Colorado City during the 19th and early 20th century is often described as disreputable, colorful and full of characters right out of a 1920s silent movie.
Consider Prairie Dog O’Byrne and his team of elk (Thunder and Buttons), Laura Belle McDaniel (queen of the Colorado City tenderloin), Soapy Smith, Eat ‘Em Up Jake, and Bob Ford (the famous gamblers and card sharks).
But it wasn’t all fun and games; for many decades Colorado City and Westside residents were at the mercy of a demonic force, one that its citizens could neither prevent nor effectively combat: fire.
The men who founded Colorado City in 1859 left fire prevention up to property owners. Many hung rows of buckets on their wooden shanties and two-story buildings, but it wasn’t until 1887 that the City Council got involved by purchasing “a hose cart and a quantity of hose.”
The Colorado City Iris reported that “A fire department was immediately organized with membership of thirty.” A contemporary photo shows 19 men standing before a shack with a grandiose false front inscribed “Colorado City Hose Co. — No. 1.”
In those days there were no building codes.
Four years later, during the boom years, the fire department moved to the new City Hall building at 26th and West Cucharras streets.
But in those days, there were no building codes, no regulatory framework and no effective fire prevention. Almost all commercial and residential buildings were made entirely of wood, sometimes on a stone foundation. Once a fire was well-established, it could be unstoppable.
At 1:30 a.m. Sept. 9, 1892, a furnace in the building complex that housed the Colorado City Glassworks exploded, throwing molten glass into the floors and walls of the furnace room. The fire quickly spread, efforts at containment were futile and the glassworks were destroyed, as were many nearby buildings. The glassworks had an on-site hose company, but the fire was out of control within minutes.
The fires continued.
The Golden Cycle Mill burned in 1907, and Colorado City’s “Red Light District” of nine bordellos was destroyed two years later. In “Fighting Fire in Colorado Springs,” Lester Williams wrote that, “at the height of the fire Duncan Lamont, minister of the First Baptist Church, was praying and shouting and exhorting the flames to destroy the ‘dens of iniquity.’ Finally, the firemen grew tired of his interference and turned the hose on Lamont.”
In 1890, Colorado City Mayor Charles Stockbridge was victimized twice by arsonists apparently connected to his political rivals.
“While mayor of Colorado City, the Stockbridge residence was the center of much political activity,” according to the present building’s listing on the National Register of Historic Places.
On New Year’s Eve 1890, a fire, rumored to be arson, destroyed the house. Stockbridge rebuilt his home, took out extensive fire insurance and even hired a watchman.
“Despite these precautions, another fire broke out and the second home was also destroyed. Resolving to build a home that ‘neither fire nor hail nor the wrath of his fellow citizens could destroy,’ Charles Stockbridge built the house at 2801 W. Colorado Ave. Completed in 1891, it still stands today as testimony to Charles Stockbridge’s resolution.”
Why didn’t it burn? It was stone and brick, with a metal roof. Throughout the boom years of the 1890s, scores of Colorado City commercial buildings followed Stockbridge’s example, and many remain to this day. We can thank those merchants, builders and architects for creating buildings that are still useful, handsome and economically desirable after 125-plus years.
After the boom years, Colorado City’s economy stagnated. The fire department didn’t motorize until 1912 (having long relied on a team of two gray horses named Grant and Sherman). A Victor hose-and-chemical combination truck replaced the nags.
According to Les Williams it was “powerful and speedy,” having run to downtown Colorado Springs in just eight minutes. Yet the department was still underfunded and employed only two paid firefighters when Colorado Springs annexed the city in 1917.
Four new men were immediately assigned to the newly designated Fire Station 5. In 1921, a new building housed the station, and after 124 years it continues to serve the now-historic neighborhood that surrounds it.
Editor’s note: The March 1 issue will include a story about Station 5 from 1921 to today.
