reputation as a gun fighter. As Conter's behavior became more erratic, his wife and children moved to a neighbor's house and he began to attract the attention of law enforcement.

Police officers Higdon and Dore, who were assigned to the Globeville area, responded numerous times to citizens' complaints that Conter had threatened them with a gun. Neighbors began to refer to Conter as the "terror of Globeville" for episodes where he would get drunk, barricade himself in his store and shoot until he ran out of ammunition. Arresting the 200-pound, beligerent man was no easy task, but it became a regular occurrence in the otherwise peaceful neighborhood. After one particularly violent incident, Conter was fined $120 and told by Police Chief Armstrong that "unless he changed his methods in Globeville" he would be escorted out of the city.

On the morning of April 11, customers stood outside waiting for the grocery store to open, notifying the police when no one answered the door. Officers Higdon and Dore found the fully-dressed Conter dead on the floor. An empty bottle of whiskey was on the table.

The conclusion was that "Death Likely Due to Too Deep Indulgence in Drink." He was 35.

"Globeville's Bad Man Dies from Alcoholism" Denver Republican, April 12, 1909, pg 2

Ghost of ASARCO

Each day, thousands of commuters pass ASARCO's Globe Smelter site with hardly a second glance at the Globeville landmark. Built in 1886, the plant operated first as a smelter that separated valuable metals from raw ore, then as a producer of specialty metals. The company closed in 2006, and plans for remediation and development of 77-acre complex are now moving forward. The many buildings and structures now being dismantled provide a glimpse of a 120-year-old company with an interior life of its own.
High, wire-topped fences surround the site and it's difficult to see all the buildings, but Steve Stevens, Safety and Personnel Manager from 1967 to 1988 recalls many of them."The tall building housed the Godfrey Roaster that roasted low-grade products from Amarillo and from Leadville, and East Helena, Montana. And there was the unloading building, the bag house, the calcine building, the tank house, and the solution department. They also had the retort department where they purified the metal, and the cadmium sulphide department where they made the paint pigment for cadmium yellow. There was the thallium department, the indium department, the litharge department, the casting department, the premelt room, the change house, the respirator room, the laundry room and the locker room.
"The two-story home near the 51st Street entrance to the plant was the superintendent's house from the old days when he lived on the property. The house contained an old safe with 'Globe Smelting and Refining' written on it. There are also ledgers with the names of employees - Slovenians, Croatians, Poles, Germans, Russians and some Hispanics - from a time when there were three shifts running seven days a week. 
"In the old days, we used to have a garden right on the property and we grew vegetables. And we had a baseball team and played for the championship in 1948 at Overland Park, beating Central Bank one to nothing."
Long gone is the housing provided by the company: the 125-room Globe Hotel for single men and the 10 or 12 houses along Sheedy Row, with accommodations for families. And there was the Globe Mercantile where men could cash their paychecks and purchase everything from food to bicycles.
"A lot of guys were very grateful for jobs at the Globe because they were able to raise a family and buy a house." 
It is hoped that the clean up of the site will also offer jobs and the opportunity for families to settle in Globeville. 

Top photo, Godfrey Roaster building

Second photo, cell house 1926

Third photo, warehouses A, B, and C in October 2010

Bottom photo, warehouses A, B, and C in January 2012

Globeville Boxer, Henry Rein

"I was the welterweight champion for awhile and then I got smart and quit." 85-year-old Henry Rein reminisced. "I worked at the Rio Grande Railroad and they had a group down there who worked out in the gymnasium all the time and that’s how I got started. We used to put on boxing shows down at the yard for the folks who worked at the Rio Grande, and they taught us how to box, which is different from street fighting. 
"Gus Pappas was the guy who used to set up the matches at the carnivals and got in touch with you. He said I was his boy because I would always fight. I used to box against the carnivals — take all comers. I’d have four or five fights a night. I’d hurry and come home from the railroad and go over to the carnivals.
"I was about 17 when I went professional and we used to drive to Durango, Manassas, and Nebraska, working for a percentage of the gate. I never did make big chunks of money - $115 dollars is the most I ever made for a single fight, but that was good money those days.  I was champ from ’29 to ’34.
"I married a Globeville girl, Lydia Engleman in 1934. We met at the Frieden’s Evangelical Lutheran Church there on 45th and Lincoln and we lived in Globeville after we got married. My wife didn't mind my fighting and used to come to see me box once in awhile.
"I retired from boxing in 1939. I had a bread route for Happy Home Bakery and also hauled trash. Then I was the business agent for the Teamsters Union, Local 13 who handled highway construction. I traveled the state, checking the sites, making sure new guys joined the union and that everyone was carrying their cards and were paid up."
Henry retired from the Teamsters Union and he and Lydia moved to the new retirement complex, Windsor Gardens in 1962. Lydia passed away in 1987 and Henry in 1997.
A conversation with Henry Rein, and his daughter Reneé and son-in-law Ron, in his home in June, 1996

  

Somebody up there likes me

In the 1956 film biography of boxer Rocky Graziano, middleweight "Cowboy" Ruben Shank is mentioned, a detail for which Shank would receive a small royalty. In his later years, Shank would appreciate the monetary gesture. 
Raised in a family of Germans who emigrated from Russia, sons Adam, Ruben and Emil Shank were all capable boxers, but it was young Ruben surprised the boxing world in 1942 when he easily won a match with Fritzie Zivic, a brawler who was noted for "thumbing" the eyes of his opponent. A win over triple-crown titleholder Henry Armstrong at the Denver Auditorium was much closer, causing some critics to complain of hometown bias. 
Shank's continued success over former champions catapulted the 20-year-old newcomer to a bout with Sugar Ray Robinson in Madison Square Garden on August 22, 1942, one of the most important competitions in Shank's career.
The underdog Shank started fast, pummeling Robinson. But Robinson came back in Round 2 to drop his opponent four times and finish him. For several years, the scrappy Globeville resident continued to challenge big-name competitors, losing twice to former middleweight champ Fred Apostoli in 1946. However, it was a match with Melvin Brown in Minneapolis that resulted in Shank's knockout loss and damage so severe that he nearly lost his life. Although he slowly recovered, the National Boxing Association ruled that Shank couldn't fight again and his manager, Chris Dundee, agreed.
Shank challenged the decree in Denver District Court and Judge Henry Lindsley ruled in 1952 that the boxer could resume his career. Armed with the ruling, the 31-year-old Shank fought  a dozen more times, possibly the cause of his labored speech during his later years.
For 28 years, he worked for the Denver Public Works Department and moonlighted at the Mile High Kennel Club. Ruben Shank passed away at age 74 in December 1995. Friend and former boxer Ray Schoeninger remembered, "Reuben was the nicest and most honest person you'd ever want to meet."


"Ex-boxer Shank Dies at 74", Denver Post, December 14, 1995. by Alan Katz.
Photo of "Cowboy" Reuben Shank with Roy Rogers, courtesy of Betty Reed.