Contact Kelli,
temporary manager
of Doug's
"The Wondering Jew"

Jul. 26, 2007 - 18:48 MDT

OPEN SPACES

Nowadays most every developer is more or less forced to donate land for a park in his development. When I was a kid it wasn�t that way, nor were there very many developments the size of those today.

When I was little there was City Park with the zoo, the lake with the lit up electric fountain on summers nights with plenty of seating for folks to watch the fountain while listening to the band at the lake side.

There was another lake at City Park where various waterfowl lived.

Then there was Rocky Mountain Park, across town and a bit west of that was Berkeley Lake where there used to be swimming and playgrounds. Still a bit west of that was Lake Rhoda at Lakeside Amusement Park, it had rides galore, a little steam engine that took kids around the lake.

A couple or so blocks from where I was raised was Sarah Platte Decker Park, a block with trees, shrubs and my beloved library. Much bigger than that though was a park a little east and about a mile north, Washington Park. It had two lakes, one of which I remember the pier and people swimming. Across that lake was a nice structure, two stories at lakeside where ice skaters could shelter and warm up a bit. There was a concession stand on the lower level that dealt in hot chocolate and hot dogs for the cold and hungry. I loved ice skating there in the winter time.

I loved that park the most. I saw my first ice hockey games there, college teams playing in the big tennis courts.

They put Eugene Fields� house in the northeast corner of the park, and it was open to the public. About mid park was a sculpture of Wynkyn Blynkn and Nod in their boat, which seems to me resembles a Dutch wooden shoe as a tribute to Eugent Fields.

Eugene Fields, The Children�s Poet. Not only was he known for Wynkyn Blykyn and Nod - - but that wonderful one of:

LITTLE BOY BLUE

The little toy dog is covered with dust,

But sturdy and stanch he stands,

The little toy soldier is red with rust,

And his musket molds in his hands,

Time was when the little toy dog was new,

And the soldier was passing fair,

And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue,

Kissed them and put them there.

That poem of his I can�t seem to get through without a tear trickling down my cheek. There were so many Little Boy Blues back then who suffered the same fate.

Washington Park is verily my favorite of Denver�s OPEN SPACES . . . . .

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