North Side Story, by Phil Goodstein (New Social Publications)
Phil Goodstein subtitles this book “Denver’s Most Intriguing Neighborhood.” That may be a stretch. Still, there certainly has been plenty going on in north Denver — money and crime for instance.
And nobody tells the tales of Denver’s neighborhoods better than history’s curmudgeon Goodstein, who relays them through the architecture of the area. If there is a fact or a secret the author hasn’t ferreted out, it’s not worth knowing. He writes that the Humpty Dumpty Drive-In, which claims it invented the cheeseburger, probably didn’t, and tells the tale of Frank Smith who insisted he was stabbed by a ghost, and lived at 1444 Stuart St., a house that later belonged to Murph Cohen, the supposed “kingpin of Jewish organized crime,” Goodstein writes. Cohen’s body was found in Blue Lake, weighted down by two 30-pound railroad irons and a rock. North Denver did have some imposing mansions, including the Roger Woodbury mansion, called Ardoubleyu (for R.W., get it?) The site is now Diamond Hill.
Of course, because this is Goodstein, the book is filled with asides. He notes that My Brother’s Bar has “messy” sandwiches and posits that the “supposedly sophisticated” gather there after the symphony. He calls Caroline Bancroft a “would-be” historian. And he has less than good things to say about the Denver schools.
As usual, Goodstein does a remarkable job of collecting facts and presenting them in an interesting fashion. If there is less of a comprehensive overview than in the author’s previous books, that may be because the north side and its history are so diverse.
Jedediah Smith: No Ordinary Mountain Man,
by Barton H. Barbour (University of Oklahoma)
During a trying time on one of his explorations to California, mountain man Jedediah Smith wondered (in his journal) about why he and other men are so enthralled by the “vanity of riches.” Then he noted, “A few days of rest makes the sailor forget the storm and embark again on the perilous Ocean and I suppose that like him I would soon become weary of the rest.”
He never did succumb to home and rest. Smith was the quintessential mountain man — fearless, loyal and lucky. But he was more. Better educated than his fellows, he was religious, literate and abstemious. He was also a born leader, and in 1824, just three years after embarking as a trapper, he formed a fur trading partnership with William Ashley.
At heart, Smith was an explorer. He discovered South Pass in Wyoming, and he pioneered a route to California. The first time, before embarking on the journey through unknown country, he agreed to meet the following summer at the annual fur trappers rendezvous. The expedition encountered starvation, hostile Indians, house arrest by Mexican bureaucrats, blizzards and searing deserts, arriving at the rendezvous only two days late.
Three themes dominated Smith’s life, writes biographer Barton H. Barbour in “Jedediah Smith.” The mountain man was economically ambitious; he wanted to become a noted explorer like Lewis and Clark; and he wrestled with himself over spiritual failings. Barbour had no easy job because most of Smith’s journals and writings disappeared over the years. Smith himself attempted to write a book about his endeavors, but he died, struck down by Comanches in an ignoble death, before it could be published.
But fortunately for history, writers such as Barbour have kept his name and deeds alive.
