Betty Wonder Oral History |
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Object Description
| Call Number | OH508 |
| Title | Betty Wonder Oral History |
| Creator | Wonder, Betty Lee, 1939- |
| Contributor | Colorado Voice Preserve |
| Date | 2013 September 21 |
| Summary | Betty Gallow Wonder was born July 17, 1939, in Denver, Colorado. A life-long resident of the Elyria neighborhood, she was the only child of working parents. She and many extended family members grew up and remained in the area. Betty spent most of her childhood with her extended family. She attended Swansea Elementary, Loyola Catholic, Cole Junior High, and Manual High Schools. She took her first job at age 14, and also left school early to find work. She has worked as a car hopper for a local drive-in, theater usher, saleswoman, factory worker, bartender, waitress, parking attendant, and a warehouse worker. In 1963, Betty was granted a divorce; her ex-husband died shortly afterwards. As of November 2013, she lives in her childhood home with her son. |
| Description | 1 audio file (70 minutes), 1 photograph |
| Is Part Of | Globeville and Swansea and Elyria Oral History Project |
| Subject | Wonder, Betty Lee, 1939-; Elyria-Swansea (Denver, Colo. : Neighborhood); |
| Geographic Area | Denver (Colo.) |
| Format-Medium | Audio; Photograph |
| Source | In the interview, Betty Wonder discusses the culture of the neighborhood, section 8 housing, the impact of Interstate-70 on the community, the possible contamination of the neighborhood and its sources, and the consequential health issues of the residents. She talks in depth about her family’s homes being taken during the initial Interstate-70 construction, her current home being taken with the proposed reconstruction, her possible relocation, Habitat for Humanity. She recalls visiting the Stock Show, circuses, and other shows during her childhood. She also discusses her involvement in the neighborhood watch program, other civic associations, employment history, current family members, old friends from the neighborhood, and old hang outs. She remembers the territory disputes between the youth of Elyria, Swansea, and Globeville, the boxing tradition of the area, former resident and professional boxer Max Baer, childhood pranks of her uncles and grandfathers, as well as the cultural tensions between different ethnic groups. |
| Rights Contact Information | Contact the Western History and Genealogy Dept. for reproduction information: photosales@denverlibrary.org |
| Reproduction Available for Purchase | No |
| Full-Text | Oral History Interview with Betty Wonder September 21, 2013 Interviewer: Cyns Nelson Interview Transcribed by Cyns Nelson [Interview takes place at the Valdez-Perry Branch Library in Denver, Colorado.] 00:00 CN: Today is September 21, 2013. My name is Cyns Nelson, and I’m conducting oral histories with residents from Globeville, Elyria, and Swansea neighborhoods. This interview is part of the Denver Public Library’s “Creating Your Community” project, and the oral history will be archived with the Western History Department. Right now I’m talking with Betty Wonder, a longtime resident of the Elyria neighborhood. So, let’s begin by having you state your full name, and tell me when and where you were born. BW: My name is Betty Ann Gallo “slash” Wonder. I was born July 17, 1939, in Denver, at Denver General Hospital. Um. CN: Tell me something about your upbringing. Anything that you might want to share. BW: Umm. I was an only child. I didn’t know we were poor. I had a very good family. We always-my dad always worked. My mother always worked, and we always had food on the table. I wouldn’t know what child abuse was, when I was a kid-thank God. I was raised pretty much with my grandma and my cousin and my aunts, and we all lived in Elyria, at that time. That was before my dad went to the war, and then even when he was in the war we all lived together. CN: What was your-do you know what your address was in Elyria? BW: In Elyria? It was-the very, very (light laugh) very first one was when I was born, and that was 1673 East 46th Avenue. Then we moved to (thinking) 47th and Franklin. I don’t know the exact address. It was in some terraces. Then we moved to my grandma’s, and that was-well, no, I’m sorry. I take that back. I stayed at grandma’s, and that was on 46th and Brighton Boulevard. Then we moved from there to where-the area I’m at now, is, I live on 46th and 19 Claude Court [?]. And my grandma’s house was 4600 Gaylord. So, that was pretty much all my houses I lived in. CN: Where did you go to school? BW: I went to school at Swansea Elementary. I was set in the borderline of Elyria and Swansea. They were going to send me to Elyria; they thought I was at the wrong school. Then they found out York Street was the borderline. Then I went-from there I went to Loyola Catholic School. From there I went to Cole Junior High. Went to Enunciation for a couple of months, and then I quit. And I went back to Cole, and then I went to Manual for a few months. But I wanted to work, I didn’t want school. I was too smart. (Laughing.) I went to Catholic school and they taught me too much. That’s why I’m still where I’m at. (Laughing.) CN: So, tell me about where you live right now, and describe your neighborhood for me. If you were walking down the street-what do you see, what- BW: Just where I’m living right now? I’m living on 4619 Claude Court, and it’s a dead-end street. All my family lived on that street, pretty much. [They] owned almost ALL the houses, except three. What I see now? Is terrible. It’s very unkempt, because the highway sits right next door to us. We have no trees. Even I don’t have any grass. I used to try to keep it up, but I had cancer and it’s hard for me to do it. But, it’s not like it was. I have some pictures that I’m going to bring, of how it was, in the ‘60s, before the highway. When the highway came, the highway done a lot of damage to that neighborhood. Even my little street. But, it’s not our street, the way I remember our street. Does that- 05:06 CN: Yeah. Um, so outside of your immediate street, tell me about your neighborhood. The physical structures, the culture, people. BW: Now? CN: Yep. BW: Okay. The whole neighborhood is blight, practically. It’s gone down. Used to be a nice little place, where everybody knew each other. People weren’t rich, but they kept up on everything. They kept their yards clean, they kept-everyone knew each other. NOW, you have nothing but Section 8 homes; you have slumlords that-and there are some houses, like on High Street, you go down there one day it’s empty; the next day drug dealers are living in it. We don’t know who owns them. It’s really gotten terrible. And then, you can’t find a parking place on the street, because half the cars don’t have license plates. I mean, it’s just- People have no sense of responsibility, anymore. They don’t care. They got a place to stay. And I’m sure half those cars are stolen. Just completely changed. The culture is terrible. I mean, you know, as far as-the people came in-in 1980, about 1982, they started bringing the wetbacks in from Mexico. They’d bring 7 to 15 men, and live in these houses. You’d go down the street, you could see they had mattresses on the floor. No manners whatsoever, they’d urinate in the front yard. They’d go down the street and stop in front of YOUR house and do it. Just, completely different culture than what we’re used to. And I think that was partly-well, the highway. Because people didn’t-we had some good people lived here. But then they finally moved; they didn’t want to stay here. And you can’t blame them. All night long, music blaring and that. That was in the ‘80s. It’s gotten better. We’ve been fighting, as much as we can. We’re not really winning, but we’re on top of it, a little bit. CN: So, it seems like there’s-you’re defining this sort of contrast between what you remember when you were really young, and now. So, let’s go back, and tell me what it is that you DO remember, all of your earliest memories. BW: My earliest memories? (Laughing.) Alrighty. I remember, in this neighborhood, I remember the stock show. We’d go to the stock show. And I was about three. My dad would put me on his shoulders and away we’d go. He’d always buy me a celluloid doll. I’ll never forget that. CN: Celluloid doll? BW: Uh-huh. They were Kewpie dolls, and they’d be on a stick. And I think they must-I don’t know how much they were, they had to be real cheap. My dad worked at the packing house. He’d buy me a doll, and we’d watch the rodeo, is what we’d go for. And, uh, what else. I remember going to the circus-we’d walk to the circus. That was on York Street. It was all outdoors. They had the freak shows and all that. I remember-I enjoyed it all, I wasn’t scared! (Laughing.) All the freaks, and everything. What else did we do. Really wasn’t a whole lot to do. We’d go to the park. We’d go for a ride-we always had a car. How we managed a car all the time, we always had one. We’d go to the mountains; drive to the mountains and back. Good times. Very good times. Go to the park-always go to the park. That’s about, about it. There’s probably more, but I just can’t think, offhand. CN: You kind of indicated WHEN things started changing. Really, was that with the construction of I-70? 10:03 BW: When I-70 came through-that was 1962 is when I think they opened it-and yeah, it was a severe change, because they knocked down a lot of homes. And then, um-I live almost under the bridge, where the ramp goes up to the highway? I live almost underneath it. CN: Right now? BW: Right now. Uh-huh. All my family lived there, and they took all their houses. CN: Your family’s houses? BW: Uh-huh. My grandma, my aunt, and my grandpa’s house. And then, I had another aunt that lived next door, and they took her house-and they left a portion. This is why I got involved with the community, the neighborhoods, about this-the new highway coming through. They had-went over to her, and they bought-they said, “Well, we’re buying your house.” We had no-they never came to us and said: “We’re going to have meetings to talk to you, let you guys know what’s going on.” We didn’t know what was going on. We just heard they were going to build a highway; Eisenhower wants his highway put through, and that’s it. You know, we had NO say-so. I was in my 20s. I wasn’t young, young. I knew what was going on. And they went to my aunt and they told her, “Well, we’re going to buy your house.” And she said Okay. “But we’re only going to take-we’re going to leave a portion of it. We’re not taking all of your property.” They left a piece of her property, wide enough like you can drive a car through-like a little road. You know, like you’re going to drive your car around. Because this was-this is a dead-end street that I live on. They said, “We’re going to leave that. Now, you can pay taxes on it, and keep it. Or, we’ll keep it.” So, they wouldn’t, they told her-so she, I guess they figured there was going to be millionaires when they came through and bought this property. To this day, they’re paying taxes-my cousins are paying taxes-on this, piece of dirt. CN: No house there? BW: No. You couldn’t put a house. You can put a hamburger stand, that’s how small it is. You can drive a car through. And I told them, I told them-nowadays I tell my cousins, I say: The city screwed you. Because they would have had to keep that open anyway, for the trash trucks to go through. So, anyway, they never became millionaires. My aunt and uncle are dead now, and my cousin’s dead, and her kids are taking it over. My dad had a garage, and we lived next door to my aunt. When they came through there, they left no right-of-way for any of his customers to come up to the garage. So, that little road that my aunt had, she said: Okay, you can use it. But we fought-they fought for years. My aunt would get drunk and get mad, because that was her property. Just, you know, craziness. My other aunt owned the house at the very end. Her property went from her back door all the way up to the railroad tracks. Well, she felt sorry for my dad, so she went and gave him permission to make a road. So, it’s like an alley, behind my house. If not, he’d have lost all of his business, because we lived on a dead end. They wouldn’t fight it. CN: Your family? BW: No. Because they were Depression people, and they were afraid they’d lose it. So, they weren’t dumb, they were scared. And I thought: That will never happen again. So-so far, so good. (Laughing.) They haven’t told me they’re going to-because they’re taking my house, now, this highway. CN: What have they told you about this, the process, for the reconstruction. BW: Nothing, really. I mean, we go to the meetings all the time, and they show-they haven’t even decided what they’re going to do, yet. Well, I’m sure they know what they’re going to do, but they haven’t told us. So-I know they’re taking me. I have no-there’s no ifs, ands, or buts about it. I’m going to be one of the lanes. CN: They’ve said that, for sure. BW: Yeah, uh-huh. They’re going to take that WHOLE block, where my family lives. Well, there’s only three of us that live there now. Three houses. But, supposedly they’re supposed to take them all. And all the lanes will go up to the highway, IF they keep it. 15:10 But see, we don’t know, about that. The only way they wouldn’t take me is if they went through Commerce City. You know, done that alignment [?], which I think is stupid, if they did that. Bettie’s fighting so hard to keep this highway here [Referring to Bettie Cram]. And I told her, I said, “Bettie, I think you’re fighting a losing battle. I think they know what they’re going to do.” She says: I know it. She says, “I do know that.” I said, “Well, be prepared.” She says, “Oh, I am.” (Coughing.) Excuse me. CN: Would you like some water? BW: No. (Coughing.) Sorry. CN: No, that’s okay. BW: Did you shut me off? [Recording is paused.] CN: You’re back on again, yeah. BW: And, where did we leave off? CN: (Laughing.) Uh. Let’s see. You were talking about what you know about the I-70- BW: Oh, the I-70 thing. And then, seems like, after they built that, people started moving away. And then, they were bringing all the people from Mexico in, when people would move. And then they’d take over the houses. We can’t have a store here, a grocery store, because the people destroy it. Everything we’ve ever had, they tear it up. It’s terrible; we don’t have a grocery store here. We don’t have anything. I think that’s why the slumlords can take it over, and rent to people that can’t find homes, and that. It’s a shame. Because this was a VERY nice neighborhood. And it was clean, and it’s not anymore. Um. CN: In terms of the-what you know about I-70 NOW, that process. We were talking about-you’re confident that your home, and your family’s row of homes- BW: Oh, yeah. Yeah, we’re going to go, for sure. CN: Well, so. What does that mean? What will- BW: They will come in, and I get-I think they give you three appraisals. I think they pay for two of them, and then one you have to pay for yourself. Or they pay for it. I don’t know what the whole deal is. But they’ll let you know. You get these appraisals, and then they will tell you how much they want to give you, and how much-whatever. And that scares me. My aunt and them got nothing. They never did tell me the exact amount. But, like I said, they were Depression minds, so anything was good I guess. They highway did do a lot of damage to the neighborhood. It really did. Like I said, there’s very few people that moved back in here. I’m, me and Bettie, probably are exceptions. CN: Bettie Cram is who you are talking- BW: Uh-huh. There’s a few other people that are still here. My mom and dad always lived in this house I’m in now. And I moved away for a while-I moved to Westminster-but I was there every day, to see my mom and dad. So I don’t feel like I ever moved away. You know, because I’ve lived in-30 years I was in different places. And then when my folks both died I took the house over here. It hasn’t been bad. But we do a lot of fighting on our block. I’m the-me and my son are Neighborhood Watch, with the police department. We have a lot of drug addicts; a lot of drug dealers; a lot of gang members. And I got a big mouth. They don’t like me. (Light laugh.) But, they kind of walk past me and don’t say nothing. I try to get involved as much as I can-neighborhood solutions, and that. 20:00 CN: Yeah. Tell me about, sort of, the history of the ways that you have been involved in the neighborhood throughout the years. BW: Well, I got involved with Neighborhood Solutions. And that was meetings they had for the highway. That’s been 12 years. They’re not here anymore, they’re in North Carolina. I still keep in contact with the woman that had it. Um, what else. We go to the neighborhood assoc-businessmen’s association [Elyria-Swansea-Globeville Business Assocation], with Larry, Larry Burgess. Then, we’re forming our own little association, Bettie Cram and I and Theresa-I can’t think of Theresa’s last name. They own the recyclable tires. Um, I guess that’s about it. CN: What was your occupation? BW: My occupation? I’ve been everything, little bit of everything. I started out as a-when I was 14, I was a car hop. (Laughs.) That was my first- CN: Forgive me. I’m not entirely sure what that means. BW: A car hop is a waitress on-that ran from the restaurants to the cars, and waited on them. Like “Happy Days” [television program]. No roller skates, though. I could have done that, if I wanted to. But I done that, and then I-you want all my jobs, I’ve been? CN: Sure. BW: I worked-after that I went to the Dennon Theater [?], which had one show a year. It was downtown-they tore it down. It was an exclusive theater, but they only showed maybe three shows a year. It was owned by a very, very rich woman. Very nice woman. I worked there for a while. I quit there, and I went to work at Western Merchants Wholesale. They put me in the phonograph record department. My mom and all-you’re going to find out we’re all a very close family. My mom and my three aunts all worked there, too. I worked there until, oh gosh-I was 19, I think, when I quit. No, 21. I got pregnant with my daughter, so I couldn’t drive. My husband was in the army, so I had to stay home. Then, when I went back to work-I stayed home for about a year, and then I went back to work, and I went-I made storm doors, I made storm windows; I made light fixtures. Made all these. And my last, and my favorite job of all, was King Soopers. I worked in the warehouse. I was one of the first women that got hired in the warehouse. CN: Which King Soopers. BW: It’s a general merchandise warehouse, right down here on Kalamath. But, they didn’t have women working in the warehouse, and the men sure didn’t like it. (Coughs.) Well, we fought all the time. And then they finally-it took about a year of not talking to each other, and then they finally gave in to us. I told one guy, I said: “Well, you know, I’m going to be here a lot longer than you will be.” I said, “I’ll be here and you’ll be gone.” And he started hollering. Well, he got fired. (Laugh.) And I was still there. I stayed there 13 years. CN: Why was that your favorite job? BW: I just loved it. I had done everything in the warehouse-there isn’t anything in a warehouse I can’t do. I started, filling orders; I ran a forklift; I loaded trucks. I unloaded trucks; I loaded boxcars; I unloaded boxcars. I worked in the cigarette room, where you cut the cigarettes and stacked them. Well, we used the forklift all the time. Then, I got a job in the office, and I worked in inventory. And I just loved it. We were family. Even though we fought, and that, after we once made up, we were the best friends, all of us. And up until-most of the guys are dead now. But, they always included me as one of the guys. (Laughs.) I always got along good with them. But I loved that job. I should have never quit. I did take a buyout. I shouldn’t have done that. But I was having some troubles at home, so I just quit. But that was my best job. 25:22 I think that’s my work history. But I started when I was 15-oh, no, that’s not all. In the meantime I worked bartending, I was a bartender, and a waitress. (Laughs.) My last job, I was a waitress. No, my last job was up until last week. I park cars, too. CN: Up until last week? BW: Uh-huh. My boss lost some plates [?]. That’s the only reason why I’m not working there. But he’s going to try to get it back, as a parking lot. Oh yeah. I’m still going. I’m still looking for a job. I was going to go to Walmart. My age is really against me. But I can still do it. I don’t care what they say. I can outwork some of those kids. (Laughs.) I THINK, I hope. That’s about it on my work history. I own my own home. After I divorced my husband I never remarried. CN: When was that? BW: I divorced him in 1963. And then he got killed not long after that. He got killed in-’72 he got killed. But, every house I owned, I bought myself. And my cars. I own three houses. CN: Now? BW: No. Oh no, no, no. When I quit my job, and then I went crazy, I guess. I don’t know if it was change of life, or just completely insane. But I walked away from all kinds of things. I quit my job-to this day, I kick myself in the butt, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I got my mom and dad’s house. And then I had two new houses. My kids were raised well. They went to good schools. My daughter went to Pomona-both of them went to Pomona. And then my son, he was kind of a mess-up. He was ADHD and drove me insane. He’s still living with me. (Laughs.) That’s why I’m goofy! No, he’s a good kid. He tries. He’s a lot-very intelligent boy, I’m really surprised. But, when he was young, I wasn’t-there’s no help for this kid! (Laughing.) He was so hyper active. I have three grandkids, four great-grandkids. And they’re all doing VERY well. Pretty proud of it. I say, “I can’t believe they’re mine!” (Laughing.) But they all turned out very good. They’re all, college degrees. My oldest grandson’s assistant principal, in Brighton. My granddaughter works for a design center. And my youngest grandson, he works for-they all for Guys Flooring. He’s a-I guess-like, a supervisor, on the new homes. CN: Tell me about people who you’ve known-neighborhood folks. You’ve mentioned Bettie Cram. What other people have you stayed acquainted with throughout the years, from your neighborhood? BW: Several of them, but they all died on me! Katherine Guyer-Katherine Murphy Guyer [sp?]. She was kind of like an activist in the neighborhood. She done a lot of stuff, and she was a very good friend of mine. She used to organize, try to organize parties and get-togethers for the neighborhood. Um, Joe Ciancio Junior-he was a councilman here. Joe’s in his nineties. They were friends. I knew them, because they had a liquor store. When I was a little girl-and this neighborhood, it was really a nice neighborhood-there was a lot of nice brick homes. Right here, where this one sits, there was a real nice brick home. Across the street-that pretty one on the corner, that one. Anyway, the Ciancios and the Perrys all owned all these nice homes. And they were the nicest people. They owned a liquor store and a grocery store, on the other side of the street. I still him, to this day. Just Joe and his wife. The rest have all died. The highway took a lot of people, and then plus age. 30:23 A lot of the boys that I ran around with when-they all started dying when they were 16. This is the most contaminated area of Colorado. 8-0-2-1-6. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of it. They say that’s the worst zip code there is. There must have been 17 boys that we all ran around with-there was a whole bunch of us. We were “wild childs.” We never hurt nobody, but we’d go to the cemetery and play hide-and-go-seek. Everyone thought: “Oh my God, look at them. Girls, they’re just as bad as those boys!” Never hurt nobody. Never done nothing wrong. I don’t think there’s any of them left. Maybe one or two, out of that 17, that are not-the rest all died. Brain tumors. Lungs. Heart attacks. Almost anything you can think of. And then my mother died of leukemia. They were all healthy. One night, we were sitting outside, it was-I was working at a bar-I got home about 2:00 in the morning, we were sitting out on the back porch, and this friend of mine said, “Look at that.” He said, “I bet that’s what killed your mom.” You could see the brake dust trickling from the highway, down into our yard. You know, brakes have asbestos. And I said, “You know, you might be right.” Because she died in 1982. She was fine; and then all of a sudden she got leukemia and died. (Coughs.) Excuse me. What else. I’m probably jumping all over, aren’t I. CN: No, that’s fine. The order doesn’t matter. So, what were the different kinds of influences that created contamination. You said brake dust? What else was going on that would cause- BW: Oh, what else. There was several things, but you know, right now my brain’s kind of dead. They used to dump all the blood and that, from the packing houses, into the river. And then they finally got caught-EPA caught them. And, I’m sure that had-you know, from the fumes and that. But, Purina-they say that they’re fine. Maybe now. But they dumped a lot of stuff over here. This one girl that was an activist for Swansea went and stopped them. I don’t know how in the heck she done it. They were going to do a hazardous waste for the hospitals. You know, the blood, and the contaminated stuff. And they were going to do it right down the street, here. And I guess somehow she got it stopped. They built the building and everything. They were going to burn this. Well, you know, when you burn it, it’s going to go right through the air. There’s a lot of things, and I just can’t think, right now. Oh, ARCO [ASARCO], the smelter. Even though that was closed down-I think it was closed down-for quite a while, I’m sure it still came out from the ground. And then, when I was a little girl, we used to go right around-where the Coliseum sits? Where that parking lot is, there used to be a dump there. And before the dump, it was a little swamp. We used to go over there-my dad used to fish in that little “pond,” is what it was. And, I know that thing had to be pretty bad. And then there was Grant Smelter, was right on the side. And I’m sure it leaked into there, too. You go into that parking lot right now, of the Coliseum, and it’s all sunk. You know, because no one takes care of it. And it WAS an old landfill. This whole neighborhood was nothing but a landfill. 35:12 You know, I know there’s a lot more. And I just can’t think, what attributed to a lot of the pollution. There’s trains behind my house. CN: Rail trains? BW: Mm-hmm. I have trains behind me, highway on top of me. On the VERY top of me, all the crazy airplanes. (Laughing.) What else. I couldn’t ask for more! (Laughter.) A lot of people say, “Well how can you live around here?” And I say, “To me it’s nothing.” When I was a kid, people used to say, “How can you live in this neighborhood, it stinks.” We had the stock yards, and then would come in on Friday night-trucks galore, loaded with cattle, and they’d drop them off. My girlfriend lived on Baldwin Court, and they’d pass her house and go to the pens. And then they dropped the cattle off that were going to be sent to the slaughter house. Then, on Sunday night, they leave. I can’t remember who it was, told me: “I don’t know how you can live around here. It STINKS.” I said, “Yeah that’s the stink of money.” It WAS the smell of money. Because this place was a thriving little town. We had the stock yards; we had National Western. What else-I’m trying to think. But, anyway, those were our two main things. We had a lot of rooming houses. There was a lot of jobs in this neighborhood, we had a lot of-oh, the packing houses. We had a lot of packing houses. There was rooming houses; there were 17 bars, just in Elyria. I got them at home, I forgot and left them in my home. I had named them all. You go up and down the street, and every bar was full. There was-oh, what else-all kinds of little small businesses. We had a shoe shop, and barber shop, and little stores. Just, whatever you needed, you could get here. If you really needed something-you could go downtown and get your fancy dresses, and go to the movies. We didn’t have a movie, that’s one thing. We didn’t have that. Many, many years ago they did, but not when I was young. CN: What is the difference between Elyria, Swansea, and Globeville. BW: (Laughs.) I don’t know. People say, “Where you from?” “Oh, I’m from east Denver, or I’m from south Denver.” You run into these people: “Where you from?” “Elyria.” “What’s Elyria?” “Well, that’s where we live.” “Well, where’s that at?” They think we’re all crazy, and we are. It’s always been that way. When I was a kid, they always fought-the guys. Always fought. I guess, they didn’t want nobody in their territories. I remember, down here? Swansea wasn’t as bad. But the guys from Elyria didn’t want Swansea guys down there. Now, they let the GIRLS come down, but they wouldn’t let the guys. I remember the Mexican guys from Manual and Cole, they had their own little gang called Heads, Baby Heads. And there were a few times they had some fights down at the park, and they were pretty vicious fights. They kept them away. They said, “Stay out of our neighborhood. You stay in yours, we’ll stay in ours.” But Globeville, Globeville went back-Elyria, I don’t know how far back that went. My uncles and that, they all were from down here. But they played ball-they weren’t no fighters. Well, I take that back. I had an uncle that was a bare-fisted fighter. My grandfather was a bare-fisted fighter down here. CN: Like, in competitions? 40:00 BW: Mmm-hmm. Yeah, they were all Irishman. He went under the name Mike Lawrence. And I never did check on it. I was going to go down and check in the history books, and that, and see if I could ever find it. Because whenever he went to the-put money away, he always had his own account for Mike Lawrence. When he died, we had a hell of a time getting it out. We got it out-Joe Ciancio helped us get it out, because he knew who my grandpa was. CN: What was his real name? BW: Morris Guheen [sp?]. CN: But we under “Mike Lawrence.” BW: Mike Lawrence was his fighting name. Not too upstanding, I don’t think. (Laughs.) He was the town drunk. I loved him dearly, but he was-he was a character. He was a real character. But they were bare-fisted-he sparred, I think he sparred with Max Baer, down here. You know, fighting? CN: I don’t know Max Baer. BW: He was a fighter. He was a very well-know boxer, he was a boxer. I think he was bare-fisted, too. I don’t know. But anyway, he fought bare-fisted. He always told me-I can’t remember the names, I wish I listened to him more. Well, I remember him saying them, but I can’t-I’d have to see them. Offhand, I can’t remember. But yeah, he did-he did a lot of- [Distracted by something outside the window.] Somebody’s in here looking for me; I’m hiding. But anyway. (Laughing, laughing.) I’m sorry! They had a lot of stuff down here, when my mom was little. See, my mom grew up here, too. My dad was from Welby. He was a farmer. CN: So, I had started by asking about the differences between- BW: Neighborhoods. Okay. So, you got to bear with this old lady! (Laughs.) Yeah. They had-Globeville goes back, that I know of, is my uncle. He’d be in his nineties, probably, now. They came from Poland. The Polacks pretty much ran Globeville, at that time. And I heard-I don’t know how true it is-that to go to church, over at St. Joseph’s Polish church, that Slovenians and all the other ones-the Polacks would make them pay to sit in the pews. I guess, scare them. So, they built Holy Rosary. That’s how I heard Holy Rosary was built. How true that was, I don’t know. It kind of sounds like it. But my uncle-when the Mexicans would come down, to go swimming in the swimming pool, they would take them, and hang them on barbed wire fence. There was a barbed wire fence-you know, a fence around the pool, and there was barbed wire on top-and they’d hang them by their hands _____? “Now, you want to go swimming? Let’s see how good you want to swim, next time.” Oh, they were mean. They were mean. That was in, I don’t know, but there was a whole bunch of them. He used to laugh about, how they used to knock the-people would go to the bathroom in an outhouse, and they’d go up there and knock the outhouses over, with the people in them. Just ornery. My uncle was a pretty tough character when he was young. He ended up to be a sweetheart. You’d never believe the things he told me. But he said, “No,” he said, they didn’t want the Mexicans down in Globeville. I said, right now they’re probably all rolling in their graves, because it’s all ran by the Mexican people, down there in the neighborhood. I said: Well, that’s how life changes. (Laughs.) What else. Then, Elyria, Globeville-uh, not so much Swansea, like I said, those guys weren’t too bad. But they hated North Denver-really hated North Denver. So, when we were young-I was terrible, too. I went and changed my ID, to make me older, so I could go to the 3-2 bar. My girlfriends, all of us did. We went down to the bar where they ran around, and they got mad we were there. So we left, and we started running around North Denver. That started a big war. (Laughs.) Big war! 45:10 But they were all-they loved to fight, these neighborhoods. Something in them, they all wanted to fight. I don’t know what else. That’s about the only war stories I can remember. But it wasn’t pretty. Like, every weekend there would be a fight. People would come over to this neighborhood and say, “Oh, I hear you guys are so tough,” and start fights. We had a bar called The Stadium Bar, and that’s where all the Elyria guys, and the Globevilles-they were a strange bunch. They would drink together and that, but yet, they didn’t want-well, I think by that time they had kind of settled their little-had a little truce. But every once in a while there would be a fight, down at the dance or something. But they would go to this bar, and people would come from all parts of town to start fights with them. They were pretty tough. They never really, weren’t bad-they didn’t put anybody in the hospital. (Takes a drink.) Yeah, their Saturday-night fights! CN: What do you think are some positive changes that are taking place, at least NOW. BW: You know, in Elyria, I don’t see none. It scares me, because they’re doing the Habitat for Humanity-which is nice-in Globeville. I was talking them, and I said, “Build me a house.” I always tease-what’s her name-I said, “I need a house,” because they’re tearing mine down. She said, “Well, you want to live in Globeville, we can build you one.” I said, “I ain’t moving to Globeville.” Then I had to tell her the thing-I don’t know, that’s not the reason, but I just-I don’t even want to be here anymore. I think I want to leave. CN: Where do you intend to go? BW: I don’t know. I really don’t know. I’ve got-my grandkids, they all live up north, Thornton and Arvada. There’s plenty of room there, but I don’t want to even live with them. Me and my son, we’ll decide, when the time comes-which should be about another year. I don’t know. I guess, when the time comes, we’ll figure it out. CN: What about the National Western Stock Show? Isn’t that continuing, and- BW: It’s going to stay here. Yeah. Well, and that’s another thing, that’s what I started to tell you, too-see how you’ve got to bear with me. Talking to them about Habitat, and she said, “Well, they’re going to be coming down to Elyria.” And I said, “Well, what are they going to do? There ain’t going to be no homes here.” They’re just going to take 47 homes, for the highway? You tell me how many homes are in this little area. Probably 50. I mean, there’s probably more than that, but they’re going to wipe this whole, whole Elyria out, because of the highway. I say: People don’t realize that. They’ve got to build new homes; they’ll probably build some high-rises and things like that. They’re going to have to. I don’t know, maybe they don’t have to. But I say: Elyria is going to be gone. So, I don’t see-I don’t see any future in Elyria. I really don’t. I HOPE it stays, because it was a lot of fun here. It was a nice little neighborhood. But I think that depends on C-DOT. Depends on C-DOT, what they’re going to do. Swansea-there’s enough homes in Swansea, that it ain’t going to hurt. They’re going to take a few of them, but from what I understand, most of that is coming down from Elyria. Almost all those houses. Well, there’s one, two, three-four, five, six, seven … nine houses on my little block, and they’re supposed to all go. That’s one whole block. It’s a dead end, but it’s still a block. 50:05 CN: Will you get a fair amount of money for- BW: I doubt it. I doubt it. Because, it’s started dropping, all the-it WAS up to a pretty good, you know, for a while. But then it started dropping. Somebody told me: Oh no, it’s starting to pick up. And I said: On Bettie Cram’s side of the-she lives on the south side-their property went up; ours went down. But see, they aren’t going to touch her side. I think they’re doing that so they can get the cheapest, you know. We’re not dealing with babies; we’re dealing with hardcore people that don’t care about people. That’s my thought about the WHOLE situation. Have they ever been put in this situation? You know, some of these poor people-I don’t know what they’re going to do. I really don’t. If they don’t die before it happens, where are they going to go? Try to go out to these homes-my friend put his mother in a nursing, in a home: $4,000 a month. Now, how you going to get that? I don’t get that much in Social Security. I said: What about those people that haven’t got nobody? You don’t want to live in the state-one of those sleazy nursing homes. I think I’d rather be dead than do that. But anyway. I don’t know what the highway’s going to do. But I know that, whatever they do, it’s never any good. Speaking of the highway and no good: Have you gone down on Pecos Street? And 46th? CN: I haven’t been there. BW: Don’t. CN: What’s there? BW: They made a-you know, you used to go north-south, east-west on Pecos, on 46th. Now they’ve got this roundy-round. You know, those-do you like those? CN: I don’t-I mean, I’ve SEEN them, I don’t what- BW: I got on and almost got killed twice. People just go right on through, they don’t yield. Then you don’t know where to stop. CN: Yeah. BW: I thought: Why would they put a thing right there? Right on top of the highway. CN: Oh, it’s ON the highway? BW: Well, it’s on top, on the bridge. They have a bridge, and to get onto the highway you have to go through it. To go down the side road, you’ve got to go on it. You know, I don’t know how in the hell you get around it! So I said, I ain’t going that way no more. Maybe it’s ME. Might be just me. But, I don’t know. Now, that ‘s another work of C-DOT. (Laughing.) I don’t like C-DOT. (Takes a drink.) Oh, I was going to tell you about the swimming pool we had here. CN: Yeah. BW: We had a swimming pool, at one time. I learned how to swim there. Snuck out every day. My mom would work, and I’d sneak-because I wasn’t supposed to go-and I’d sneak back. My eyes are beat red, and my hair’s kinky-curly, because I had naturally curly hair. And it was getting blonder and blonder from bleach. My swimming suit was hanging on the line, and then I’d act like I wasn’t-(busts into laughter)-she never said a word. She was such a sweetheart. And then finally, after a few years, she said: “I know you’re going swimming every day. Why are you hiding?” Anyway-(thinking out loud)-small businesses, packing house, stockyards, many bars. Oh! The Welcome Inn was a bar, and it’s over there still, on 38th-it’s in-as you go down Washington, it turns into 38th Avenue? There’s a bar on the corner. When I was kid, my dad weren’t the packing house. And everybody went there. Bought a beer-car hops came out-and they bought a beer and cashed their checks. It was the only six-percent place where they served beer, to the cars. (Coughing.) I could hardly wait, so I could go get a ginger ale. (Coughing.) [Recording is paused to allow narrator time to recover.] 54:57 We had a swimming pool. I don’ know when they built the swimming pool, but I swam there for a while. And then in 1950, something like that, they closed it down and got rid of it. We didn’t know why. Well, they had a polio epidemic, so they closed the pool down. But Globeville’s stayed open, so we started going to Globeville, swimming. Then our cemetery-our poor cemetery, it’s just right down the street. It used to be really pretty down there. I spent many a ditch day of school there. I’d ditch school and go to the cemetery. (Laugh.) I knew every tombstone in the place. Take my lunch down there-me and my girlfriend-and we’d eat our lunch, and just walk around. Because I hated school. But now it’s nothing-no trees, no nothing. It’s all gone to hell. No water. My mom and dad are buried down there, and I loved to move them, but I can’t afford to. Oh-Max Baer and his family lived here. In Swansea, Tim Allen? You know who Tim Allen is? Tool Time? CN: The actor? BW: He lived in Swansea. CN: Really?!? BW: His name was Tim Dick. And his dad got killed by a drunk driver; and his mom married some guy that was “Allen,” here, and then they moved from here to Detroit. CN: Did you know him? BW: No. Huh-uh. This was-he’s a lot younger than me. But he was on TV last night; and I told my son, I want to write him, and find out exactly what house he lived in. It was in the ‘60s. He’s a character. I knew some Allens that lived down there. There’s quite a few of them. He said he has seven brothers, but I think they were stepbrothers and that. (Sound of paper shuffling.) I guess that’s all the little things I was going to tell you-my little notes. CN: So, what do you think defines your neighborhood-what would you like people to know. BW: Mmm. I don’t know. I don’t know. (Laughs.) What do you mean? CN: Well, um. A lot of people drive on I-70, and they see the Purina factory, and they don’t really think about what’s going on underneath. What would you like people to KNOW about? BW: Oh boy. (Laughs.) I don’t know! Um. I’d like them to know that there’s a thriving little neighborhood down here. Well, they know they can go down to the National Western through here. People DO know this neighborhood, because they don’t want to pay for parking and they drive through the neighborhood, looking for parking spots. But, I think if it was more attractive? And not so scary? It’s scary-looking down here. You know, to make it look- There’s this place in Iowa, where the Quaker Oats-is it Des Moines? It’s not Des Moines. Rapid City? Quaker Oats has a mill-just like ours. And then there’s a highway- CN: Just like the Purina factory, you mean? BW: Uh-huh. It looks like it. And then there’s a highway. And on the other side of the highway there’s a Hilton hotel. Well, my grandson graduated over there, in Cornell, in Mount Vernon. And we all went out there for his graduation, and we stayed at that hotel. And that was the nicest, cleanest little thing. I said: It reminds me of our place, but our place is so LOUD, and, you know. Well-down here, gun shots every night. People in their trucks, squealing up and down the streets. Parties, galore. Music going on. You have to call the cops-I’m on the phone all the time. Cops think I’m part of the PD, Denver PD. (Laughs.) They probably call me “the crazy lady.” This one cop said, “No, we want to get”-there’s so many gun shots. You don’t want people saying, “Oh, you don’t want to go down there. You’re going to get shot.” They just shoot in the air, I think, is all they’re doing. I HOPE. 1:00:02 Like in Iowa, how nice that little city-you’re not afraid to get off that highway and come down here. I mean, a lot of people-(cell phone starts ringing)-are afraid. [Recording is paused.] Is that alright, what I told you about the highway? What I- CN: Yeah. No, I understand: You’re making a comparison, as to what it COULD be like. BW: Yeah. And, right now it’s nothing but drug dealers. People say, “Oh, well. “ You mention it, and they say, “Oh, on High Street? Yeah, I know about that.” That’s where all the stolen cars and all the drug dealers are. We don’t want to be known by that. We want to be known as a nice, quiet little-I mean, you know, nothing’s quiet anymore; nothing’s little. But it CAN be. If people were held accountable; if the police came through here and told, “Hey, you’ve got to do this.” The code enforcement people don’t come through. Too busy-OTHER neighborhoods, keeping it looking nice. They come to this guy, say “Hey, your weeds are seven-feet tall.” I’m talking about myself; mine are that way. (Laughs.) You don’t have to be spotless, but keep it, you know, where-put some pride in your own self. Put pride in yourself, your neighborhood will-you can make your neighborhood proud. I guess that’s what I ‘m trying to say. I’m not too swift. (Laughs.) CN: That makes sense. BW: Yeah, that’s about what I’d like them to see, is: Year’s ago, when I was a kid, the women-the little old ladies here in Globeville, Globeville especially-all those little Polish and Russian ladies would be out there with their little bonnets, on their hands and knees, scrubbing their porches, once a week, with a bucket and a brush. Cleaning, raking their yards. Those houses might not have been the nicest houses in town, but they were clean and nice. The yards were kept up. That’s what they need to do down here. That’s it! (Laughs.) I guess. CN: Okay. Um, I’ll ask again, if there’s anything else you didn’t get to mention? BW: Yeah. Keep my brain going long enough. CN: Keep your brain going-yeah, uh-huh. Um. But, you know, that’s all the areas that I wanted to cover. BW: Okay. I can’t. Oh-they talk about recreation, here. Something about your physical structures and that. You know, we have a recreation-we HAD a recreation center, and they sold it, to a private-and it’s nice. They keep it nice. But I don’t see our kids at it. They bring kids in from other parts of the neighborhood-of Denver. Not the ones that live here. I think that’s not right. Swansea, recreation center, our guy who worked over here is down there. That’s where they all go. Well, these other kids don’t have nothing else to do except tag all your alleys and things. I think that has really, has really knocked the neighborhood-on top of everything else. The guy-somebody told me that that guy who runs it, he really don’t care to have anything with the other kids, THESE kids. But they go out of their way to go get those other kids and have things. For the seniors? They used to have senior things? Well, all they have is one thing for the seniors, and that’s a bingo. Bettie goes to that. I don’t even go to it, because I’m usually busy on that day. But when they had the other one, they said they didn’t have the money to run it, but at least they had things for people. Maybe it wasn’t the greatest-but, I think that was a bad mistake for this neighborhood. 1:04:43 Our Lady of Grace is a church. I started going in that church the day it opened the doors. The priest we had was Father Moynihan, and he was-he was a character. He loved kids and he loved to do things. He’d come and pick me and my girlfriend up, take us to the swimming pool and go swimming. And the priest in Globeville (chuckles) didn’t like him, and made him stop. Went to the archdiocese and said: “That’s not nice; priests swimming with the kids.” Oh, had fun. He’d dunk people-just a character. Well, this priest in Globeville was a Polack, Father Guzinski. He wore a derby hat and had a little cane with a head on it. So, I went over to work for Father one night-I used to answer the phones-he said, “You know what?” He said, “I just figured this out.” He said, “You know who Father Guzinski is?” And I said, “Who?” He said, “Bat Masterson.” He said, “Look at this date. Bat Masterson supposedly died that day, and then that’s the day when this one was ordained?” (Laughter.) I could NEVER look at that priest again, like Guzinski. I always saw Bat Masterson there. My priest was such a character. He used to come to our house-my dad would cook spaghetti-and about, oh, once a month he came over and had spaghetti dinner with us. He would go to Hawaii all the time, and bring us back Kahlua and things from the islands. My dad and my uncle made Dago Red Wine, and he loved that. Boy, the minute that wine came in, he’d just sniff it and be at the house. (Laughter.) (Coughing.) He was-now, I don’t even go in that church, because they don’t speak English, at all. And I don’t speak Spanish. And I don’t think I should have to speak Spanish. I think: You’re in my country. And, good, you want to speak that way? That’s fine. I don’t care. I don’t see my grandma-well, of course, she’s dead now-or my aunts, and that, speaking Italian. If they’re at home and somebody don’t understand it, then they talk to them. But don’t have a church, in our neighborhood-even though it’s-there’s still white people around here, you know. Different cultures. That just irritates me. See, I’m prejudice. Very prejudice. Never used to be. But, they’ve made me. I think they’ve made me. Because I don’t think it’s fair, to the people that don’t speak Spanish. But anyway, they don’t-I haven’t seen a mass in there. So I go-to tell you the truth, I don’t even go to church anymore. And I don’t like that. I like to go to church. I NEED it. If anybody needs it, I need it. (Laughs.) Oh. Honey, I think that’s-outdoor space, we have none. Really, we’ve got a park, and stock yards, and that’s about it. Stock show, not the yards. We don’t even have a the stock yards anymore. CN: Do you like the National Western Stock Show? You still go? BW: No. No, I work all the time. I park cars. I don’t work for them, but I park cars by them. I know them, everybody there. Oh no, when it was thriving-when I was a kid, before it started getting real big-we used to go every night. No, I’m glad they’re keeping it in this neighborhood. That’s the only thing we have, to keep this neighborhood going. But the only sad thing is-like I was talking-if there’s no businesses here, what good is the stock show going to do us? They want to tear all these businesses-I think it’s 15 businesses that are supposed to be gone, because of this highway. There’s no businesses and no homes-I mean, the people will go. Oh, they’re going to flourish, the National Western. People come from all over. They come EVERYWHERE, now. But, it ain’t going to help this neighborhood. And they’ve got to do something to help this neighborhood. Now Globeville, they came a long ways. I do have to commend Globeville. They’ve come an awful long ways. But this place-over here, nobody wants to do anything. You try to have something where people will come? And they won’t come. They will not come. There’s me and Bettie, and a few other old goats that go. But the rest won’t come and help-help fight for the neighborhood. We’re going to figure a way, though. You watch. We will figure a way. I hope I’m here! (Laughing.) I hope I’m here. CN: Well, that seems like a pretty good place to end. Thank you. I really appreciate that you were willing to take the time to be recorded. BW: No problem, honey. No problem. When anybody sees that, they’ll say, “What in the hell did you talk to her about?” (Laughter.) 1:10:38 [End of recording.] [End of interview.] |
Description
| Call Number | OH508 |
| Title | Betty Wonder Oral History |
| Creator | Wonder, Betty Lee, 1939- |
| Contributor | Colorado Voice Preserve |
| Date | 2013 September 21 |
| Summary | Betty Gallow Wonder was born July 17, 1939, in Denver, Colorado. A life-long resident of the Elyria neighborhood, she was the only child of working parents. She and many extended family members grew up and remained in the area. Betty spent most of her childhood with her extended family. She attended Swansea Elementary, Loyola Catholic, Cole Junior High, and Manual High Schools. She took her first job at age 14, and also left school early to find work. She has worked as a car hopper for a local drive-in, theater usher, saleswoman, factory worker, bartender, waitress, parking attendant, and a warehouse worker. In 1963, Betty was granted a divorce; her ex-husband died shortly afterwards. As of November 2013, she lives in her childhood home with her son. |
| Description | 1 audio file (70 minutes), 1 photograph |
| Is Part Of | Globeville and Swansea and Elyria Oral History Project |
| Subject | Wonder, Betty Lee, 1939-; Elyria-Swansea (Denver, Colo. : Neighborhood); |
| Format-Medium | Audio |
| Source | In the interview, Betty Wonder discusses the culture of the neighborhood, section 8 housing, the impact of Interstate-70 on the community, the possible contamination of the neighborhood and its sources, and the consequential health issues of the residents. She talks in depth about her family’s homes being taken during the initial Interstate-70 construction, her current home being taken with the proposed reconstruction, her possible relocation, Habitat for Humanity. She recalls visiting the Stock Show, circuses, and other shows during her childhood. She also discusses her involvement in the neighborhood watch program, other civic associations, employment history, current family members, old friends from the neighborhood, and old hang outs. She remembers the territory disputes between the youth of Elyria, Swansea, and Globeville, the boxing tradition of the area, former resident and professional boxer Max Baer, childhood pranks of her uncles and grandfathers, as well as the cultural tensions between different ethnic groups. |
| Rights Contact Information | Contact the Western History and Genealogy Dept. for reproduction information: photosales@denverlibrary.org |
| Reproduction Available for Purchase | No |
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