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Top of the Town 2013

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Intro: 

Top of the Town: The best of the mile high city.

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We’ll come up with almost any excuse to abandon our office and get out and about. The best one we’ve managed so far: pulling together our annual guide to Denver’s best stuff. After months of hard work—that is, dinners out, cocktail tasting, shopping, and concert-going—we finalized a list of 106 of the Mile High City’s top people, places, and experiences. Read up and hit the town. You’ve got some exploring to do.

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View the complete listings in our Top of the Town 2013 section here.

 

View the complete listings in our Top of the Town 2013 section here.

View the complete listings in our Top of the Town 2013 section here.

View the complete listings in our Top of the Town 2013 section here.


City Park

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An urban backyard turns into a family retreat.

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The inspiring DIY story behind one urban backyard’s transformation from afterthought to serene family retreat.

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Architect Renée del Gaudio had fallen in love: In their search for a historic house in Denver, she and her husband, Ross Wehner, discovered a gorgeous Victorian in City Park West. Built in 1896, the home was a rare find—it was untouched by the late-20th-century spate of bad remodeling that stripped so many houses of their original materials and details.

“The house was fantastic, perfect, just what we wanted,” del Gaudio says today. And then she and Wehner saw the backyard: 2,400 square feet of concrete, with weeds pushing up through the cracks. The owner had planned to split the home into apartments, so he had turned the backyard into a parking lot for future tenants.
Del Gaudio and Wehner were undeterred.

They bought the house, and del Gaudio set to work creating a design for the yard that would transform it into a modern, casual sanctuary in the city—a place where the couple could entertain their friends and the kids could play outside. “In our hearts, we’re mountain people,” she says. “The idea of living in a dense urban neighborhood was a little daunting, but we knew that if we could have a naturally beautiful place to be outside, we’d be happy.”

From the start, the pair knew they’d do the work themselves—with help from their family and friends. “I designed it so carefully that I wanted to execute it myself,” del Gaudio says. “It wasn’t anything we couldn’t do.” Wehner even removed all the concrete.

The pair spent two summers constructing the yard. The first year, they tackled the architectural elements: Layered decks made of ipe wood extend from the back of the house toward a dining area that is paved with bricks from the home’s original construction, which the couple found stacked in the basement. Del Gaudio laid the brick in the weeks leading up to the birth of their first child. “It’s meditative work,” she says. “It was a good job for a pregnant woman.” (We’ll have to take her word for it.)

Meanwhile, Wehner’s mother, a mason, built a brick-and-mortar cooking grill along the yard’s south wall, which gets shade in the afternoon. Denver furniture-maker Ethan Hutchinson, a friend, built the garden’s two gates—one at the yard’s front entrance and the other at the alley—from vertical-grain fir and translucent acrylic. Del Gaudio designed them to pivot on a vertical steel tube hinge. “I love the way the sunlight radiates through them,” she says. “You get light and privacy.” A contractor built the garden foundation and wall—virtually the only hired help the couple enlisted.

The next summer, the owners added plants and trees. With help from del Gaudio’s father, they built a 40-foot raised planting bed, installed it along the sunny north wall, and filled it with strawberries, vegetables, and herbs. Maiden grass grows between the decks to soften the look, del Gaudio says. A series of columnar aspen along the alley acts as a privacy wall. A honey locust, with its long limbs, gives shade all summer, and a goldenrain tree stretches out over the deck and signals summer with its early-season yellow flowers.

The project’s only hiccup was a wading pool for the kids. “We imagined it as a place where you’d soak your feet, sitting beside the garden bed,” del Gaudio says. The couple didn’t get the drainage right, “so it ended up filling with nastiness.”Even pros have to improvise sometimes: In this case, the duo bagged the pool idea and turned the structure into a sandbox instead. 

When the work was done, the backyard became the family’s go-to spot: playroom during the day, dining room in the evenings, party spot on special occasions. Friends who visited in the summer months traded the home’s non-air-conditioned rooms for tents they pitched in the yard.

From their vantage point, the guests might have admired the distinctive combination of the home’s 19th-century architecture and the yard’s modern vibe. Del Gaudio herself loves the contrast. “In architecture in general, a mix of old and new is always more interesting than going 100 percent in either direction,” she says. “The contrast tells the house’s story. It shows that a modern family lives in this historic house. We feel like it’s our contribution to the home’s story”—one that delivers a very happy ending.

Dudley Brown's War

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Dudley Brown’s political strategies may be hurting more than helping. 

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The executive director of Rocky Mountain Gun Owners
has been aiming to remake Colorado politics using hyper-aggressive and
confrontational political strategies. 

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The .45-caliber Nighthawk T3 Comp that had felt so heavy to me looks featherlike in Dudley Brown’s firm, two-handed grip. He slices the air, bringing the gun from his waist up to eye-level in a blink. He pauses, then flicks the safety and squeezes the trigger. Two quick shots thunder through the low-ceilinged range, ejecting bullet casings that clatter on the cement floor. Twenty-five feet away, a single hole pierces the target through the center of the outlined chest.

It’s a Friday afternoon in May, and the 47-year-old executive director of Rocky Mountain Gun Owners (RMGO) is initiating two new staff members at the Front Range Gun Club in Loveland. Brown—unassuming in a baggy, camouflage hunting shirt, his full face slightly reddened and graying blond hair cropped close—has also brought a fully automatic MP5 machine gun he carries with a special federal permit. An expert shooter and instructor, Brown is a popular figure at the range—and at the nearby Grimm Brothers Brewhouse, where he relaxes with his protégés after the demonstration. The welcoming environment contrasts with that of the Colorado political scene, in which Brown is becoming something of a pariah.

“You’ll probably lose some friends when they find out where you’re working,” he warns the clean-cut young men, with obvious relish. It’s almost as if they’ve joined a cult—and in a way, they have. Their new boss has spent nearly two decades taking aim at select Colorado Republicans—and rarely missing. He savagely and routinely attacks candidates and officeholders unwilling to pledge, in writing, their absolute loyalty to Brown on Second Amendment issues. The Supreme Court’s Citizens United ruling in 2010—the “corporations are people” case—spurred myriad nontraditional political groups into action, and Brown has capitalized on his group’s newfound freedom. He’s built RMGO and the National Association for Gun Rights (NAGR) into a double-barreled fund-raising machine that bullies anyone who compromises Brown’s pro-gun, anti-abortion, anti-gay agenda. (A favorite showy tactic is driving around in a Pinzgauer, a boxy, big-wheeled Cold War–era Austrian troop truck that Brown calls his “political pain delivery vehicle.”) Says former state Representative B.J. Nikkel, a Larimer County Republican who ran afoul of Brown last year after she voted for civil unions legislation: “He’s a political terrorist and a modern-day charlatan who operates in the shadows and portrays himself as a supposed ‘Christian,’ but he uses the people naive enough to believe him and financially support him.”

He’s also a primary, if almost unrecognized, reason why Democrats, in a little less than a decade, have turned this once-red state a deepening shade of blue. While Colorado has changed, Brown—Colorado politicos know him as just plain “Dudley”—has not. Nor does he intend to. The RMGO’s demand of “no compromises” on gun rights is an indirect shot at the National Rifle Association, which Brown sees as too willing to cut gun control deals. (The disdain is mutual; the NRA once called Brown the “Al Sharpton of the gun movement,” too extreme for America’s most notorious firearm lobby.) True to form, last July, two days after James Holmes shot 70 moviegoers in Aurora, killing 12, I asked him about proposals to limit ammunition purchases. When I mentioned Holmes had 6,000 rounds with him that night, Brown said, “I call 6,000 rounds running low.”

Brown’s hostage-holding of any center- or left-tilting Colorado Republican has crippled the GOP’s ability to regain a political foothold, making Colorado a swing-state microcosm of the national GOP’s biggest problem: breaking free of its base and becoming more “inclusive,” an imperative Republican National Committee Chairman Reince Priebus outlined in March. Indeed, Brown doesn’t give much thought to the Republican team. “If you’re not feared in politics, you’re not respected,” he told me one day in his office. “And I don’t really care anymore about trying to play nice.” As he spoke, hanging on the wall behind him were photos of his wife and two children—affixed to the front of a case that stores a loaded combat shotgun.

If Colorado Republicans have not been widely successful in recent years, how has Brown become one of the most powerful people in state politics and raised his national profile? It turns out this modern-day Machiavelli amasses more influence and income when his party loses than when it wins. By taking out moderate Republicans in primary races, he’s left the GOP with fewer officeholders, most of them staunch conservatives in a state where nearly two-thirds of voters register as either Democrats or independents. Many of the remaining Republican lawmakers are more loyal to Brown than to the state party, itself an increasingly impotent and underfunded organization. As Democratic majorities at the state Capitol pass more progressive laws, Brown’s members have begun to literally hit a panic button: the “contribute” links in his organization’s near-constant emails. It’s created a golden opportunity for Brown—and maybe for Democrats, too. Progressive activist Ted Trimpa, an architect of the Colorado Democracy Alliance, says Brown’s nefarious ways have aided his causes, but he doesn’t necessarily welcome the help. “Dudley sometimes makes our day,” Trimpa says, “but overall he’s poison in our ecosystem of democracy.”

Almost Twenty years later, former state Senator Don Ament still remembers finding himself in Dudley Brown’s cross hairs. Ament was driving along I-76 toward Sterling when he passed a large plywood sign that read, “Defend Guns, Defeat Ament.” At first, he thought his eyes had deceived him—until he passed another. “I lived on a ranch my whole life,” Ament told me. “We had rifles in our pickups. Nobody ever thought I was a gun control guy.”

He just wasn’t pro-gun enough for Brown. In 1996, Brown hit Ament with a devastating mailer while Ament was running for Congress. The state GOP offices were then located on Colfax Avenue near the Diamond Cabaret strip club; the flier’s photo, taken as Ament was leaving the party’s office, was shot at an angle that made it look like he’d been enjoying lap dances. The text read: “Send Denver Don home to his wife.” This was when the philandering Bill Clinton was president, and the message resonated. Ament lost the Republican primary to Bob Schaffer, and the Dudley Brown playbook was born.

Brown, a Wyoming native, was primarily raised in South Dakota but didn’t embrace guns much until attending Colorado State University. He also apparently got into drugs, copping to a use of controlled substance charge in 1988. Today, he shrugs: “I did stupid things in college. I don’t think I’m the first.”

At CSU, Brown founded a student GOP group and was elected chairman of College Republicans of Colorado. It was the 1980s, the Cold War still unresolved, and Brown disliked Fort Collins’ collegial political climate. “The College Republicans were having doughnuts with the College Democrats, even during Reagan’s re-election year,” he says. “I didn’t want to have doughnuts with them. I wanted to beat them over their heads.”

The RMGO website once listed Brown as a CSU graduate; he recently corrected his bio to say he “attended” CSU after being confronted with records showing he never actually graduated. He’d left school early to work for Republican U.S. Senator Bill Armstrong before becoming the media director for the House GOP caucus and later the legislative director for the Firearms Coalition of Colorado.

While working for House Republicans, Brown made his own headlines. At a Super Bowl party downtown in 1991, a woman poured beer on Brown because she said he’d been harassing her. He allegedly responded by smashing her head against a sink while trying to douse her with beer. He denied the charge and was later acquitted by a jury.

Brown founded Rocky Mountain Gun Owners in 1996. Early on, the 501(c)(4) nonprofit pushed his agenda at a time when the GOP mostly ran Colorado. “They wanted to make sure the candidates had true conservative ideals,” says Mario Nicolais, a Republican attorney who got to know Brown while working for former Congresswoman Marilyn Musgrave. “If they lost a seat or two, it didn’t really matter because, back then, Republicans held large enough majorities."

When Republican Bill Owens became governor in 1999, the GOP controlled both state legislative chambers, both U.S. Senate seats, and four of the state’s six congressional posts, so there wasn’t much gun control legislation for Brown to oppose. Then, three months into Owens’ term, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold murdered 12 of their classmates and a teacher at Columbine High School in Littleton before taking their own lives. It later emerged that a friend had purchased weapons for them at a gun show, leveraging a loophole that allowed gun purchases without background checks. The following year, Colorado voters approved a ballot measure, supported by Owens, that closed the loophole.

It was a galvanizing moment for a fringe group seeking its niche. Brown inundated Owens with postcards from his members and sent bullhorn-wielding RMGO supporters to shout down the governor at public events. “The NRA ‘got’ politics and was rational, easy to deal with,” says Sean Tonner, Owens’ deputy chief of staff. “All Dudley wanted to do was create controversy. He makes his money when there’s turmoil, real or perceived, because that’s what gets his members to write him checks.”

Brown even tried to embarrass Owens at an annual GOP state assembly by sending a group of supporters wearing “Tyranny Response Team” T-shirts to loudly boo the governor’s renomination. “The attacks just never stopped,” marvels Sean Duffy, who moved from Pennsylvania in 2001 to become Owens’ new communications director. “He’s exactly what’s wrong with the Republican Party all rolled up into one guy. He’ll say or do anything to destroy viable candidates and legislators who agree with him 90 percent of the time, because you’re either 100 percent with him, or you’re 100 percent against him.”

The unraveling of Colorado Republicans can be traced to the 2004 campaign season. The party entered that year with a seemingly safe 37-28 House majority; they left it reeling from a Democratic upset, the seeds of which were sown in the most unlikely of places: the GOP’s own primaries. The decisive blow came in Greeley, where Pam Groeger, a conservative Republican, ran against small business owner Bob McFadden, a comparative moderate. Groeger had challenged McFadden for being soft on abortion, and one of her campaign mailers depicted McFadden apparently stealing a Groeger yard sign. The lawn, however, was McFadden’s own; the sign had been planted by whoever surreptitiously snapped the damning photo. The text read: “Can you trust Robert McFadden in your state house? Tell McFadden integrity counts.”

It was a classic Brown tactic (although he has not admitted involvement). When the Greeley Tribune later reported that McFadden was set up, Groeger’s integrity was put into question. She ignored the Tribune’s calls for her resignation, and the guerilla tactics split Republicans in the election against Democrat Jim Riesberg. Groeger had won her primary but lost a district where her party had a six-point voter registration advantage.

Colorado’s Democratic takeover would not have happened so quickly if the party hadn’t won three seemingly safe GOP seats. Republican Rob Witwer later co-authored The Blueprint, concluding the GOP lost Colorado as much as Democrats won it. “Our own scorched-earth primaries provided the perfect opening for Democratic funders like Tim Gill and Pat Stryker”—who, with Jared Polis and Rutt Bridges, comprise the so-called “Gang of Four” that’s often credited with solidifying Colorado’s Democratic stronghold—“to finish off weakened GOP candidates,” Witwer says.

As it turned out, 2004’s results were no aberration. In 2006, Democrat Bill Ritter was elected as governor in a 17-point romp. In 2008, national Democrats planted their flag in Denver and nominated Barack Obama for president. He carried Colorado easily, Democratic Congressman Mark Udall won a U.S. Senate seat that had been in GOP hands, the state House remained in Democratic control, and Democrats suddenly held five of the state’s seven congressional districts.

Among the noteworthy also-rans in 2008 was Marilyn Musgrave. Based on demographics, her 4th District—encompassing mostly rural northern and eastern Colorado—is one no Republican should ever lose, and in doing so she went from being Brown’s biggest success to his biggest failure. The Pentecostal Christian had been one of Colorado’s most conservative lawmakers in the 1990s, focusing on right-to-work law and abortion at the state Capitol. Elected to Congress in 2002, she sponsored a Constitutional amendment banning gay marriage and infamously referred to the subject as the “most important issue” facing the country.

Musgrave was a nearly perfect politician to Brown and his allies: brothers Jon and Mark Hotaling and Guy Short, who was Musgrave’s campaign manager and chief of staff. (Short has since been Minnesota Congresswoman Michele Bachmann’s political director and campaign manager and is currently facing a federal ethics probe related to campaign spending during her 2012 presidential bid.) Nicolais recalls how the group used Risograph machines—affordable printer/photocopiers for high-volume projects—to generate direct-mail attacks on Colorado Republicans. “Jon Hotaling, a pastor, told me he loves the sound of the Risograph because, ‘It’s the only thing that keeps the sound of the murdered babies out of my mind,’ ” Nicolais says.

B.J. Nikkel, who once worked for Musgrave, says her former boss was merely a puppet for what Nikkel calls “the Four Horsemen of the Political Apocalypse.” By Musgrave’s third term she’d become an embarrassment to D.C. Republicans, who barely bothered defending her 2008 loss to Betsy Markey. Losing such a prominent seat should’ve been debilitating for Brown. Instead, by preying on a divided, weakened, and suddenly dysfunctional Republican Party, he and his organizations attracted more donations and grew even stronger.

In 2010, Republicans rebounded—just not in Colorado. As the GOP gubernatorial candidates imploded, essentially handing the election to Democrat John Hickenlooper, the U.S. Senate race remained winnable for the Republican Party. Michael Bennet, who’d been appointed to finish Ken Salazar’s term, was untested and awkward on the stump. Jane Norton, formerly Owens’ lieutenant governor, was moderate and formidable. She was not, however, a favorite of the newly powerful Tea Party and its anti-establishment conservative groups, who preferred Ken Buck, the likable, conservative Weld County district attorney. Brown, Short, and the Hotalings backed Buck with mailings and political connections. (Jon Hotaling, especially, also made almost daily phone calls to Buck, to the occasional chagrin of his campaign manager, John Swartout.) South Carolina’s U.S. Senator Jim DeMint, a Tea Party star, even came to Denver to campaign with Buck. This helped him beat Norton in the primary but backfired in the general contest as Democrats used Buck’s declarations of conservatism, so popular with primary voters, to paint him as an extremist.

The campaign turned on Buck’s visit to Meet the Press, in which he compared homosexuality to alcoholism, saying genetics plays a role but that both are ultimately choices. Democrats had been saturating the airwaves—women describing Buck’s restrictive positions on abortion and equal pay legislation and concluding, “I just can’t vote for Ken Buck”—and after Meet the Press, the ads began to resonate. On November 2, as many conservatives were celebrating, Buck watched a tight race slip away. “Someone like Ken Buck could have won,” Swartout says. “But when he softened his position just a fraction [during the general election] on personhood or backed away from an all-out ban on birth control, the conservatives hit him for it—even though we were past the primary.”

According to Swartout, in a post-mortem debate with Brown about the election, the latter said Buck would have won if he’d stayed true to his conservatism. “I told him, ‘You can’t scare suburban women,’ ” Swartout says. “We lost Arapahoe and Jefferson counties, and it was over.” Brown dismisses this: “I’m sorry, but those people aren’t principled conservatives.”

Although Brown’s practices once helped Marilyn Musgrave, he hasn’t been as charitable toward more moderate Republican female candidates and officeholders. Take B.J. Nikkel, for example: The representative from House District 49 (Larimer County) had already announced she wouldn’t seek re-election in 2012 after her district was redrawn. That spring, she became the first Republican to vote in favor of civil unions. Her tenure at the Capitol was ending, but she was attacked anyway. The Sunday after her yes vote, some Brown allies went to Nikkel’s church to distribute fliers from a group calling itself “Colorado for Family Values,” asking congregants to contact her for being “the deciding vote to force homosexual marriage on Colorado.”

Nikkel’s vote helped propel the legislation to the House floor, where Republican Speaker Frank McNulty chose the nuclear option of putting the House into recess rather than voting on civil unions and about 30 other bills. Months later, Democrats regained the House majority, sweeping every competitive race. In the Senate, Republicans couldn’t gain a single seat.

State Senator Jean White of Hayden, who twice voted yes on civil unions, also faced a Brown-endorsed challenge in the form of pro-gun Randy Baumgardner, a rancher from Hot Sulphur Springs with a country drawl and a thick Fu Manchu mustache. For that campaign, Brown devised a mailer with some conservative allies—including Public Advocate of the United States, a national right-wing organization that the Southern Poverty Law Center has designated as a hate group for its anti-gay activities—that depicted two men kissing in a wintry landscape. The text: “State Senator Jean White’s idea of family values?” The problem was, the photo was taken in New York; Brown had the Brooklyn Bridge Photoshopped out and replaced with snow-dusted pines. The two men and their photographer are now suing Brown and his cohorts for copyright infringement of their engagement photo. Although the suit remains unresolved, Baumgardner won the election. “His tactics are deplorable,” White says. “But the unfortunate thing is, people believe him. He gets away with it.”

Lately, though, state Republicans are beginning to wonder if Brown’s circular firing squad is killing the party by alienating everyone except its most devout conservatives. “We need women voters, and he goes after Jean White,” Nicolais says. “That says it all. If he’d spent that money on [moderate Republican state Senate candidate] Lang Sias, we might not have [Democrat] Evie Hudak.” (Hudak beat Sias by fewer than 600 votes.) Brown told me he might have supported Sias, a former Navy Top Gun pilot, if Sias had completed the RMGO questionnaire about his positions on gun issues. “If you won’t tell us how you’re going to vote and be explicit, we ain’t gonna help,” Brown says. “The people advising him not to fill out a survey have never won a fucking race. None of them have any juice in my book. They claim if you stand in the middle, everything will be fine. The only thing in the middle of the road is a yellow stripe and a dead armadillo.” That’s why Brown prefers candidates like Baumgardner. “Randy’s not going to win any award for being a brain surgeon,” Brown says. “But he’ll vote 100 percent better than Jean White would have.” (In July, Baumgardner announced that he’ll challenge U.S. Senator Mark Udall in 2014.)

Colorado Republicans currently lack a strong outside organization to support their candidates, leaving GOP primaries to play out within the party assembly process, where Brown has an outsized influence. “He’s a bully who belongs in a schoolyard,” Nicolais says. “But he only picks fights he can win.” By backing ideologues and undercutting more moderate Republicans, Brown “has done more damage to the Republican Party than anyone,” White says. “I believe he’s solely responsible for us being in the minority.”

State Senator Greg Brophy, who is perhaps Brown’s closest ally at the Capitol, calls White’s contention “a bunch of crap. We got put in the minority by Colorado Democracy Alliance, by [the GOP meltdown around unlikely gubernatorial nominee] Dan Maes, and by a liberal-controlled redistricting process.” Brophy, who is contemplating his own run for governor in 2014, agrees that Brown has cost Republicans the occasional seat, but he also argues that Brown’s influence on the party has been mostly positive. “I think his work in the Republican Party is done,” Brophy says. “He’s established that all Republicans are going to be Second Amendment advocates. Most of us are, naturally, but we all know: Don’t be wrong on guns. And no Republican will lose an election next year because of that position, which proves he’s right.”

Like many Americans, Brown was angry last December following the school shootings in Newtown, Connecticut. But in his outrage, he found opportunity. “My prayers and those of my staff here at the National Association for Gun Rights go out to the families of the victims,” Brown wrote in an email to his national membership list less than 10 hours after the massacre. “But already, like in so many cases from years past, the gun control lobby is shamelessly using the blood of innocents to advance their anti-gun agenda. Right now, members of the Washington, D.C. gun control lobby are gathered on the street in front of the White House. Their hands are wrapped around the black iron gates surrounding the complex and they’re screaming at the top of their lungs.” The note’s subject line read, “Circling vultures.”

Three months later, seven Democratic gun control measures moved through the Colorado Legislature. When the Senate debated the bills in March, the screaming and honking was coming from Brown’s side, from the couple thousand RMGO members who were summoned via email to descend upon the Capitol. That afternoon, Brown testified before the Senate Judiciary Committee as it considered a ban on magazines of 15 rounds or more. State Senator Jessie Ulibarri, an Adams County Democrat, denied Brown’s assertion that Colorado Democrats were bought off by the White House and New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg’s group, Mayors Against Illegal Guns. When Ulibarri asked Brown if his organizations had donated to any Republican lawmakers weighing the bill, Brown eagerly responded (after GOP committee members’ objections), “Yes, Senator. And we’re going to give money [to] your opponents, too.” Cheers erupted from the RMGO supporters packing the hearing room.

Weeks earlier, during another gun package debate, state Representative Cheri Gerou, an Evergreen Republican, faced a similar threat, even after voting against two of the Democratic bills. She couldn’t understand why so many of her constituents were emailing and calling her, concerned she might support the other Democratic bills, until she realized Brown had been riling them up with postcards and emails. (He calls the tactic “suppression fire.”)
Gerou confronted Brown’s lobbyist, Joe Neville, outside the House chamber. “I said, ‘Stop scaring people, it’s intense enough down here,’ ” she says. “And he just looked at me with a smirk.”
Gerou snapped, “Go fuck yourself.”

“You just earned yourself another round of mailers in your district in the primary before your next election,” Gerou says Neville responded. Gerou had him escorted out of the Capitol and later filed an ethics complaint. The formal investigation into the incident is still pending.
Brown warned all the GOP’s incoming lawmakers at a forum for conservatives. “I told them, ‘Vote for one of these bills, and you’re vulnerable. We will hold you accountable,’ ” he says. “That pisses people off. Well, I don’t care. If I wanted friends, I’d buy a puppy. We want to change the public policy in Colorado.”

Although Gerou might be a strong GOP candidate to challenge Democratic state Senator Jeanne Nicholson in 2014, Brown prefers a more conservative Republican: former state Senator Tim Neville (Joe’s father). Gerou’s angry response, perhaps the first time a lawmaker has challenged Brown so publicly, encapsulated the wider GOP establishment’s increasing concern about Brown’s impact on the party. “It’s all about intimidation with Dudley,” Nicolais says. “He wants people to fear him and his tactics, and that’s dissuaded many credible, moderate Republicans from running for office.”

Even though Brown’s stated goal is to steer gun policies in Colorado toward something more absolutist, his actions may be having the opposite effect; despite Brophy’s protestations, most agree Brown has played a central role in bringing about Democratic majorities large enough to enact the very legislation he’s devoted his whole life to fighting. The gun bills ultimately passed in the Senate because Democrats had the necessary 18 votes (after two defections). Had Brown thrown his weight behind Sias or any other moderate GOP candidates in the 2012 primaries, Republicans might have had a 16- or 17-member minority and, in the case of the gun control bills, the 18 votes needed to defeat them. When Governor Hickenlooper signed the measures, Brown watched the ceremony before reporters surrounded him outside the Capitol. “The Democrats have just handed me a sledgehammer,” he said that day. “And I get to walk through their china shop of the 2014 election.”

Brown’s pledge to turn his guns on the Democratic Party for the first time may be genuine. But will it matter for Republicans in 2014? While Hickenlooper and U.S. Senator Udall are strong incumbents, Republicans could regain the state Senate by netting three seats. Someone like Gerou—a moderate Republican woman, a successful architect, and an expert on the state budget—would be a formidable general election foe for any Democrat, and Brown’s face reddens as I tell him so. “Just because someone stakes a claim on the far left of the Republican Party, every single RINO [Republican In Name Only] goes, ‘She’s a great statewide candidate,’ ” he shouts. “Those idiots! She’s a good candidate because she sucks at everything! This is the Karl Rove attitude. I don’t get it.” He’s already blasted out a Web video of Gerou acknowledging her F-bomb before the ethics committee. He says he has more anti-Gerou attack-mail pieces in mind, clearly itching for a fight with the legislator.

“[Brown] wants us in the minority,” says Nicolais, now a Republican candidate for one of the more competitive state Senate seats in 2014. “For him, it’s mostly about a mailing list.” That’s because whenever he watches a pet issue flame out, Brown knows he’s won: Consider that in the several months it took the gun control bills to go from Democratic proposals to law, the NAGR’s membership numbers exploded. Suddenly, the cash is rolling into Brown’s office faster than his interns can count it, so anyone who concludes he lost because the bills he opposed were passed may simply be looking at the wrong scoreboard.

Two years ago, Brown moved his NAGR offices into a drab old bank on a forsaken stretch of Windsor’s Main Street. When I first visited in July 2012, the ground floor was home to a Risograph machine and scattered reams of paper. Ten months later, the office hums. More than a dozen young staffers stare at their computer screens, recording the names, email addresses, and credit card numbers of people from across the country into the NAGR database. Nearby shelves are stocked with hats, T-shirts, fleeces, and bumper stickers, all emblazoned with the NAGR’s logo—thank-you tchotchkes that are sent to donors.

Few in Washington, D.C., had ever heard of the NAGR until recently, when reports showed that it spent more money lobbying against President Obama’s gun control push than even the NRA. The bank’s old vault is still full of money; now, instead of sorted currency, it’s stuffed with shoulder-high stacks of U.S. Postal Service Flat Rate boxes crammed with petition signatures and financial pledges. Two years ago, the NAGR reported raising $3.76 million. Last year, it was $7 million. Brown told me he expects that number to increase to $15 million to $20 million this year.

He’s already spent almost $3 million in 2013 lobbying against gun control in Congress. The NAGR owes some of its sudden windfall to U.S. Senator Rand Paul of Kentucky, who has lent his name to fund-raising pitches; Brown has also run TV ads outside of Colorado pressuring senators from both parties to defeat the new gun control measures. One spot attacking Maine’s U.S. Senator Susan Collins shows Collins’ face morphing into President Obama’s and accuses her of “team[ing] up with liberal Democrats” on gun control.

Brown pauses when I ask him what kind of salary he earns. “$70,000,” he eventually says, seemingly uncertain. Others familiar with his organizations say they think it’s closer to $300,000 a year, possibly more. Republicans who take issue with Brown say they believe money, more than any political issue, is what truly motivates him. A decade ago, when Brown was attacking Governor Owens over the gun show loophole legislation, Owens’ ally Sean Tonner fought back. He found out about the controlled substance and assault charges and decided to inform NAGR’s membership about Brown’s past. “We’d gotten postcards from people on his mailing list, so I mailed them back directly with a backgrounder on who Dudley was,” Tonner says. “That’s how you hurt him: Hit his pocketbook.”

Not many have chosen to engage Brown, if only because, as Ament says, “No one likes to fight with a skunk.” There are recent indications that investigating his finances could prove fruitful for his opponents: his furtive coordination with groups like Public Advocate; the federal ethics probe into his longtime partner, Guy Short, who is being investigated for allegedly illegally transferring between $40,000 to more than $100,000 from Michele Bachmann’s presidential campaign coffers to his personal account; and the RMGO’s temporary loss of its tax-exempt status in 2011 because Brown didn’t file an informational return for the nonprofit for three years, an oversight he blamed on a computer glitch. Such carelessness and disregard for campaign finance law could haunt him if he starts to pick national fights.

Brown remains undaunted. He’ll be hitting the road in the Pinzgauer, doing “lit drops” against his 2014 targets. “We have way bigger sway over who Republican candidates for office are than [Colorado GOP Chairman] Ryan Call ever can, or anyone else among the RINO crowd,” he says. If that sounds dubious, consider that after the April 2012 state GOP convention, Brown made a point at a delegate selection meeting of forcing votes on elections of officers just to show that he, not Call, had a majority of delegates answering to him. By convincing supporters of Rick Santorum and Ron Paul, as well as unaffiliated conservatives, to join him, Brown and company formed their own de facto majority and prevented longtime standard bearers like Pete Coors and Bob Beauprez from being elected to RNC committees. “He staged a coup,” Call says. “That’s just his typical in-your-face approach, strutting around, gloating. All of it, just to poke the GOP establishment in the eye.”

In 2014, Brown will open the NAGR’s war chest to influence the congressional midterms like never before. He’ll try to leverage backlash against gun control proposals, and he’ll support conservative Republicans in the mold of Baumgardner and Todd Akin, whose “legitimate rape” comments cost Republicans a winnable Senate seat in Missouri last year.

In Georgia, where several Republicans are vying to replace the retiring U.S. Senator Saxby Chambliss, Brown has endorsed the Tea Party candidate, Congressman Paul Broun, a doctor and evangelical Christian—who’s been married four times. Last year, the would-be senator called evolution a lie “straight from the pit of hell” and likened Obamacare to the Civil War, dismissing both as acts of “Yankee aggression.”

But back in Colorado, signs are emerging that Brown’s influence is waning. After he backed Jaxine Bubis, one of two Republicans who hoped to make the ballot in Senate President John Morse’s recall election, party insiders quickly delved into opposition research—the kind usually reserved for Democrats but this time directed at Brown’s candidate. In July, they leaked to the Denver Post that Bubis had authored an erotic romance novel, Beantown Heat (eXtasy Books, 2004), under the name Jaxine Daniels. The only writing of  hers that concerned Brown was her signature on RMGO’s Second Amendment survey; when she inked it, his endorsement was hers. Even so, El Paso County Republicans ultimately chose former Colorado Springs Councilman Bernie Herpin for the slot. “It shows [Brown’s] true colors,” says a longtime official for the Colorado GOP. “He doesn’t give a shit about the party; if he did, he’d never run that kind of a candidate.”

Another state Senate race—one that’s critical to the GOP’s chances of regaining a majority in 2014—will feature Mario Nicolais, one of Brown’s harshest critics and a strong advocate for civil unions, who will be seeking the Republican nomination. He’s fully aware it’ll mean a fight with Brown, who has his own plans to influence that race, too. These recent developments suggest Colorado Republicans may finally be ready to go to war against Dudley Brown. After two decades of seeing him run roughshod over the state party, they’ve got nothing else to lose. “You can’t let a few bullies continue to hurt the party,” says Call, the Colorado GOP chair. “At some point, you have to fight back.”

Built

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Issue reference: 
Intro: 

Seven Colorado athletes who push their bodies to extremes.

Deck: 

Meet seven Colorado athletes whose superhuman training programs and otherworldly self-control over their diets allow them to push their bodies to extremes—all for a shot at being the very best.

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In Defense of Big Dreams

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Intro: 

Colorado native Mitch Unrein finally got the chance to be a Bronco.

Deck: 

Colorado native Mitch Unrein finally got the chance to be a Bronco—now all he has to do is keep the job.

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You know the type: They’re the “big uglies,” the human tanks, the kind of men who can carry three bills but make it look like two and a quarter. Guys with bear-paw hands and square heads and arms the size of grown men’s thighs. On any given Sunday, the indentations of their belly buttons show through jerseys that look as if they’re two sizes too small. These are men whose names you don’t know but whose physiques give them away. They are linemen. Offensive, defensive—it doesn’t matter. They’re the muscle, the labor, the ignored-by-fans-but-loved-by-coaches supersized humans who don’t get their jockstraps in a twist about the fact that glory rarely comes to those who do not play a skill position.

It would be easy to think physical makeup—genetics that engineer outrageous height, weight, speed, and strength—is the most critical factor in determining who will play the line in the National Football League. And maybe it is. A guy might be the most intuitive defensive tackle who ever stood the line of scrimmage, but if he’s not 6-foot-5 and 310 pounds and can’t run a 4.8 in the 40, he’s not NFL material. So, yeah, DNA matters.

But there’s something else. Lost in the mix of haughty wideouts sporting gold grillz and pretty-boy quarterbacks with supermodel girlfriends is the honest-to-goodness truth that playing in the NFL is a job. A go-to-meetings, show-up-on-time, study-the-playbook, understand-the-competition job. Players who don’t treat it that way, who rely on their prototypical NFL builds or freak-of-nature athletic talents, aren’t going to be employed for very long.

In short, work ethic is nearly as important as genetics. At least, that’s what Mitch Unrein says as he looks out over Grasmere Lake in Washington Park. His 6-foot-4-inch, 305-pound frame makes the green bench he’s sitting on look as if it had been made for a child. His sheer size would be intimidating if the 26-year-old, third-year defensive tackle for the Denver Broncos weren’t so soft-spoken, if he didn’t laugh so easily, if his hazel eyes didn’t give away his earnestness. His pale skin begins to turn pink under the piercing sun, but he hasn’t noticed. He’s too busy talking: about college ball and the pro game. About his hometown of Eaton. About being a second-generation Coloradan. About the industrious parents who taught him the importance of hard work. Football players are notoriously ineloquent, but Unrein has an easy cadence. In 30 minutes, not one sports cliché has slipped past his lips.

What he does disclose is refreshingly candid: “I guess I’m what they call a lunch-pail guy,” he says with a shrug. “I’m tough and competitive, but mostly I show up to work, I work hard, I’m consistent, and I get it done without too much complaint.” He says this in a tone that suggests he’s simultaneously proud of and frustrated by the blue-collar moniker.

By all accounts, Unrein had a solid sophomore season in 2012 with two starts, 20 tackles, and at least two highlight-reel-worthy plays. But playing behind Justin Bannan and Kevin Vickerson, two of the better defensive tackles in the league, Unrein only saw 280 snaps (most NFL teams average 60 to 65 offensive plays a game). It was enough to show great potential but may have been insufficient to earn him a starting job in 2013. Not that he’s complaining. Unrein is incredibly self-aware: He knows he’s of average athletic talent compared to other NFL players, he’s a bit undersized, and there are few people he could beat in a footrace. He has to put in more hours at the gym than the next guy—maybe even more than newly drafted rookie tackle Sylvester Williams—and, even then, he still may not be first on the depth chart. Unrein is used to that, at ease with being disregarded and underestimated. It’s happened time and again—and not just in the league. Until now, he’s been OK with it because, well, it’s always worked out for him in the end. But with a one-year, $555,000 contract with the Broncos set to expire at the end of this season, Unrein would be being dishonest if he said he didn’t want to give the organization he rooted for as a child every reason to keep him.

Life is different growing up in a house only accessible by dirt road. Long stretches of mud-caked gravel denote a degree of isolation, of self-sufficiency, of a lack of need for creature comforts. Dirt roads separate those who don’t mind being able to see into their neighbor’s kitchen window from those who feel claustrophobic without acres of rolling farmland for a backyard. Mike and Kay Unrein fall into the latter group.

The modest red brick ranch house hugs one corner of three acres of undulating land the Unreins purchased in 1990, when they escaped the too-crowded neighborhood where they had lived in downtown Eaton, population 4,467. Their fondness for wide-open spaces comes honestly. Mike was born and raised by a construction worker dad and a homemaker mom in the Eastern Plains town of Sterling. He had seven siblings. Kay was born in Burlington and reared in Stratton, 150 miles east of Denver. She also was one of eight kids.

So it’s hardly surprising that after meeting in a bar in Sterling and marrying five years later, in 1977, the Unreins remained on the Plains (first in Sterling and then in Eaton) and had six kids: Nicole, Natalie, Michael, Marty, Mark, and finally Mitch, the baby of the family, who as a youngster liked to dress up as either John Elway or a cowboy every day and was somehow saddled with the nickname Pig. “I really don’t remember how it started,” Mark says. “I just know we kept calling him Pig mostly because he hated it so much.”

That’s the way the Unrein house was. No one got a free pass on anything. Don’t like your nickname? Too bad. Got roughed up playing football in the front yard? Shake it off. Not thrilled about having to slaughter a chicken? Suck it up. It wasn’t an unloving home—quite the opposite—and the Unrein kids never wanted for much, but there was precious little coddling. And that was by design. Mike and Kay wanted their kids to be self-reliant, to understand no one owed them anything, and to know they shouldn’t depend on anyone but themselves. Above all, their kids would know the meaning of hard work.

Mike and Kay didn’t just preach; they taught by example. Right out of high school, Mike went to work roughnecking on oil rigs in Colorado, Nebraska, and Wyoming, working nearly every week, often for six or seven days straight. He would labor 24 hours a day, sometimes in 50-below temps. Even when the kids were young, the schedule remained the same. Mike didn’t have a choice: The money was good. He had to go where the work was.

That meant Kay took care of the kids by herself much of the time. It was a job no less grueling than being on the rig, but Kay—who was gentle and kind but could still drop the hammer on her ornery boys if necessary—didn’t mind the responsibility. She handled the laundry, the cooking, the shopping, trips to the doctor, visits to the dentist, haircuts, school plays, homework, PTA meetings, birthday parties, sleepovers, boyfriends, girlfriends, and, especially, sports practices. Mike and Kay never pushed athletics on their kids; in fact, they were never allowed to play on expensive and time-consuming traveling or club teams, although they could have. The Unrein kids were all gifted—and extremely competitive—athletes. The girls were swimmers. The boys were wrestlers and football players. None of them would have admitted it back then—Mark will only begrudgingly acknowledge it now—but as Mitch progressed through high school, it became obvious to everyone that he was not only the most adept competitor in his family, but he was also one of the most capable athletes among his peers.

Capable, yes…but impressive? The football coaches at University of Colorado Boulder and Colorado State University, where Mitch had dreamed of playing on a scholarship, weren’t convinced. Perhaps they were unenthused by his play at linebacker, or maybe they thought he was too small at 215 pounds. More likely they simply overlooked him because he played for a tiny rural high school. Whatever the reason, the youngest Unrein got his first unsavory taste of being unwanted as a high school senior when the state’s two big-time programs failed to offer him a place to play. It was disheartening not just because Mitch loved the game of football, but also because, like his sisters and brothers before him, Mitch was responsible for putting himself through college. A scholarship would’ve meant carrying a significantly lighter debt load after graduating with a criminal justice degree.

Mitch’s sister had swam and two of his brothers had played football at the University of Northern Colorado on small scholarships. Mitch could have followed suit; coaches at UNC were begging him to play there. But he felt he owed it to himself to at least try to play at a Division I school. When the University of Wyoming nudged him to accept preferred walk-on status, a designation that meant he’d play but wouldn’t receive any financial aid, he took it. Just weeks after arriving in Laramie to play for head coach Joe Glenn, the program realized what it had in Unrein and promised to scrounge up scholarship money for the Colorado kid’s red-shirt freshman season.

Unrein played brilliantly—mostly at defensive end—for a subpar Wyoming program that went 22-27 during his tenure. As his father Mike says: “Mitch became very familiar with the agony of defeat—and it wore on him a bit.” His senior year, however, was less of a downer. Although Unrein’s tackles total was significantly lower than in his junior and sophomore seasons—probably because of a nagging injury Unrein didn’t disclose to anyone but his defensive line coach—the Cowboys earned a trip to the New Mexico Bowl, where Unrein was named defensive MVP in a 35-28 double-overtime win. It was an unexpected exclamation point on a college career that wasn’t often flashy or victorious, but that was successful enough to make Unrein believe he might have a shot at playing on Sundays.

Of course, less than two percent of NCAA football players go on to the NFL. For a guy who was underrecruited out of high school and played defensive line in a midmajor college conference, the percentages were probably even worse. But people were talking about him. There was chatter around the sports agent water cooler that there was a sleeper in Wyoming—a kid who loved the game, who could flip the switch on game day, who was a relentless worker, and who had a remarkable capacity for enduring pain.

Unrein didn’t talk with his family much about his aspirations to play pro ball, but he discussed them at length with his Wyoming teammate and roommate Danny Dutmer, a one-time NFL hopeful himself. “Mitch was a humble guy,” Dutmer says, “but he wanted it. I knew he wouldn’t just give it up.” Unrein did want it—but he also knew what he didn’t want: to end up in the oil business like all three of his brothers had after college. And he really didn’t want to end up busting his ass on an oil rig—a job his then 60-year-old father couldn’t seem to shake. “Mitch came with me out to the rig one year over his spring break,” Mike Unrein says, chuckling at the memory. “I remember him saying he needed to practice harder so that he wouldn’t have to roughneck.”

Working a rig became a more realistic possibility, however, when Unrein went unselected in the 2010 NFL draft. Although he had interviewed with teams such as the New York Giants and the Chicago Bears leading up to the draft and taken dozens of calls from seemingly interested organizations during the latter rounds, Unrein found himself a rookie free agent on April 25, 2010. Unrein’s agent, Sunwest Sports’ Frank Bauer, told his young client not to worry, that being a free agent was not a catastrophe. Big names like John Randle, Kurt Warner, Arian Foster, Tony Siragusa, James Harrison, Tony Romo, Victor Cruz—all those guys were at one time undrafted rooks. Days later, it looked like Bauer had been right. On May 7, Unrein became a Houston Texan with a $7,500 signing bonus. But the contract was short-lived: Unrein didn’t make the 53-man roster or the eight-man practice squad. By mid-August, he was living back at his parents’ house in Eaton.

Mike and Kay say they would’ve given him a week or two to lie on the coach and wallow, but within days their 23-year-old son had gotten a job—cleaning residential sewer lines—that would pay the bills but still allow him enough time for training, which his agent told him was critically important. Unrein also began assisting his old high school football coach, Kevin Ross, with Eaton’s 2010 squad. It was a productive and feel-good way to pass the time until Bauer could find an NFL team that needed a practice-squad guy, something the agent was certain would happen at some point that fall. Unrein was less confident: He had begun to entertain the idea that the dream was over. He was disappointed but pragmatic. Football was the career he had always wanted, but he knew he could find another line of work.

On the morning of October 19, 2010, Unrein was getting ready to hit the gym when his cell phone rang. He missed the call. When he had time to listen to the message a few minutes later, he realized how critical the call had been. The message was from Bauer: The Denver Broncos wanted Unrein in the Mile High City for a physical in just under two hours. He packed an overnight bag, called his sister, Natalie, who was living in Denver at the time, and pointed his old Pontiac Grand Prix south on I-25. Less than 24 hours later, Unrein had gone from cleaning sewers and volunteer coaching high school kids to being a practice-squad signee, donning number 96, and lining up against guys like Kyle Orton, Tim Tebow, Knowshon Moreno, Chris Kuper, J.D. Walton, and Zane Beadles at Dove Valley. The kid who grew up in Colorado and pretended to be ol’ No. 7 had lived up to his own expectations. He was a Denver Bronco.

If you’ve ever seen the movie Rudy, you have an idea of what it’s like to be on a football practice squad. You also probably know that, unlike the Hollywood version, it’s a punishing existence that rarely, if ever, ends with a Rudy Ruettiger–style, carry-him-off-the field celebration. For Mitch Unrein, however, it was the chance he’d coveted. In the second half of the Broncos’ 2010 campaign, Unrein played the line, endured brutal hits, and got back up in the name of getting Kyle Orton and the rest of the active roster guys ready for opposing defenses. Practice squad players go to every organized team activity (OTA), watch all of the film, run all of the special teams reps, and participate in all of the lifting sessions, but their pay is considerably lower (in 2010, the minimum pay was $5,200 per week), they don’t accrue credited seasons that count toward retirement, and they aren’t allowed to play in games. Still, there are upsides: As a rookie, time on the practice squad allowed Unrein to learn the defensive tackle position, fine-tune his technique, and begin catching up with the accelerated speed of the pro game.

Practice squad players don’t experience the pressure of Sundays—but they deal with a different kind of stress. These men are playing to win a livelihood. Their sole goal is to make the following year’s 53-man active roster, and they know they’re being evaluated every day. The game of football takes an obvious physical toll, but the uncertainty of the career path can exact an emotional toll that’s equally taxing. Fortunately for Unrein, the improvement and consistency he displayed as a practice squad signee and during OTAs and summer camp before the 2011 season compelled head coach John Fox and company to put him on the active roster for a team that would ultimately go into the second round of the playoffs with Tim Tebow under center.

Unrein played in 14 games and made eight tackles during the 2011 season, but he rarely saw more than 10 plays per game. Still, he was improving. And after having experienced the sensation of running out of the tunnel at Sports Authority Field at Mile High dressed in home orange, Unrein was determined to increase his on-field presence. So when the defensive staff asked Unrein to put on 15 pounds of lean mass in the offseason, he did exactly that.

The added bulk worked. Going into the 2012 season, his second full year on the active roster, Unrein felt stronger and more capable—and it showed. Defensive line coach Jay Rodgers regularly rotated him in on the defensive line in the first weeks of the season. And other coaches—offensive coaches—began to take notice of Unrein’s abilities as well.

It started out simply enough: The O-line coaches wanted number 96 to line up for an extra push on goal-line plays. Maybe give Peyton Manning some extra space and help Willis McGahee find the end zone. Plus, coach Rodgers, who says he’s pretty sure Unrein would go in at wide receiver if someone asked him to, didn’t mind his tackle playing both ways. He knew it was important to Unrein to contribute to the team—and that’s difficult for any coach to refuse. But then tight ends coach Clancy Barone asked a question the young defensive tackle wasn’t expecting: “Can you catch, kid?”

“I just said, ‘Yes,’ ” Unrein says. “But, really, I had no idea if I could catch.” His hands didn’t fail him when the team rehearsed what became known as the Cowboy Package, in which Unrein lined up as a fullback and slipped through the unsuspecting defense to catch a short-yardage pass. “I made sure to catch everything Peyton threw at me in practice,” he says. “Then I’d take more throws from Brock Osweiler and Caleb Hanie after that.”

It was never really clear to Unrein whether head coach John Fox would call the play in an actual game—until there was 8:56 left in the first quarter of the December 2, 2012, contest against the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. “They called the play,” Unrein says, “and I just kinda looked around like, Really? The one where I go out and catch the ball?” No one had time to answer his quizzical look. Unrein says the play happened so quickly he didn’t have time to get nervous before the ball was snapped.

The Fox Sports announcers immediately noticed Unrein had lined up as “an extra lineman for blocking” for first and goal from the one-yard line. The Bucs’ defensive end and linebacker also clearly thought Unrein had been brought in as a fullback to block for a running play. The two defenders bit hard on the run, allowing the 305-pound fullback to bounce off the DE, rumble out to the left, and find the front corner of the end zone at Sports Authority Field. An uncharacteristic duck of a spiral from quarterback Peyton Manning hit Unrein in the hands, and after taking four or five baby steps to make sure he was inbounds, the kid from Eaton spiked the ball. Joel Dreessen, Zane Beadles, Ryan Clady, and Virgil Green joined Unrein in the end zone as did Manning, who gave the second-year player a high five and a helmet bump before handing him the ball and telling him “nice job.”

In a moment that big men everywhere celebrated—and envied—Unrein captured a bit of the glory that so often escapes the hard-working boys in the trenches: He became the first defensive lineman in the history of the Denver Broncos to catch a touchdown pass. “I kinda wish I’d done a little dance,” Unrein says, laughing at the thought of it. “I was so excited I didn’t know what to do. It’s probably just good I didn’t embarrass myself.”

The AFC divisional playoff game on January 12, 2013, hadn’t gone exactly to plan. Despite the fact that more than 76,000 fans had withstood temperatures cold enough to freeze a beer, and despite the fact that late in the fourth quarter Denver appeared ready to send Ray Lewis into retirement, the Broncos let the fairy-tale season slip away. The air in the blue-and-orange-clad locker room after the final seconds ticked away in the 38-35 double-overtime loss was heavy with tension. The muted sounds of men showering and dressing, mostly without talking, were punctuated by sporadic outbursts of anger. Unrein was heartbroken by the loss—not because he had played poorly (he hadn’t) or because he didn’t know what it was like to lose (he certainly did), but because he had never before been part of a team with such chemistry and talent. He had truly believed they were going to the Super Bowl. When he finished dressing, he walked out into the hallway in the belly of the stadium. His sister and brother were there waiting for him, ready to console him with a hug—and a trip to La Loma, a Mexican restaurant near Sports Authority Field Unrein likes to visit after games.

Before they left the stadium area though, they made a stop at the family tailgate. Most players don’t visit the parking lot on Sundays, but Unrein makes his way there before and after most home games. Why? Because at every game held in Denver, including those played in subzero weather, number 96 has a huge contingent of tailgaters. With seven aunts and uncles from both sides of his family—and all of their spouses and kids and their kids’ kids—as well as his five siblings and their families, the parking lot cookout is a well-attended affair. In fact, Unrein has so much family in Colorado—he estimates the number could be in the hundreds stretching from Brighton to the Kansas line—that his jersey is one of the few, if not the only, nonstarters’ jerseys being sold in the Broncos team store at Sports Authority Field.

Although his jersey hangs next to Peyton Manning’s, he shares the field with Pro Bowl defenders like Champ Bailey and Von Miller, and Broncos defensive line coach Jay Rodgers says he would trust Unrein’s play in any situation, Unrein is mostly still in awe of his position. He sometimes can’t help but smile when John Elway sits down with him to have breakfast at Dove Valley and asks about Unrein’s girlfriend of more than two years, Corey Cogdell, an Olympic bronze medal–winning trapshooter who trains in Colorado Springs. Unrein has to pinch himself when he looks at the Tampa Bay game ball, signed by Manning, which sits atop his trophy case in the condo he rents in Englewood.

That’s probably because Unrein still just thinks of himself as a guy from Eaton. He still has dinner with his old high school football coach Kevin Ross. He likes to play golf but says he isn’t very good so he usually just plays at a little par 3 near his condo. He took his first-ever extended vacation during this past off-season, but he doesn’t like missing too many days of training. He sends gently used cleats and gloves from his teammates to Eaton High School’s football team, and last year he secured some old gym equipment the Broncos were going to donate for the school’s weight room. He does signings and appearances and shows up on a few local billboards for the Weld County Garage, a dealership in Greeley that gave him a new GMC pickup to drive in return—otherwise, Unrein says, he’d just be driving the old Pontiac he got right before leaving for college.
The humility Unrein projects is just who he was raised to be: an easygoing kid from a blue-collar family who never took anything for granted. But it would be a mistake to think Unrein doesn’t aspire to break free of that anonymous lunch-pail-player label someday. Not to change his workmanlike ways or to be someone he wasn’t taught to be, but to see that work pay off with a multiyear contract.

With the first of four preseason games on August 8 and 16 regular season games stretching out ahead of him, Unrein wants to live up to the team’s expectations. He knows he’ll need to produce in a big way—with consistency on the run, proficiency against the pass, and 30 or so tackles with a sack or two—to do that. If he doesn’t, Unrein understands his days with Denver—who would have to sign him to a multiyear contract or pay him more than $2 million for one year as a fourth-year player—could be numbered. Unrein says he would rather be here in Denver, live near his family, and play as a Bronco forever. It would hurt, he says, if that couldn’t happen. But if his contract runs out and Denver can’t keep him, Unrein will simply go where the work is. “It may not be in Denver,” he says. “But if I can make a living in this job—if you can even call it a job—I’ll go wherever I need to go to do that.”

Moveable Feasts: Foodie Road Trips 2013

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One empty stomach. One full tank of gas. Eight restaurants worth the drive.

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One empty stomach. One full tank of gas. Eight restaurants worth the drive. plus: 24 other reasons to take your appetite on the road.

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STEAMBOAT SPRINGS

ROUND-TRIP FROM DENVER: 312 MILES
Laundry
127 11th St., Steamboat Springs 970-870-0681,
thelaundryrestaurant.com
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Sandals and stilettos find equal acceptance at this temple of elevated comfort food housed in a 103-year-old brick building—the original Steamboat Laundry Dry Cleaning & Pressing, according to faded lettering on the restaurant’s exterior. “This is a place where you can come in jeans and a T-shirt or you can get dressed up, but you’ll feel comfortable either way,” says owner Rex Brice, who opened Laundry, his sixth Steamboat restaurant, in 2012 on the northeast side of town. The affordable menu (items rarely top $20) is as wide-ranging as the dress code, and it changes with the seasons. Regulars watch as winter’s roasted beets give way to fresh greens with grilled apples come spring, and a Southern-inspired shrimp entree replaces the rich ricotta agnolotti tossed in a heavenly mixture of kale, sage, and brown butter. One dish we wish remained year-round: the Brussels sprouts hash, a lively blend of the roasted veggie, crisp onions, bacon bits, and creamy goat cheese that will leave you satisfied, refueled, and ready to lace up your hiking boots. —Daliah Singer

Sit: At the bar. The restaurant reserves the entire area for walk-ins, and the bartenders know the menu as well as the servers.
Eat: Crispy smoked pork belly with arugula, watermelon, red onion, and mint
Know: The bricks you’re surrounded by are the originals used to build the Steamboat Laundry, which occupied the space until 1977.

WHILE YOU’RE THERE
Stay Located right on the main strip of Lincoln Avenue, Hotel Bristol harks back to its 1948 heritage with Pendleton blankets, rotary telephones, and impeccable service. Hotel Bristol, 917 Lincoln Ave., Steamboat Springs; 1-800-851-0872, steamboathotelbristol.com
Watch The rodeo is a regular visitor to Steamboat each summer. Pop open a can of beer and settle into the bleachers for steer wrestling and bull riding every Friday and Saturday through August 17.
Ride Rent an inner tube and hop into the Yampa River, the only free-flowing river (not obstructed by dams or diversions) in the state. Just be ready for some bumpy (Class II and III) rapids as you drift through town.

 

 

VAIL

ROUND-TRIP FROM DENVER: 194 MILES
Mountain Standard
193 Gore Creek Drive, Vail
970-476-0123, mtnstandard.com
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Chef Paul Anders takes campfire cooking to a whole other plane at eight-month-old Mountain Standard, the satellite tavern of Kevin Clair and Matt Morgan’s Sweet Basil, a beloved Vail institution. There is no oven here; Anders cooks everything over an open fire. Olives roast in the coals, flames lick the skins of rotisserie chickens, and porchetta arrives slow-cooked, smoky, tender, and swoon-worthy. This is seriously refined campfire cuisine, buoyed by more than 36 years of restaurant experience (Clair opened Sweet Basil in 1977): Servers respond quickly and adeptly to requests, water glasses stay full, and the wine pairings never miss. Warmed by Anders’ blaze, the snug tables and booths, and a glass of crisp Grüner Veltliner, you can’t help but feel at home. —AMF

Sit: If you want to get cozy, request one of the booths facing the kitchen. If you want to celebrate being in Vail, ask for a table on the patio overlooking the banks of Gore Creek.
Eat: Shrimp and grits with Creole butter, piquillo peppers, and pancetta
Sip: Even Mountain Standard’s Bloody Mary gets fired: The charred tomato base—which mixes well with Ketel One vodka—adds a smooth, delicate note of smoke.

WHILE YOU’RE THERE
Stay While we love the heated stone tile floors in Vail Mountain Lodge’s 27 rooms, the spa—quite possibly the best in the state—is the real draw.
After your salt glow, spend extra time in the Solarium, a blissed-out, glassed-in room overlooking stands of swaying pines and Gore Creek.
Vail Mountain Lodge, 352 E. Meadow Drive, Vail; 1-888-794-0410, vailmountainlodge.com
Ride Bring your road bike and work off the calories by pedaling 8.7 miles up to the top of Vail Pass. Or double down and cruise over to Copper Mountain before turning around and hustling back up and over the 10,603-foot summit.
Catch Summer anglers can take advantage of Gore Creek Fly Fisherman’s free fly-casting clinics every day at 10:30 a.m. Gore Creek Fly Fisherman, 675 Lionshead Place, Vail; 970-476-5042, gorecreekflyfisherman.com

 

 

TELLURIDE

ROUND-TRIP FROM DENVER: 724 MILES
Cosmopolitan Restaurant
300 W. San Juan Ave.,
Telluride; 970-728-1292,
cosmotelluride.com
__________
To get one of the best meals in Colorado, you have to travel to one of the state’s farthest corners. But one taste of chef Chad Scothorn’s food will quickly erase the memory of those highway miles. Scothorn’s globe-trotting menu features surprising dishes like creative sushi rolls, Colorado lamb chops, and whimsical, decadent lobster corn dogs, all delivered by a team of genial servers. And with a wine list ticking past 200 options, Cosmo guarantees the perfect accompaniment to any dish—including the wild blueberry pie with sour cream ice cream, a dessert so plate-scrapingly delicious you’ll (almost) be glad it’s too far away to order every night. —Luc Hatlestad 

Eat: The surf and turf and crab-stuffed chicken breast entrées
Sit: Cosmo lives just across the street from
Telluride’s gondola, so grab a window seat for great people-watching in summer or winter.
Know: The restaurant is on the ground floor of Telluride’s Hotel Columbia, so dubbed in honor of the town’s original name. Gold Rush–era officials changed the town’s name from Columbia to Telluride to avoid confusing postal service workers delivering mail to Columbia, California.

WHILE YOU'RE THERE
Stay There are really two Tellurides: the old, historic town and the newer, glossier Mountain Village. We suggest checking in at the New Sheridan Hotel, located on the town’s historic main drag, for a more authentic Western experience. New Sheridan Hotel, 231 W. Colorado Ave., Telluride; 1-800-200-1891, newsheridan.com
Shop & Sip Browse through Two Skirts, and you might forget you’re in a secluded mountain hamlet. The high-end boutique stocks statement-worthy lines such as Herno and Yoaa Baraschi. Refresh with a post-shopping margarita at La Cocina de Luz. Two Skirts, 127 W. Colorado Ave., Telluride; 970-728-6828, twoskirts.net; La Cocina de Luz, 123 E. Colorado Ave., Telluride; 970-728-9355, lacocinatelluride.com
Listen Catch  the 37th annual Telluride Jazz Festival (August 2 to 4) with the Motet, the Stanley Clarke Band, and Galactic. Telluride Jazz Festival, telluridejazz.org

 

 

LONGMONT

ROUND-TRIP FROM DENVER: 77.5 MILES
Georgia Boys BBQ
237 Collyer St., Longmont
720-999-4099,
georgiaboysbbqcompany.com
__________
What lobster roll stands are to the Northeast, barbecue shacks are to the South (and now Colorado): Homey, unexpected spots where locals go for an unfussy taste of the region. Nestled alongside a Longmont mechanic’s shop and within earshot of the train tracks, a small yellow house with eight picnic tables out front and two rocking chairs on the porch (of course) holds what may well be the best barbecue in the West. Opened in July 2011 by Nickolas Reckinger and Matt Alexander—fraternity brothers from, yes, Georgia—the joint leans on family recipes. Beginning at 6 a.m. each morning, the 500- and 1,000-pound hickory smokers emit an aroma not often found this side of the Mississippi: the siren scent of pulled pork, pulled chicken, and beef brisket so expertly smoked that the Georgia Boys’ five delicious homemade sauces seem superfluous. Try them anyway, and leave room for the roster of other expertly crafted Southern staples. —Lindsey B. Koehler

Sit: Barbecue is made for outdoor dining, which is just as well because Georgia Boys has only two indoor tables.
Eat: The brisket burnt ends with collards ’n’ mustard and Good Ol’ BBQ Beans
Drink: Home-brewed sweet tea

WHILE YOU'RE THERE
Shop Nothing in Denver rivals Longmont’s Cheese Importers—a bistro-kitchenware-cheese combination shop—for a delightful and unexpected shopping experience. Cheese Importers,
103 Main St., Longmont; 303-772-9599, cheeseimporters.com
Grow Turn green-thumb aspirations into reality at the massive yet easy-to-navigate Flower Bin Garden Center, home to everything from a greenhouse full of roses to a selection of hanging flowerpots that has no equal in the metro area. The Flower Bin Garden Center, 1805 Nelson Road, Longmont; 303-772-3454, theflowerbin.net

 

 

CRESTED BUTTE

ROUND-TRIP FROM DENVER: 456 MILES
The Secret Stash Pizzeria and Groove Emporium
303 Elk Ave., Crested Butte 970-349-6245, stashpizza.com
__________
Finding a greasy, carb-loaded, cheese-worshipping pizza place in a mountain town is the easy part. Quality pie, though—that’s difficult to come by. Unless you happen to wander into the Secret Stash Pizzeria and Groove Emporium on Crested Butte’s Elk Avenue. Here, the menu is as eclectic as the decor. Ignore the Buddha statues and tiki souvenirs, and dive into bizarre, divine pies such as the New Potato Caboose, a cheeky take on a baked potato (tubers, bacon, green onions, cheddar, and sour cream), or the Mac Daddy, a sesame-seed crust topped with Thousand Island dressing, rib-eye steak, onions, cheddar and mozzarella cheeses, lettuce, and pickles. Too weird? Trust us, you should give it a try. Your taste buds have traveled too far for mere pepperoni. —Natasha Gardner

Sit: Soak up the mountain air on the busy patio.
Eat: The Notorious F.I.G., which is dotted with figs, blue cheese, and prosciutto
Know: Like many of Crested Butte’s buildings, the structure has a long history. Built in 1938, the space once housed the town’s general store.

WHILE YOU'RE THERE
Stay Never mind the slopeside access or the balconies with stunning views at the Elevation Hotel & Spa; it’s the luxurious spa that keeps us coming back. Try the 25-minute Mini Escape Massage for a quick hit of “me time” and plan for an extra-long shower: The “rainfall” showerheads are downright dreamy. Elevation Hotel & Spa, 500 Gothic Road, Crested Butte; 1-800-600-2803, elevationhotelandspa.com
Sip The Caribbean might be rum’s home turf, but after sipping a Habanero Mango Martini (rum, mango, agave, lime, and habanero slices) at the Montanya Distillers tasting room, you’ll begin to associate the tropical booze with a different altitude. Montanya Distillers, 130 Elk Ave., Crested Butte; 970-799-3206, montanyarum.com
Hike The two-mile trek to the Judd Falls overlook is family friendly (read: it’s a jeep road). This means fewer blisters and fewer “Are we there yet?” queries. You’ll hear the falls before you see them. As you get close, keep an eye out for the perfectly perched bench—you’ll know it when you see it. Be careful as you take in the two cascading waterfalls; the drop-off is steep. The Judd Falls trailhead is about five miles north of Mt. Crested Butte on Gothic Road.

 

 

ASPEN

ROUND-TRIP FROM DENVER: 318 MILES
Element 47
675 E. Durant Ave., Aspen; 970-920-6330, elevation47aspen.com
__________
From the blackened steel, dark wood, and plush leather decor to the exquisite citrus-cured fluke with blood orange and Castelvetrano olives, Element 47 gleams. And suitably so. Unveiled by the Little Nell Hotel last December, the restaurant was named for silver (the precious metal is 47 on the periodic table), an allusion to Aspen’s mining town roots. But executive chef Robert McCormick’s contemporary dishes hardly recall the cuisine of 1891. Dishes such as the delicate
Anjou pear tortellini with pickled chanterelles illustrate a sophisticated touch, and an extensive wine list (compiled by the three master sommeliers on staff) is an elegant, if French-heavy, representation of the best of the world’s vines. It may sound fussy, but there’s an inherent approachability that permeates every aspect of Element 47. —AMF

Sit: Find a table on the sun-drenched patio or inside near the windows and glimpse
Aspen Mountain’s slopes.
Eat: Emma Farm Wagyu beef steak with tortellini, morel mushrooms, spring onions, and bone marrow
Know: The dessert options are mouthwatering (Dark chocolate praline mousse! Doughnut holes with lemon curd!), but no one will question you if you order the make-your-own sundae (choose from M&M’s, hot fudge, chopped peanuts, whipped cream, and three kinds of house-made ice cream) from the children’s menu.

WHILE YOU'RE THERE
Stay An Aspen mainstay for more than 120 years, the Hotel Jerome is a piece of living history—but recent renovations mean you’re also steeped in luxury (think oversize marble bathrooms and plasma TVs). After an active day, retreat to the cozy Living Room Bar for cocktails and a snack (we suggest the ciabatta toast with a mini Mason jar of goat’s milk cheddar pimento spread). Hotel Jerome, 330 E. Main St., Aspen; 970-920-1000, hoteljerome.aubergeresorts.com
Listen Every summer since 1949, the Aspen Music Festival has gathered the world’s best classical musicians. And you don’t even need a ticket to enjoy them. Just bring a blanket and a picnic and perch on the lawn outside the music tent (located at 980 N. Third St.). Although you won’t see the musicians play, you’ll hear the glorious sounds of chamber music under a canopy of rustling aspen trees. The festival runs through August 18 with concerts scheduled daily.
Aspen Music Festival, aspenmusicfestival.com
See The stunning Maroon Bells just outside of Aspen get a lot of attention—and crowds. Avoid the hordes with a trip up Castle Creek Road instead (the valley is just one drainage over), where meadows, stands of aspens, empty hillsides, and the impressive snow-capped Hayden Peak await for your Instagram-ing pleasure.

 

GLENWOOD SPRINGS

ROUND-TRIP FROM DENVER: 314 MILES
The Pullman
330 Seventh St., Glenwood Springs; 970-230-9234, thepullmangws.com
__________
The Pullman chef-owner Mark Fischer hasn’t let being named one of Esquire’s 2011 Best New Restaurants affect his vision: “We want to keep this restaurant approachable,” says the mastermind behind Glenwood Springs’ most popular eatery. “But we don’t want to compromise our approach to cooking.” Mission accomplished. The burnished, dressed-down spot might look like a tavern, but what comes out of the kitchen is white-tablecloth worthy: roasted bone marrow with red onion jam, slow-roasted curried lamb shoulder, vegetable cianfotta (an elegant Southern Italian stew), and crispy, truffled pork rinds. If the Pullman’s waitlist is too long, head 13 miles down the road to Town, the farmers’ market–inspired restaurant Fischer just opened in Carbondale. —Lindsey R. McKissick

Sit: The front window puts you in prime position to ogle the small-town goings-on.
Eat: The pierogi with truffle potatoes, caramelized onions, and scallion crème fraîche (a menu staple since the restaurant opened in 2011)
Know: Perched across the street from the Glenwood Springs train station, the Pullman derives its name from the railroad and the Pullman Lunchroom, which occupied the building in the 1920s.

WHILE YOU’RE THERE
Stay We love Hotel Colorado for its outside-the-room amenities: an evening cocktail in the flower-filled courtyard, the old-school lobby (complete with a grand piano), and the breakfast sandwiches to-go. The rooms? Just keep in mind the hotel was built in 1893. Hotel Colorado, 526 Pine St., Glenwood Springs; 970-945-6511, hotelcolorado.com
Hike Peak baggers get a twofer on the 12,953-foot Mt. Sopris’ twin summits. Drive south on Highway 82 toward Carbondale. Take CO 133 to Prince Creek Road. Follow Prince Creek Road for eight miles to Dinkle Lake. This roughly 12-mile trek is an all-day outing. Mt. Sopris, White River National Forest
Refuel Pork, bison, chicken, lamb, and veggie burgers share equal billing on the menu at Grind.Extra: Look for the joint at the annual Denver Burger Battle on August 8. Grind, 720 Grand Ave., Glenwood Springs; 970-230-9258, grindglenwood.com

 

 

SALIDA

ROUND-TRIP FROM DENVER: 284 MILES
Ploughboy Inc.
311 H St., Salida; 719-539-5292, ploughboyinc.com
__________
A visit to the three-year-old Ploughboy market and deli will expand your definition of eating locally. The Salida-based smorgasbord features Colorado products such as ground yak (yes, really), jalapeño pasta, and seasonal veggies, like Purple Mountain organic garlic, and works to keep tourists’ dollars in the region to feed their nearby (and often struggling) producers. Sample freshly baked almond-cranberry bread or Colorado-bean hummus while you deliberate over the deli’s selection of fresh sandwiches and daily soups. A tomato and asparagus frittata or the egg salad and rosemary sandwich? Answer: Both. You’re bound to get peckish on the drive home. —NG 

Sit: Skip the tables and get your order to go; the raging Arkansas River is just three blocks away.
Eat: The High Rockies Cubano panino with locally sourced summer sausage, Swiss cheese, butter pickles, and Molicious Mustard
Know: Ploughboy operates on a delightfully old-fashioned billing system: cash or check only. If you forget (or only carry credit cards) the store will email you an IOU.

WHILE YOU’RE THERE
Stay Situated just eight miles from town, the Mountain Goat Lodge bed-and-breakfast boasts 19 bucolic acres for strolling, a hot tub for soaking, and sumptuous blueberry-stuffed French toast for fueling up. (The lodge’s name comes from the 21 resident goats.) Mountain Goat Lodge, 9582 U.S. Highway 285 N., Salida; 719-539-7173, mountaingoatlodge.com
Sip With a massive patio overlooking a kayak playground on the Arkansas, River’s Edge coffeeshop and bar is worth hitting up. Twice. Go early for a traditional egg breakfast (we’re big fans of the potato hash), and stop by later in the afternoon for a happy-hour pint of Elevation Beer Co.’s 8 Second Kölsch, brewed in nearby Poncha Springs. Rivers Edge, 300 W. Sackett Ave., Salida; 719-207-4267, facebook.com/salidariversedge
Explore Our favorite spot to pick up the Rainbow Trail (there are several trailheads near Salida) lies just off U.S. Highway 285, about five miles south of Poncha Springs. Head east on the trail for a switchbacking jaunt through shady pines. The payoff: breathtaking views of the Collegiates.
Rainbow Trail, San Isabel National Forest

Top Doctors 2013: The List

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Issue reference: 
Intro: 

Our annual Top Doctors list for 2013.

Spread image: 

Our annual Top Doctors list, with 334 physicians in 95 specialties, complete with a list of hospitals , and FAQs about the selection process. 

The List

Denver Metro-area Hospitals

Who Decides? FAQs about our Top Docs Selection Process

 

DENVER METRO-AREA HOSPITALS

Because of space restrictions, we abbreviate the names of some of the area hospitals in the listings. Below are our abbreviations and the official names, as well as their health-care systems.

  • Aurora – The Medical Center of Aurora—HealthOne
  • Aurora South – The Medical Center of Aurora–South—HealthOne
  • Avista – Avista Adventist Hospital—Centura Health
  • Boulder Community – Boulder Community Hospital
  • Children’s – Children’s Hospital Colorado
  • Craig – Craig Hospital
  • Denver Health – Denver Health Medical Center
  • Good Samaritan – Good Samaritan Medical Center—Exempla
  • Kindred – Kindred Hospital Denver
  • Littleton – Littleton Adventist Hospital—Centura Health
  • Longmont – Longmont United Hospital
  • Lutheran – Lutheran Medical Center—Exempla
  • National Jewish – National Jewish Health
  • North Suburban – North Suburban Medical Center—HealthOne
  • OrthoColorado – OrthoColorado Hospital at St. Anthony Medical Campus—Centura Health
  • Parker – Parker Adventist Hospital—Centura Health
  • Platte Valley – Platte Valley Medical Center
  • Porter – Porter Adventist Hospital—Centura Health
  • Presbyterian/St. Luke’s – Presbyterian/St. Luke’s Medical Center—HealthOne
  • Rose – Rose Medical Center—HealthOne
  • Sky Ridge – Sky Ridge Medical Center—HealthOne
  • Spalding – Spalding Rehabilitation Hospital—HealthOne
  • St. Anthony – St. Anthony Hospital—Centura Health
  • St. Anthony North – St. Anthony North Hospital—Centura Health
  • St. Joseph – Saint Joseph Hospital—Exempla
  • Swedish – Swedish Medical Center—HealthOne
  • University – University of Colorado Hospital
  • Veterans – Veterans Affairs Medical Center

Who Decides?

Frequently asked questions about the Top Doctors selection process.

Why didn’t you choose my doctor?
We don’t pick the docs—Denver physicians do. For the past 20 years, 5280 has surveyed doctors and asked them, specialty by specialty, which metro-area physicians they would trust to treat themselves and their families. Our theory is that medical professionals are best qualified to judge other medical professionals. The ballot is posted at 5280.com from mid-January to mid-March each year. Every metro-area doctor with a valid Colorado medical license can fill it out. Once the doctor hits “save,” the votes are entered into our database and automatically tallied.

So doesn’t that make it a big popularity contest?
In many respects, yes. We hope that doctors give us careful, responsible answers, but there’s little we can do to stop them from recommending their golfing buddies. Using the list is a lot like going to your doctor and asking for a referral. The difference is that we’re asking a lot more doctors than you’d ever have a chance to. Also, by working to raise our return rate each year (it was 18 percent this year), we hope to correct for politics. The more doctors who participate, the less chance that any one person’s aspirations will win out.

I thought my doc was a good physician, but she’s not on the list. What does that mean?
Nothing. She probably is a good doctor. The selection of doctors by peer review can leave many excellent doctors off the list. Because longtime, well-known doctors have the advantage of name recognition, the list may favor that kind of doctor. However, that in no way means your doctor isn’t qualified, completely competent, and the right doc for you.

I’m a doctor and I couldn’t access the online ballot. Why?
We get the database of all licensed physicians in the state from the Colorado Department of Regulatory Agencies and select the doctors located in the seven metro-area counties (Denver, Arapahoe, Broomfield, Boulder, Adams, Douglas, and Jefferson), which results in a list of more than 9,300 docs.
If you attempted to log on to the system with your last name and physician license number and received a pop-up response that “5280 could not locate your profile,” that means there is a disconnect between your information and the information we have in the system. If you’ve recently moved to Colorado and haven’t updated your address with the Colorado Department of Regulatory Agencies, for example, your license will not register as local and therefore will be invalid. If you have registered your license at an address outside the seven metro counties, you will not be in our database. If you have a hard-to-spell last name or if you’ve recently changed your name, it’s possible the information we have from the state is incorrect and you will have trouble logging in.
In the future, if you have difficulty logging in to our system, please use the “comment” tool on the website and let us know. We’re happy to work through the problem so you can vote.

I’ve heard the list is rigged—that only doctors who advertise with 5280 make it. Is that true?
Nope. The Top Doctors list is completely unaffected by which doctors advertise in the magazine. In fact, less than one percent of doctors on this year’s list are advertisers. Doctors sometimes choose to advertise after they’ve been chosen for the list, but how much or if and when doctors choose to advertise are not taken into consideration. Period.

How are the medical specialties chosen?
Through the years we’ve worked to improve Top Doctors by updating the categories, increasing the number of eligible voters, and considering suggestions from health-care professionals. For nearly a decade, our categories have included only specialties approved by the American Board of Medical Specialties (although we do not include every ABMS specialty). This system for choosing categories eases the confusion among doctors filling out the survey and reduces the amount of lobbying we get from doctors and hospitals that’d like us to include more obscure medical specialties.

So why aren’t categories such as chiropractic and podiatry ever included?
Although these areas of medicine are completely relevant, respectable, and necessary, our list is a physician-only (M.D.s and D.O.s) directory.

Does 5280 check out all the doctors on the list?
The magazine’s research department independently verifies every doctor’s name, phone number, office address, and hospital affiliation. We also take the additional step of sending our list to the Colorado Department of Regulatory Agencies for approval—meaning doctors on our list do not currently have disciplinary actions against their licenses.

You sometimes choose doctors to be profiled or to serve as sources for the story. How do you choose them?
5280 likes to introduce you to some of our Top Doctors through small profiles or by using them to explain different aspects of medicine. We believe this is a great way to show our readers that these physicians are not just names on a list: They are highly trained individuals who live and work in the Denver area. In choosing doctors to include, we do our best to vary the specialties represented and introduce you to doctors we have never profiled before.

The List

Addiction Psychiatry
 6  Jonathan I. Ritvo
University
501 S. Cherry St., Suite 650
Denver 80246
303-333-3163

 2  Christian Thurstone
Denver Health
723 Delaware St.
Denver 80204
303-602-1896

Adolescent Medicine
 7  Christine M. Gilroy
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, Children’s
1313 E. 16th Ave., Suite B025
Aurora 80045
720-777-6131 

 8  David W. Kaplan
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6131

 6  Amy E. Sass
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6131

Adult Congenital Heart Disease
Joseph Kay
University, Children’s
12401 E. 17th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-848-6532

Advanced Heart Failure & Transplant Cardiology
 1  Larry Allen
University
12605 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-848-5300

 1  JoAnn Lindenfeld
University
1635 Aurora Court, Anschutz Outpatient Pavilion, Room 7083
Aurora 80045
720-848-5300

Allergy & Immunology
 8  F. Dan Atkins
National Jewish, Children’s
1400 Jackson St.
Denver 80206
303-398-1355

 3  Stephen Dreskin
University
1635 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-1940

 7  Mark A. Ebadi
Rose
125 Rampart Way
Denver 80230
720-858-7600

 2  Rohit K. Katial
National Jewish
1400 Jackson St.
Denver 80206
303-398-1355

Anesthesiology
 2  Bruce Baird
Littleton, Porter, Sky Ridge, Swedish
333 W. Hampden Ave., Suite 600
Englewood 80110
303-761-5646

Patricia A. Coughlin
Children’s
2045 Franklin St.
Denver 80205
303-861-3408

Kevin Fitzpatrick
Good Samaritan, St. Joseph
280 Exempla Circle
Lafayette 80026
720-536-6706

 7  Joy L. Hawkins
University
12631 E. 17th Ave., MS-8203
Aurora 80045
303-724-1757

David Lee
660 Golden Ridge Road, Suite 110
Golden 80401
303-963-1500

 12  David Theil
Rose, Sky Ridge,
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
455 Sherman St., Suite 510
Denver 80203
303-377-6825

Brain Injury Medicine
 1  Robert T. Neumann
University
12631 E. 17th Ave.
Aurora 80045
303-724-2305

Alan H. Weintraub
Craig, Littleton, Kindred
3425 S. Clarkson St.
Englewood 80113
303-789-8220

Cardiovascular Disease
 9  J. Kern Buckner
National Jewish
1400 Jackson St.
Denver 80206
303-398-1355

Thomas S. Crisman
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, St. Joseph
2253 Downing St.
Denver 80205
720-708-3471

 1  Lawrence Hergott
University
12605 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-848-5300

 6  Vijay Subbarao
Rose, St. Anthony
4500 E. Ninth Ave., Suite 540
Denver 80220
303-331-9121

Child Abuse Pediatrics
 3  Antonia Chiesa
Children’s, Denver Health
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6919

Jennifer N. Kelloff
University
11245 Huron St.
Westminster 80234
303-338-4545

 4  Andrew Sirotnak
Children’s, Denver Health
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6919

 3  Kathryn Wells
Children’s, Denver Health
2929 W. 10th Ave.
Denver 80204
720-944-3748

Child & Adolescent Psychiatry
 4  Harrison Levine
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6200

Douglas Newton
10350 E. Dakota Ave.
Denver 80247
303-367-2900

 13  Asa G. Yancey Jr.
Rose, Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
6851 S. Holly Circle, Suite 260
Centennial 80112
303-740-0400

Clinical Cardiac Electrophysiology
 5  Laurent Lewkowiez
St. Joseph, Good Samaritan
2045 Franklin St.
Denver 80205
303-861-3402

 4  William Sauer
University
12605 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-848-6510

 1  Sri Sundaram
Porter, Swedish, St. Anthony,
Sky Ridge, Littleton
1000 Southpark Drive
Littleton 80120
303-744-1065

Colon & Rectal Surgery
 1  David C. Longcope
Parker, Rose
4600 E. Hale Parkway, Suite 430
Denver 80220
303-377-6401

 5  Santosh Nandi
Swedish, Porter, Sky Ridge
401 W. Hampden Place, Suite 210
Englewood 80110
303-722-6960

 11  Graham J. Sellers
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s,
St. Joseph, Rose, Aurora South
1601 E. 19th Ave., Suite 6300
Denver 80218
303-839-5669

 12  Susan A. Sgambati
Rose
4600 E. Hale Parkway, Suite 430
Denver 80220
303-377-6401

Complex General Surgical Oncology
Eric O. Kortz
Swedish, Sky Ridge, Littleton
601 E. Hampden Ave., Suite 470
Englewood 80113
303-789-1877

 1  Shawn Young
St. Joseph, Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
1825 Marion St.
Denver 80218
303-318-3464

Congenital Cardiac Surgery
 3  David N. Campbell
Children’s, University
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6660

 2  James Jaggers
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6660

 3  Steven R. Leonard
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
2055 High St., Suite 260
Denver 80205
720-475-8730

Critical Care Medicine
 2  Thomas W. Bost
St. Anthony, Porter, Parker
274 Union Blvd., Suite 110
Lakewood 80228
303-951-0600

 2  Todd Bull
University
1635 Ursula St.
Aurora 80045
303-493-8333

 5  Ivor S. Douglas
University, Denver Health
777 Bannock St.
Denver 80204
303-602-5012

 6  Stephen K. Frankel
National Jewish, Sky Ridge
1400 Jackson St.
Denver 80206
303-398-1355

Clara Restrepo
Lutheran, Good Samaritan
1375 E. 20th Ave.
Denver 80205
303-338-4545

 5  Michael D. Schwartz
University, National Jewish, Rose
1400 Jackson St.
Denver 80206
303-398-1521

Dermatology
 6  Joel L. Cohen
Swedish, Porter, Sky Ridge
499 E. Hampden Ave., Suite 450
Englewood 80113
303-756-7546

 3  Ann M. Leibold
Rose
7447 E. Berry Ave., Suite 200
Greenwood Village 80111
303-758-1449

 11  Meg Lemon
Rose, St. Joseph, Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
1960 N. Ogden St., Suite 555
Denver 80218
303-831-0400

 6  Margaret “Migs” Muldrow
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
1601 E. 19th Ave., Suite 4450
Denver 80218
303-830-2900

Developmental-Behavioral Pediatrics
 2  Sandra L. Friedman
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6630

 4  Edward Goldson
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6630

Wendy Zerin
Children’s
7701 Sheridan Blvd.
Arvada 80003
303-338-4545

Diagnostic Radiology
Clint M. Anderson
2490 W. 26th Ave., Suite 120A
Denver 80211
303-547-3495

 7  Andrew Fisher
Porter, Swedish, Littleton,
Aurora, Sky Ridge, Spalding
10700 E. Geddes Ave., Suite 200
Englewood 80112
720-493-3700

 9  Matthew Fleishman
Swedish, Sky Ridge, Spalding
10700 E. Geddes Ave., Suite 200
Englewood 80113
720-493-3700

 3  Jennifer Kemp
Rose
1746 Cole Blvd., Suite 150
Lakewood 80401
303-914-8800

 14  David A. Lynch
National Jewish, University
1400 Jackson St.
Denver 80206
303-398-1355

Emergency Medicine
Wheaton Brewer
St. Joseph
1835 Franklin St.
Denver 80218
303-318-2130

Homi Kapadia
Lutheran, Good Samaritan
8300 W. 38th Ave.
Wheat Ridge 80033
303-425-2087

 8  Donald J. Lefkowits
Rose
4567 E. Ninth Ave.
Denver 80220
303-320-2455

 1  Andrew Ziller
Rose
4567 E. Ninth Ave.
Denver 80220
303-320-2455

Endocrinology, Diabetes & Metabolism
Michelle Cassara
Lutheran
3555 Lutheran Parkway, Suite 180
Wheat Ridge 80033
303-403-7933

 14  Mervyn Lifschitz
Rose
4545 E. Ninth Ave., Suite 310
Denver 80220
303-388-4673

 9  Michael McDermott
University
1635 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-2650

Epilepsy
 1  Edward H. Maa
University, Denver Health
660 Bannock St.
Denver 80204
303-436-4949

Kirsten Nielsen
Lutheran
3550 Lutheran Parkway, Suite 200
Wheat Ridge 80033
303-403-7370

 1  Mark C. Spitz
University
1635 Aurora Court, Suite 4500
Aurora 80045
720-848-2080

Family Medicine
Julia Atkins
1030 Johnson Road, Suite 200
Golden 80401
303-278-4600

Michael Citrin
Children’s
9285 Hepburn St.
Highlands Ranch 80129
303-338-4545

Stephen Cobb
Good Samaritan
16570 Washington St.
Thornton 80023
303-689-6600

Michelle Salli
St. Joseph
4803 Ward Road
Wheat Ridge 80033
303-338-4545

 7  Jonathan D. Zonca
Rose
4500 E. Ninth Ave., Suite 320
Denver 80220
303-322-0212

Female Pelvic Medicine & Reconstructive Surgery
 1  Oscar Aguirre
Sky Ridge, Rose, Parker
9800 Mt. Pyramid Court, Suite 300
Englewood 80112
303-322-0500

 1  Karlotta Davis
University
1635 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-1800

 1  Elias Hsu
Swedish, St. Anthony, Lutheran
2777 Mile High Stadium Circle
Denver 80211
303-825-8822

 1  Andrew McBride
St. Joseph, Good Samaritan
1960 N. Ogden St., Suite 520
Denver 80218
303-318-3220

Gastroenterology
 7  Jonathan P. Fishman
Rose
4500 E. Ninth Ave., Suite 720
Denver 80220
303-355-3525

 3  Phillip D. Hanna
National Jewish
1400 Jackson St.
Denver 80206
303-398-1355

 2  Nuzhat Iqbal
Longmont
1925 W. Mountain View Ave.
Longmont 80501
720-494-3123

John Riopelle
Good Samaritan, St. Joseph
2045 Franklin St.
Denver 80205
303-338-4545

Geriatric Medicine
 14  Donald Murphy
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, Swedish,
Rose, St. Joseph
2400 S. Peoria St., Suite 100
Aurora 80014
303-306-4321

 1  Robert S. Schwartz
University
1635 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-3400

 10  Jeffrey Wallace
University
1635 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-3400
• Not taking new patients

Geriatric Psychiatry
 5  Jennifer Osborne
Good Samaritan, Lutheran, St. Joseph
10350 E. Dakota Ave.
Denver 80247
303-338-4545
• Not taking new patients

 2  Michael A. Weitzner
St. Joseph, Good Samaritan, Lutheran
10350 E. Dakota Ave.
Denver 80231
303-367-2900

Clifford Zeller
Lutheran
5031 S. Ulster St., Suite 350
Denver 80237
720-381-0015

Gynecologic Oncology
 14  Susan A. Davidson
University, Rose
1665 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-1060

 13  Kevin P. Davis
Swedish
701 E. Hampden Ave., Suite 210
Englewood 80113
303-781-9090

Margrit Juretzka
Good Samaritan, St. Joseph
2045 Franklin St.
Denver 80205
303-338-4545

 9  Mary Jo Schmitz
Swedish
701 E. Hampden Ave., Suite 210
Englewood 80113
303-781-9090

Hematology
 12  Alan S. Feiner
Rose
4700 E. Hale Parkway, Suite 400
Denver 80220
303-321-0302

 11  Kathryn Hassell
University
1665 Aurora Court, Suite 2004
Aurora 80045
720-848-0300

Thomas Kenney
Porter
2555 S. Downing St., Suite 240
Denver 80210
303-715-7030

 12  Jeffrey V. Matous
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s,
1721 E. 19th Ave., Suite 300
Denver 80218
720-754-4800

Hospice & Palliative Medicine
 5  Daniel C. Johnson
St. Joseph, Good Samaritan
1833 Franklin St.
Aurora 80218
303-909-2882

 5  Jean Kutner
University
8111 E. Lowry Blvd., Suite 120
Denver 80230
720-848-9500

 2  Jeanie Youngwerth
University
12401 E. 17th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-848-4289

Infectious Disease
 18  Raymond N. Blum
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, St. Joseph
1601 E. 19th Ave., Suite 3700
Denver 80218
303-831-4774

 15  Norman K. Fujita
Lutheran, St. Anthony,
St. Anthony North, North Suburban
3885 Upham St., Suite 200
Wheat Ridge 80033
303-425-9245

 16  Kenneth S. Greenberg
Rose
4545 E. Ninth Ave., Suite 120
Denver 80220
303-393-8050

 1  Marilyn Levi
University
1635 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-0191

Internal Medicine
 1  Kenneth R. Cohen
Lutheran
30940 Stagecoach Blvd.,
Suite 270E
Evergreen 80439
303-674-6062

 7  Mark A. Earnest
University
1635 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-2300
• Not taking new patients

Amy Espinosa
St. Joseph, Lutheran, Good Samaritan
535 16th St., Suite 750
Denver 80202
303-825-4646

 12  Lawrence E. Feinberg
University
1635 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-2300
• Not taking new patients

Susan Fixman
St. Joseph
8383 W. Alameda Ave.
Lakewood 80226
303-338-4545

 3  Thomas M. Li
Rose
4545 E. Ninth Ave., Suite 610
Denver 80220
303-329-8998

 7  David Mellman
Rose
4545 E. Ninth Ave., Suite 630
Denver 80220
303-320-2929
• Not taking new patients

 8  David Tanaka
University
8111 E. Lowry Blvd., Suite 120
Denver 80230
720-848-9500

Interventional Cardiology
 5  John D. Carroll
University, Children’s
12401 E. 17th Ave., Suite 524
Aurora 80045
720-848-6508

 2  Jerry H. Greenberg
Aurora, Sky Ridge, Parker
1444 S. Potomac St., Suite 300
Aurora 80012
303-750-0822

 3  Christopher A. Lang
St. Joseph, Good Samaritan
2045 Franklin St.
Denver 80205
303-861-3402

 4  John C. Messenger
University, Denver Health
12401 E. 17th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-848-5300

Rajesh Sharma
St. Joseph, Lutheran, Good Samaritan
8300 Alcott St., Suite 300
Westminster 80031
303-603-9970

Maternal & Fetal Medicine
 6  Henry L. Galan
University, Children’s, Porter
1665 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-1060

 5  Kent Heyborne
Denver Health, University
790 Delaware St.
Denver 80204
303-602-9728

 2  L. Greg Lindsay
Rose, Swedish, Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, Sky Ridge
4500 E. Ninth Ave., Suite 210
Denver 80220
303-320-7101

 6  Richard Porreco
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, Rose, Swedish
2055 High St., Suite 230
Denver 80205
303-792-5585

William Stettler
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
2055 High St., Suite 230
Denver 80205
303-792-5585

Medical Genetics
 8  David K. Manchester
Children’s, University
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
303-724-2370

 8  Matthew Taylor
University
12605 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-848-0782

Medical Oncology
 3  Allen L. Cohn
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, St. Joseph, Rose
1800 Williams St., Suite 200
Denver 80218
303-388-4876

 10  Alan S. Feiner
Rose
4700 E. Hale Parkway, Suite 400
Denver 80220
303-321-0302

 8  Richard B. Hesky
St. Joseph, Rose, Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
1825 Marion St.
Denver 80218
303-318-3434

 1  Wells A. Messersmith
University
1665 Aurora Court, Suite 2004
Aurora 80045
720-848-0300

Medical Toxicology
 6  David A. Gilmore
University, St. Joseph
1835 Franklin St.
Denver 80218
303-318-3379

 5  Kennon Heard
Children’s, Denver Health, University
990 Bannock St.
Denver 80204
303-389-1264

 1  Kenneth Kulig
Swedish, Porter, Littleton
2555 S. Downing St., Suite 260
Denver 80210
303-765-3800

Neonatal-Perinatal
Medicine
 4  John P. Kinsella
Children’s, Parker, Littleton
13121 E. 17th Ave.
Aurora 80045
303-724-2840

 8  Adam A. Rosenberg
Children’s, Boulder Community, Lutheran
13123 E. 17th Ave.
Aurora 80045
303-724-2840

 6  Joe Toney
Littleton, Sky Ridge, St. Anthony, Rose
2055 High St., Suite 230
Denver 80205
303-839-7440

Nephrology
 9  Mark A. Dillingham
Porter, Swedish, Littleton
950 E. Harvard Ave., Suite 240
Denver 80210
303-871-0977

 11  Stuart L. Linas
Denver Health, University
777 Bannock St.
Denver 80204
303-602-5012

 4  Isaac Teitelbaum
University
1635 Ursula St.
Aurora 80045
303-493-8333

Neurodevelopmental Disabilities
 4  Ellen R. Elias
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6739

 1  Sandra L. Friedman
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6630

Neurological Surgery
Todd Crawford
St. Joseph
2045 Franklin St.
Denver 80205
303-338-4545

 6  J. Paul Elliott
Swedish
499 E. Hampden Ave., Suite 220
Englewood 80113
303-783-8844

 12  Kevin O. Lillehei
University, Children’s, Denver Health,
St. Anthony
1635 N. Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
303-724-2305

 18  Stephen H. Shogan
Rose
4700 Hale Parkway, Suite 500
Denver 80220
303-333-8740

Neurology
 2  Chris Fanale
Swedish, Sky Ridge,
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, Lutheran
499 E. Hampden Ave., Suite 360
Englewood 80113
303-781-4485

Thomas M. Rampy
Avista
1044 S. 88th St., Suite 102
Louisville 80027
303-926-1015

 10  Ralph R. Round
Rose
4545 E. Ninth Ave., Suite 510
Denver 80220
303-321-0700

 4  Robert Schabbing
Good Samaritan, St. Joseph, University
1375 E. 20th Ave.
Denver 80205
303-861-3380

 1  Adam J. Wolff
Porter, Littleton, Swedish
950 E. Harvard Ave., Suite 570
Denver 80210
303-715-9024

Neurology (special qualifications in child neurology)
 5  Julie A. Parsons
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6895

 5  Benjamin A. Ross
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
2055 High St., Suite 210
Denver 80205
303-226-7230

Neuromuscular Medicine
Dianna Quan
University
1635 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-2080

 5  Steven P. Ringel
University, Denver Health
1635 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-2080

Neuroradiology
 7  Sean O. Bryant
Rose, Presbyterian/St. Luke’s,
St. Joseph, Parker
1746 Cole Blvd., Suite 150
Lakewood 80401
303-914-8800

 8  Peter Ricci
Swedish, Sky Ridge
10700 E. Geddes Ave., Suite 200
Englewood 80112
720-493-3700

 1  Nicholas V. Stence
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6541

 1  David Weiland
St. Anthony
2490 W. 26th Ave., Suite 220A
Denver 80211
303-433-9729

Nuclear Medicine
John Gerhold
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, Rose, St. Joseph
1746 Cole Blvd., Suite 150
Lakewood 80401
303-914-8800

William C. Klingensmith III
University
1635 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-6611

Phillip J. Koo
University
1635 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-6611

Samuel Wang
Swedish, Sky Ridge, Aurora
10700 E. Geddes Ave., Suite 200
Englewood 80112
303-761-9190

Obstetrics & Gynecology
Jaime Arruda
University
1635 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-1060

 3  Gayle P. Crawford
Lutheran, St. Anthony
7950 Kipling St., Suite 201
Arvada 80005
303-424-6466

 6  Yuko Kitahama-D’Ambrosia
Rose, Sky Ridge
4500 E. Ninth Ave., Suite 200
Denver 80220
303-399-0055
• Not taking new patients

 13  Susan A. Moison
Rose, Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
2055 High St., Suite 140
Denver 80205
303-322-2240

 1  L. Chesney Thompson
University
1635 N. Ursula St.
Aurora 80045
303-724-2038

 17  Gerald V. Zarlengo
Rose, St. Joseph
4600 Hale Parkway, Suite 400
Denver 80220
303-321-2166

Occupational Medicine
Jonathan Bloch
5855 E. Stapleton Drive North,
Suite A-130
Denver 80216
303-371-7444

 2  Lisa A. Maier
National Jewish
1400 Jackson St.
Denver 80206
303-398-1355

 8  Cecile S. Rose
National Jewish
1400 Jackson St.
Denver 80206
303-398-1355

Ophthalmology
 7  Thomas P. Campbell
Lutheran
7920 W. 44th Ave.
Wheat Ridge 80033
303-424-7572

Thomas Gardner
Good Samaritan, St. Joseph
2045 Franklin St.
Denver 80205
303-338-4545

Carl D. Hanson
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
1601 E. 19th Ave., Suite 3450
Denver 80218
303-863-1231

 7  Jason M. Jacobs
Porter, Rose
950 E. Harvard Ave., Suite 320
Denver 80210
303-282-5467

Orthopedic Sports Medicine
Douglas Foulk
Lutheran
660 Golden Ridge Road, Suite 250
Golden 80401
303-233-1223

Joseph Hsin
Avista, Lutheran
80 Health Park Drive, Suite 230
Louisville 80027
303-665-2603

 3  Eric C. McCarty
University, Boulder Community, Children’s
311 Mapleton Ave.
Boulder 80304
303-441-2219

 5  Andrew W. Parker
Rose
4700 E. Hale Parkway, Suite 550
Denver 80220
303-321-6600

 1  Armando F. Vidal
University, Children’s
2000 S. Colorado Blvd., Tower 1, Suite 4500
Denver 80222
720-848-8200

Orthopedic Surgery
Premjit “Pete” S. Deol
8510 Bryant St., Suite 120
Westminster 80031
303-233-1223

Jon Erickson
OrthoColorado
500 Discovery Parkway, Suite 125
Superior 80027
303-926-8734

 15  Andrew W. Parker
Rose
4700 E. Hale Parkway, Suite 550
Denver 80220
303-321-6600

 12  Edward “Ted” H. Parks
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, St. Joseph
1830 Franklin St., Suite 450
Denver 80218
303-321-1333

Otolaryngology
 14  John P. Campana
Porter, University, Swedish, Rose
2555 S. Downing St., Suite 100
Denver 80210
303-778-5658

 7  Todd T. Kingdom
University, National Jewish,
Children’s, Rose
1635 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-2820

David Nosan
Good Samaritan, St. Joseph
2045 Franklin St.
Denver 80205
303-338-4545

 8  Owen S. Reichman
Rose
4500 E. Ninth Ave., Suite 610
Denver 80220
303-316-7048

David Van Kooten
St. Anthony, Lutheran, North Suburban
7850 Vance Drive, Suite 225
Arvada 80003
303-431-8881

Pain Medicine
Jeromy Cole
Good Samaritan, St. Joseph
2045 Franklin St.
Denver 80205
303-338-4545

 1  Karen H. Knight
660 Golden Ridge Road, Suite 250
Golden 80401
303-233-1223

 9  Gary R. Morris
Rose, Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, St. Joseph
455 Sherman St., Suite 510
Denver 80203
303-377-6825

 1  Susan Wu
St. Anthony, St. Anthony North
2490 W. 26th Ave., Suite 120A
Denver 80211
303-433-9729

Pathology
 1  Bette K. DeMasters
University, Children’s
12605 E. 16th Ave., Room 3026
Aurora 80045
720-848-4450

 5  Steve D. Groshong
National Jewish
1400 Jackson St.
Denver 80206
303-398-1355

 11  John E. Truell
Swedish, Sky Ridge
501 E. Hampden Ave.
Englewood 80113
303-788-6130

Pediatric Anesthesiology
Christopher Ciarallo
Denver Health
777 Bannock St.
Denver 80204
303-602-1102

 2  Patricia A. Coughlin
Children’s
2045 Franklin St.
Denver 80205
303-861-3408

 1  Robert H. Friesen
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6226

Mark D. Twite
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6226

Pediatric Cardiology
 7  D. Dunbar Ivy
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6820

 9  David J. Miller
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, Sky Ridge, Rose
2055 High St., Suite 255
Denver 80205
303-860-9933

 15  Michael S. Schaffer
Children’s, Denver Health
13123 E. 16th Ave., Suite B100
Aurora 80045
720-777-2942

Pediatric Critical Care Medicine
 6  Martin Alswang
Swedish
2055 High St., Suite 250
Denver 80205
303-839-7440

 6  Emily L. Dobyns
Children’s
13123 E. 17th Ave.
Aurora 80045
303-724-2393

 5  Peter M. Mourani
Children’s
13123 E. 17th Ave.
Aurora 80045
303-724-2393

Pediatric Dermatology
H. Alan Arbuckle
Good Samaritan, Children’s, St. Joseph
280 Exempla Circle
Lafayette 80026
303-338-3376

 6  Joseph Morelli
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-8445

 2  Lori Prok
Children’s
469 W. Highway 7
Broomfield 80023
720-777-8445

 1  Elizabeth Swanson
Aurora, Children’s,
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
1390 S. Potomac St., Suite 124
Aurora 80012
303-368-8611

Pediatric Emergency Medicine
 8  Lalit Bajaj
Children’s, Parker
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6888

 4  Christine D. Darr
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, Swedish
5600 S. Quebec St., Suite 312A
Greenwood Village 80111
303-436-2727

Joseph Grubenhoff
Children’s, Parker
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6888

 2  Genie Roosevelt
Children’s, Parker
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6888

Pediatric Endocrinology
 8  Sharon H. Travers
Children’s, University
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6128

 7  Phil S. Zeitler
Children’s, University
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6128

Pediatric Gastroenterology
 1  David Brumbaugh
Children’s, University
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6669

 8  Michael Narkewicz
Children’s, University
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6669

 3  Jason Soden
Children’s, University
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6669

 8  Ted Stathos
Sky Ridge, Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
9224 Teddy Lane, Suite 200
Lone Tree 80124
303-790-1515

Pediatric Hematology & Oncology
 13  Brian Greffe
Children’s, University
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6740

 8  Taru Hays
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-8676

 9  Julie D. Zimbelman
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
2055 High St., Suite 340
Denver 80205
303-832-2344

Pediatric Infectious Disease
Wendi Drummond
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
1601 E. 19th Ave., Suite 5125
Denver 80218
303-861-0022

 8  Mary P. Glodé
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6981

 8  James K. Todd
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6981

Pediatric Nephrology
 2  Mindy Banks
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
2055 High St., Suite 330
Denver 80205
303-301-9010

 7  Melissa A. Cadnapaphornchai
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6263

 8  Douglas M. Ford
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6263

Pediatric Otolaryngology
 8  Kenny Chan
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-8501

 7  Peggy Kelley
Children’s, Parker, University
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-8501

 1  Sheri Poznanovic
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, Sky Ridge
2055 High St., Suite 110
Denver 80205
303-301-9019

Jeremy Prager
Children’s, Parker, University
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-8501

Pediatric Pathology
 2  Megan Dishop
Children’s, University
13123 E. 16th Ave., Suite B120
Aurora 80045
720-777-6714

 5  Mark A. Lovell
Children’s, University
13123 E. 16th Ave., Suite B120
Aurora 80045
720-777-6714

 5  R. Weslie Tyson
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
1719 E. 19th Ave.
Denver 80218
303-839-6851

Pediatric Pulmonology
 12  Robin Deterding
Children’s, University
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6181

 2  Monica Federico
Children’s, Denver Health
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6181

 6  Scott D. Sagel
Children’s, University
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6181

Pediatric Radiology
 5  Laura Z. Fenton
Children’s, University, National Jewish
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-8509

 5  Thomas C. Hay
Children’s, University, National Jewish
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-8509

 2  Jaime R. Stewart
Children’s, University
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-8509

 5  John D. Strain
Children’s, National Jewish, University
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-8509

Pediatric Rehabilitation Medicine
 6  Dennis J. Matthews
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-2806

 5  Pam Wilson
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-2806

Pediatric Rheumatology
 8  J. Roger Hollister
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6132

 8  Jennifer Soep
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6132

Pediatric Surgery
 7  Denis D. Bensard
Children’s, Denver Health, St. Joseph
777 Bannock St.
Denver 80204
303-436-6000

 2  Jennifer L. Bruny
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6571

 4  Frederick Karrer
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6571

 7  David Partrick
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6571

 16  Steven S. Rothenberg
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s,
Sky Ridge, Swedish
2055 High St., Suite 370
Denver 80205
303-839-6001

Pediatric Transplant Hepatology
Frederick Karrer
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6571

 5  Michael Narkewicz
Children’s, University
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6669

Pediatric Urology
 3  Peter D. Furness III
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, Children’s
1601 E. 19th Ave., Suite 6400
Denver 80218
303-839-7200

 6  Stanley H. Galansky
Sky Ridge, Swedish, Littleton
799 E. Hampden Ave., Suite 430
Englewood 80113
303-733-8848

 4  Duncan T. Wilcox
Children’s
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-3926

Pediatrics
Sorenna Kirkegaard
1375 E. 20th Ave.
Denver 80205
303-338-4545

 7  Noah Makovsky
Children’s, Rose, Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
2975 Roslyn St., Suite 100
Denver 80238
303-399-7900

 16  Jay Markson
Children’s, Rose, St. Joseph, Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
1625 Marion St.
Denver 80218
303-830-7337
• Not taking new patients

 1  Michael Milobsky
Aurora, Swedish
1001 S. Perry St., Suite 101A
Castle Rock 80104
303-688-5226

 7  Steven Perry
Children’s, Rose, Swedish,
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
4900 E. Kentucky Ave.
Denver 80246
303-756-0101
• Not taking new patients

 6  S. Andrew Tucker
Rose, Sky Ridge, Swedish
2121 S. Oneida St., Suite 200
Denver 80224
303-757-6418

Physical Medicine & Rehabilitation
 1  Venu Akuthota
University
1635 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-1980

 4  Christopher D’Ambrosia
Rose
8101 E. Lowry Blvd., Suite 230
Denver 80230
303-344-9090

 8  David Mulica
St. Joseph, Good Samaritan
1375 E. 20th Ave.
Denver 80205
303-344-7763

Plastic Surgery
 7  Tanya A. Atagi
Rose, Sky Ridge, Littleton
10099 Ridgegate Parkway,
Suite 430
Lone Tree 80124
303-327-7300

 4  Michael Bateman
Rose, Sky Ridge, Littleton,
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
4700 Hale Parkway, Suite 520
Denver 80220
303-388-1945

 13  William C. Brown
St. Joseph, Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, Rose
1578 Humboldt St.
Denver 80218
303-830-7200

 9  Royal Gerow
St. Joseph, Good Samaritan,
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, Children’s
2045 Franklin St., Ninth Floor
Denver 80205
303-861-3368

David Schnur
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s,
Aurora, St. Joseph
1578 Humboldt St.
Denver 80218
303-830-7200

Plastic Surgery (within the head neck)
 5  John F. Bershof
Rose, Sky Ridge
4500 E. Ninth Ave., Suite 100
Denver 80220
303-399-7662

 2  William C. Brown
St. Joseph, Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, Rose
1578 Humboldt St.
Denver 80218
303-830-7200

 2  Frederic W.B. Deleyiannis
Children’s, University
13123 E. 16th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-777-6409

Psychiatry
Elishia Oliva
10350 E. Dakota Ave.
Denver 80247
303-367-2900

 6  Christopher Schneck
University
13199 E. Montview Blvd., Suite 330
Aurora 80045
303-724-3300

 6  Frederick S. Wamboldt
National Jewish
1400 Jackson St.
Denver 80206
303-398-1355
• Not taking new patients

Psychosomatic Medicine
David Handley
Lutheran, St. Joseph, Good Samaritan
1835 Franklin St.
Denver 80218
303-367-2960
• Not taking new patients

 3  Frederick S. Wamboldt
National Jewish
1400 Jackson St.
Denver 80206
303-398-1355
• Not taking new patients

Public Health & General Preventive Medicine
William Burman
Denver Health
605 Bannock St.
Denver 80204
303-602-3700

 3  Eric K. France
St. Joseph, Good Samaritan
10065 E. Harvard Ave., Suite 250
Denver 80231
303-338-4545
• Not taking new patients

 2  Judith Shlay
Denver Health
605 Bannock St.
Denver 80204
303-602-3700

Pulmonary Disease
Todd Bull
University
1635 Ursula St.
Aurora 80045
303-493-8333

 7  James J. Fenton
Swedish, National Jewish
499 E. Hampden Ave., Suite 300
Englewood 80113
303-788-8500

 16  James Good
National Jewish
1400 Jackson St.
Denver 80206
303-398-1355

 2  Robert J. Lapidus
Lutheran
8550 W. 38th Ave., Suite 202
Wheat Ridge 80033
303-940-1661

Tom Stelzner
St. Joseph
1375 E. 20th Ave.
Denver 80205
303-861-3640

Radiation Oncology
Ari Ballonoff
St. Joseph
1835 Franklin St.
Denver 80218
303-837-6860

Mark Chidel
St. Joseph
1835 Franklin St.
Denver 80218
303-837-6860

 1  Seth D. Reiner
2555 S. Downing St.
Denver 80210
303-778-5714

Reproductive Endocrinology & Infertility
 1  Ruben Alvero
University
1635 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-1690

 2  Jesse Mills
Swedish, Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, Porter
2777 Mile High Stadium Circle
Denver 80211
303-825-8822

 10  Debra A. Minjarez
Rose, Sky Ridge
4600 Hale Parkway, Suite 490
Denver 80220
303-355-2555

 20  William B. Schoolcraft
Swedish, Sky Ridge
10290 Ridgegate Circle
Lone Tree 80124
303-788-8300

Rheumatology
 1  Aryeh Fischer
National Jewish, University
1400 Jackson St.
Denver 80206
303-398-1355

 3  Robert Hays
St. Joseph, Good Samaritan
2045 Franklin St.
Denver 80205
303-764-4480

 6  Richard T. Meehan
National Jewish, University
1400 Jackson St.
Denver 80206
303-398-1355

 11  Sterling G. West
University, Denver Health,
National Jewish
1635 Aurora Court, Suite 4600
Aurora 80045
720-848-1940
• Not taking new patients

Sleep Medicine
 6  Robert Ballard
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s
1601 E. 19th Ave., Suite 3550
Denver 80218
303-832-2955

 6  Neale Lange
Parker, St. Anthony
274 Union Blvd., Suite 110
Lakewood 80228
303-951-0600

 6  Teofilo Lee-Chiong
National Jewish
1400 Jackson St.
Denver 80206
303-398-1355

John Wilkins
1375 E. 20th Ave.
Denver 80205
303-861-3640

Spinal Cord Injury Medicine
 4  Thomas Balazy
Craig, Swedish
3425 S. Clarkson St.
Englewood 80113
303-789-8220

Sports Medicine
 1  Douglas Foulk
Lutheran
660 Golden Ridge Road, Suite 250
Golden 80401
303-233-1223

 7  Eric C. McCarty
University, Boulder Community, Children’s
311 Mapleton Ave.
Boulder 80304
303-441-2219

Surgery
 4  Eric O. Kortz
Swedish, Sky Ridge, Littleton
601 E. Hampden Ave., Suite 470
Englewood 80113
303-789-1877

 9  Robert M. Macdonald
Rose, Platte Valley
4545 E. Ninth Ave., Suite 460
Denver 80220
303-388-2922

 3  Robert C. McIntyre Jr.
University, Children’s
12631 E. 17th Ave.
Aurora 80045
303-724-2728

 17  William J. Plaus
Rose, Platte Valley
4545 E. Ninth Ave., Suite 460
Denver 80220
303-388-2922

 3  Bruce Waring
Lutheran, St. Anthony
400 Indiana St., Suite 200
Golden 80401
303-940-8200

Surgery Of The Hand
 6  Carlton M. Clinkscales
Porter, Littleton, Children’s
601 E. Hampden Ave., Suite 500
Englewood 80113
303-744-7078

 5  Michael J.V. Gordon
University, Veterans
12631 E. 17th Ave.
Aurora 80045
720-848-0485

 6  Davis K. Hurley
Rose, Sky Ridge
8101 E. Lowry Blvd., Suite 230
Denver 80230
303-344-9090

 2  Edmund B. Rowland
St. Anthony
660 Golden Ridge Road, Suite 250
Golden 80401
303-233-1223

Surgical Critical Care
 5  Robert C. McIntyre Jr.
University, Children’s
12631 E. 17th Ave.
Aurora 80045
303-724-2728

 4  Ernest E. Moore
Denver Health, University
777 Bannock St.
Denver 80204
303-436-4949

Patrick Offner
St. Anthony, Lutheran
400 Indiana St., Suite 200
Golden 80401
303-940-8200

Thoracic & Cardiac Surgery
 2  Joseph C. Cleveland Jr.
University, Veterans, Denver Health
12631 E. 17th Ave., C-310
Aurora 80045
303-724-2799

 13  Myles S. Guber
Porter, Swedish, Littleton
950 E. Harvard Ave., Suite 550
Denver 80210
303-778-6527

Kevin Miller
St. Joseph
1960 Ogden St., Suite 540
Denver 80218
303-318-2440

 19  Richard K. Parker
Rose, Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, St. Joseph
1601 E. 19th Ave., Suite 5000
Denver 80218
303-861-8158

Transplant Hepatology
 1  James Burton
University
1635 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-0005

 5  Gregory T. Everson
University
1635 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-0005

Urology
 5  Brett Abernathy
St. Anthony, Lutheran, St. Anthony North
2777 Mile High Stadium Circle
Denver 80211
303-825-8822

 7  Edward B. Eigner
Littleton, Swedish, Sky Ridge
799 E. Hampden Ave., Suite 430
Englewood 80113
303-733-8848

Dustin Ridout
St. Joseph
2045 Franklin St.
Denver 80205
303-861-3406

Vascular & Interventional Radiology
 7  Janette Durham
University, Children’s
12401 E. 17th Ave., Suite L954
Aurora 80045
720-848-7440

 2  Christopher Leoni
St. Anthony, St. Anthony North
2490 W. 26th Ave., Suite 10A
Denver 80211
303-433-9729

 7  Eric Malden
Swedish, Porter, Sky Ridge
10700 E. Geddes Ave., Suite 200
Englewood 80112
303-761-9190

Vascular Neurology
 3  Chris Fanale
Swedish, Sky Ridge,
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, Lutheran
499 E. Hampden Ave., Suite 360
Englewood 80113
303-781-4485

 1  William Jones
University
1635 Aurora Court
Aurora 80045
720-848-2080

Vascular Surgery
 11  Michael A. Cooper
Rose, Swedish, Porter
4600 E. Hale Parkway, Suite 460
Denver 80220
303-388-7265

 1  Mark Nehler
University
12631 E. 17th Ave.
Aurora 80045
303-724-2690

 7  Thomas F. Rehring
St. Joseph, Good Samaritan
2045 Franklin St., Third Floor
Denver 80205
303-861-3688

 4  Alan Y. Synn
Presbyterian/St. Luke’s, St. Joseph
1601 E. 19th Ave., Suite 3950
Denver 80218
303-539-0736

Hero Work

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Issue reference: 
Intro: 

Five stories that will make you believe doctors really do have superpowers.

Deck: 

Five stories that will make you believe that, on their best days, doctors really do have superpowers.

Spread image: 

Search our Top Doctors 2013 list here, and read the sidebars from the magazine, including how to save a limb, recognize a heartattack, and  donating blood here.

_____

Most physicians will tell you unequivocally that being a doctor isn’t anything like what television or the movies make it out to be. Diagnosing a rare infectious disease is not an everyday occurrence, performing a lifesaving procedure on a stricken colleague is extremely uncommon, and shouting “stat!” will usually elicit a chorus of amused chuckles. Their work, they’ll say, is not valiant or daring or even exciting on most days. In the hospital and at the clinic, they’re just doing what they’re trained to do—and that does not a hero make. After asking some of Denver’s Top Doctors to tell us about their most successful days as physicians, however, we’re inclined to disagree. The men and women of this city’s medical community might not break out the cape often, but when crises do happen, they are ready to save the day.

Special Delivery
Coaxing new life while cheating death.

Friday, February 10, 2012, 8 a.m. to 10:10 a.m.
➥The labor and delivery deck at Saint Joseph’s Hospital in Uptown has long been one of the busiest such services in Denver. Each year, nearly 4,000 infants are born within the walls of the Baby Place, a 14-suite unit designed to feel more like a destination spa than a medical center. Although the slate tile, soft color palette, and wall art set a serene tone, “L&D,” in hospital parlance, is always bustling.
The morning of February 10, 2012, was no different. The typical hum of activity—nurses in blue scrubs flitting between rooms, white-coated doctors reviewing charts in the hallway, the occasional labor pain–induced scream escaping from an open door—met Dr. Joyce Gottesfeld as she came on for her 8 a.m. shift. Like any other day, a roster full of patients in varying stages of labor awaited the obstetrician-gynecologist. Gottesfeld checked the charts of each, including a spritely brown-haired, brown-eyed 33-year-old who was having her first child. C. Smith was only about five centimeters dilated after having been admitted the previous evening to be induced. As Gottesfeld began visiting each of her eight patients that morning, Smith was getting an epidural from the anesthesiologist.
When Gottesfeld finally laid eyes on Smith, her husband, A. Smith, and Smith’s mother, things were looking up. Although the patient mentioned she was uncomfortable and feeling tremendous pressure, Gottesfeld assured her that was good news—Smith was fully dilated and nearly ready to deliver. Except for some minor decelerations in the baby’s heart rate—usually attributed to the epidural—labor was proceeding beautifully. The doctor said she was going to check on another patient while the nurses set up the room and that she would be back shortly.
Gottesfeld could not have known just how quickly she would be paged back to Smith’s suite—or that what would happen next would be unlike anything she’d ever experienced in her 16-year-long career.

10:11 a.m. to 10:30 a.m.
➥“Down tones” is doctor-speak for when a baby’s heart rate slows dangerously during labor. When that happens—which is not uncommon—the baby isn’t getting enough oxygen. Nurses paged Gottesfeld back to Smith’s suite for that exact reason. Changing the mother’s position or putting her on oxygen can sometimes resolve these decelerations—but in Smith’s case the typical solutions weren’t working. Gottesfeld couldn’t believe it: 10 minutes ago this was an easy delivery in the making; now we’re talking a crash C-section.
At least, that’s what she thought was happening until Smith went pale, said she felt sick, and began to vomit. By the time they got her to the labor and delivery operating room (OR) to do the emergency
C-section, Smith was frothing at the mouth and having a seizure. Seconds later she had no pulse.
There’s a not-so-short list of pregnancy-related conditions that can be life threatening for mom and/or baby: placental abruption, preeclampsia, uterine rupture, postpartum hemorrhage. At the top of the list, though, is a little-understood yet catastrophic complication called amniotic fluid embolus (AFE).
Amniotic fluid embolus occurs when some of the material from the fetus inexplicably enters the maternal bloodstream. Although not completely understood, researchers believe AFE causes two phases of life-threatening complications. In the initial phase, fetal contents enter the mother’s heart and lungs, resulting in obstruction of blood flow into the lungs and problems with oxygen absorption. A reaction similar to anaphylaxis (an allergic reaction) can take place, causing high pressure in the arteries leading to the lungs. Cardiogenic shock, a condition where the heart isn’t strong enough to pump the blood the body needs, can also take place. In the second phase, something called disseminated intravascular coagulation, or DIC, occurs. This complication, which happens in 83 percent of AFE cases, causes the body to consume all of its blood-clotting factors, leading to uncontrollable bleeding.
AFE only occurs in 1 out of 20,000 deliveries (about 200 times annually in the United States), but recent studies suggest at least 30 percent of the time it is fatal for the mother, and only about 15 percent of women who do survive are neurologically intact. Neonatal mortality rates are directly related to how quickly doctors can deliver the baby after the mother goes into cardiac arrest.
Gottesfeld, anesthesiologist Dr. Bruce Lowry, obstetricians Drs. Gerald Zarlengo and Lynette Vialet, and a host of other physicians and nurses knew they had less than five minutes to deliver Smith’s baby. At the same time, they had to save the infant’s mother. A Code Blue had been called over the hospital’s PA system seconds after Smith’s heart stopped. In response, a line of nurses, physician’s assistants, and residents formed to take their turns at two exhausting minutes each of chest compressions before going right back to the end of the queue. Lowry intubated Smith and Gottesfeld began cutting her way into the patient’s uterus. “I can tell you, as a physician, you’re just stunned,” Gottesfeld says. “I was trained for this. I knew what it was. It could’ve been a heart attack or a massive stroke, but it was probably an AFE. And you’re just kind of dazed.”
Less than five minutes later, Gottesfeld delivered a blue and unresponsive nine-pound baby girl, who was immediately intubated. Shortly thereafter, the baby was taken to the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU), where she was placed on a mechanical ventilator and her body temperature cooled to help her brain recover from the lack of oxygen. For the time being, the baby was in serious but stable condition.
The same could not be said of her mother. No one knows why an amniotic fluid embolus happens—there’s no way to predict who might get an AFE—but the doctors at Saint Joseph did know the delivery of the 33-year-old’s baby was only the beginning.

10:31 a.m. until 11:50 a.m.

➥ The next three overhead pages that went out were for a cardiac anesthesiologist, a cardiothoracic surgeon, and a massive blood transfusion protocol. These are not common requests from L&D—so when they do come from the second floor, everyone in the hospital pays attention because it’s clear that something has gone terribly wrong on a floor where things shouldn’t take a tragic turn.
Dr. Peter Hession, a young cardiac anesthesiologist just eight months out of his fellowship, didn’t immediately think AFE when he heard the page he had to respond to. It was high on his list of possible diagnoses, but he’d never actually seen one before.
Fortunately for Smith, Dr. Kevin Miller was more familiar with AFE. A longtime cardiothoracic surgeon, Miller was in the main OR on the first floor just minutes from putting his own patient on bypass when the page for his services squawked overhead. With an anesthetized patient on his table, Miller couldn’t just leave—but when residents from L&D came to beg the doctor to come upstairs, Miller made the decision to leave his patient in the care of other physicians and took some of his team and another heart-lung machine to the second floor.
Saint Joseph’s blood bank received the third call to arms: Smith was going to need a lot of blood and blood products—quickly. The bank readied and sent up eight units of packed red blood cells, and kept them coming.
When Miller got upstairs there were 25 to 30 people in the L&D OR. It was, he thought, a remarkably well-controlled chaos. It had been nearly an hour, but the code team was still in line doing CPR. Although the patient was not responding, doctors were still attempting resuscitation efforts like defibrillation, epinephrine, and amiodarone. Coolers of blood were arriving. People were running back and forth from the OR to the pharmacy and the lab. Hession was getting a transesophageal echocardiogram to confirm the heart was in fact stunned from an AFE and not something else. The patient had begun to bleed from everywhere—the C-section incision, her uterus, the IV sites, her nose, and her mouth. Miller knew he needed to get the woman hooked up to the heart-lung machine posthaste.
To do that, Miller would normally attach the machine through a patient’s aorta, but that procedure requires a sternotomy—a huge incision in the middle of the chest. Smith was already bleeding too much to handle a major surgery; instead, Miller placed the heart-lung machine tubes, called cannulas, into the femoral artery in her leg.
Miller turned the machine on. After an hour and 15 minutes, the chest compressions finally stopped and the OR went quiet. Smith’s heart and lungs didn’t have to struggle to function any longer—the machine was doing all the work. It would simply take time for the organs to recover on their own. Her out-of-control bleeding was now the primary problem.

Early afternoon through late evening
➥ The normal human body contains a little more than five liters of blood. Smith was bleeding so badly that if doctors and nurses had stopped giving her blood products for even a short amount of time, she would’ve died. But blood is a precious—and limited—resource. The blood bank at Saint Joseph only has about 150 units of blood and 120 units of frozen blood products at any given time. Smith was quickly depleting the hospital’s stores. Doctors needed to slow her bleeding.
Gottesfeld reopened Smith and tried to staunch the bleeding in the uterus; the procedure had little effect. Around 2 p.m., they decided to move her to the intensive care unit (ICU), where they would continue their efforts. But after just minutes there, they knew more aggressive treatment was necessary. They took her to the interventional radiology lab to try a procedure called a uterine artery embolization, which they hoped would lessen her bleeding by manually clogging some of the vessels that go to the uterus.
It appeared to be working. Gottesfeld thought they might have turned the corner—until she looked at Smith’s leg. “I’m the gynecologist, but I don’t think this looks right,” Gottesfeld said to her colleagues. Cold and mottled, the patient’s leg was dying: The large tubes from the heart-lung machine were impeding blood flow in Smith’s small artery.
For the second time that day, Miller was stat paged—this time to the radiology department. “I thought about putting the machine into her other leg,” Miller says, “but I was afraid she was already going to lose the first leg. She was still really bleeding but I knew I had to cut her open; I had to do a sternotomy and connect it to her aorta.”
That became the plan. Miller cracked her sternum and placed the heart-lung machine tubes directly into Smith’s heart. At the same time, Gottesfeld had made the decision to do a hysterectomy, and the vascular surgeons would have to repair the artery in Smith’s leg and do a limb-saving surgery called a fasciotomy. All four surgeries happened simultaneously in Saint Joseph’s main OR. More than once during the approximately seven-hour-long surgery, Gottesfeld brought Smith’s husband into the OR to say goodbye. His wife—no matter what they did and no matter that they’d given her more than 200 units of blood—was still bleeding.

Just after midnight, February 11
➥ After hours in the OR, doctors brought Smith to the ICU. They were still putting in blood as fast as they could, and it was coming back out just as quickly. The key to winning the battle against the bleeding caused by DIC is time. Doctors had to keep Smith supplied with blood until her body began to once again produce its own clotting factors, which would slow—and ultimately stop—the bleeding. But that wasn’t happening yet. Smith had received intermittent anesthesia—she had no conscious awareness of what was happening to need it consistently—and it began to concern Hession that she wasn’t at all responsive. He knew the prognosis was becoming more and more grim. Miller agreed. Doctors once again brought Smith’s husband in to say goodbye.
By 2 a.m., the doctors began to discuss whether they’d reached the point of futile care. “We were burning valuable resources,” Miller says. “The blood bank was calling and saying, ‘We’re down to the last units of platelets in town.’ She had endured more than an hour of CPR. We had no idea if her brain and kidneys and other organs had been damaged. We began to wonder if she was even recoverable.”
Miller went into Smith’s ICU room—they were still giving her blood—and walked around her bed. He examined her. He held her hand. He adjusted one of the tubes.
And then she opened her eyes.
“She looked at me,” Miller says. “I knew then we couldn’t stop. She was there. Her brain was there. I was amazed and encouraged. That’s all that it took.”
Gottesfeld brought Smith’s husband and mother back up to the ICU, this time to say hello.
Over the next several hours, Smith began to equilibrate, her bleeding slowed slightly, and knowing his patient was doing well on the heart-lung machine, Miller finally took a nap.

The next 48 hours
➥ The rest of the day on February 11, Smith was kept under anesthesia and remained on the heart-lung machine, which would give her body time to recover. As the day wore on, she required less and less blood.
The next day, Sunday, Miller saw that Smith’s heart and lungs were recovering. That afternoon, Hession, Miller, and a team of vascular and general surgeons took Smith back to the OR, where they removed the heart-lung machine, stopped some bleeding in her belly, performed a follow-up procedure on her leg, washed the excess blood from her abdomen, and took her back to the ICU. She improved. Her heart and lungs were working on their own. Her kidneys, liver, and intestines were functioning well. She was still sedated and intubated, and she was still getting some of the 270 total units of blood products she’d ultimately receive—but her body was experiencing an extraordinary recovery.

February 15
➥ A palpable pulse of energy shook Saint Joseph Hospital on Wednesday when doctors extubated Smith. For six days, everyone who had been involved—directly or indirectly—had been starved for any morsel of information about her progress. The tiniest updates had rippled through the hospital; the possibility that Smith was going to be able to talk was as heartening as finding out days before that her infant daughter had recovered from her nightmarish entry into the world.
Not long after the tube came out of her throat, Smith did indeed begin to talk—and she had a pressing question: “Are we still in network?” In her drug-induced haze, she thought her husband had taken her to a hospital in another city—and she was worried that their insurance would not cover her medical expenses. A sad commentary on the state of America’s health-care system? Maybe. More important, it was a clear sign to the doctors that Smith was neurologically intact.
Then she wanted to know about the baby, who Gottesfeld immediately—and against hospital rules—brought up to see her mother. “I think they could have sold tickets to the one-way show up to the ICU,” A. Smith says. “Our daughter became the princess of Saint Joe’s.”

February 24
➥ Fourteen days after the birth of her daughter, Smith left Saint Joseph. She was still nursing major incisions in her abdomen, chest, and leg; she was on an array of antibiotics and painkillers; and she had a newborn to care for at a time when she felt like she might not ever be able to care for herself again.
Time began to heal her physical wounds. Except for a small infection in her leg and some fluid buildup in her pelvic area, Smith had remarkably few complications considering the extent of her medical crisis. The emotional wounds, however, were harder to deal with. Smith and her husband were both struggling—but in different ways.
Smith missed many of her daughter’s “firsts”—her first feeding, her first diaper change, her first noises, her umbilical cord falling off. She couldn’t care for her daughter without help for many months—and when that time did come it was a very dark day for the new mother. “I felt sad and helpless and, most of all, I felt wronged,” she says. “I kept thinking that I’ll never know what it feels like to give birth or hold my newborn child—because I can’t have another child.”
While Smith battled those thoughts, her husband wrestled with something not unlike post-traumatic stress disorder. He had watched his lifeless daughter be delivered and seen his wife nearly die. He made medical decisions he wasn’t prepared for. Then he had to say goodbye to Smith—more than once. And when they finally got home, he had to care for two people instead of one.
By midsummer, though, Smith was well enough for a mini vacation to Crested Butte, where the family took a hike and where the baby sat up by herself for the first time. Smith says she remembers the day later that summer when she told her husband, “I feel strong.”
Today, a year and a half after that fateful February day, the family is doing well. The scars—physical and emotional—are still there, but they’re fading. The memories, however, are vivid. Smith tells the story about the first time she remembers—really remembers—seeing her daughter. Smith was still in the ICU, but she had left her room to have lunch with her husband and the baby. “She was big and beautiful and felt like a little stranger to me,” Smith says. “I remember thinking in that moment, I went through all of this and you look just like your dad.”

The Top Docs
Kevin Miller
Thoracic and Cardiac Surgery

GeralD V. Zarlengo
Obstetrics and Gynecology

The Widow Maker
A doctor’s heart stops in his own ER.

Enduring an early-morning meeting. Going to the gym. Folding laundry. Taking a shower. These are the little tasks that make up most of our days. We take them for granted because we think we’ll be doing them all over again tomorrow. So, Andy and Kerry Ziller, Denverites who’d been married for 22 years, could’ve been forgiven for their casual approach to a Wednesday morning in April 2012. “I remember we had spent some time online that morning trying to find a replacement for the rubber stopper on our salt shaker,” Andy says. “Really just mundane stuff…until it just came out of the blue.”
And by “it,” he means the pain.
He wasn’t short of breath. The ache was not radiating down his left arm. But located right in the center of his chest was an agonizing spasm. Kerry was upstairs folding laundry, so, thinking it was just a panic attack, Andy tried to relax. He walked around. He got a drink of water. He laid down.
Kerry isn’t sure why she stopped what she was doing mid-task—she thinks maybe she was hungry and ready to grab lunch up the street at Modmarket—but when she came downstairs she could tell immediately that something was wrong with her 54-year-old husband. He was sweaty and couldn’t get comfortable. “I told him we should just go get it checked out at the ER,” Kerry says. “But I guess I didn’t really think it would be anything because I grabbed a bottle of water, a granola bar, and the New York Times crossword puzzle to have in the waiting room.”
As the Zillers drove north on Colorado Boulevard toward the ER at Rose Medical Center, Andy, who initially said they should just go on to lunch, became less and less reluctant about seeing a doctor. The pain was getting worse. So bad, in fact, that Andy called his friend, emergency room doctor Donald Lefkowits, who was working that day. “I called Don and said, ‘I’m coming in,’ ” Andy says. “ ‘I think it’s probably just anxiety, but I’m having chest pain.’ ”
Rose Medical Center’s ER sees an average of 110 patients each day—but Andy Ziller was no average patient. Andy, or more formally, Dr. Andrew Ziller, had been an ER doc at Rose for the previous 20 years and was the president of the medical staff.

The text from Lefkowits came through to Andy’s iPhone just seconds after they had finished talking. The Zillers were still a mile or two away. It read: Bed 2 is waiting. Just walk right in.
Andy didn’t have to walk very far once Kerry turned into the small ER parking lot: It was a quiet day in the emergency department, so Lefkowits had decided to meet Andy outside. Andy got out of the car and the longtime colleagues entered the ER together. Within minutes, a tech had hooked up the electrocardiogram (EKG) to Andy, who snuck a peek at the reading as it rolled off the machine. Before Lefkowits could look at the EKG himself, Andy knew it was bad. He had recognized what doctors often call “tombstones”: EKG readings that portend a massive heart attack. Lefkowits told Andy he was calling a cardiac alert—the emergency protocol for managing a heart attack across multiple hospital departments—a fact that made Andy think to himself: You’re not telling me anything I don’t know, and, yeah, you’d better be calling a cardiac alert.
Eight minutes after Andy walked into the ER, his heart stopped.
Although he could barely believe what was happening to his friend, Lefkowits delivered a precordial thump—essentially a carefully aimed blow to the chest—to try to interrupt Andy’s ventricular fibrillation, an abnormal heart rhythm. Then they tried to shock him—but the machine didn’t fire. A tech began CPR while cardiologist Dr. Vijay Subbarao, who had responded to the cardiac alert, connected what ended up being a missing adapter. It took two shocks to convert Andy’s heart back to a normal rhythm. Seeing the alarm on Lefkowits’ face, one of his colleagues offered to intubate Andy. “I could have done it,” Lefkowits says. “I’ve done it a million times but I just kept saying, ‘No way, no way, this can’t be happening.’ ”

A coronary angiogram—a test that uses dye and special X-rays to see the heart’s arteries—administered by Subbarao showed that Andy’s heart was experiencing a worst-case scenario. Although there was only one clog in his heart, the left anterior descending artery was completely blocked at the most critical juncture. Most people know this particular occlusion as the “widow maker.”
Using the angiogram as a guide, interventional cardiologist Dr. Michael Wahl threaded a catheter through Andy’s groin and up into his heart, where he expanded a small balloon to open the blockage and then placed a stent to keep the artery open permanently. It had taken less than 45 minutes from “door to balloon,” an important time frame that quantifies how long it takes from the time a patient enters the hospital until the obstruction is opened in the cath lab and blood is flowing. The national standard is 90 minutes or less.
After the procedure, Andy’s heart was weak—only squeezing at a little more than half its typical strength—but it appeared the muscle was mostly undamaged. Once the obstruction was removed, his heart began to recover. That left only one unknown: how Andy’s brain had fared.
To make sure they saved as many brain cells as they could, Dr. Michael Schwartz, the ICU attending, conferenced with Lefkowits and Subbarao to determine if therapeutic hypothermia might be a reasonable course of action. Therapeutic hypothermia—a treatment that brings a patient’s body temperature down to about 91.4 degrees—has been shown to improve neurological outcomes after cardiac arrest. “He was out long enough after he arrested,” Lefkowits explains, “that we all thought hypothermia was warranted. But that was hard for us because it takes 24 hours of keeping a patient sedated, and we just wanted to see Andy wake up and be Andy.”
Watching her husband be “cooled” by a special jacket and be deprived of blankets and clothing was difficult for Kerry. “I just kept asking them if we could at least put a sheet on him,” she says. The answer, of course, was no—but Kerry knew there was a medical method to what seemed like madness. And that was evident Friday morning when doctors allowed Andy to wake up.
“My first conscious thought was that I was at home in bed,” Andy says, “and as I reached out to touch my wife who would normally be sleeping next to me I hit the bar of the hospital bed. And then the memory hit me: Oh yeah, I had a heart attack.”
Andy was still intubated when he first awoke so he couldn’t talk, but he motioned for a piece of paper to write on. The first word he wrote: “Stent?” The second thing he wanted to know was his ejection fraction, which is medical terminology for how well the heart is squeezing blood. And lastly, he wanted someone to call Kerry and tell her that he loved her. “Andy was very dialed in,” Schwartz says. “He was ‘all there,’ and it was very cool to see.”
Two days later, Andy walked out of the hospital through his own ER, having escaped death in the very same building in which he had been born. About six weeks later, he was back at Rose for his normal shifts. Today, the doctor has no lingering effects from the heart attack. “We take great care of everyone,” Schwartz says. “We apply the same level of care to a homeless guy, a board member, or a colleague. But Andy is loved here, and he really did ride on that wave of love.”

The Top Docs

Dr. Andrew Ziller
Emergency Medicine

Dr. Vijay Subbarao
Cardiovascular Disease

Dr. Donald J. Lefkowits
Emergency Medicine

Dr. Michael D. Schwartz
Critical Care Medicine

Paralyzed
Bacteria living in the most innocuous place almost end a young life.

 

Parents have gut feelings about their kids. They know when the house has suddenly become too quiet. They can hear a middle-of-the-night cry before it comes. And they’re able to tell when what looks like a run-of-the-mill cold is something much more sinister.
Kari and Brian Hinkel experienced what many people call a parent’s intuition this past January 1 when their five-month-old daughter, Keona, seemed crabby, was sleeping more than usual, and wasn’t eating well. To anyone else, these symptoms probably would’ve seemed less than alarming—and Kari admits she initially thought Keona had a head cold that was making her sluggish and making it difficult for her to breathe and breast-feed at the same time. She and Brian tried a few things: They put some saline solution in Keona’s nose, spoon-fed her some milk, and took a warm shower with her to see if the humidity would loosen her congestion. But less than 24 hours after her first symptoms, their daughter seemed to be getting worse. Kari knew something was wrong. The pretty, blue-eyed infant seemed like she wanted to eat, but couldn’t suck hard enough to breast-feed; she was becoming dehydrated; and she could barely keep her eyes open. They went to see the pediatrician, who told them to go to the ER.
At Sky Ridge Medical Center, ER docs asked the Hinkels patient history questions, took a look at Keona, and ran a few tests. They agreed that something wasn’t right, but they weren’t sure what it was. Then, without warning, Keona stopped breathing.

Sky Ridge physicians swiftly intubated the baby and then made the decision to fly her via helicopter to Rocky Mountain Hospital for Children (RMHC) at Presbyterian/St. Luke’s Medical Center in Uptown. In a state of shock, the Hinkels drove from Highlands Ranch to be with Keona in the ICU. Doctors at RMHC began a broad workup on the five-month-old, who was becoming weaker by the hour. Her eyes weren’t opening at all and she wasn’t moving. Doctors did an EEG and an MRI. They considered poisoning, seizures, and infections. But it wasn’t until one of the RMHC pediatric intensive care physicians, Dr. Jennifer Snow, consulted Dr. Benjamin Ross, a neurologist with special qualifications in child neurology, that a diagnosis began to take shape.
“I brought up infant botulism,” Ross says. “There’s a book of weird, rare diseases that it’s my job to know about—but I’ve actually seen infant botulism before. And this fit.” Common symptoms of this relatively uncommon paralytic illness—it’s seen about 90 times annually in the United States—are constipation, poor feeding, ptosis (eyelid droop), poor muscle tone, and lethargy. Infant botulism is caused when children younger than one consume spores of the botulinum bacterium, which are most often found in poorly oxygenated soil as well as in a household product nearly everyone has in the pantry: honey.
When children and adults get food-borne botulism, the result is usually a bout of unpleasant—but eminently survivable—food poisoning. But when an infant ingests the spores of Clostridium botulinum, the bacteria colonize a baby’s immature large intestine and produce a toxin that blocks the link between nerves and muscles. Essentially, the toxin creates a paralysis that begins at the head and moves its way down the body, sometimes causing babies to stop breathing. The fact that many physicians have never seen a case of infant botulism—which can be a contributing factor in a slow diagnosis—makes this a life-threatening situation.
In Keona’s case, the illness moved quickly—and she was fortunate her parents had followed their instincts. After all, there’s no better place to stop breathing than an emergency room. She was also lucky that Ross had seen infant botulism before. But that didn’t mean Keona would get better right away. Not only is the illness difficult to diagnose, it’s also challenging to confirm—and it’s even trickier to secure the medication needed to treat it.
For this part of the tag-team effort, Ross called upon RMHC infectious disease doctor Wendi Drummond. “It’s not a benign undertaking to diagnose and treat infant botulism,” Drummond says. “The treatment costs $45,000, there’s only one place we can get the antitoxin, and because there is a limited quantity of the medication, we have to be able to reasonably ‘prove’ we have the correct diagnosis before we can secure it.”

Lab results to verify infant botulism can take as long as a week. Clearly, that time frame was not ideal for a five-month-old on life support. She needed the antitoxin as soon as possible. Instead of waiting, Drummond set out to anecdotally confirm that Keona had somehow been exposed to botulism bacteria spores. “The patient history is critical in this situation,” Drummond explains. “I had to interview the baby’s mom.”
That, of course, is not an easy undertaking when a mother is as traumatized as 28-year-old Kari Hinkel had every right to be. But after asking Kari to think about what the family had done in previous weeks; what she had cooked for dinner; and whether she kept honey in the pantry, Drummond thought she had a plausible exposure scenario. The family had recently used honey to sweeten tea and Kari had also used it in a recipe just days before. It was possible Keona had somehow licked an errantly sticky finger.
Dr. Drummond hoped the information would be enough to acquire BabyBIG, the antitoxin, from the only place it was available: the California Department of Public Health Services’ Infant Botulism Treatment and Prevention Program. After a lot of paperwork and several in-depth phone calls—all of which took her nearly five hours to complete on the morning of January 4—Drummond had guaranteed that Keona would be getting the drug she needed. The medication arrived via commercial jet about seven hours later and was infused into Keona’s IV just two hours after that. Less than 48 hours after receiving BabyBIG, Keona began to move her legs and then her arms.
The Hinkels spent five weeks in the hospital. Keona was on a ventilator for 22 days before her body was strong enough to breathe on its own. The toxin that coursed through her system reverted her muscle tone back to that of a newborn. But after physical therapy, Keona began rolling over, sitting up, and, earlier this summer, crawling. She will celebrate her first birthday this month.

The Top Docs

Dr. Benjamin A. Ross
Child Neurology

Dr. Wendi Drummond
Pediatric Infectious Disease

Freak Accident
A day at the lake ends at the Denver Clinic for Extremities at Risk.

The Front Range isn’t particularly well-known for its lake culture, but on a sunny day in August 2003, 10-year-old Jaime Culley was enjoying a carefree day on Boyd Lake near Loveland. She, her friend, and Jaime’s dad, who was driving, were zipping across the lake on their Jet Ski, heading back from the lake’s tubing area. It was the quintessential end-of-summer day for a kid who was excited about her upcoming birthday and the first day of sixth grade.
As the trio skimmed the surface, their faces wet from spray, the Jet Ski encountered a heavy wake and a gust of wind. The unexpected jolt caused Jaime to lose her balance, and she quickly found herself taking a swim. Jaime had been carrying the group’s inner tube as they crossed the water. When she fell backward, the tube and the rope attached to it came with her. Jaime’s dad realized his daughter had come off the watercraft and let go of the gas. What none of them comprehended, though, was that Jaime’s hand had become tightly tangled in the rope, which was attached to the Jet Ski at the other end. Before anyone could grasp the situation, the forward momentum of the Jet Ski pulled the rope taut—and with it came Jaime’s left hand, which was completely severed at the wrist.

It was a devastating injury, one that the team of physicians at Loveland’s McKee Medical Center was not equipped to repair. Their recommended course of action was to clean the wound and leave Jaime with a stump. But a nurse had seen a poster for a program she thought might be worth checking into first: the Denver Clinic for Extremities at Risk.
The name is a mouthful, but the Presbyterian/St. Luke’s Medical Center–based team of medical professionals has been managing diseases and conditions that place people at risk of losing a hand, foot, leg, or finger for 27 years. It is one of the few clinics of its kind in the country, and people from all over come to see its doctors for limb-threatening diseases like bone cancer or after accidents involving lawn mowers, chain saws, snowblowers, gas explosions, military injuries, and, like Jaime, ugly encounters with ropes.
Dr. William Brown, a plastic surgeon who’s been with the Extremities at Risk team since 1991, met Jaime shortly after she arrived in Denver via air ambulance. Certified in hand surgery and self-taught in microsurgery, about 30 percent of Brown’s patient load sees him not for cosmetic purposes but for reconstructive procedures. “Jaime was medically stable when she reached us,” Brown says, “but she had a significant injury, a life-changing injury. I was limited in what I could do for her, but I believe any replant you can do in a child is worth doing.” That meant Brown wanted to try to reattach Jaime’s hand. Fortunately, the “part,” as Brown calls it, had not sunk to the bottom of Boyd Lake and had instead remained lodged in the inner tube roping. Jaime’s hand had traveled with her to Denver.
During a six-hour surgery that same day, Brown did what he could for Jaime. He attached bones with pins; he re-established blood flow by repairing arteries and veins; and he hooked up as many tendons and nerves as he could. Although he was doing his best to ensure the operation was successful, Brown knew this would not be Jaime’s only surgery. “She was not ever going to have full range of motion,” Brown says. “But with some tendon transfers and nerve grafts at a later date, I thought we could give her a good helper hand.”

This month marks the 10-year anniversary of that day on the lake for Jaime. In that time she has endured five major surgeries, a handful of smaller procedures, and a lot of physical therapy. Her left hand is not normal, but she has better-than-expected function, which she learned how to use well enough to do all the things she ever wanted to do. Her thumb doesn’t function as well as she’d like; her fingers can’t extend as well as they retract; and she cannot bend them at the outermost knuckles or move them independently. “I never really let it stop me,” she says. “I just kept playing like kids do.”
Of course, Jaime remembers the accident well. She recalls her father holding it together admirably in the moment—flagging down a nearby patrol boat for help—but then falling apart later on. She remembers seeing the mangled mess that was her arm. And she remembers that she didn’t feel much pain. She also remembers exactly what she thought when she first realized her hand was gone. “I was getting ready to go into the sixth grade,” she says, “and I remember immediately worrying about how I was going to have to learn how to write with my right hand because I had been left-handed.”
Today, Jaime calls Brown when she has concerns about her hand. But most of the time, she doesn’t think about it. She’s busy being a psychology student at Colorado State University. She’s considering nursing school after graduation and maybe training to be a flight nurse. “If I could make someone else feel better in a situation similar to mine,” she says, “I think that would feel really good.”

The Top Doc

Dr. William C. Brown
Plastic Surgery

The Power of Observation
With one look, a Denver doc knew this much for sure: His patient needed surgery—immediately.

There’s a grossly callous phrase in medicine that nearly every doctor knows and uses in the company of other doctors: “circling the drain.” Used in context, it means that a patient is rapidly declining and, despite best efforts to save him, he may not live much longer. Sometimes, when the deterioration is related to old age or a longtime terminal illness, the body’s failure to thrive is normal, understandable, and even merciful. But when an otherwise healthy young man looks like he’s circling the drain—and for unknown reasons—that is anything but routine.
Dr. David Longcope, a colon and rectal surgeon at Rose Medical Center, remembers well walking into Jeff Lindquist’s room on March 20, 2008. The 38-year-old Fort Collins resident had just been transferred to Rose via ambulance after spending a week at another Colorado-based medical center. His breathing was rapid and shallow. He was jaundiced. He couldn’t move. He had searing pain in his abdomen. And he was in and out of consciousness.
The doctor had been called in to consult on the patient by colleague Dr. Jonathan P. Fishman, a gastroenterologist who knew a bit more about Lindquist’s case. Normally, Longcope would have spent time taking a patient history, running some tests, and discussing the case in detail with Fishman. Instead, Longcope took one long look and decided Lindquist didn’t have that kind of time. “I essentially had to walk up to him and his family,” Longcope says, “and say, ‘I know you don’t know me, but I need to operate on you. Now.’ ”

Until a week before he ended up at Rose Medical Center, Jeff Lindquist had been a relatively active person who liked to play tennis, golf, ski, and goof around with his one-year-old daughter. He’d had some health issues; he was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis—an inflammatory disease of the large intestine—in the mid-’90s and had surgery related to that in 2003. A couple of years later, Lindquist was rediagnosed as actually having Crohn’s disease—not ulcerative colitis—by Fishman. The Denver gastroenterologist had put Lindquist on Remicade, a drug known to help with the symptoms of Crohn’s, which is an inflammation of the gastrointestinal tract that usually affects the small intestine. Lindquist had been doing well on the drug until one morning in March 2008, when the Fort Collins man bent down to pick up his daughter. “If felt like someone stabbed me in my back,” Lindquist says. “By noon that day I was doubled over in pain.” He went to the local urgent care center, where they told him to go to the hospital.
Lindquist says he doesn’t remember much after that. In fact, he has very little memory of the following six weeks. But he knows that he spent a week in the hospital, where doctors had trouble diagnosing his condition and were reluctant to do surgery, before his physician father had him transferred to Rose Medical Center.
Although the memory is hazy, Lindquist says he remembers seeing Fishman and recalls Longcope coming to see him. “I remember Dr. Fishman’s face,” Lindquist says. “He looked very serious. He and Dr. Longcope talked for a few minutes about 10 feet away from my bed. I couldn’t hear them. But then Dr. Longcope came over and said he was going to do surgery. And he was taking me right then.”

Within two hours, Longcope had his patient in the OR and began operating. What he found inside Lindquist was unlike anything he’d seen in 14 years of doing surgery. “There was two feet of black, dead, liquefied bowel,” the doctor says. “I’ve never seen that before, because a person is usually dead before that can happen.”
Longcope vacuumed out the dead intestine—likely the result of the bowel kinking on itself, which was what caused Lindquist’s stabbing pain—doing his best to clean out what he knew could be infection-causing material. He gave Lindquist a temporary small bowel stoma—a procedure in which the remaining healthy bowel is affixed to an incision in the abdomen and a tethered plastic bag serves as a reservoir for waste—which would allow his patient’s gastrointestinal tract to begin to recover. The surgery was successful, but Lindquist spent about a week in the ICU on a bevy of medications meant to stave off infection.
At home, the recovery was slow. Although Lindquist had to be treated for an infection postoperatively, he knows he was lucky. Lucky his dad moved him to Rose and fortunate that Fishman and Longcope were there. “Had I not gotten there when I did,” Lindquist says, “I wouldn’t have lived. Had the doctor waited to do surgery, I wouldn’t have lived.”
Five years later, Lindquist is still dealing with Crohn’s disease, but he is grateful for Longcope’s quick actions. “I think of those doctors a lot,” Lindquist says. “I think of them when I see my scars and when I can go skiing and, most important, when I see my son, who we were able to have because they saved my life.”

The Top Docs

Dr. David C. Longcope
Colon and Rectal Surgery

Dr. Jonathan P. Fishman
Gastroenterology


Family Style

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A Denver interior designer embraces whimsy to create a kid-friendly, but sophisticated home.

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A Denver interior designer embraces whimsy to create a kid-friendly—but still sophisticated—home.

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Four years ago, interior designer Petra Richards found herself in a less-than-ideal living situation: Her townhouse in Cherry Creek was quickly filling with artwork from her travels and the goods needed to raise two young children, but the family didn’t have any outdoor space for the kids to run. So when a friend announced his family was moving overseas and their five-bedroom Belcaro home—complete with a backyard, several patios, a garden, a swing set, and a kids’ clubhouse—would be available to rent, Richards and her husband started packing.

The white brick home is a fortress of right angles and black steel-frame windows that belie a warm, colorful interior. Richards refers to it as an “international-style” house—appropriate for someone who was born in Germany, lived in Barcelona, Milan, and New York City, and studied interior design in London. There was, however, a challenge to moving in. Although the home’s outdoor space was a godsend, it was a rental and came with owner-mandated boundaries (such as paint colors and built-in structures). 

Richards’ task, then, was threefold: Make the home as kid-friendly as possible while incorporating her love of foreign decor pieces, all within the constraints of what already existed and couldn’t be altered. 
Fortunately, Richards has the design chops to do exactly that. She has a penchant for high-end designer Christian Liaigre (available at John Brooks), whose anchor pieces—a coffee table, bedroom sofas, an office desk—are sprinkled throughout the home, and a knack for finding the perfect accent items at stores like Mod Livin’ and Bloom by Anuschka. “I like bringing worlds together,” she says, surveying her eclectic living room landscape. “These objects are from all over the world. There’s no strategy…it’s all intuitive.”

If there were a strategy, it would be simply to have fun. While the backyard was already equipped for Richards’ children—Soleil, 8, and Jasper, 6—with a gingerbread-esque clubhouse and a grassy expanse of lawn, Richards set to work on making the inside a place where the whole family could feel comfortable. 

The living room is both a collage of conversation pieces and artwork acquired during Richards’ travels and a true living space for Soleil and Jasper, who are more partial to the fort-making potential of sofas and pillows than their aesthetics. With the kids’ comfort in mind, Richards accented the room with touches like miniature Chinese stools (a one-of-a-kind Scandinavian Antiques find) and fabric poufs that transform the Christian Liaigre coffee table into a pint-size place to eat. Everything down to the pillows reflects Richards’ whimsical style. “Whenever I see a fabric that strikes me,” she says, “I’ll have some pillows made from it.” 

Whimsy is a design philosophy she’s carried throughout the home. The dining room began as a neutral canvas; Richards brought the space to life with the addition of colorful mismatched chairs from Mod Livin’, eye-catching floral curtains from Ikea, and a red Chinese accent table. By finishing the room with contemporary, playful paintings—artist Robert C. Jackson is known for his depictions of balloon animals—Richards infused the room with an appealing youthful energy. 

The same can be said of the patio spaces, which create an expanse of white space next to the house’s facade. Richards worked with what she had to soften the stark canvas and furnished the patio with splashes of bright color and funky, modern pieces by Philippe Starck, Frank Gehry for Heller, and Lisa Albin for Offi. “We integrate fun into our daily way of living,” Richards says of her style. “It’s very playful and colorful; an eclectic, child-oriented approach.”

 

Casa Moderna

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Classic architecture mixed with contemporary design transforms this Denver 1920s Spanish Colonial.

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Classic architecture mixed with modern design transforms this Denver 1920s Spanish Colonial.

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When the eventual homeowners first laid eyes on this then-overgrown, 1920s Spanish Colonial in Denver Country Club, they had visions of restoring the house to its former glory. They’d strip away incongruous 1970s-era additions and reintroduce Moorish finishes and fixtures. Architect Carlos Alvarez had another idea.

Alvarez, founder of Denver- and Bilbao, Spain–based AlvarezMorris Architectural Studio, believed that a run-of-the-mill restoration wouldn’t cut it. “In America, people often want to make their home look like an old home—a Tudor, a Colonial—while in Europe, the approach with architecture tends to be much more honest with the time,” he says. “Europeans don’t shy away from giving 15th-century buildings supermodern interiors. With this project, we decided to take a softer version of that European approach, leaving the exterior intact and then building a modern mirror image of it with an addition.”

Welcome to the next wave of historic restoration, an approach that marries a home’s history with contemporary design ideas to create a space that feels both fresh and storied. In this case, Alvarez and his wife and business partner, Carolyn Morris, an interior designer, worked to meld the home’s Spanish Colonial–style with modern materials, floor plans, and finishes. The result reveals and restores the original home’s bones but contrasts them with right-angled, steel-structured additions and contemporary interiors.

In the living room, the design team removed heavy, textured plaster from the walls and refinished the red-stained floors in ebony, creating a high-contrast envelope that adds a modern vibe to the existing wooden beams and Mediterranean-rustic pendant lights.

The team relocated the kitchen to the true heart of the home, where it unites the original house and the 1,200-square-foot addition. “Because it’s literally the intersection between the old and the new, it’s about as modern as it can be,” Alvarez says. Bulthaup cabinets—synonymous with modern European efficiency—complement the Carrera-topped island, constructed with waterfall edges to highlight its angularity. And on the floors in the kitchen, Alvarez and his team laid concrete tiles. While they look modern, the tiles actually hail from historic Spanish homes, so “they unify the old and the new,” the architect says.

The kitchen’s floor-to-ceiling glass doors open to the backyard, creating an easy indoor-outdoor vibe that is as fitting for Colorado as it would be on the Spanish Mediterranean coast. In the courtyard, a 16-foot-long dining table is a perfect reason to dine alfresco; it’s a study in streamlined simplicity that’s echoed in the courtyard’s steel-framed pergolas and slat-fenced walls.

“In each space of the house, one style has to be more powerful than the other,” Alvarez says. “In the front of the house, the old style is stronger and the modern aspects are minimal, serving as kind of the stitching to tie the design together. In the courtyard, all of the details are steel and it’s 75 percent modern, 25 percent Colonial. The Colonial is the backdrop.”

And that was the key to modernizing this historic home, Alvarez says: The old and the new couldn’t be evenly weighted. Instead, they were woven together, with elements of one bringing substance to the other. If done right, Alvarez says, “taking something old and bringing modern life to it—the contrast of the two ideas—can make both better.”

All Together Now

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A historic farmhouse is perfect for entertaining thanks to a thoughtful, hands-on renovation.

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A historic Observatory Park farmhouse is perfect for entertaining thanks to a thoughtful, hands-on renovation.

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To call Eliza Prall’s Observatory Park home a labor of love is a bit like calling the Great Pyramids a little construction project. She bought the corner-lot fixer-upper in 2006. And with the help of her partner, Bill Carleton, she spent the next four years transforming—often by hand—the quaint three-bedroom farmhouse into a 4,200-square-foot ode to entertaining, complete with a magnificent kitchen and patio, both of which practically beg for a party.


“I looked at 60 houses before I found this one,” says Prall, who owns Prall Marketing and co-runs a party supply site, called theentertaining
shoppe.com, on the side. “The bones were so perfect. But as charming as it was, it didn’t have some of the living spaces I wanted.”
That’s putting it mildly. Prall and Carleton spent three months (pre move-in) rewiring, replumbing, and replastering the outdated house, which had only two other owners since it was built in 1910. “There was dated wallpaper everywhere, the original knob-and-tube wiring, and avocado appliances in the kitchen,” Carleton recalls.

Even after some renovation, the home’s original 1,950 square feet and one-and-a-half bathrooms were a tight squeeze for the pair, Prall’s two younger sons, a dog, a cat, and Carleton’s teenage daughters (one in college who would visit on breaks). Prall describes the master bedroom as a maze of closet rods and shelves with the bed in the middle. “We’d lie in bed and decide what we were going to wear that day,” she jokes.

They’d also lie there dreaming about the addition they planned. (When Prall bought the house, her L.A.-based architect sister, Becky Casey, sketched a floor plan that included an addition.) In 2009, they were ready to realize that dream.

The couple enlisted the aid of a local architect to translate Casey’s initial drawings into actual plans. But, as sometimes happens with remodels, visions weren’t aligning. Over dinner one night with family friend (and celebrated Denver architect) Sarah Semple Brown, the couple mentioned their project. “I looked at the plans and went, ‘Oh my God. This does not make sense,’ ” says Brown, principal at Semple Brown Design. “Something just got lost in translation between Becky and this architect. So I said, ‘We’re going to need to intervene.’ ”

That “something” was the importance of scale, flow, and preserving the character of the house. “We didn’t want to create some major monstrosity in the neighborhood,” Carleton notes.
The addition called for what was, in comparison to the original structure’s small rooms, a spacious kitchen. To keep the scale on par with the rest of the home, the trio kept the ceilings fairly low, at eight and a half feet, paneled the ceilings, and divided up the space with two small islands capped in Carrera marble and a 10-by-3 foot Restoration Hardware kitchen table, creating small gathering areas within a large one. The cabinets and custom-built bookcase, painted a warm shade of gray, further cozy up the space’s many stainless steel surfaces.

Prall and Carleton helped map out every detail, from the fixtures to the dimensions and alignment of the cabinets. “Every night for a year, we’d sit down to look at things or sketch them out,” Prall says. “We didn’t go to the movies or read a book for a year. That’s probably not recommended for most new couples, but it worked for us.”

Brown was also able to preserve the bones of the former kitchen as part of what Prall and Carleton affectionately call “the knuckle”—a butler pantry/bar that houses a wine fridge Carleton snagged from a contractor connection for a fraction of its original cost. “That’s where the transition happens between the existing house and the new house,” Brown says. “Once you’ve made that transition, the bigger kitchen works.”

Of tantamount importance is what Prall describes as “flow.” Prall, who grew up in a Cincinnati home that was “party central” (think facing baby grand pianos), wanted to make sure the addition would allow for easy circulation during gatherings. “The design is half driven from my phobic past,” she quips. “I often got cornered in a room during parties, so every room had to have two exits.” The kitchen has seven: one entrance to the hall, one to an office, two passageways to the old house (the living room and the knuckle), and three sets of glass doors that open up to a wraparound porch, a beautiful second living room with brick walls and real wood flooring. (“Composite feels different,” says Prall.)

“The patio is its own room, but it’s very connected to the kitchen so there’s this expansion of the space,” Brown notes of her favorite rooms. “Especially in the summertime, there’s just such an easy flow between the two. It’s intuitive and not forced.”

The flexible space has given Prall and Carleton the ability to host festivities of almost every size: from 16-person dinner parties to holiday gatherings of 150 (really). The couple even opened their doors to be part of the University Park Home Tour earlier this year. It’s a role Prall relishes.
When the couple finally moved back into their new-old home in December 2010, after five-and-a-half months spent in a tiny rental down the street, the first thing they did was stash away the boxes and throw a celebratory feast.

Brown, of course, was one of the guests. “I think we sat 16 people,” Prall recalls. “It’s easy in this house, and we felt like we couldn’t have included enough people. It was the perfect way to celebrate a long, but rewarding, process.”

 

 

 

 

 

Resurrection

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Issue reference: 
Intro: 

Robert “Rider” Dewey spent 17 years in prison for a rape and murder he did not commit.

Deck: 

Robert “Rider” Dewey spent 17 long years in prison for a rape and murder he did not commit. During that time, he endured constant legal setbacks and personal tragedies. This is how he made it to the other side.

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There are no colors in prison. Almost everything is gray and grim, metal or concrete. Rough edges are left unsmoothed. A cement cell at the Limon Correctional Facility is less than seven feet wide by 12 feet long. If you reach your arms out, you can almost touch both sides of the narrow rectangle at once. You can’t pace in it. A steely toilet sits on one side of the room. A cot rests against the back wall beneath a narrow sliver of bulletproof glass. At night, far away, you can see the lights of civilization casting off an illuminated haze, a constant reminder that somewhere out there, just out of reach, life is happening. On the right side of the cell is a small metal platform that serves as a desk. It’s a place to write letters to your son, a teenager who’ll be a grown man long before you’re out; to your mother, who has never once doubted and never will doubt your innocence; to your wife, who’ll leave you long before this is all over. With a life sentence, time stops. Minutes feel like an eternity. Everything operates on the same rigid schedule: roll call. Breakfast. Work. Lockdown. Roll call. Lunch. Recreation. Cell time. Dinner. Roll call. It’s always the same—unless a fight breaks out. You walk into the chow hall and the violence just erupts. Prisoners scrap in fiery and glorious ways, using whatever weapons they can smuggle in or fashion. A shank can be made out of anything. Aluminum bars bracing a speaker? Rip them off, smash the ends, file ’em sharp: Voilà, a shank. Rapists are often the most targeted and tormented of all inmates, other than child molesters, and have to constantly watch for people who might want to attack them. Your name is Robert Dewey, and on October 16, 1996, you were found guilty of rape and murder. Natural life is your sentence. How will you survive?

•Kansas, 1964 Shortly before his fourth birthday, with the sun blazing down on the endless plains, Robert Dewey watched a family friend ride a Harley down the highway like a surfboard, one foot on the handlebars and one on the seat. The young Dewey could barely contain himself. Motorcycles! He had to have one. It would be an anxious nine years before he received his first, a Benelli 125. From then on, he always thought of himself as “Rider.” His mother, Donna Weston, sweet and God-fearing, remembers her young son as polite and considerate but hyperactive. “Rebellious” may be more accurate. Rider’s idol growing up was Evel Knievel. He’d heard the renowned daredevil ran away from home some 50 times as a kid. Rider tried to best Knievel’s record and nearly succeeded. He would hit the road for increasingly lengthy jaunts on his motorcycle. During these outlaw forays, he discovered expansive highways, the vast American landscape, and the strongest feelings of peace he’d ever known. He eventually dropped out of high school, left home for good, and fully immersed himself in a biker culture that led to drugs—and occasional run-ins with the law.

His first marriage, to Cindy Flenker, was brief. They had a son in June 1979: Shawn Michael Dewey. But the marriage withered. Cindy had ideas of how to raise their child that didn’t include Rider. When she left, he sought refuge on his Harley and in the places it could take him. Although he developed an on-and-off drug habit, he also remarried. He and his new wife, Barbara Barnes, toured 27 states during a year of uninhibited meandering that culminated in Mesa County, Colorado, a few months before the death of a 19-year-old woman named Jacie Taylor.

June 3, 1994 According to police and court transcripts and official testimony, Jacie Taylor was attacked in her living room, somewhere by the couch, likely with fists. A man entered her two-story apartment at 855 Inness Court in Palisade and beat her over and over. His manic pounding sent droplets of her blood spattering across the wall and onto the blue and white blanket rumpled on the sofa. Taylor chipped her fingernails, apparently trying to claw herself away as the man tore off her pants. He eventually wrapped a pink dog leash around her neck and pulled it taut, not for seconds, but for minutes. Once her fight had dissolved, the killer carried Taylor upstairs. Blood dotted the steps leading to the bathroom where he laid her in the tub. He turned on the faucet and, presumably trying to erase evidence, inserted several pieces of soap inside her vagina. He left two mementos resting just below her navel: a small brown pebble and a silver ring adorned with two hearts. Taylor was found the next day, nude from the waist down, face up in a tub of red-hued water.

By midmorning, Inness Court—a block of ragged apartments the meth crowd had claimed as its own—was swarming with neighbors gawking from behind yellow police tape. Palisade police officers arrived first and were soon joined by a Mesa County Sheriff’s Office investigator; Gil Stone, the chief investigator at the county district attorney’s office; and a lab tech named Joe Snyder. Snyder, an expert in blood analysis who was once employed by the Colorado Bureau of Investigation (CBI), aided law enforcement officials with investigations and crime scene analysis. In Taylor’s apartment he found medium velocity blood spatter—the result of an already bloody surface being struck with a hard object—on pizza boxes in her living room, on the blanket, and on the sofa and the wall behind it. Snyder noticed blood leading up the stairs. In the bathroom, a bloody palm print darkened a wall near the shower. In Grand Junction, Dr. Robert Kurtzman performed the autopsy. Skin matter from Taylor’s attacker was lodged beneath her fingernails. One of the soap pieces inside her bore a surprise: a clear thumbprint. Kurtzman sent his findings to CBI for analysis. Inconsistent testimony hindered the investigation from the start. A snuff film was rumored to be circulating, but even after digging underneath a trailer where it was supposedly hidden and questioning people who’d heard of it, the video never surfaced. Nearly everyone in this fringe group had a rap sheet thick with drug- and assault-related charges, and many were quick to join a smear campaign so long as it pointed away from their own crimes.

There was but one consistency: a guy a lot of people were talking about. New in town. Biker type. Shifty. With few leads and no witnesses, Palisade police chief Greg Kuhn kept his eye out for the man they called Rider. He had a medium build; long, brown hair woven into a ponytail; and a universe of prison ink, mostly of the skull-and-chaos variety, winding around his arms and upper body.

June 6, 1994 Rider was at the C & F convenience store in Palisade when Kuhn first spotted him. “You resemble a guy named Rider,” Kuhn said. “Do you go by that name?” Rider had resumed using speed, and the drug magnified his paranoia over a recent incident. When a Grand Junction couple refused to pay him for engine work he’d done, he stole their Colt .45 handgun as collateral and split to Palisade to hide out. He couldn’t have picked a worse place to stay: on the couch of an Inness Court apartment with his friend Don “Mad Dog” Mallow and Mad Dog’s girlfriend, Dulcie Newland, just a few doors down from Jacie Taylor. Rider had arrived about a week before her death, looking for a place to crash after a series of fights with his wife. Rider knew Kuhn had questions about Taylor. That was fine. What bothered him was the warrant for stealing the Colt .45. If Kuhn discovered his identity, Rider was sure he’d be charged as a previous drug offender in possession of a firearm, a crime that could carry at least a one-year sentence. “No,” he lied. “Don’t know no Rider.” “What is your name?” “Mike Powl.” “How about you come down to the station later so we can talk about what’s going on?” Kuhn said. “Sure.” That afternoon, Rider met Kuhn at the Palisade Police Department. He provided the same bogus name, this time with a fake birth date and social security number, and claimed his identification had been stolen. “How do you know Jacie?” Kuhn asked. “What were you doing on Friday?” That, Rider could explain. It hadn’t yet crossed his mind that he was a suspect in her murder. He had been at Taylor’s earlier in the day looking for Sam Mallow, Mad Dog’s sister, who had a prison record and had been staying with Taylor. Rider thought Sam might have had speed, but she was tapped. He spent the afternoon at Mad Dog’s and returned to Taylor’s at 8 that night. Sam still didn’t have the drugs, so he retreated to Mad Dog’s place and didn’t leave again until the next morning. Kuhn asked about a homemade bandage on Rider’s arm. Rider had been scratching himself raw because of the speed, but he claimed the bandage was covering up battery acid burns. Kuhn didn't think the circular scabs looked like burns but didn’t say so. Instead he said, “We’ll just need to get your fingerprints. They might be needed for elimination.”

The print room jacked Rider’s paranoia even higher. On a disarrayed desk was a “wanted” flier that referenced the Colt .45 with a picture of him. He flipped it over when the police weren’t looking. They took Rider’s prints, snapped a Polaroid, and cut him loose. He walked out of town before the sun set. After he fled, Mad Dog and Dulcie Newland called the police so they could hand over Rider’s things: T-shirts, pants, the handgun, and a long-sleeved Texaco work shirt. Police picked Rider up in Pueblo within a few weeks. He still didn’t realize that a gun charge was the least of his worries. Rider’s last act as a free man was giving police another false name. It didn’t work. He spent the next 10 months in jail on the gun charge as the Jacie Taylor investigation continued. Detectives theorized that bloodstains on Rider’s Texaco shirt were Taylor’s, which would put Rider at the crime scene. Snyder determined the stains were medium-velocity blood spatter, consistent with the attack. The CBI sent its evidence to a DNA testing lab called GeneScreen in Dallas, which reported that semen found on the blue and white blanket was not Rider’s, nor was the matter beneath Taylor’s fingernails. Yet the DNA from both samples matched each other, indicating an unknown third party would have been present. GeneScreen ran two tests on the Texaco shirt. One was consistent with only Rider’s blood and excluded Taylor. But the other suggested a “mixed typing”—Rider’s DNA plus someone else’s. If the test was accurate, the second DNA sample was the same type as 45 percent of the Caucasian population, which meant Taylor was one of tens of thousands of possible matches in Mesa County alone. Regardless, it was enough for probable cause. On April 13, 1995, just a week before his scheduled release on the gun charge, Rider was arrested for the sexual assault and murder of Jacie Taylor. Rider was stunned. He’d admitted to stealing the gun and to having lied. But rape? Murder?

Even though the investigation had lasted more than a year, the evidence the prosecution brought to trial wasn’t really evidence. It was circumstantial, hearsay. Prosecutors cited Rider’s suspicious behavior. People with long histories of drug abuse testified. At least one of them had been drunk when the police interviewed her, and now, in September 1996, many of the witnesses didn’t always seem to remember things exactly as they’d happened. Back in 1994, Dulcie Newland claimed that on the night of the murder she awoke twice to find Rider and Mad Dog gone, and she said Rider had scratches on his face the next morning—scratches that hadn’t been there before. During the trial, though, Dulcie admitted that she’d made her statements to police while on the heels of a four-day meth bender.

Moreover, when Kuhn interviewed Rider just three days after the murder, Kuhn observed no scratches on Rider’s face or hands, only the “acid burns” on his forearms. Seemingly, had Taylor scratched Dewey, his DNA would have been beneath her fingernails. It wasn’t. Then there was the Mallow clan: Mad Dog and his brother, Jon, or “Monster,” and their sister, Sam, who was the last known person to see Taylor alive. On the night of the murder, three of Taylor’s friends visited her apartment: Jerome Bustos, Teri Erickson, and Lonnie Williams. When they arrived at about 9, Sam refused to let them inside. Bustos and Erickson testified that they looked through the window and saw Taylor lying on the couch. Only her leg was visible, and it wasn’t just sitting there—it was moving. For about an hour, Sam kept everyone outside. Bustos and Erickson left around 10, and Sam claimed she left with Williams around 10:30. But a neighbor across the street testified that he went outside at midnight to smoke a cigarette and saw Sam and Monster through the window of Taylor’s apartment.

He didn’t see the 19-year-old, but he did notice what looked like blood smeared on the wall. He knew Rider, and he said Rider wasn’t there. What happened between midnight and when Taylor was found is unknown, but the next day Sam phoned Mad Dog, asking, “Will you tell the police I was with you?” Later that day, Monster allegedly broke down to friends and said, “I can’t believe what my family has done.” He told them Sam fought with Taylor over a ring, and Sam returned it by “putting it on her body.” (During the trial, Monster denied saying any of this.) Sam admitted in court to arguing with

Taylor but claimed she’d never “possessed” the ring in question. She confessed to having a rock collection, too, but records show the pebble on Taylor’s abdomen was nothing special, just a nondescript piece of gravel. During a break in the trial, Gil Stone, the investigator from the district attorney’s office, approached prosecutor Martha Kent and Rider’s defense attorney, Randy Brown. Stone had just interviewed two girls who knew Sam, who was gay. Stone said according to the girls, “Sam liked to put dog leashes around girls’ necks, some sexual ecstasy, some dominance S&M thing.” “Well, where are they?” They were gone. The girls called Stone the next day saying they’d received death threats about this incident and another murder case and were leaving the county. They wouldn’t be testifying. Around the same time, Sam also disappeared. The next time Rider called his mother, he was elated: “Mom, don’t worry. All of this is pointing to my innocence. We have to go through it, but it’ll be fine.” And being a staunch believer, both in her son and in the righteous hand of her Lord, she replied simply, encouragingly, “OK. Good.” The lone physical evidence linking Rider to the crime scene was the Texaco shirt. It was all but eliminated when Brown called John Thornton to the witness stand. The lab director of Forensic Analytical Specialties in California was a leading expert on blood analysis, having written a chapter about it in a crime investigation textbook. He refuted Snyder’s claim that blood spatter caused the Texaco shirt’s stains. “I saw no indication of a pattern of medium impact or medium velocity blood,” Thornton told the court. He said it was impossible to say whether the blood was coming from inside or outside the shirt, and he also denied that the shirt contained any blood other than Rider’s. Other genetic testing experts weighed in, saying GeneScreen’s procedures were problematic and sloppy and that the sample the company used for the mixed DNA typing was potentially contaminated. One expert told jurors there was “certainly no evidence” that Jacie Taylor’s blood was on that shirt. In another setback for the prosecution, the thumb-printed soap crumbled before the print could be pulled. And the bloody palm print on the shower wall? CBI finally identified its origin: Joe Snyder, the lab tech. (Snyder says finding prints from law enforcement after they’ve analyzed a crime scene is nothing unusual.) Once it became clear Rider didn’t kill Taylor, the prosecutors switched gears, arguing that he may not have murdered her, but he must have been there and helped whoever did. It all made Rider think, There’s nothing to this. The evidence proves I’m innocent. But the jurors were mostly from Mesa County, a conservative part of Colorado. A young girl had been brutalized and Robert Dewey was a tough-looking biker with a checkered past. That the evidence was circumstantial didn’t matter. It came down to which group of experts the jury believed most. The complicity theory satisfied their suspicions, and on October 16, 1996, they read their verdict: guilty. After the judge handed Dewey a life sentence with no chance for parole, he asked, “Mr. Dewey, did you want to say anything?” Rider gazed heavily at the ceiling, stood up, looked at the judge, and said, “There’s still a killer out there.”

If Rider’s life in prison were song lyrics, the chorus would echo “appeal denied.” His defense team’s motion for a new trial was rejected. His appeal attorney, Karen Ashby of Denver, who has since become a judge, combed through the case. Stunned he’d been convicted, she filed an argument citing insufficient evidence. That was denied in February 1999. Rider then went to Colorado’s Supreme Court, which upheld the previous rejection. By 2001 Rider was appointed another lawyer from Denver, Douglas Joffe. They met in the visitor’s room of the Arkansas Valley Correctional Facility. Rider was fed up. “Look, if you’re just going to song-and-dance me to get a paycheck and blow me off, this is it, our last meeting. No disrespect, but I’ll find someone who will listen and believe me,” he said.

He took Joffe’s silence as a shrug-off. What Rider didn’t know then was that although Joffe might have been dubious—because he did post-conviction and appeals cases, his clients routinely proclaimed their innocence—he would doggedly pursue Rider’s freedom for the next 11 years for a fraction of his usual pay, eventually becoming Rider’s sole crusader. Their interactions started with letters discussing legal issues. Eventually, the attorney/client relationship developed into friendship. Rider told Joffe about his son, Shawn, and about the ways he tried to preserve his sanity through the relentless boredom, guards who made a sport of tormenting inmates, and the nighttime sobs of men who had dwindled into puddles of their former selves. Joffe visited Rider in prison more than anyone. Joffe knew exactly what it was like to exist in a world where no one understood. He had never absorbed the ferocity of other inmates’ fists, but Joffe had experienced and internalized the brutality of a society that largely believed him to be sick. From an early age, Joffe secretly identified as female. By his early 20s he became so terrified of public ridicule he buried his true identity—so deep that for the next 20 years, he forgot about it. Like Rider, Joffe suffered the loss of a partner. When Joffe was in his early 40s, his wife split after his gender memories came flooding back in a tidal wave of confusion and despair. Just as friends were dropping out of Rider’s life, Joffe suffered the abandonment of nearly everyone he cared for—once he decided it was finally time to become she. Rider and Joffe (who now goes by the first name Danyel) simply got each other. They deeply understood each other’s grief, and they fortified each other’s resolve. During Joffe’s transition, Rider signed off his letters with, “You stay strong pretty lady. I’m very proud of you.”

Maybe it’s that bond of misunderstanding and persecution that kept Joffe working for Rider’s release despite constant setbacks. Why she began to place her faith not solely in the justice system, but also in the possibility of miracles. And then, finally, one happened. In 2003, the FBI announced a revamped DNA database called CODIS (Combined DNA Index System). It contains genetic records for all inmates who have been tested. Joffe immediately filed a motion to preserve the physical evidence in Rider’s case. If the real killer had been incarcerated for another crime, his DNA should be in CODIS. If they could retest the evidence and then upload the DNA to CODIS, they might get a hit. The district court granted Joffe’s motion in spring 2003, the first positive news Rider had received since his imprisonment. But there was a problem. DNA testing is expensive, and neither Rider nor Joffe had the money. With no other choice, Joffe launched the weary slog of searching for grants and petitioning organizations to cover the cost. It would take seven years.

Rider has Cherokee blood. He’d always been curious about his ancestry, and with no access to the open highway, after a short time behind bars he began to explore his past. By law, inmates can worship whatever god or gods they choose. For some incarcerated American Indians, their cathedral is the sweat lodge. In the glow of smoldering lava rocks, a dozen “brothers” would sway to the high-pitched, melodic wail of their songs, awash in scalding, purifying steam as they doused the rocks with water and passed around a pipe tamped with sacred herbs: sage, cedar, and tobacco. Guards were always looming near the “inipi” but couldn’t see under the oval structure of 16 bent willow branches pressed into the earth, connected at the top and covered in blankets. Nothing—not the searing heat of summer nor the brittle snowfalls freezing their hair stiff as they exited—stopped the sweat lodge brothers from packing the inipi. Rider wasn’t very religious, but in prison, he became devoutly spiritual. The sweat lodge was his new obsession. At only once a week, however, the cleansing sessions weren’t enough. To cope, to keep from losing his mind, Rider had to keep riding.

Every waking moment, in his head, he envisioned himself on a motorcycle. In the mess hall, inmates seated at gray tables in drab prison greens morphed into rows of motorcycles in different colors and styles, and he could pick any one of them. Sometimes he’d grab a cruiser, sometimes a low rider; it just depended on his mood. But they were all end-of-the-universe loud. He’d feel the wind whipping at his face, reminding and reassuring him that he was nothing like what he’d been branded as, nothing like what the courts and those on the outside said he was. He watched the seasons change from behind his bulletproof glass. It reminded him of holidays, family, his son’s birthday that he couldn’t attend, again. Shawn was changing—had changed—from the boy his dad remembered into a full-grown man. Shawn even had his own kids—grandkids Rider had never met but heard so much about.

April 2005 Rider had spent a decade in prison. He had started to wonder about trivial things. How long has it been since I petted a dog? What would it be like to actually touch a tree? What does the wilderness smell like? After a prison work accident he had a back surgery that did not go well. The rods and screws they implanted later impinged on the nerves in his spine. He also had a supposedly minor shoulder surgery that resulted in a month of complications and a nearly gangrenous limb. After finally being transported to Denver for proper medical care, he says the doctor told him, “You’re lucky. Real lucky. You could’ve lost your arm.” Occasionally, and only occasionally, Rider’s mother and her husband, Jim, would drive almost 1,100 miles from their Ridgecrest, California, home to the prison in Limon for a visit. They were allowed one hug. They were not allowed to hold hands. And the instant they’d stand to leave, Rider would start missing them all over again. He always worried before they arrived that something would ruin the reunion, because it didn’t always work out. Sometimes they’d set an appointment, but between leaving California and arriving in Colorado, the prison would go into lockdown, and they wouldn’t be allowed in. Eleven hundred miles, for nothing. It might be two more years before they could return. In March 2006, Rider requested post-conviction DNA testing. That same month, Shawn called with good news. He’d begun making arrangements to see his dad, hopefully in the next few months; their first visit since Rider went away. The district court denied Rider’s request for DNA testing on May 5, 2006. Two days later, Shawn, about a month away from his 27th birthday, was driving in Kansas City. He turned to address a friend in the back seat, swerved off the road, collided with either a metal structure or another car, and rolled his vehicle across a grass field. He died instantly. Limon Correctional was on a modified lockdown when the news trickled down to Rider three days later. He was told not by a loved one, but by a prison chaplain. Rider wasn’t permitted to attend his son’s funeral. He mourned the only way he knew: First, alone in his cell, and later with his sweat lodge brothers, swaying to the native songs with steam and tears rolling over him. He tapped into his Harley daydreams for escape. The following week, he sat at his desk intending to write his former wife but could find no words.

He just stared at the paper. What do you say? The court rejections continued. It took Joffe years—and several legal setbacks—to finally catch a break. Through an acquaintance, she reached the Innocence Project at the Benjamin N. Cardozo School of Law in New York City, which is dedicated to exonerating wrongfully convicted prisoners and has helped free more than 300 such inmates since its founding in 1992. Joffe submitted an application. It would take a year for the group to respond, but it finally accepted Rider’s application and agreed to pay for new DNA testing on the Texaco shirt, this time using modern protocols. It was a huge victory. Then, something even bigger: In 2010, armed with a $1.4 million federal grant, Denver District Attorney Mitch Morrissey, Colorado Attorney General John Suthers, and others formed the Colorado Justice Review Project (CJRP), a prosecution-based exoneration program. Its goal: Review the cases of incarcerated inmates serving time for violent crimes, find examples of potential wrongful conviction, and begin the exhaustive process of getting the inmates released through DNA testing. Groups like the Innocence Project often have to litigate for every shred of information; the CJRP has the cooperation of every district attorney in Colorado. Julie Selsberg, a former prosecutor in the Manhattan district attorney’s office, runs the CJRP. She and her colleagues had about 5,000 cases to screen, some dating as far back as the 1960s. After a year, they’d whittled the list down to 1,400. Rider’s case file was buried in the “Mesa County” folder.

In January 2011, Selsberg received a call from Danyel Joffe. The DNA results from the Texaco shirt were finally back, and Jacie Taylor’s blood wasn’t on it. In fact, the lab ruled out any female DNA. The lone piece of physical evidence tying Rider to the crime had finally been refuted. Selsberg pulled Rider’s case out of order. In late March 2011, Selsberg and her investigator drove to Limon. They entered the large, gray visiting room and watched Rider walk slowly to greet them. The first thing Selsberg noticed was how oddly calm he seemed. She was used to inmates who vehemently proclaimed their innocence, whether it was true or not. She expected Rider to be pounding on the table, yelling,

“You don’t understand! Get me out of here!” Instead, he was so serene it was distracting. After 16 years in prison, Rider had only known letdowns. You can’t be anxious in a shoebox for that long; it’s no way to live. His composure stuck with Selsberg. She left knowing only that they had to keep investigating. As she continued searching for the truth, she found herself repeatedly asking a question many before her had pondered: What links him to this crime? The Texaco shirt mystery had been solved, but other questions remained: the dog leash, the skin beneath Taylor’s fingernails, the semen on the blanket, and the soap found inside her. Even though none of this had matched Rider, it had never matched anyone else, either. Selsberg wanted it all tested, and the person to do that was Yvonne “Missy” Woods—as Selsberg puts it, a “talented, no-nonsense” forensic scientist at the CBI. Woods received one batch of evidence in spring 2011 and a second that fall. Selsberg was on her winter break when, on December 19, Woods called: “You are not going to believe what I am going to tell you,” she said. She’d been able to retrieve DNA profiles from every piece of evidence, first confirming what was already known: Neither the semen nor the matter under Taylor’s nails was Rider’s. But also, DNA found on the dog leash, which had never been tested before, wasn’t his. They all matched each other. And most importantly, they matched someone in the CODIS database.

In 1995, four months after Rider was booked on the murder charge, a man he’d never heard of was arrested for the 1989 slaying of 39-year-old Fort Collins businesswoman Susan Doll. Doll had been beaten, raped, and found lifeless with a telephone cord wrapped around her neck. The killer, who was 16 when he murdered Doll, was Douglas Thames. Like Rider, he was staying on Inness Court in Palisade when Taylor was murdered, but he was on the periphery, younger than most of the residents and part of a different social circle. His fiancée, Becky Golden, attended high school with Taylor. Yet somehow Thames’ name never came up. During the investigators’ sweep of the neighborhood, he either wasn’t home or was simply overlooked. Even when he was arrested in Grand Junction—13 miles from Palisade—for killing Doll in nearly the same way as Taylor was killed, no investigator ever made the connection that might have exonerated Rider. The DNA implicated Thames in the murder of Jacie Taylor. But why would he leave the rock and the ring? Was Sam Mallow involved, or did Thames place those items on Jacie’s stomach as a setup? These questions remain unanswered but will be raised again when Thames is tried in 2014.

Spring 2012 Rider had heard nothing new about his case since the Texaco shirt was cleared more than a year earlier. Joffe was on a gag order while law enforcement officials* searched for any connection between Rider and Thames. They finally determined there was none. In late April, Rider was transferred from Limon to a jail in Arapahoe County, where he’d spend the night before transferring again to Grand Junction. Still handcuffed, with none of his possessions, he had no idea what was happening—until Danyel Joffe walked in. Rider opened with his usual line. “Am I going home yet?” Joffe smiled, nodded. “You’re getting out next Monday. Exonerated. Fully.” Rider said nothing for a beat, and then: “Is this a dream?” “No.” “Will you pinch me?” She pinched him. It hurt. Exonerated. Fully. At the courthouse in Grand Junction the following Monday, Judge Brian Flynn counted the days Rider had spent in jail: 6,219. The people who had always believed in Rider were all around: His mother and her husband sat behind him. Joffe was at his side. Selsberg was there. A pen pal flew out from North Carolina. When Rich Tuttle, one of the original prosecutors, stood, he looked Rider in the eye and said, “I deeply regret what the system did. I wish you the best, and I mean that sincerely.” Rider simply nodded and mouthed, “Thank you.” Rider was 35 when he was jailed. On the day he walked out into a bright Grand Junction afternoon, he was 51. The instant he exited the courthouse, he heard a Harley tear up the street, end-of-the-universe loud. He burst into a wide grin. On the steps outside, he burned a bundle of sage. Smoke clouded the air as he purified himself and his longtime defender. He waved the smoldering sage around Joffe, who, dressed in a gray suit, held her arms out, closed her eyes, and let the smoke waft over her.

 

(*This sentence originally stated that "Joffe was on a gag order while the CJRP attorneys searched for any connection between Rider and Thames." It should read "Joffe was on a gag order while law enforcement officials searched for any connection between Rider and Thames." We regret the error.)

As of last year, Colorado was still one of 22 states offering no compensation to the unjustly imprisoned. Rider had no permanent place to stay and little support. After having nearly two decades stolen from his life, his old skills were worthless. He’d never turned on a computer. Job training and education were never available to a man who was expected to die in prison. He qualified for $87 per month in food stamps and, thanks to his ruined back, about $700 per month in social security. Rider’s new world was unlike anything he remembered. Sometimes he’d find himself sitting in a dark room at the edge of his bed with the door closed, waiting for a guard to come around for roll call. Even though Rider was free of manacles and dead-bolted prison doors, he often forgot he was no longer caged. For 16 years, waiting had been his custom, and sometimes he’d linger for hours wondering why the guards were taking so long—before realizing they weren’t coming. Adjusting to the outside was no easier. Soon after his release Rider entered a Wal-Mart, a behemoth of such violent hues he had to run right back outside. He understood gray. White made sense. But not these screaming, electric colors. He smoked a cigarette on the sidewalk, collected himself, and walked back in. People now carried phones the size of those Zippo lighters he used to tuck away in his pockets. They no longer interacted face to face; they’d punch letters on a screen, and the letters got transported through thin fucking air to, well, somewhere, and through all this nothingness a message would come back. He wondered, Why don’t people just talk to each other? All this Facebook stuff. What’s that about? But his grandkids were all on Facebook. There was Michael, 16, who’d been going by “Little Shawn” ever since his father died in the car accident. And there was Tela, 18, who has a tattoo. Rider thought, There we go. Something in common. He had yet to hold them in his arms or see their faces without screens and hundreds of miles of separation. And so he figured out this Facebook thing and got to know his grandkids as best he could, fixing up a bike and biding his time until he could save enough money to visit them in Missouri, in person, to be there with them. “I don’t want to be that guy who sends them stuff all the time but is never there,” he told me. “It’s killing me I can’t go see them. I want them to be like, ‘Man! The dude’s cool!’ ” Nearly a year after his release, Rider found himself in Room 0112 at the Capitol. He was listening to Dan Schoen, the executive director of the Colorado Criminal Defense Bar, testify before a U-shaped audience of legislators that would decide his future.

They were debating a proposed bill sponsored by state Representatives Angela Williams and Dan Pabon and state Senator Lucía Guzmán: HB-1230, Compensation for the Wrongly Incarcerated. If it passed, it would determine what kind of resources and how much money per lost year Rider—and all the innocents who come after him—would receive. “Fifty thousand? Fifty-five? Seventy?” Schoen asked the legislators rhetorically. “How much to miss your kid’s birthday…sit in a cell…have people think you killed somebody? There is no price to make that up…we’re putting a price on a man’s life right now. I want everybody to think about that.” Then Schoen invoked his own daughter, who was six, and talked about what it would be like to never get to see her again. Rider couldn’t take it anymore. He left the room in silence, tears streaming down his face, and sobbed quietly in the hall until a gentle hand steered him back. The bill passed the Judiciary Committee unanimously. The House voted in favor, 60-2. The Senate approved the bill. Once Governor Hickenlooper signed it into law and after Joffe filed a formal request for compensation on Rider’s behalf—all of which still would take months to process—Rider would get education, financial counseling, and $70,000 for every year of wrongful incarceration, a total of $1.2 million doled out in 12 annual increments.

May 21, 2013 A few weeks before Governor Hickenlooper is scheduled to sign the bill, Rider is still staying at other people’s homes, still mostly broke, still occasionally waiting in dark rooms for prison guards who will never arrive. But he’s optimistic now. He finally worked out a way to visit his grandkids. The first time they told him how much they loved him, he melted. On this morning in the Grand Junction home of his friend Ginger Becker, all is quiet. We’re looking into a pond she built in the front yard. Three toads perch at its edge. Every night Rider hears them barking some mating call—he likes to think maybe they’re just having a party—and it makes him smile. What kind of toads are they? Becker responds in her croaking, raspy voice: “Just some old toads.” Rider aims for more precision: “Big-ass toads.” Becker’s large black Lab, named Lovey for obvious reasons, wanders over to Rider’s side. He idly strokes her head. He’s finally petting a dog. There’s a pile of tools in Becker's garage and a Harley that needs fixing. It’s hers, but he loves working on it just the same. Inside, Rider shows off some pictures, one of his son, and then some of his grandkids: That’s Little Shawn. That’s Tela. Their home in Missouri is the first place Rider will visit when the compensation comes. He’ll take a Harley, hit the open road, and escape to the family he still has. This time it won’t be a dream. “Come on,” he says to no one in particular, flipping through the images of his grandkids. “You tellin’ me you wouldn’t just give them the world?” m Bryan Schatz profiled Speaker of the House Mark Ferrandino in the March 2013 issue of the magazine. Email him at letters@5280.com.

Finishing School

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Autumn fashion pairs mid-century ladylike silhouettes with understated accessories.

Deck: 

Autumn’s ultrapolished look elegantly pairs mid-century, ladylike silhouettes with luxe, understated accessories.

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STRAIGHT A’s
Stella McCartney dress ($1,360), Neiman Marcus, 3030 E. First Ave.,303-329-2600, neimanmarcus.com. Bottega Veneta clutch ($1,920) and Céline cuff ($650), both Max, 264 Detroit St., 303-321-4949, maxclothing.com. Manolo Blahnik pumps ($695), Nordstrom, multiple locations, shop.nordstrom.com.


BOOK SMART
Stella McCartney sweatshirt ($820), pants ($665), and Oscar de la Renta earrings ($290), all Neiman Marcus. Vanessa Bruno tuxedo shirt ($395), Lawrence Covell, 225 Steele St., 303-320-1023, lawrencecovell.com. Manolo Blahnik pumps ($595), Nordstrom.


HEAD OF THE CLASS
Erdem blouse ($1,040), pants ($1,540), and Céline pumps ($640), all Max. Marcia Moran ring ($165), Garbarini, 239 Detroit St., 303-333-8686, garbarinishop.com.

 

HALL PASS
Bottega Veneta dress ($1,900) and Céline Edge handbag ($3,450), both Max. Lizzie Fortunato Birds of Paradise necklace ($678), Goldyn, 2040 W. 30th Ave., 720-489-0580, shopgoldyn.com.


THE THINKER
Veronica Beard blouse ($545), Lawrence Covell. Norma Ishak neck warmer ($275), normaishak.com. Bottega Veneta minaudière ($2,200), Max.


SETTING THE CURVE
Valentino lace blouse ($1,980), Dolce & Gabbana top ($675), and Dina Mackney ring ($380), all Neiman Marcus. Marni skirt ($550) and Manolo Blahnik pumps ($595), both Nordstrom.


IVY LEAGUE
Erdem dress ($2,945), Max.


SCHOOL'S OUT
Valentino trench coat ($3,490) and Lanvin pumps ($995), both Neiman Marcus. Salvatore Ferragamo mini bag ($650), Nordstrom.


Hair: Charlie Price
Makeup: Katelyn Simkins for Make Up Store
Manicure: Tootsies, The Nail Shoppe
Model: Cindy Yan, Wilhelmina Denver
Fashion Assistant: Tanner Mark Brown
Location: East High School

 

 

Pioneers 2.0

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Intro: 

They told us to go west, so we did. Take a look at the new Colorado.

Deck: 

They told us to go west, so we did. And we still are. In droves. Welcome to a different kind of Gold Rush, in which Colorado’s most precious commodity is new residents. This population boom is changing our state: We’re no longer so darn white, so young, so isolated. We’re the poster child for a new West. Take a look.

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5280.com Exclusive: Change Agents: Major Moments for Women in Colorado’s Political History

5280.com Exclusive: The Native Sticker

5280.com Exclusive:Best Bet: Warbirds Over the Rockies 

 

 

The Dean's List

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Intro: 

The 20 best public high schools along the Front Range.

Deck: 

The 20 best public high schools along the Front Range.


Plus: an in-depth look at how the so-called Colorado Paradox has shortchanged our kids—and how we might finally be able to fix it.

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The following districts were considered for the list of the 20 best public high schools in 2013:

Adams County, Adams-Arapahoe, Boulder Valley, Cherry Creek, Denver County/Denver Public Schools, Englewood, Jefferson County, Littleton, Mapleton, Sheridan, and Westminster.

Click here to skip to the list of 20 best public high schools for 2013.

5280.com Exclusive: You may also be interested in reading how new high school graduation guidelines reflect changing workforce demands.

***

Colorado has more than its share of mentally acute residents. Our rec-league volleyball teammates earn their paychecks as rocket scientists; our neighbors compose complex, beautiful pieces of classical music—and can flawlessly perform them, too; and our good ol’ drinking buddies have conjured up clever business ideas and launched their own booming companies. In fact, Colorado ranks a proud third among all states in its proportion of residents (35 percent) who have college degrees—just behind the notably academic Massachusetts and Maryland.

Impressive, right? Well…maybe. Although our adult population’s educational background has helped us thrive, we Coloradans still do a woeful job of fostering future brainiacs here at home.

Consider: Only one in five Colorado ninth-graders will later earn any kind of advanced degree, well below the national average. What’s more, Colorado has one of the nation’s worst achievement gaps between the standardized test scores of fourth-graders who are eligible for free and reduced-price lunch (FRL) and those who aren’t.

This confounding phenomenon—educated adults, undereducated offspring—is called the Colorado Paradox. One of its causes may be found in a report by the Colorado Fiscal Institute, an independent group that examines fiscal and economic policy, which discovered that we rank near the bottom on spending for K–12 education and higher education.

But rather than assigning blame, let’s start with the premise that education in Colorado has reached an undeniable crisis point. “Kids’ needs are increasingly not met by the system we have in place right now,” says Carol Hedges, director of the Colorado Fiscal Institute. “We’re at a moment in which the mismatch between our ability to raise revenue and our ability to train our children for the future have really smacked against one another.”

Educators, lawmakers, and businesspeople have been responding to these grim assessments in numerous ways. In recent years, new legislation has changed the way we evaluate teachers, set new statewide standards for high school graduates, and increased our focus on early literacy. “There’s a real strong reform orientation in Denver and the metro area,” says former East High School principal John Youngquist. “There’s a big focus on innovation and, in general, how we are going to make this work for kids.” After several years devoted to conception and pilot programs, many of these efforts will roll out statewide in 2013–14. “My hope is that with some of this work we can really get closer to meeting the needs of each kid,” says Jill Hawley, the Colorado Department of Education’s (CDE) associate commissioner on achievement and strategy. “This is one of the most exciting times in Colorado in the area of education.”

 

Show Them The Money

The $950 million plan to overhaul the way  Colorado funds public education.

There are almost two million more people in Colorado now than there were in the early 1990s. And yet, since then, the state hasn’t changed how it distributes money to public schools.
This year, the Legislature passed a new school finance law, Senate Bill 213, which reimagines the way Colorado funds its school districts. “This has been an unprecedented legislative process,” says state Senator Michael Johnston, who spearheaded the bill. “This formula controls almost half of the entire state budget.”

The two-year implementation of SB 213 hinges on voters approving a $950 million tax increase in November. (At press time, Initiative 22’s supporters had gathered twice the required signatures to qualify the issue for the ballot, and Governor John Hickenlooper had announced his support for the measure.) Johnston says SB 213 is the byproduct of thousands of meetings between lawmakers and teachers, principals, parents, and other stakeholders.

SB 213 includes funding for full-day kindergarten, $109 million for English language learners (ELL), and the creation of a $100 million Innovation Fund, from which educators can apply for grant money to fund things such as longer school days and more classroom technology. “We’re making a real investment in trying to make funding more equitable for kids all over the state,” Johnston says, “so every kid has a fair shot, no matter where they grew up.” Here are a few ways the bill aims to change the status quo.
_____

1. What Does The State Funding Cover?

NOW
• Half-day kindergarten
• Grades 1–12
• Online students
PROPOSED CHANGES
• Add half-day preschool for 3- to 5-year-olds
• Add full-day kindergarten

2. How Is Additional Funding Distributed?

NOW
• Cost of living (districts where it costs more to live receive more money)
• At-risk students (districts with a higher percentage of free-lunch kids get more money)
• Size (some larger districts get more money)
PROPOSED CHANGES
• Small districts (districts with fewer than 4,300 students will get more money)
• ELL students (districts with a greater percentage of ELL students will get more money)

3. What Control Does The State Have Over Local Districts?

NOW
• Each district tells the state how much it can pay for K–12 education; the state pays the rest. Twenty years ago, districts kicked in 70 percent and the state contributed 30 percent—today, it’s roughly the opposite.
PROPOSED CHANGE
• The state will determine how much a district is able to pay using median income, property value per pupil, and concentration of poverty.

4. What Special Programs Receive Funding?

NOW
• Special education
• ELL
• Gifted and talented
• Transportation
• Vocational education
• Health education
PROPOSED CHANGE
• Funding for special education and gifted and talented programs will increase; the rest remain the same.

 

Committing To Kids

To get our students to where they should be, we not only need more money—we need to spend it more wisely.

Traveling around the state, the stories I’ve heard are plentiful and painful. A parent told me class sizes are up to an average of 36 students in Pueblo, some school districts have eliminated art and music, and 83 other districts cut costs by sending students to school four days a week. And yet, Colorado is creating some of the most ambitious education reforms in the country. We’ve developed more rigorous evaluations for our teachers and principals, set new standards for our students, and established accountability criteria for all our schools and districts.


That’s why an unprecedented coalition of businesspeople, educators, and political leaders are united in their support for a once-in-a-generation shot at dramatically improving Colorado schools and ensuring that every child has a chance to graduate ready for college and a career. (For more information, visit coloradocommitstokids.com.)

We must fundamentally change how we spend money in Colorado. Investments in high-quality early childhood education and full-day kindergarten, and in extended school days and school years, will make our teachers more effective and provide more individualized instruction.
But Coloradans want to know these dollars will make it directly to classrooms and will provide the results we seek. Initiative 22, (the ballot measure for SB213) which will be up for appro-val this November, will make Colorado the first state to do just that. For the first time, it also will give principals, teachers, and parents more control over how the budgets at their schools are allocated.
Colorado’s natural resources already are the envy of the nation, but our most important natural resources are our children. This November, we can choose to make Colorado not only a national leader on school reform, but also a national leader in school results.

 

All In A Day’s Work

If every teacher maintained the same hellacious schedule that Amanda Westenberg does, how much better off would our schools be? From August to May, the Colorado Department of Education’s 2013 Teacher of the Year—a Rangeview High School social studies teacher and professional development coordinator—wakes at 2 a.m. each weekday and works until 4 a.m. “I try not to send too many emails then,” she says. “It’s kind of embarrassing. But I really feel like that’s prime time for me to think about my teaching. I do some of my best lesson plans then.”

From 4 to 5 a.m., the lithe 37-year-old fits in some rare me time, working out at home to Jillian Michaels DVDs. By 6:30 she’s showered, eaten, and driven from her Wash Park home to Rangeview in southeast Aurora. From 7:30 a.m. until 3:20 p.m.—apart from a 30-minute “decompression” lunch with her colleagues—Westenberg teaches courses such as Advanced Placement European History, 20th Century Conflicts, and Latin American History. (Average class size: about 35 kids.) During prep and professional development periods, she oversees student assistants, sends emails, mentors other teachers, and meets with teens looking for academic and emotional support. “By the end of the day, my room has had about 100 kids in it,” Westenberg says. “So I need some time for sifting, sorting, filing, moving, straightening.”


Then it’s on to the crisis du jour—someone missed a test and needs a retake; she’s scheduled a committee meeting with colleagues; or there’s a review session for her AP class. Westenberg normally heads home around 5 p.m. She might meet friends at Highland Tavern for happy hour or dine at Root Down before going to bed around 10. “Time is always an issue. If I only have, on average, a minute and a half or two minutes to spend with every kid throughout the course of the day….” She trails off. “But I’m going to find a way to make it work—because I want to.” That’s why Westenberg uses her summers to reflect on her own and her students’ performances, develop specific improvement plans and new curriculum, run workshops for other teachers, and take classes—sometimes for no additional pay.
Even though Colorado public school teachers make, on average, about $50,000 a year (26th on the national pay scale), Westenberg’s not complaining. “For my level of education”—she has a masters in education—“I may not make the same as other professionals. But I live a great life, and I have a great job,” she says. “The best part of my day is the kids; kids make my day livable and workable.”

 

Under Review

How new teacher evaluations will benefit your children.

Most professionals are familiar with annual performance reviews, so it may come as a surprise that until now, Colorado law only required its public school teachers to be formally evaluated every three years. And due to the tenure system being based solely on experience, these results rarely had teeth: No matter how subpar some instructors might have been, it didn’t necessarily affect their job security.
Soon, mere seniority will no longer guarantee a teacher’s job. After piloting a teacher evaluation program in 27 districts in 2012–13, the Colorado Department of Education is debuting a system centered on six Quality Standards (see “Turning the Tables” on the next page). Half of teachers’ scores will come from meeting the first five standards; the other portion will be based on student growth and learning. Three consecutive years of effective or better ratings will earn teachers nonprobationary status, or tenure; two straight ineffective years will remove that status. “We think every professional deserves high-quality feedback,” says Katy Anthes, the CDE’s executive director for educator effectiveness. “We see it as a support mechanism.”
The CDE expects evaluators (usually principals or assistant principals, who have their own new evaluation system) to consult with teachers about how best to improve. It should be a mostly welcome development for Colorado educators. Says Anthes: “Teachers have said to us, ‘Finally, I know what’s expected of me, and I have a road map for getting there.’ ”

Turning The Tables

Educators—the ones usually passing out the tests—will now be evaluated on their annual demonstrations of the following Quality Standards. Below, Colorado Education Association teachers tell you how these standards might be applied in the classroom.

QUALITY STANDARD
I. Teachers demonstrate mastery of and pedagogical expertise in the content they teach.
FOR EXAMPLE
◆ An English teacher helps students explore the Shakespeare authorship debate by presenting the most credible theories so students can choose to research and present the one that appeals to them. ◆ An ELL teacher shows students how she highlights and annotates a reading selection before students are encouraged to design their own method.

QUALITY STANDARD
II. Teachers establish a safe, inclusive, and respectful learning environment for a diverse population of students.

FOR EXAMPLE
◆ High school students are asked to stow away cell phones and electronics, in accordance with district policy, but the teacher does so respectfully. ◆ Profanity is not encouraged, but teachers can explain the use of derogatory or coarse language in texts.

QUALITY STANDARD
III. Teachers plan and deliver effective instruction and create an environment that facilitates learning for their students.

FOR EXAMPLE
◆ A high school science teacher uses a learning management system, Schoology, which gives parents and students online access to the curriculum. ◆ Teachers set up a blended learning environment with plenty of tutorials to help students at all levels understand the content.

QUALITY STANDARD
IV. Teachers reflect on their practice.

FOR EXAMPLE
 ◆ Teachers meet with colleagues to discuss their methods, brainstorm on how to improve lessons, and create goals for student learning. ◆ A teacher or group of teachers examines student work and lesson plans and analyzes data from students to modify instruction.

QUALITY STANDARD
V.  Teachers demonstrate leadership.
FOR EXAMPLE
◆ Teachers participate on district curriculum teams, in literacy and math collaboratives, and in professional learning opportunities. ◆ Teachers offer training to support staff in areas such as generating classroom data, cross-content teams, writing across the curriculum, and engaging parents.

QUALITY STANDARD
VI.  Student Learning Outcomes
FOR EXAMPLE
◆ Individual attribution: A first-grade teacher sets a classroom target, such as 18 of 20 students increasing their reading proficiency. ◆ Collective attribution: All ninth- and 10th-grade math teachers in a school agree to be evaluated on 10th-grade math TCAP growth results.

A New Hope

What lessons have we learned from Lobato?

In 2005, some concerned parents and school districts launched a legal battle that accused Colorado of not providing the “thorough and uniform” education mandated in the state constitution—and claimed our educational funding came up about $3 billion short. This summer, the state Supreme Court finally struck down Lobato v. Colorado. Some see the ruling as an end to a complicated battle. Others see a new beginning. Kathy Gephardt, the lead attorney for the plaintiff, is one of the optimists:
One of the takeaways of the suit is it raised awareness statewide. Five or six years ago, you would have never heard of school finance issues.
There’s still a general lack of adequate funding for every school district in the state.
Some districts have more resources than others. But every district is lacking, and in some, it’s more dramatic—the ones where there are more English language learners, poverty, or where there’s a [predominantly] Hispanic population.
Historically, there has just not been any leadership on addressing this issue.
Educators, for the most part, will do everything they can to make sure the kids aren’t paying the price for the decisions of adults.
What I hope we’ve learned is that this is going to take community involvement, engagement, and leadership. There aren’t any quick fixes.
I’ve always focused on educating people about this. I’ve always thought [the Lobato case] was a vehicle to highlight the facts.  
The gap between the haves and the have-nots is getting wider. We’ve already lost a generation of kids to the system, but I’m really hopeful we won’t lose another.
What’s at stake is our kids’ futures. One opinion from the Supreme Court doesn’t change our obligation to make sure they’re as bright as they can be.
One place where Colorado falls down badly—and will continue to fall—is special education. You don’t have to look far to see how we’re underserving those kids.
One of the truly heartwarming parts of the case has been watching Taylor Lobato go from being a very shy seventh-grader to this bright, wonderful advocate for kids in Colorado. I don’t think Taylor’s going to stop advocating.

Fitting In

Front Range parents befuddled by the complex process of open enrollment are turning to outside experts for help.

Say your daughter is musically gifted, but her high school doesn’t have an orchestra. Or maybe your child has special needs but might not get enough individualized attention from your large neighborhood school. Although Colorado’s school choice gives kids the option to “open enroll” into any public institution, most of Denver’s more desirable public schools have waiting lists, and researching and applying can be time-consuming and even mind-boggling.

A burgeoning industry has arisen around helping parents find the best classroom for each child. Last October, Denver Public Schools launched a free online tool called SchoolMatch. It helps you suss out your preferences for everything from fine arts or International Baccalaureate programs to graduation rates and sports. It also tells you whether a school offers basics like breakfast or English Language Acquisition services. SchoolMatch then ranks compatible schools based on how closely they match your needs or how convenient their locations are.

For a fee, parents seeking more hands-on support can try E.Merging, an educational consulting and coaching firm. “Most parents focus primarily on test scores when searching for schools,” says Leanna Harris, an E.Merging educational consultant. “Ideally, they should also be looking at things like teaching philosophies and the types of educational and extracurricular programs offered, and try to view those things through the lens of their child’s needs, passions, and learning style.”
Because the application process is ever more harrowing, E.Merging encourages clients to cast a wide net: About 85 percent of its clients apply for spots in both public and private schools. But E.Merging founder Laura Barr says school choice is more about finding the perfect match. “We don’t see schools as ‘good’ or ‘bad,’ ” she says. “We see them as fits.”

TOP PUBLIC HIGH SCHOOLS

Methodology Schools were evaluated in a one-county radius around Denver, plus Boulder, using the Colorado Growth Model. This assesses schools according to levels of academic proficiency (in math, reading, and writing) and “growth”—i.e., how well schools are helping their students meet or exceed their expected skill levels at each grade. Schools were chosen based on high scores in both categories across all three subject areas. Special consideration was given to schools with higher free and reduced-price lunch (FRL) percentages.
» Format: Proficiency/Growth (on a scale of 1–100) in 2012  
» Note: The Colorado Growth Model was updated for 2013’s data after this article went to press.

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Arapahoe
LITTLETON

    math        reading        writing        frl
    59/60    |    88/58    |    73/62    |    6.74%
   
This Centennial school celebrates 50 years this month as it commits to the integration of 21st-century technology into its classrooms. The school’s Connected Learners program ensures that all students have laptops for use in school and at home.

Boulder
BOULDER VALLEY

    math        reading        writing        frl
    57/61    |    76/44    |    62/49    |    17.38%
Founded in 1875, the oldest public secondary school in Colorado offers 28 Advanced Placement (AP) courses, and more than 40 percent of students enroll in at least one. Boulder High’s nearly 1,800 students also can participate in cultural events and classes at the nearby University of Colorado Boulder. Incoming students take a Freshman Seminar, led by upperclassmen, to help them make the transition.

CEC Middle College of Denver
DENVER PUBLIC SCHOOLS
    math        reading        writing        frl
    39/49    |    84/63    |    65/74    |    88.63%
As a magnet school serving a population of students with nearly 90 percent FRL assistance, CEC boasts high growth scores, especially in reading and writing. The school focuses on college preparation in addition to offering a range of career-oriented courses—such as construction trades, exercise and health sciences, welding, law, and digital film production—to help students discover their professional passions. Culinary arts students live up to the school’s credo, “Do Something Real,” by operating a full-service cafe as part of the CEC’s Jefferson Park campus.

Chatfield
JEFFERSON COUNTY

    math        reading        writing        frl
    53/57    |    75/38    |    62/46    |    12.04%
The Chatfield Chargers compete in more varsity sports than any other school in their district and make regular appearances in state championship contests. More than 20 AP courses are offered on the Littleton campus, and the school puts a strong emphasis on community service: Students have raised more than $100,000 for the American Cancer Society through Relay for Life since 2007.

Cherry Creek
CHERRY CREEK

    math        reading        writing        frl
    65/61    |    84/53    |    75/57    |    8.75%

“Creek,” as it’s more commonly known, is larger than many colleges, with an enrollment of nearly 3,500 (Colorado’s biggest). The 80-acre, four-building Greenwood Village campus—specifically designed to evoke a university environment to better prepare students for the transition to college—has more than 150 classrooms and hosts about 30 AP subjects, approximately 100 clubs and activities, and 18 sports.

Columbine
JEFFERSON COUNTY

    math        reading        writing        frl
    47/53    |    76/44    |    57/50    |    19.3%
The primary athletic rivals of nearby Chatfield High, the Rebels compete at a high level across 16 sports. In addition to extensive honors and AP classes, Columbine now offers an endorsed International Baccalaureate program. On average, 85 percent of the school’s graduates go on to college.

Conifer
JEFFERSON COUNTY

    math        reading        writing        frl
    53/63    |    85/51    |    70/64    |    12.62%
Conifer High provides a resource-rich learning environment, with a tutoring center available to students both during and after school. The Lobos also have access to a robust library, courtesy of a partnership with the Jefferson County Public Library system. The midsize school has 14 sports and more than 25 clubs and activities.

D’Evelyn
JEFFERSON COUNTY

    math        reading        writing        frl
    88/59    |    97/60    |    88/50    |    6.29%
D’Evelyn Junior/Senior High School (grades 7–12) in southwest Denver prides itself on producing college-ready graduates. It boasts the highest ACT composite scores and the lowest number of students needing college remediation coursework of any public school in the state. The Jaguars’ marching band won the state 2A championship in 2011 and 2012.

Denver School of Science & Technology: Stapleton
DENVER PUBLIC SCHOOLS
    math        reading        writing        frl
    74/81    |    88/67    |    67/61    |    43.26%
Since its first group of seniors graduated in 2008, 100 percent of DSST graduates have been accepted to four-year colleges. The popular STEM (science, technology, engineering, and mathematics) charter school determines placement into its almost 500 spots through a lottery system. The school’s continued academic success and growth are especially impressive given that more than 43 percent of the student body qualifies for FRL.

Denver School of the Arts
DENVER PUBLIC SCHOOLS
    math        reading        writing        frl
    57/61    |    93/55    |    83/54    |    14.46%
This fine arts school in Park Hill, opened in 1991, was an early exploration of the magnet model in Denver. Middle and high school students must audition to join one of 11 majors and are held to rigorous academic standards in addition to their artistic commitments, which include regular, open-to-the-public performances in multiple on-site theaters and a recital hall.

East
DENVER PUBLIC SCHOOLS
    math        reading        writing        frl
    41/53    |    76/54    |    59/56    |    35.45%
The perennially popular, historic East High School (enrollment: 2,313) in City Park boasts above-average reading and writing proficiency and growth scores along with its many athletic and extracurricular options. East Angels enjoy a variety of nontraditional recreation and club teams (bowling, Ultimate Frisbee, rugby, table tennis), a strong theater and performance arts program, and more than 66 student organizations, including five ethnic studies clubs.

Evergreen
JEFFERSON COUNTY
    math        reading        writing        frl
    70/72    |    90/54    |    75/50    |    10.23%

In addition to strong academic performance—the school has a 99 percent graduation rate—77 percent of Evergreen students participate in the school’s 24 co-curricular or interest clubs, athletics, or both. The Cougars also have a serious commitment to service: 82 percent of the school’s more than 1,000 students perform community volunteer work, and 4.5 percent of graduates join the military.

Fairview
BOULDER VALLEY
    math        reading        writing        frl
    68/55    |    84/44    |    74/40    |    7.28%
Students looking for rigorous, challenging coursework thrive at Boulder’s Fairview, where they can choose from 13 AP subjects and both the full International Baccalaureate diploma and IB certificate pathways. The Knights compete in 5A athletics and enjoy an eclectic variety of clubs and activities (Humans vs. Zombies, Slackline Club, Korean Movie Club) in addition to more traditional offerings. Fairview also boasts eight choirs and more than 10 different bands.

Grandview
CHERRY CREEK
    math        reading        writing        frl
    48/63    |    81/57    |    67/54    |    16.9%
Aurora’s Grandview is known for both its high pass rate for AP exams and for a strong 5A athletics department; in 2008, Sports Illustrated ranked Grandview as the number one sports program in Colorado. A large student population of 2,600—second in the metro area only to Cherry Creek High—supports more than 40 clubs and activities.

Heritage
LITTLETON
    math        reading        writing        frl
    58/62    |    83/51    |    68/51    |    12.83%
Heritage High in Littleton operates on a variable schedule, and students can have “unscheduled time,” or free periods, built into their day—during which they’re encouraged to meet with teachers or counselors, do homework, or visit the school’s 10,000-volume library. The Eagles support a sister school in Sierra Leone.

Jefferson Charter Academy
JEFFERSON COUNTY
    math        reading        writing        frl
    56/62    |    90/63    |    74/57    |    14.15%
Jefferson Charter Academy focuses not just on college preparation, but also on grooming students for an eventual workplace by holding them accountable to a code of conduct on the Broomfield campus. For its small size (325 students), the school has an impressive lineup of athletics and fine arts programs, plus 18 different technology courses.

Lakewood
JEFFERSON COUNTY
    math        reading        writing        frl
    50/45    |    72/35    |    58/44    |    29.34%
With a significant percentage of students receiving FRL assistance and 15 percent who have a primary home language other than English, Lakewood High excels at engaging students academically with options such as the International Baccalaureate program, quiz bowl teams that compete at the national level, and an internationally recognized debate team. The Tigers compete in 5A athletics and offer robust arts and media programs and clubs.

Monarch
BOULDER VALLEY
    math        reading        writing        frl
    56/54    |    79/38    |    64/42    |    5.65%
Monarch High in Louisville offers the most CU Succeed classes (courses for juniors and seniors that earn college credit at a reduced tuition rate) in the state. Students can participate in the High School of Business program—a national college-preparatory program for business administration careers. Monarch also leverages one-to-one computer technology, meaning students have a device to carry with them throughout the day, rather than having to visit dedicated computer labs.

Peak to Peak Charter
BOULDER VALLEY
    math        reading        writing        frl
    59/73    |    94/56    |    37/49    |    7.4%
This K–12 Lafayette charter, a U.S. News & World Report top 50 high school in 2007, focuses on a liberal arts education and college preparation. Its enrollment of almost 600 students ensures ample athletics and activities offerings, including cross country and soccer and Model U.N. and science clubs.

Ralston Valley
JEFFERSON COUNTY
    math        reading        writing        frl
    68/75    |    87/60    |    73/57    |    8.42%

Students at this Arvada school, which opened in 2000, enjoy modern facilities throughout its 50-plus-acre campus, with amenities like state-of-the-art science labs and interactive whiteboards in classrooms. The Mustangs pride themselves on fostering a safe, inclusive, and positive learning environment for the school’s more than 1,500 pupils.


25 Best Restaurants

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Issue reference: 
Intro: 

The fourth-annual ranking of the Denver area’s best restaurants.

Deck: 

After countless lunches and dinners, tens of thousands of calories, and hours of careful deliberation and debate, our fourth annual ranking of the Denver area’s best restaurants is complete. Dig in for a comprehensive, of-the-moment snapshot of the local dining scene.

Spread image: 

1 Frasca Food and Wine (last year 1)
If there’s any question about Frasca Food and Wine’s attention to excellence, look to the restaurant’s long list of accolades. There are write-ups in Bon Appétit, Food & Wine, and the Wall Street Journal, and not one, but two highly coveted James Beard Foundation Awards: one from 2008 for Best Chef: Southwest; the other from earlier this year for Outstanding Wine Program. These nods confirm what Colorado diners have known for years: Frasca is not only the best restaurant in the metro area—it’s one of the nation’s very best. Service, which is driven by co-owner and master sommelier Bobby Stuckey, is graceful, confident, and goes virtually unnoticed until you’re released into the night feeling coddled and indulged. The weighty wine list is worthy of study, but turn choices over to Stuckey, Matthew Mather, and Carlin Karr, Frasca’s team of decorated wine experts, and you’ll never be disappointed. The Italian menu, executed by chef and co-owner Lachlan Mackinnon-Patterson, fulfills the universal human need for comfort—house-made pappardelle tangles with zucchini ribbons in a soul-stirring scallop sauce—in a precise, almost intellectual manner. Perhaps the best part of Frasca is that a visit doesn’t have to be a once-a-year celebration. Sit at the bar and experience the same food and service without committing to a table several weeks out. Or, make a reservation for the Monday tasting dinners, at which you’ll nab a four-course, prix-fixe menu for $50 a person. 1738 Pearl St., Boulder, 303-442-6966, frascafoodandwine.com

2 ChoLon Modern Asian Bistro (last year 3)
Mention ChoLon to a group of friends and someone will instantly reference the soup dumplings. Intended or not, chef Lon Symensma has staked his reputation—and ChoLon’s—on those beautifully wrapped pockets of sweet onion soup and Gruyère cheese. But to only know ChoLon by the dumplings would be an oversight. The pork belly buns are a fully evolved street snack, with artistic dollops of hoisin and unctuous slabs of pork belly slathered with sesame-honey glaze. The steamed buns themselves are doughy, chewy—perfect. Likewise, the Singapore chicken rice will entice you with shreds of poached chicken, tangles of cooling cucumber steeped in the aroma of coconuty-citrusy pandan leaves, and a bowl of fiery sambal for mixing in. Simplicity is not in Symensma’s vocabulary as he applies layer after layer of flavor and technique to balance sweet and savory, hot and cool, Old World and New—to enchanting effect. 1555 Blake St., 303-353-5223, cholon.com

3 Sushi Den (last year 2)
When owner Toshi Kizaki moved Izakaya Den from across Pearl Street to the space next door to Sushi Den, both restaurants underwent substantial change. The kitchens are now combined (and expanded), and though the restaurants function as separate entities, there are windows and doors that connect the two. And yet, Sushi Den, with its ever-fresh selection of seafood, is unwavering and impressive. Our recommendation to avoid the inevitable wait: Leave your name at Sushi Den’s hostess stand and head to Ten Qoo, Izakaya Den’s spectacular upstairs bar and cocktail lounge. On warm evenings, the retractable roof is open to the elements (in fact, “Ten Qoo” means “open sky” in Japanese), and the buzz of the modern, highly designed space is palpable. When your table opens at Sushi Den, pay the tab and head one door down for a feast of jewel-like nigiri and sashimi. Bonus: Don’t want to wait? Go for lunch, when the same impeccable fish grace the menu. 1487 S. Pearl St., 303-777-0826, sushiden.net


4 Mizuna (last year 6)
Eleven years after Frank Bonanno opened Mizuna, some diners might wonder why the lobster macaroni and cheese remains on the menu. After all, Mizuna is known for its innovation. But this was Bonanno’s first signature dish in his first restaurant, and it propelled him onto the Denver scene—and even now, the trifecta of briny lobster, smooth mascarpone, and tender pasta is superb. Today, many years and many restaurants later, the starter can be used as a metaphor for Bonanno’s culinary leanings. The dish signifies decadence, refinement, balance, and ultimately, steadiness—all characteristics present in Bonanno’s ever-expanding empire. And so the lobster macaroni and cheese lives on, alongside more ambitious dishes such as the octopus à la plancha, with its impossibly tender octopus and smoky tomato broth, and an ethereal veal tenderloin draped over a complex onion sauce. Elegant service and a wine-by-the-glass program that surpasses others in terms of interest, breadth, and price will round out the near-perfect evening. 225 E. Seventh Ave., 303-832-4778, mizunadenver.com


5 Bittersweet (last year 11)
A year ago, chef Olav Peterson seemed to suffer from ingredient overload; at times his stunning presentations teetered on flavor imbalance from too many elements. This year, however, Peterson has reverted back to the simplicity that has always been his strength. Dishes such as the duck breast arrive crowned with coins of watermelon radish (sliced just thickly enough to impart delicate crunch) and cherries, which are halved and served in a sauce thickened with the meat’s jus. In a halibut dish, the fish’s delicate sweetness remains the focal point even against plush Meyer lemon gnocchi, brown butter, and a burst of red grapes. Peterson is justifiably proud of where Bittersweet sits today, two and a half years into its run. He credits his staff—many of whom have joined since January—for demanding excellence. One of those new additions is pastry chef Kris Padalino, whose exacting talent (order the terrariumlike dessert Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil) has elevated a dessert program that was already one of the best in the city. 500 E. Alameda Ave., 303-942-0320, bittersweetdenver.com

 

6 Potager (last year 19)
Chef-owner Teri Rippeto subscribes to the ideal that food is only as good as the ingredients themselves. It’s such a basic premise, and yet when Rippeto opened Potager in 1997, she was considered a pioneer in the Denver dining scene. Depending on the season, you will taste the sunniest of summer tomatoes or the earthiest of winter turnips in Rippeto’s dishes. There’s much to be said about leaving an ingredient alone and allowing its natural flavors to bloom, but there have been times in the past when Rippeto had too light a hand. Last year, her attention seemed focused on the top half of the menu. Starters were, without exception, seasoned beautifully and carefully conceived. The entrées, however, did not receive the same consideration. That oversight has since been corrected—and beautifully so. Portions are generous and curated but not overly meticulous. Seasoning is spot-on. Free-flowing service from one of the city’s best teams follows suit. And there’s something about the classically urban space that never ceases to pull you in and make you feel like you’re in the know. 1109 Ogden St., 303-832-5788, potagerrestaurant.com


7 Fruition Restaurant (last year 5)
When Alex Seidel hired Stephanie Caraway, one of Food & Wine’s 2010 sommeliers of the year, he was making a statement. Fruition’s beverage program has never been its strength: The wine list accomplishes what it needs to but without aplomb—which is troublesome for a restaurant that regularly receives national attention. (For that matter, there’s little cocktail fluency either, which is a black mark in today’s drink-crazed culture.) The expectation is that Caraway will infuse the tiny space with a bottle selection worthy of Seidel’s thoughtful cooking. His best dishes are those that reflect his working farm and dairy in Larkspur. Less successful are those that don’t hew to Seidel’s typical subtlety, such as a corn dog–inspired, sausage-stuffed squash blossom. After a trying time for Seidel—he parted ways with co-owner Paul Attardi in December—the addition of Caraway signifies not only a new beginning but also a turning point. This partnership will also be on display at Seidel’s forthcoming restaurant at Union Station. 1313 E. Sixth Ave., 303-831-1962, fruitionrestaurant.com


8 Luca D’Italia (last year 4)
The experience of dining at Luca plays out in chef-owner Frank Bonanno’s elegant Italian dishes, which contain just enough rusticity to not feel overstated. For several years, the kitchen was entrusted to chef de cuisine Hunter Pritchett, who ably melded his talent with Bonanno’s vision. When Pritchett left in January to take a job in Los Angeles, pasta chef Eric Cimino replaced him. Luca’s pastas remain as light and flawless as ever, but other areas of the menu need more precision: Some items are too salty; others could benefit from a bit more seasoning. A recent Arctic char dish, however, displayed Cimino’s sense of balance. The crispy-skinned fish arrived with beautifully cooked artichokes, cannellini and fava beans, and summer squash. One last note: The restrooms of a restaurant such as Luca need to be as expertly executed as the rest of the experience. An overhaul is long overdue. 711 Grant St., 303-832-6600, lucadenver.com


9 Fuel Café (last year 20)
When Bob Blair opened Fuel Café in the heart of the undiscovered TAXI development in late 2007, he did so with a “build it and they will come” mantra. As the restaurant nears its sixth birthday, Fuel has legions of fans who often have to wait for tables. Blair and his kitchen team, executive chef Nate Hamel and pastry chef Justin Hofmann, have turned this once best-kept secret of a restaurant into a dining staple. Dishes such as labor-intensive octopus salami show the crew’s reach, while Fuel’s sweet spot is firmly rooted in the fresh flavors of the season: A butter leaf salad with paper-thin radishes and crispy shallots sounds basic, but nubs of goat cheese—rolled in charred leek ash the color of midnight and plated on sweet pea purée—make the dish artful, exciting, and balanced. Likewise, the chicken frites lighten the traditional French staple (steak and fries) to fit the warm weather. A year ago, Fuel faltered, and dishes were inconsistent from one to the next. Today, however, the restaurant is turning out one exquisite dish after another. 3455 Ringsby Court, #105, 303-296-4642, fuelcafedenver.com


10 Old Major (new to the list)
Luckily for Denver diners, the seafood charcuterie that once graced the menu at Wild Catch lives on at Old Major, chef-owner Justin Brunson’s new venture. This might seem a strange dish to call out on a menu that leans on pork (indeed, Brunson named the restaurant after the pig in Animal Farm), but the assortment of shrimp, mussels, and whitefish demonstrates Brunson’s deft hand with more delicate ingredients. Order that and the Nose-to-Tail (an all-pork dish featuring an array of house-butchered cuts, such as pig ears, confit ribs, pork loin, belly, and ham) to sample the breadth of the menu. The in-the-now vibe is as much a reason to visit Old Major as the food—especially the bar, which is separate from the dining room. Designed to look like an urban barn (with deep red walls, high, joisted ceilings, and tractor filters as light fixtures), the highlight of the restaurant remains the gleaming $250,000 kitchen. 3316 Tejon St., 720-420-0622, oldmajordenver.com

 

11 Oak at Fourteenth (last year 21)
How do you take an oddly shaped, asymmetrical space and make it feel generous and inviting? You embrace Oak at Fourteenth’s technique of contrasting elegant grays with planks of polished oak. You line the back wall with a long bar top that invites you to sip a drink or settle in for a meal. And, most important, you allow the floor-to-ceiling windows to flood the dining room with light. The kitchen does its job by sending out refined dishes touched with oak-wood smoke, which imparts the best of comfort food in each bite. Take chef Steven Redzikowski’s wood oven–roasted beef bones, slick with marrow jam and balanced with tangy anchovy chimichurri and a bright herb salad. Or the charred-scallion mustard sauce that nudges a bacon-wrapped pork loin into the fine-dining category. This is food that’s not meant to be serious (crispy fried pickles with green goddess aïoli), and yet the dishes are so perfectly conceived that they become significant. Bonus: Don’t miss Acorn, Oak at Fourteenth’s Denver offshoot, which recently opened at the Source. 1400 Pearl St., Boulder, 303-444-3622, oakatfourteenth.com


12 The Populist (new to the list)
The Populist is so effortlessly cool that it could have its own soundtrack. The first cut would be the ragged guitar riffs of “Pots and Pans” by indie rock band the Kills. The smoky lyrics are perfectly attuned for sidling up to the bar and ordering a cocktail—make that a variation on a classic, such as an Old Fashioned with Scotch instead of rye whiskey. From there (cue Beck) settle into one of the community tables and order a collection of chef Jonathan Power’s dishes to share. Glasses clink as the earthy beet agnolotti arrives with a paintbrush swatch of magenta stretched across the stark white plate. A roasted carrot dish follows suit with tangy cilantro-carrottop pesto and a tile of pepita brickle that you’ll fight over. Every dinner at the Populist unfolds in the same easy way: to the tune of the neighborhood vibe (song: “Ragtime” by Neko Case) that pulls in the artsy RiNo crowd. The only moments of discord come at the end of the meal—desserts aren’t as strong as Power’s savory dishes. The check more than makes up for it, though: The Populist’s prices are so reasonable, you’ll likely think there’s some mistake. 3163 Larimer St., 720-432-3163, thepopulistdenver.com


13 Beast & Bottle (new to the list)
In January, when Paul and Aileen Reilly announced they were opening Beast + Bottle in Uptown, they immediately declared that the restaurant would not be Encore reincarnated. Instead, the siblings intended to elevate the late-eatery’s best elements. Mission accomplished. Given the Reillys’ penchant for brunch, it’s no surprise that the menu is rife with exalted staples: The burger touts lamb belly; a pork shoulder tostada with charred tomatillos and queso panela replaces huevos rancheros; and the hotcake shows up with dried cherries, pistachios, and lemon curd. But to simply view B+B as a midday spot is to ignore the restaurant’s best asset: dinner. Squeeze into the space, and find it jammed with neighbors sipping wine and fawning over dishes from the tight menu. A dozen or so small plates round out the options—including a don’t-miss vegetable (pea, corn, etc.) soufflé that gracefully demonstrates the Reillys’ innovation and finesse. 719 E. 17th Ave., 303-623-3223, beastandbottle.com

 


14 Cafe Aion (last year 8)
Walk inside Boulder’s Cafe Aion, and you want to stay a while. Breakfast, lunch, or dinner, request a spot near the bank of windows or pull up a seat at the bar and relax into the rhythms of chef Dakota Soifer’s small plates menu. This is food that’s designed for sharing, and Spanish influences are woven through the dishes and their presentations on earthenware platters. Fried cauliflower daubed with toasted cumin, saffron yogurt, and a squeeze of lemon; grilled sardines with lentils, snap peas, and radishes; braised pork shoulder with wheat berries and orange gremolata—the rustic flavors coax you into a satisfied, tranquil state. Even so, there is such a thing as pacing that’s too relaxed. For a restaurant of this caliber, cocktails should arrive promptly and servers shouldn’t disappear. 1235 Pennsylvania Ave., Boulder, 303-993-8131, cafeaion.com


15 Twelve Restaurant (last year 15)
Most restaurants change their menus with some regularity: Some switch out dishes daily or weekly to reflect prime ingredients; others overhaul the entire lineup every month, which is the philosophy to which Twelve’s chef-owner Jeff Osaka subscribes. The caveat, of course, is that if you fall in love with a dish—such as July’s grilled cauliflower “steak” with pearl pasta and green curry and coconut milk—it’s gone within a matter of weeks. This mantra of constant reinvention strips any tedium or boredom from Osaka’s kitchen and keeps Twelve’s dishes relevant and on-trend. The trade-off is that sometimes there’s not enough time between menu changes to perfect every dish. A recent example is the needlessly overwrought duck and goat cheese rillettes starter that resulted in disappointing, muted flavors. One element that is flawless: A dining room that provides a graceful and unencumbered experience. 2233 Larimer St., 303-293-0287, twelverestaurant.com

 

16 Colt & Gray (last year 9)
Service—which can be spotty at so many Denver restaurants—is never an issue at Colt & Gray. Barman Kevin Burke turns out some of the city’s most carefully crafted cocktails, and a seasoned and personable waitstaff attends to the dining room. The front-of-the-house star is headwaiter and sommelier Adam Condit, who carefully listens to preferences, offers suggestions, and gently guides you to the best possible experience. But even with Condit’s watchful eye in the dining room, the dishes coming from chef-owner Nelson Perkins’ kitchen just don’t measure up as they have in the past. Of late, each dish seems to offer both a high point and a flaw: the Burrata, bedecked by stunning heirloom tomatoes, needed salt; the frisée’s crispy poached egg was oozy perfection over woefully overdressed greens; the roasted corn agnolotti sung of cozy, cold-weather food on a sizzling August evening. Perkins’ other projects—a bar named Ste. Ellie and a salumeria called Viande Colorado Charcuterie—might make one wonder whether Colt & Gray is getting the attention it needs. With a bit of TLC, however, we’re sure the restaurant will bounce back to its old—and nearly perfect—self. 1553 Platte St., 303-477-1447, coltandgray.com


17 Table 6 (last year 13)
Four years ago, 5280 published this ranked listing of the area’s best restaurants for the first time. The cover of that issue featured a kitchen scene from Table 6; at the center of that image stood sous chef Carrie Shores rolling pasta dough. Just recently, Shores was promoted to executive chef when Scott Parker left to open Breckenridge-Wynkoop’s Session Kitchen in Platt Park, and although no transition is easy, it was time for a change. Over the years, the clarity of Parker’s crisp, if sometimes overly playful, menus had waned, leaving some dishes—like an underwhelming lamb collar—to adversely affect the overall experience. Shores’ strength comes from having a keen understanding of Table 6’s core values: This is a restaurant that attracts both neighbors and destination diners, but it never takes itself too seriously. Shores, coupled with the aptitude of ever-effusive owner and sommelier Aaron Forman, will surely guide the restaurant to a good place. 609 Corona St., 303-831-8800, table6denver.com


18 Rioja (19 in 2011)
Chef Jennifer Jasinski has been transforming the Denver restaurant scene since she arrived in 2000 to man the burners at Panzano. Some 13 years later, not only does the Wolfgang Puck disciple co-own Rioja, Bistro Vendôme, and Euclid Hall with business partner Beth Gruitch, but she was also the first-ever Denver chef to win the James Beard Foundation Award for Best Chef: Southwest and competed on this season’s Bravo Top Chef Masters. So why, you might ask, does Rioja land at 18 on this list? Jasinski is a fabulously talented chef whose powerful cuisine strikes feminine notes with judicious use of bright, sunny citrus and soft herbal notes. Rioja’s service—managed by Gruitch—is perceptive, generous, and on-point. The big problems are the dated decor and misguided cocktail program, both of which are glaring in light of the skill and talent on display at Rioja. A dining room facelift and the expulsion of overly sweet drinks served in wine glasses with long straws would go a long way toward showcasing Rioja’s considerable strengths. 1431 Larimer St., 303-820-2282, riojadenver.com


19 Duo Restaurant (last year 22)
Skipping over Duo’s vegetarian offerings is nothing short of a missed opportunity. This is, in fact, precisely what the restaurant touts: farm-fresh, as local as possible, and in season. If you can’t detect clean summery flavors or homey autumnal notes in the food you’re eating, then the kitchen hasn’t done its job. A recent meal revealed that executive chef Tyler Skrivanek (who took over from John Broening in February) revels in Duo’s mission. Skrivanek’s been cooking at Duo for seven years, and he’s clearly acquired Broening’s light touch and allegiance to quality. This steadiness transfers beyond vegetables to Duo’s meat and fish dishes—and especially to the merguez lamb meatballs, in which delicate flavorings, local white bean salad, and charred green onion pistou keep the dish light. Eight years after opening, Duo still admirably serves the Highland neighborhood that grew up around it. 2413 W. 32nd Ave., 303-477-4141, duodenver.com


 20 Il Posto (last year 12)
There are few restaurants that embrace the four seasons as heartily as Il Posto. But it’s not only the food at this Italian restaurant; it’s also the space that morphs right along with the changes in the weather. On warm evenings, the garage doors that face 17th Avenue come up for a feeling that is positively alfresco. In the winter, the nearly all-white space takes on a snug, come-in-from-the-cold vibe in which tables pack together, the homey scent of slow-braised meats perfumes the air, and wine glasses cradle Italian reds. To keep current and inspired, Il Posto’s menu changes constantly. Unfortunately, the same swings can also be found in seasoning—sometimes there’s too much, sometimes there’s not enough. The same goes for the service. With a chef-owner as driven as Andrea Frizzi, there’s no excuse for dishes that leave the kitchen lacking his telltale precision. Likewise, Frizzi embodies effusive Italian hospitality, and it’s a shame when his servers don’t always share the same enthusiasm. 2011 E. 17th Ave., 303-394-0100, ilpostodenver.com

 

21 TAG Raw Bar (last year 14)
If there’s a restaurant on this list that truly pulses with urban energy, it’s TAG Raw Bar—but only if you sit in the main (original) dining space. There, tangerine orange barstools line the gleaming white counter and wooden tables. Just feet away in the adjacent space, however, the vibrant colors darken and feel detached. The same goes for the service. When you’re front and center on a barstool, the bartender and chefs (who may also be your servers) are attentive and chatty. When you’re tucked to the side, the service can be sluggish and distracted. But no matter where you sit, the food is bright, fresh, and innovative in a way that few chefs manage as well as Troy Guard. There’s kangaroo loin tartare with peach mustard and rice crackers, and kampachi sashimi marinated in orange soda and plated with citrus. Guard has always pushed the boundaries of Asian cuisine; now, if only he could reconcile the dividing lines inside Raw Bar’s tiny space. 1423 Larimer St., Suite #010, 303-996-2685, tagrawbar.com


22 Linger (last year 10)
When Linger exploded onto the scene in 2011, it was the “it” restaurant: Linger had an in-the-now vibe, a gorgeous crowd, and an exhilarating global menu. Two-plus years on, OpenTable suggests that Justin Cucci’s restaurant is as busy as ever, but go on the early end of the evening, and you’ll find the dining room and bar half-full. This is both a blessing and a curse: Vacant tables mean efficient, attentive service and no wait for cocktails. It also means the vast space can feel a little too empty, almost devoid of the buzz that first defined it. The menus, however, pull the experience back together—no matter what time of the day you’re there. Fewer new items rotate through the kitchen (though brunch has been added), but the available dishes are virtually seamless. The exception: Food served in the bar, and especially during happy hour, doesn’t offer the same degree of finesse. Those sloppy dishes, sadly, sell the otherwise steadfast restaurant short. 2030 W. 30th Ave., 303-993-3120, lingerdenver.com


23 Trillium (last year 16)
If Trillium, Ryan Leinonen’s Scandinavian-influenced American bistro, feels like part of a passing fad, consider this: Although bold-name restaurants such as René Redzepi’s Noma in Copenhagen brought Nordic cuisine into the dining lexicon in a serious way of late, Leinonen is less about trends and more about exploring his own personal roots. He grew up in Michigan, learned to cook under his Finnish grandmother, and later married a Swede. In other words, Leinonen’s cooking is a unique representation of his background. His food bears the clean and bold Nordic stamp, just as it comforts diners in a traditional American fashion. Scandinavian ingredients such as rye, cloudberries, fresh dill, and horseradish are scattered about the menu, but they mingle with standbys such as a grilled pork chop, foie gras, pickled shrimp, and New York strip. Taken as a whole, Leinonen’s dishes offer a sense of discovery that is both worldly and grounded. 2134 Larimer St., 303-379-9759, trilliumdenver.com


24 Euclid Hall (new to the list)
There’s something easy—a sense that you can’t go wrong—at Euclid Hall. You settle into a booth, unfold the paper menu, and study the extensive beer list. The vast selection is geared toward the seasoned drinker (ask about the rotating taps), and enthusiasts appreciate that Euclid isn’t focused solely on Colorado brews. Make a choice, then work backward and pair your beer with chef-owner Jennifer Jasinski and chef de cuisine Jorel Pierce’s polished pub fare. A perfect combination might include a sampler platter of house-cranked sausages and an order of the tangy pickled vegetables, but there’s also the ever-popular roasted cauliflower salad with shishito peppers; the wild mushroom poutine (gravy, fries, and cheese curds); and the knockout brat burger served on a salty, chewy pretzel bun. This is not light eating, but what Euclid offers in terms of a jovial, communal vibe and nuanced dishes goes a long way in offsetting the calorie bonanza. 1317 14th St., 303-595-4255, euclidhall.com


25 Spuntino (new to the list)
When owners John Broening and Yasmin Lozada-Hissom temporarily closed Spuntino several months ago for a remodel, they banished the dessert case to the back. This was not because Lozada-Hissom (a four-time James Beard Foundation–nominated pastry chef) had a change of heart, but instead because so many diners couldn’t see the restaurant that existed beyond the gelato and sweets selections. That meant a terrific neighborhood bistro was getting lost in the shuffle. Now, with a newfangled interior of rustic wood, elegant wallpaper, and a bar that runs the length of the narrow space, Spuntino’s seasonal cuisine sits front and center. The result has been a steady increase in dinner business—momentum bolstered by a new beverage program. Executive chef Nick Ames’ menus come across as fresh, inspired (the risotto made with quinoa and farro—called “quinotto”­—stirred with fresh herbs, and topped with a shaved root salad is just one example), and approachable. Spuntino also offers a tremendous value with entrées ringing in at no more than $18. When the restaurant figures out a more capable hood system, there will be few places that can match its gathering force. 2639 W. 32nd Ave., 303-433-0949, spuntinodenver.com

 

Unveiled

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Intro: 

Discover the hidden world of Denver’s dynamic fine arts scene this fall.

Deck: 

Discover the hidden world of Denver’s dynamic fine arts scene this fall.

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Table of Contents:

 

Denver is having a fine arts “moment.” Nearly two years ago, the acclaimed Clyfford Still Museum sprouted in the Golden Triangle. Last winter, the Denver Art Museum’s Becoming Van Gogh sold out 57 of 83 days (followed next spring by Picasso to Pollock, a collection of 40 iconic artists—Van Gogh, Dali, and Warhol among them). This summer, Denver collector Henry Roath pledged to give the DAM 50 pieces from his celebrated Western art collection, which includes works by Albert Bierstadt and Thomas Moran. And last summer’s “Virga: The Sound Performance”—composer Morton Waller’s sonic interpretation of the sculpture on the Delgany pedestrian bridge over Cherry Creek—recently picked up an award as one of the top 50 public art projects in the country.

What’s behind Denver’s rapidly maturing arts community? You know, besides decades of thoughtful city planning—like “one percent for art” and the Scientific and Cultural Facilities District tax, which contributes roughly $40 million a year to Denver arts and cultural events and organizations—and the chutzpah of galleries like Pirate and RedLine. We talked to museum directors, curators, gallerists, artists, city officials, collectors, and art consultants to find out. Their answers introduced us to some of Denver’s artsiest movers and shakers, illuminated the art of art collecting, revealed how to find (and frame and hang) original works without going broke, and helped us discover this fall’s must-see exhibits. With their assistance, we’re revealing Denver’s blossoming creative side so you can get out and experience it. Trust us, you don’t want to let this moment pass you by.

Found Art
Twelve pieces you need to see right now.
Walking into a museum or gallery can be overwhelming—so much to see and so little direction about what deserves your attention. What if you miss something amazing? Relax. We asked those in the know at the Mile High City’s citadels of fine art to point to one piece every visitor should see this season. Some are gems you might not find on your own; others might only be on display for a few days. If this tapestry of Denver’s fine art finds doesn’t cure your fear-of-missing-out angst, we’re not sure what will.

1 The Clyfford Still museum
The Drawing/Painting/Process exhibition explores the relationship between Still’s drawings and paintings, as with this 1936 ink on paper (PD-43) and 1934 oil on window shade (PH-653). October 4 to February 9, 2014

2 Museum of Contemporary Art Denver
“Crematorium and Cooling Plant in Mauthausen,” part of the MCA’s Heimrad Bäcker exhibition which, features works from the Austrian-born photographer, who captured the ruins—like the drain and rack here—left at Nazi concentration camps. Through January 5, 2014

3 Denver Art Museum
Drawn from a private collection, the DAM’s Passport to Paris exhibit offers a rare look at works from master artists such as Monet, Degas, and Boudin, whose “Trouville, Beach Scene,” is pictured. October 27 to February 9, 2014

4 Plus Gallery
Six porcelain sculptures (each with a different Chinese character on its lower back) make up Allie Pohl’s thought-provoking “Ideal Woman: Tramp Stamp,” part of the Plus Gallery’s Peacocking exhibit. Through October 19

5 Colorado Photographic art Center
Ice: Portraits of Vanishing Glaciers, a series of images taken by James Balog as cameras followed him for the documentary Chasing Ice, stand out in the CPAC’s new LoHi digs. October 31 to December 14

6 Boulder Museum Of Contemporary Art
BMoCA’s four-day MediaLive event brings together artists who explore live audiovisual performance. Don’t miss Los Angeles–based artist Miwa Matreyek’s “Myth and Infrastructure” during its short stint. November 7 to 10

7 Mizel Museum
The “Noah’s Ark” installation by Scott Lyon is on permanent display at the Mizel Museum’s 4,000 Year Road Trip: Gathering Sparks.

8 Robischon Gallery
“Eternal Love 7” is part of a solo show at Robischon by Iraqi photographer Halim Al Karim, who spent three years living in the desert alone to avoid military service under Saddam Hussein. Through November 2

9 Arvada Center for the Arts and Humanities
In “Domestic Conglomerations,” part of Earth Moves, Dylan Beck arranges porcelain shapes based on flight patterns and air-traffic densities—then projects an animation based on previous viewers’ eye movements. Through November 10

10 Kirkland Museum of Fine & Decorative Art
Take a gander at this impressive hand-lacquered French Art Deco wood screen crafted circa
1925 by Jean Dunand. Through December 31
 
11 RedLine
See Debra Baxter’s elegant and street-tough “Crystal Brass Knuckles (I am going to realign your chakras motherf*****),” on display in RedLine’s The Ironic Object show. October 4 to October 27

12 Denver Botanic Gardens
Deep in the Denver Botanic Gardens, Pard Morrison’s Schneewittchen, a fired-pigment-on-aluminum column, emerges from the glassy waters of the tucked-away Gates Montane Garden. Through January 12, 2014

MAESTRO
Meet the people shaping Denver’s fine arts scene.

Adam Lerner
Director, Museum of Contemporary Art Denver
While Denver Art Museum director Christoph Heinrich’s elevation of Denver exhibitions is undeniable, Adam Lerner’s impact on public engagement with art is equally—some might argue, more—impressive. Since the 47-year-old took the helm of the MCA Denver in 2009, the museum has flourished. The success might seem natural for a guy with a doctorate from Johns Hopkins, a master’s from Cambridge, and a bachelor’s from Cornell, but Lerner’s pedigree belies a playfulness atypical of those hallowed halls (and galleries). The man who founded the Lab at Belmar, speaks at TEDx seminars, and has been profiled in the New York Times is the kind of guy who names his dog Kristofferson (after Fantastic Mr. Fox), prefers Mexican beers to super-serious craft ales, and initiates a lecture series pairing two unrelated topics—like Andy Warhol and gin martinis—then turns it into a weekly sellout event that’s been replicated in Boston, Minneapolis, and Mexico City. “Sometimes ‘Art’ with a capital A forgets that we need to provide new meaning,” Lerner says. “Imposing some arbitrary principle forces us to think in different ways.” Not that Lerner can’t do “Art” with a capital A. He’s exposed Denver audiences to emerging stars, such as Isaac Julien and Brazilian artist Tatiana Blass, and in the past year, he has seen donations to the MCA double. Lerner’s real talent, though, remains birthing innovative programming that makes art accessible to us all.

Mark Sink
Photographer, curator
The idea for the Museum of Contemporary Art Denver was born in Mark Sink’s backyard. The small committee that would eventually found (and later, with the help of Sue Cannon, fund) the MCA Denver held some of its first meetings at Sink’s Highland home in 1995, five years after he had returned to Colorado following a decade of hanging out with Andy Warhol and Jean-Michel Basquiat in New York City. Since then, the photographer—whose works hang in Denver’s Rule Gallery, the Hyatt Regency hotel downtown, and in galleries in New York City, Philly, and California—has left his mark on the Mile High City’s art scene. In 2005, he established the biennial Month of Photography Denver (MoP), a coordinated statewide effort to showcase photographic art. “There’s community and power in numbers,” Sink explains. “I’ve always worked to gather people, really talented people.” Mission accomplished: More than 180 galleries and museums throughout Colorado took part in this year’s MoP. It helps that Sink is a talent magnet, a power that has also been on display at his Denver Salon collective, a group of the city’s top photographers that has exhibited everywhere from New York to Japan. For nearly a decade, he also ran the well-received Gallery Sink, and he now curates shows for contemporary art standouts like RedLine. Says fellow art ace Adam Lerner, “Mark accomplishes so much.” We can’t wait to see what he does next.

Ginger White Brunetti
Deputy director, Denver Arts & Venues
If you’ve listened to a bass line reverberate off stone at Red Rocks or watched Swan Lake’s difficult series of fouettés at the Denver Performing Arts Complex, you’ve been touched by Ginger White Brunetti. As the deputy director of Denver Arts & Venues, a city-run agency, White Brunetti’s fingerprints are all over nearly every concert, performance, and cultural event that’s come through town over the past year and a half. But her biggest mark may still be in the works. Launched in March 2013 and headed up by White Brunetti, Imagine 2020 is a kind of artistic think tank with a mission to develop a vision for Denver’s creative future. Currently, Imagine 2020 is in the process of gathering input from Denver residents and arts leaders in order to craft a cultural plan that will go before city council for approval in February 2014. It’s been nearly 25 years since the city engaged in such a major cultural undertaking, and the results of that 1989 effort included the “one percent for art” ordinance (and, consequently, more than 100 public art pieces) and the establishment of the Denver Arts & Venues bureau itself. While White Brunetti is staying mum about specific projects, she expects the plan to integrate arts into daily life via alley murals, flash mobs, and pop-up art exhibits in parks; address arts education; and spotlight assets the city already has, like the McNichols Civic Center Building. “It’s not just our sunshine, great sports teams, and walkable downtown that draw people to the city,” says White Brunetti. “Arts and culture can be part of the story that gets told about Denver as well.”

Deck the Walls
The paint-by-numbers guide to starting your own collection—without going broke.
Before You Buy: The Rules
We have a friend who once tried to throw away a picasso. Of course, she didn’t know it was a Picasso. To her, it was just a sketch she didn’t like that had been collecting dust on her boyfriend’s bookshelf for too long. Funny, yes, but the tale also underscores the first rule of art collecting: Know your taste. Don’t decide you want a Picasso just because it’s what other people like (but don’t throw one away, either). The second rule: Choose work that grows on you.“The longer you look at a painting,” says Tadashi Hayakawa, an artist represented by local gallery and art consultancy firm Artwork Network, “you should start seeing more than you did at first sight.” 
Sound ambiguous? That’s OK. Spend time understanding what you’re drawn to before you buy, recommends Martha Weidmann, co-founder of Denver art consultants Nine Dot Arts. Rip out magazine pictures, hold on to gallery flyers, create a visual Rolodex of things that inspire you. But don’t put too many parameters on what you’re looking for in terms of color, size, and shape, or you’ll be less likely to find it. And the final rule? Don’t worry about matching your painting to your couch.“It’s a piece of art,” says Katherine Lees, a consultant at Nine Dot Arts. “It should stand out.”

Big Wall, Small Wallet
Finding affordable originals.
Shopping for art isn’t like shopping for shoes: You’re purchasing an original, one-of-a-kind item, not the 1,000,000th (think Nike’s LeBron James collection) or even the 100th ($775 Christian Louboutins, anyone?) copy of something. So, expect to spend some money. That said, there are ways to reduce the price:

1 Expand your vocab.“Emerging artist” is code for less expensive.

2 Shop the student shows. Metro State, University of Colorado (Boulder and Denver), Rocky Mountain College of Art & Design, Colorado State University, and the University of Denver offer BFAs (and some give MFAs). Students exhibit their works in fall and spring shows (visit 5280.com/studentart for dates), where you can score great deals and help “discover” Denver’s next star(ving) artist.

3 Go bin-diving. The Art Students League of Denver’s Summer Market sale, typically in early June, has provided many Denver homes with original works—many for less than $100. Other budget-minded options: RedLine’s One Square Foot (November 2), where 12-inch-by-12-inch works are just $100, and the Arvada Center for the Arts and Humanities’ Holiday Art Market (December 12 to 22).

4 Become a paper-phile. Most galleries have unframed paper works—sketches, watercolors, pastels, or charcoal drawings—that are more affordable than oil on canvas. The William Havu Gallery, for example, has a huge collection of works on paper. Just ask to see them.

5 Shop in unexpected places. See something you like on the walls of your favorite restaurant or coffeeshop? Ask if it’s for sale. Crema, Common Grounds, MegaFauna, Fancy Tiger, the Shoppe, the Boulder Library, and even the Buffalo Exchange on 13th Street display rotating for-sale works, often created by local artists.

6 Split the cost. Early this year, the Boulder Museum of Contemporary Art launched a CSA (that’s community supported art) program of sorts: Each year, BMoCA gives 100 people the opportunity to buy an art “share” for $400. Your share means you get (to keep) nine pieces created by local contemporary artists like printmaker Viviane Le Courtois (but you don’t get to choose what the art looks like). You also will meet the makers at the distribution party.

For Rent
By Caitlin Donnelly

While Ikea art might be fine for a dorm room, it’s hardly going to cut it in a chic Denver restaurant. But filling a few thousand square feet of empty wall space can prove expensive. Artwork Network, a local art consultancy firm, eases the pain with its art rotation program. For $150 to $800 per month, Artwork Network rotates a selection of original pieces—many by local artists—every 90 days, providing businesses with affordable decor and artists with exposure (all of the works are for sale). Currently, 114 pieces are in circulation. We traced one work’s path around the city before it found a permanent home in Cherry Creek.

The House That Art Built
An exclusive look at one of the city’s most lively private collections.

Despite owning dozens of paintings, drawings, sculptures, and video installations, Ellen Bruss and Mark Falcone don’t consider themselves art collectors.
Instead, they collect friends…friends who happen to be artists or artists who become friends. They’ve built relationships with internationally renowned video installation artist Isaac Julien, Denver painter Stephen Batura, and many others whose works have been shown at the Museum of Contemporary Art, which sits right next door to the couple’s three-floor home.
“Everyone collects art differently,” says Bruss, who runs EBD, a marketing and design firm in RiNo. Bruss and Falcone seek out smart pieces that provide an interesting message or a new perspective—pieces they find a connection to, sometimes created by artists with whom they’ve developed strong relationships.
Living 25 feet from the MCA—a situation created when Falcone donated the land upon which the museum was built in 2007—helps with the latter part. The couple, who met in 2000 and married in 2003, regularly host visiting MCA artists in their David Adjaye–designed home. The 6,000-square-foot house is filled with vibrant creations—many acquired early in the couple’s courtship. “When we started dating, I began buying Mark art as gifts,” says Bruss, who grew up in Milwaukee watching her mother collect local artists’ works. When Bruss moved to Denver in the ’80s, she continued the family tradition, buying pieces from the boundary-pushing Pirate gallery. There she met artists like Batura and William Stockman, with whom she developed long-term friendships.
Today, those same artists feature prominently in the couple’s home, alongside works by 16th-century Italian artists and others. “We like to weave in local artists’ work with national artists’ work and show it holds up,” Bruss says. And, we’d argue, in some cases even outshines it.
 

1 “True North” by Isaac Julien
In 2006, Bruss and Falcone made one of their first purchases together, an Isaac Julien video installation called “True North.” Stills from “True North,” inspired by black American
explorer Matthew Henson—one of the first men to reach the North Pole—hang in the couple’s living room; the roof holds the installation itself. The couple met Julien that year at the Lab at Belmar, where the English artist was showing. (Julien has also exhibited at the Centre Pompidou in Paris.) They’ve since bought two more of his works, “Fantome Afrique” and “Western Union:
Small Boats.” “They’re all super layered pieces,” Bruss says. “Whether for beauty, story line, or technical expertise—any way you look at them, they’re amazing.”
 

2 “The Secret of Bee Hives” and “Lepidotera” by David Zimmer
Bruss met Denverite David Zimmer—who crafts funky sculptures, built from castoff material, that play video and emit sound—in LoDo through friends in the 1980s. Today, he’s gained national exposure thanks to art fairs like Miami Beach’s Art Basel, where his unique work was recently displayed. Such shows are helping combat the idea that work created outside of major art centers is somehow second-class. “New York and L.A. just have the cachet and credibility, but art fairs are changing that,” Bruss says. “They’re really helping to get local artists exposure.”
 

3 “Misconception” by Stephen Batura
Bruss and Batura became acquainted 25 years ago at Denver’s Pirate gallery. “It was a hot spot,” she says. “A lot of the well-known galleries’ artists started there—like Robischon. DAM curators would even come over to look at shows.” Since then, she’s watched her friend’s star rise: Batura has had shows at the MCA and has seen his work go from selling for a couple hundred dollars to upward of $5,000. Bruss has been a part of the process, too, making frequent stops by Batura’s studio to view in-progress work. “I like seeing how artists take the vision for something and craft a piece,” she says.

4 “Firmament” by William Stockman
Bruss purchased this piece in 2006 after visiting the studio of her old
acquaintance from Pirate, Stockman, to get some framing done. While there, she discovered he’d returned to acrylic paintings, beyond his charcoal sketches. “I thought they were amazing,” says Bruss, gesturing to “Firmament” which hangs in the living room. “I think Bill’s work is sad and happy and true. ‘Firmament’ seems like a dream state of who is in your thoughts.” Bruss and others pushed Stockman to show his new work. Two years later, Stockman snagged a show at the Mizel Museum, and in 2010, he landed one at the MCA.

5280.com Exclusive: Even more shows, and student art shows, you shouldn't miss.

Shows To Know
Our picks for the gallery shows you shouldn’t miss this fall.
• British artist Daniel Eatock’s experiential An Empty Room: The Sequel at the Rocky Mountain College of Art & Design, through Oct. 10 
•  Coalesce and Fault, a mother-son show at Ice Cube Gallery, through Oct. 12 
•  John Ferguson’s imposing steel sculptures at Ironton Studios and Gallery, through Oct. 19 
•  Heart, Wax & Stone by acclaimed sculptors Jill Shwaiko and Mark Yale Harris, at Mirada Fine Art Gallery, through Oct. 20 
•  Con-Form-ation I: Farmland, the first of a three-part photography series about eastern Colorado, at Evan Anderman Gallery, through Oct. 26 
•  Matthew Harris and Tobias Fike’s interactive video installation at Vertigo Art Space, through Oct. 26 
•  True Grit, a new take on Western art, at Mai Wyn Fine Art, through Nov. 9 
•  Contemporary art from the Addison collection in Paper/Product, at the University of Colorado Boulder Art Museum, through June 21, 2014 
•  Byers-Evans House Gallery’s three-artist exhibition featuring winners from the 2012 Denver Plein Air Arts Festival, Oct. 4–26 
•  JFK photos and vintage vacuum cleaner rocket sculptures by Jimmy Descant at Leon Gallery, Oct. 4–28 
•  Painter Robert McCauley’s solo show at Visions West Gallery, Oct. 4–31 
• Lovely and Amazing, 3-D collages by Abecedarian Gallery owner Alicia Bailey, at Niza Knoll Gallery, Oct. 4–Nov. 8 
•  Aspen painter and sculptor Tania Dibbs at the Carmen Wiedenhoeft Gallery, Oct. 4–Nov. 16 
•  Varied works by University of Denver alumni at the Victoria H. Myhren Gallery, Oct. 4–Nov. 17 
•  Ceramics artist Dave Crane’s Edges at Plinth Gallery, Oct. 4–Nov. 30 
•  Colorado Bike Culture at Denver Photo Art Gallery, Oct. 10–Nov. 30 
•  Excess and As It Was and Never Will Be, featuring new paintings by Jennifer Hope and Rachel Prago, at Edge Gallery, Oct. 11–Nov. 3 
•  Write, I See: Ekphrastic Response, in partnership with Lighthouse Writers Workshop, at Art Students League of Denver’s Carson Gallery, Oct. 11–Nov. 22 
•  A Revised History, Denver painter CT Nelson’s solo show, at Knew Conscious Gallery, Oct. 12–Nov. 1 
•  Colorado native and mixed media artist William Lee Ashley’s Memory at Anthology Fine Art, Oct. 18—Nov. 30 
•  Jon Koenigsberg’s dark, angular mobiles at CORE New Art Space, Oct. 24–Nov. 10 
•  Found art collages and iPhone photography at Spark Gallery, Oct. 24–Nov. 17 
•  Don Stinson’s new paintings at the David B. Smith Gallery, Oct. 25–Nov. 23 
•  University of Colorado Denver Faculty Biennial at Emmanuel Gallery, Oct. 31–Nov. 14 
•  Denver Arts Week, multiple locations, see denver.org/denverartsweek for details, Nov. 1–9 
•  Modest X 4, a four-artist exhibit at Abecedarian Gallery, Nov. 1–Dec. 14 
•  Pop artist Louis Recchia at Pirate gallery, Nov. 8–24 
•  Genetic Time Bomb, Thomas Robertson’s perspective on Alzheimer’s disease, at GroundSwell Gallery, Nov. 9–Dec. 10 
•  Paintings by Drop City founder Clark Richert at the Gildar Gallery, Nov. 15–Jan. 4

Digging for Gold

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A 5280 preview to the Nuggets’ 2013-14 season.

Deck: 

With a new coach, a new front office, and at least four promising new players, the Nuggets’ 2013–14 season is certain to be a roller coaster ride of transition. We mined the history books and picked the brains of local analysts—and of the Nuggets’ new coach himself—to give you an insider’s look at the franchise’s past, present, and future. 

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Bouncing Back

When the 2012–13 Nuggets followed their NBA franchise-record 57-win season with a long playoff run, fans couldn’t wait to see what coach George Karl and general manager Masai Ujiri would cook up next for the budding Western Conference powerhouse.

That’s how a 2013–14 Nuggets preview might have started if not for the series of unanticipated changes, setbacks, and regrettable behavior that defined our team’s spring and summer. First, the white-hot Warriors ran the Nuggets out of the proverbial gym in April. The upset, in part, cost Karl his job, and Ujiri soon followed him out the door. When the team’s top free agent, Andre Iguodala, defected to Golden State, sports outlets far and wide dubbed Denver one of the offseason’s unqualified “losers.”

Are the naysayers right? True, Karl was last year’s NBA Coach of the Year and is a likely hall-of-famer. Yes, Ujiri was the 2012 Executive of the Year and is a rising front-office star. Yes, replacing AI’s defense and all-around play will be difficult. And yes, the tough Western Conference—especially the Clippers, Rockets, Wolves, and Blazers—has become considerably tougher.

But before we spiral into freak-out mode, let’s take a closer look at the Nuggets’ new roster. No one they have now can defend like Iguodala; the holdovers might not even be as good on D as the also-gone Corey Brewer. However, neither Iguodala nor Brewer could shoot. At all. (The pair barely hit 30 percent of their almost 600 attempted three-pointers, an unconscionable display of bricklaying.) In new guards Randy Foye and Nate Robinson, the Nuggets have far superior gunners from both three-point land and the free-throw line. In tandem with Ty Lawson, Wilson Chandler, the developing Evan Fournier, and (eventually, when he recovers from his knee injury) Danilo Gallinari—accomplished shooters all—the Nuggets’ wingmen should be far more efficient than last year’s group.

Down low, the team will be even more gritty and athletic: Scrappy newcomer J.J. Hickson will back up Kenneth Faried, and the electric JaVale McGee finally gets his long-clamored-for chance to take starter minutes from the departed (and leaden) Kosta Koufos. McGee will be a wild card until we figure out whether his—let’s say, offbeat—noodle can catch up to his incredible physical gifts. (In 2012, buzzfeed.com affectionately named him the NBA’s weirdest player.) Overseeing this revamped unit will be first-time head coach Brian Shaw, who’s long been considered one of the brightest young minds in basketball. That the Nuggets were the team to finally give him his chance isn’t just an overdue move—it should be considered a coup.

We’re not suggesting the Nuggets will match last year’s 57 wins. But with its core intact (and the anticipation of Gallinari’s return, rumored to be around the end of December), something in the range of 42 to 48 wins and a playoff berth seem possible. And if Shaw can coax mental and physical excellence from this youthful squad of explosive athletes, the Nuggets’ next era could be pure gold.

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Clean Slate
Highlights from the Nuggets’ 2013–14 home schedule.
11/1 Blazers
Home opener.
11/5 Spurs 
The defending Western Conference champs make their first of two Pepsi Center visits.
11/13 Lakers 
Will Kobe be back from his torn Achilles tendon?
11/29 Knicks 
Melo returns for the Nuggets’ only home game in a three-week stretch.
12/17 Thunder
Still one of the teams to beat in the West.
12/23 Warriors
First chance to avenge last year’s playoff upset, and now the W’s will have Iguodala in tow.
12/30 Heat
LeBron and the champs make their only Denver appearance—until the NBA Finals. 
1/25 Pacers
Coach Shaw faces his old team, an Eastern Conference favorite.
2/3 Clippers
CP3 and the best five in L.A. finally land in Denver.
2/27 Nets
Celtics fans, this is where most of your favorites play now.
3/31 Grizzlies
Another Western powerhouse arrives at the end of a tough four-game stretch, including one game against Oklahoma City and two versus San Antonio.
4/9 Rockets
Dwight Howard makes his only visit to the Pepsi Center.
4/16 Warriors
One last tune-up before the playoffs.

Time to Shine
With nearly a decade of experience as an NBA assistant coach, new Nuggets head coach Brian Shaw has more than paid his dues; now he plans to instill the confidence his team needs to win the championship he’s enjoyed five different times. Here’s how.

RESUMÉ
Born: March 22, 1966, Oakland, California
College: University of California at Santa Barbara
Playing career: 1988–2003 (seven NBA teams)
Coaching career: 2005–11 (Lakers); 2011–13 (Pacers)
Family: Wife Nikki Shaw, three kids

For the past five years or so, Brian Shaw’s name seems to have been connected to virtually every head coaching vacancy in the NBA. The reason? The guy is simply a winner. The owner of five championship rings—three as a player, two as an assistant coach (all with the Lakers)—Shaw has played or coached alongside some of the biggest names in NBA history: Kobe, Shaq, Larry Bird, and Phil Jackson, among many others. This past summer, he sat down with 5280 (before he’d even had the chance to unpack his office) to discuss roster tweaks, his expectations for the coming season, and what he learned from all those legends.

5280: How many head coaching jobs have you interviewed for?
Brian Shaw: This was my 12th.
 

5280How did you start to feel after the sixth or seventh?
BS: I’ve been a finalist in a few different situations, but I never really got discouraged. It gave me an opportunity to continue to learn. I left Los Angeles for Indiana [in 2010] to be in a different system. I’d been typecast as just a “triangle” guy [the complex system coach Phil Jackson rode to 11 championships]. But I played for seven different teams with multiple coaches and systems, and most of them ran more common sets. But honestly, I think my association with the triangle might have scared some people, even though about 70 percent of the league runs it in some form.
 

5280Do you know what system you’ll run?
BS: I’ll tailor it to the guys. I have an idea of what I want to do, but Denver teams have a history of taking advantage of the altitude, getting up and down the floor. Obviously, we want to keep some of that, but the teams I’ve been around have had success playing a more traditional style with an inside presence. We have to develop JaVale McGee and [Timofey] Mozgov. The team last year didn’t really utilize some of the things I feel those two can do, so putting them in a position to succeed and building their confidence will be a big part of it. We’re very solid at the guard positions with Ty Lawson, Nate Robinson, Randy Foye, and Andre Miller. The one concern I have is they’re all pretty small. Guys like Evan Fournier, who has a more prototypical size for a guard, will have to develop. And we still have to see what Jordan Hamilton and Quincy Miller can do. And our free-throw shooting has to greatly improve, especially if we’re going inside more. It doesn’t do any good to pound the ball inside if you can’t make them pay from the line.

5280: What differences have you noticed so far about being the head coach instead of 
an assistant?
BS: You never know all the administrative things that go on until you’re here. That and talking to the media almost every day. As assistants we didn’t have to do that. Now it all comes through you, so I’ve been learning to balance it. The first couple days I was doing so much I wasn’t eating. I’d look up and it was 5 p.m., and I’d wonder why I had a headache.

5280: How does this position feel different from other jobs you’ve interviewed for?
BS: I’m taking over a playoff team, although it will be a different team than last year’s. For me, it’s a great situation. Usually a first-time coach comes in to a rebuild or a teardown, and you have to take your lumps. So I feel fortunate.

5280How do you plan to talk about your five championship rings to this group?
BS: I’ll talk a lot about what it takes to go deep into June and how you have to be committed together from the jump. At some point I’ll probably bring the rings in and let the guys see them. I’ve done it in the past, usually right before the playoffs start, to hit home that “this is what you play for.” Obviously, the money and notoriety are great [ED: The role-playing Shaw banked more than $28 million in salary during his 14-year NBA career], but when you get these rings, you become part of an elite club. When you put on weight and lose all your hair, the guys make fun of you. They can say whatever they want, but they still have to call me a champion.

5280: What have you learned from all the legends you’ve been around?
BS: For the guys who were truly great—not just players, but GMs like Red Auerbach and Jerry West—it starts with work ethic, as well as knowledge of and respect for the game. I was fortunate to come onto a veteran team [as a rookie] with the Celtics. They taught me how to be a pro, how to take care of your body if you want to have longevity. And I saw the same thing at the end of my career with the Lakers. Being around great players and executives and seeing their expectation level means I’ve always expected to play deep into the playoffs, and I feel like I know what it takes. It can happen with this team as long as everything falls into place.

 

The Show Must Go On
The Nuggets’ director of game presentation takes us inside game night at the Pepsi Center.
Anyone who’s ever attended a Nuggets game is familiar with its frenetic and fun off-court entertainment: The dance team’s funky routines. The “Super Squad” firing T-shirts from cannons into the crowd. Rocky dropping from the ceiling or hitting no-look half-court shots. Halftime performances ranging from acrobats to rappers. And behind it all, one man: Shawn Martinez. Since 2002, the Nuggets’ director of game presentation has overseen the seemingly seamless package that unfolds every game night at the Pepsi Center. “I’m in control of just about everything the players don’t do,” the 45-year-old says. Here, he walks us through his typical game day for an inside perspective on what it takes to produce one of Denver’s most enjoyable nights on the town.
• 9 a.m. A 2.5-hour game usually means a 13-hour day for Shawn Martinez, who hones his production skills by spinning DJ gigs around town under the name Tribal Touch. So the Fort Lewis College alum arrives at the Pepsi Center early to make sure he’s prepared.
• 10 a.m. Martinez starts his workday by updating the game script, including which videos and ads will appear on the scoreboard (and when) and what the timeout plans are for the dancers, Rocky, and the Super Squad.
• Two hours before tipoff It’s time for the sound check with whoever is performing the national anthem. The singers are selected at auditions in September and slated throughout the season.
• One hour before tipoff As fans file in, Martinez watches to ensure the pregame programming—videos and presentations—go smoothly. This year fans will enjoy the addition of a new high-definition scoreboard that’s three times the size of the old screen, as well as a new sound system (read: sensitive listeners, bring your ear plugs).
• Pregame The Super Squad fires a round of T-shirts into the crowd—the first of many such stunts. The NBA checks in once per year and during the offseason to let Martinez and his league counterparts know what’s working and what’s not. Last year they noted the T-shirts were a big hit. Among the league’s latest (and long overdue) suggestions is to turn off the music while the ball’s in play.
• Just before tipoff Martinez checks in with the marketing department to confirm the attendance of game ball recipients, an occasional happening, and where they will be seated. (Recent honorees include Missy Franklin, Governor John Hickenlooper, and Mayor Michael Hancock.)
TIPOFF Once the game starts, Martinez sits next to PA announcer Kyle Speller so he can listen, watch for changes, and react accordingly—such as a 20-second timeout switching to a full or an injury causing his performers to lose one of their scheduled slots.
• Halftime Martinez also oversees the booking of halftime acts, which the organization tries to change yearly—with the exception of rapper Vanilla Ice, who’s killed it twice on the Pepsi Center hardwood. This year Debbie Gibson might make an appearance for ’80s night. Since halftimes are too short to move an entire band on and off the court, these acts can bring their own headaches, such as when Martinez had to switch to a backup CD when one act’s music didn’t cue.
• Third quarter Now things get interesting, depending on whether the Nuggets are down 10, up 10, or if the crowd is hyped. The latter part of the game is when you might see a “hot” timeout, when all the performers hit the floor to keep the arena’s energy bubbling. But if the Nuggets are trailing by 20, Martinez won’t prolong the agony with extra entertainment.
• After the buzzer Martinez concludes the night with a meeting with his crew to discuss what worked and what didn’t and how to improve for the next game.

Sure Shot
The Nuggets’ team photographer, Garrett Ellwood, who has worked for the NBA since 1995, shares the keys to capturing an NBA game.
Setup. I usually sit right next to the basket on a fold-up camp chair. I use six cameras: two in my hands and four at the other end that I’ll fire remotely. They might sit on a catwalk, behind the backboard, or above or below the basket, depending on who’s playing. If a team like the Miami Heat is in town, I’ll use every camera I have.
Photo shop. I send about 50 select shots to Getty Images each night, out of about 800 I shoot during a game.
There will be blood—but you won’t see it. The photos are marketing for the league, so I’m looking mostly for “cleaner” action shots. I have a ton of pictures from fights or players bleeding from injuries, but they rarely see the light of day.
Crash test dummy. I’ve been run over I don’t know how many times. I got killed at summer league this year; there were just a lot of guys trying to make the team, and I got crushed four or five times in Vegas.
Say “cheese.” I was in L.A. when Shaq was there, and he knocked the shit out of me one time, under the seats and into someone’s nachos. I was on the Jumbotron. It was a disaster; I had that cheesy sauce all over me the rest of the game.
How to take a hit. We photographers just hope we don’t hurt one of the guys. We’re sitting there with metal objects, so the last thing we want to do is cut someone or trip them up.
Tight quarters. Some buildings are way worse than others. Sacramento has to be the worst. The patrons’ knees are in your back, and you’re getting kicked by a ref the whole time.
The money shot. We try to make the crowd look good. It’s easier during the playoffs when they hand out towels and T-shirts. And Getty has big demands for celebrity shots, especially during the NBA Finals or an All-Star Game. Sometimes it seems like you focus more on that stuff than on the game.
Rocky bombs. My remote cameras get knocked out all the time. The one above the basket is especially vulnerable to half-court shots. But it’s mostly Rocky. I want to kill him when he does that half-court shot; he’s drilled my camera like three times, but it’s such a good angle I have to put it up there and deal with what happens.
The camera loves them. Allen Iverson was awesome to shoot—he was always slashing to the basket, yelling, flailing. Melo was great. Nenê always seemed like he was looking at the camera. JaVale McGee is a goofball, just a funny guy, so he’s fun to shoot.

Off-Court Admissions
Little known facts about some of your favorite Denver players.
 

Kenneth Faried
Power Forward
Was the first athlete member of Athlete Ally, a nonprofit that works to encourage the acceptance of others and end homophobia in sports.
Attended the launch of One Colorado to celebrate the passing of Senate Bill 11, the Colorado Civil Unions Act.
 

Evan Fournier
Shooting Guard
Wears No. 94 because it’s the area code in his home region of France.
Inspired Evan: Le Reve Américan (The American Dream), a film about his rise from the French pro leagues to the NBA, which premiered in Paris on October 17.

Randy Foye
Shooting Guard
Has a degree in geography from Villanova. Started the Randy Foye Foundation in 2007 to help inner-city kids in his hometown of Newark, New Jersey.

Nate Robinson
Point Guard
Is the oldest of seven siblings.Dunked for the first time at age 13. (In case you’re thinking BFD, he’s five-foot-nine now.) Played defensive back for the University of Washington football team in 2002 before his father convinced him to give up the sport and concentrate on basketball.
Produces a Web series, “State of Nate,” that chronicles his life on and off the court.

Jordan Hamilton 
Small Forward
Has an older brother (Gary) who played basketball at the University of Miami and played pro ball internationally in Japan, Germany, and elsewhere; his two younger brothers, Isaac and Daniel, are considered top prospects in college and high school, respectively.

Hoop Dreams
A history of basketball in Denver.
1895
James Naismith, having invented “basket ball” in 1891, moves to Denver to work for the Denver YMCA.
1935
Colorado’s first Amateur Athletic Union team, the Denver Safeway-Piggly Wigglys, plays at the Denver Auditorium.
1939
The team changes its name to the Nuggets for two seasons.
1949–50
The professional Denver Nuggets play one season in the NBA, finishing 11-51, before dissolving.
1967
Founded as the Denver Larks, the team becomes the Rockets after trucking magnate Bill Ringsby buys it for $350,000.
1974
Name change: The Rockets become the Nuggets.
1976
The team loses to the New York Nets, led by Julius Erving, in the last-ever ABA Finals before the ABA-NBA merger.
1977–79
Three straight excellent regular seasons are capped off with three straight premature playoff exits.
1981–82
The team scores at least 100 points for 136 straight games, averaging 126.2 per game—both records.
1983
The Detroit Pistons beat the Nuggets 186-184 in triple OT, the highest-scoring game in league history.
1984
McNichols Arena hosts its first NBA All-Star Game, highlighted by the inaugural slam-dunk contest.
1985
The Nuggets reach the Western Conference Finals for the second time before losing to the Lakers.
1987–88
The Nuggets win 54 games but are once again upset in the playoffs.
1990–91
The team gives up more than 130 points per game, earning the nickname ’Enver Nuggets (no “D”).
1994
The team becomes the first 8-seed to upset a top seed in round one of the playoffs, thanks to Dikembe Mutombo’s 31 blocked shots over five games.
1996
Converted Muslim Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf (Chris Jackson) causes a national controversy when he refuses to stand for the “Star-Spangled Banner.”
1999
The team vacates McNichols Arena for the Pepsi Center.
2000
Stan Kroenke purchases the team and the NHL’s Colorado Avalanche.
2003
A 17-65 record enables the team to draft Carmelo Anthony with the third overall pick. The Nuggets win 43 games the following season and haven’t finished under .500 since.
2009
A Western Conference Finals loss to the Lakers ends the Nuggets’ best season since 1985.
2011
Anthony is traded to the New York Knicks.
2012–13
Déjà vu. The team wins an NBA franchise-record 57 games before being upset in round one of the playoffs.

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Issue reference: 
Intro: 

When Jillian Groh checked in to the downtown Westin Hotel one cold night things changed forever.

Deck: 

When Jillian Groh checked in to the downtown Westin Hotel one cold night almost seven years ago, everything felt certain. Then things changed forever.

Spread image: 

In the early hours of Sunday, March 4, 2007, an elevator door on the 17th floor of the Westin Denver Downtown parted with a ding. A six-foot-two, 260-pound man dressed in a black suit stepped out. A nametag pinned near his lapel identified him as Nathan Robinson, a Westin security guard. Robinson heard a noise in the otherwise quiet hallway. The noise grew louder as Robinson traced the sound to room 1715. He knocked. 

More than half of the 28 rooms on this particular floor were booked, yet no one had called the front desk to file a complaint. Still, Robinson was certain he had heard muffled voices as he patrolled the 19th floor. Robinson would later say he had “heard every voice” in the room, from two floors above. 

On the other side of the door was a group of women and men in their early 20s, some lounging on the floor, others sprawled upon the tightly tucked sheets and blankets covering the room’s two double beds. They hadn’t been there long, maybe 30 minutes. Hours earlier, three of the women had checked in to the Westin before leaving to hit the bars in LoDo. One of them, Jillian Groh, had recently learned she’d made the Colorado Rapids cheerleading squad, and the friends were celebrating. During the night, they met up with a few of their guy friends. They all drank until the bars closed and then made their way to the Westin. 

When they heard the knock, Jill, who had a mop of curly, bleached-blond hair, answered the door. Robinson would later tell a police officer he asked her to step out of the room. He said everyone needed to quiet down, and if he had to warn them again, they would face eviction. Jill responded that they’d all watch their volume—no problem. Since she’d been a little girl, Jill’s family and friends had always told her she had a warm smile, but Jill’s demeanor when she spoke to Robinson did nothing to put the guard at ease. Instead, it was almost as if her poise angered him.

Robinson pushed past Jill into the middle of the room. He told everyone to calm down before they disturbed other guests. Robinson’s actions might have startled anyone, but Jill had studied hospitality management in college and would have known the man’s behavior was inappropriate. She asked to speak to a manager. In response, according to court documents, Robinson threatened eviction for a second time. More than one person in the room got the impression Robinson enjoyed the confrontation. 

Robinson called for assistance. A second security guard, and then the manager on duty, arrived. Though their presence was meant to help diffuse the tense situation, it only escalated things. One of the girls in the room said the second guard asked to see identification, and when he saw she was from Arizona, he said, “Well, welcome to Denver.... Now get the fuck out.” The guards later said they proposed a deal: Jill and her girlfriends would stay, and everyone else would leave. But the guests said they were told “Time’s up” and “You’re out of here.”

The girls gathered their things, and everyone headed to the lobby. One of Jill’s friends unsuccessfully pleaded with hotel staff to let them all stay. “What do you want us to do? Where do you want us to go? We’re all drunk.” 

The group passed a Denver Police officer in the hallway. No one spoke to the officer. Moments later, in the lobby, the group encountered a second police officer, and this time one of the guys walked up to him and asked, “Are you here for us?” Westin staff had requested an officer be dispatched to the hotel, but for a separate incident—a drunken girl who fell in the lobby. The officer said he wasn’t there for them.

Jill fumbled for her phone and called her older brother, George, in Arizona. Jill’s sister, Jennifer, works for Starwood Hotels & Resorts Worldwide, the Westin’s parent company. (Jill’s brother also works for the company.) Jennifer had used her employee discount to book Jill’s room. When George called back a minute later, Jill cried and rambled into the phone. 

We’ve all been out partying. We came back to the hotel. Everybody’s drunk. They’re kicking us out. Jen’s going to get in big trouble. 

“Jillian, Jennifer’s not going to lose her job,” George said, attempting to calm his sister. “Just relax.”

I have to go, Jill said, still crying as she hung up. 

The group walked out of the Westin around 3:15 a.m. One of the guys looked around for a taxi, and then turned back to Robinson, who was standing near the hotel doorway, his arms folded across his chest. “Hey man, it’s freezing out here. Can we wait in the lobby while we get a cab?” 

“No,” Robinson said. “Get the fuck out of here.” 

Standing near the Westin’s front entrance, Robinson watched the group walk toward the underground parking garage next to the hotel.

 

On any given night, Black Hawk’s casinos are filled with people betting on chance, hoping the random flip of a card or twirl of a roulette wheel might produce a bit of good fortune. Black Hawk was in the rearview mirror of Sun Chon’s Acura MDX as she drove east on the early morning of March 4, 2007. Chon navigated the tight turns on her way home to the Denver area. Sometime before 4 a.m., some 45 miles after leaving Black Hawk, Chon exited I-25 south and merged onto I-225. Less than a mile later she felt a bump beneath the car. The jolt compelled her to pull over. Chon inspected the vehicle: One of the tires was flat. She called a family friend for help. 

Not long after he got the call, Hun Choi showed up in his Ford Expedition. Beneath the glow of a streetlight, he attempted unsuccessfully to fix the flat. Figuring it was best to get off the highway, Choi decided he would drive the disabled car to the next exit and then take stock of the situation. The exit for South Parker Road was only a few miles away. To be safe, he would drive the Acura and have Chon follow in his SUV. They both pulled back onto the highway close to 4 a.m. Their hazard lights pulsed into the night as they made their way toward the exit at about 15 miles per hour. It seemed as if they were the only ones on the road.


Jill tossed the keys to her silver PT Cruiser to Angela Reed, a friend from college. The group decided to head back to Jill’s apartment not far from the Denver Tech Center. Seven people piled into the car: Angela got into the driver’s seat, and Jill and three others crammed in the back. Jill’s roommate, Jacquelyn Paisal, sat on the lap of one of the guys in the passenger seat. No one clicked on a seatbelt. 

Angela maneuvered out of the garage, drove past a cabstand along Lawrence Street half a block north of the 16th Street Mall, and ended up on I-25. The car was quiet. Angela glanced in the rearview mirror as she drove. She saw Jill flirting with one of the guys in the back—a guy Angela had been involved with. Angela continued to steal glances as she exited the southbound lanes of I-25 and eventually got on I-225 north. The car was traveling at least 60 miles per hour when Jacquelyn noticed what looked like brake lights in the distance. They approached so quickly it was almost as if the car was parked in the right lane. “Angela,” Jacquelyn said. “Are you going to stop?”

 

Bill and Janelle Groh met at Arizona State University in 1969. Janelle was born in Nebraska. Her family later moved to Colorado, and she attended Lakewood High School, in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains. Bill grew up in Iowa. He joined the Air Force out of high school, and while he was enlisted, his family moved to Arizona. It’s easy to miss someone among thousands of students on a college campus, but Bill didn’t miss Janelle; he was drawn to her the moment he saw her. Bill asked a mutual friend to arrange a date. Janelle smiles when she tells the story, all these years later, about how they went dancing at a nearby hotel lounge.

As a fraternity brother in his Arizona State days, Bill would often stay up all night. But as a father he developed an early-to-bed, early-to-rise routine, so it was no surprise that on Sunday, March 4, 2007, he was up before 6 a.m. He drove, as he often did, to the 24-hour Walmart down the road from the Grohs’ home in Fountain Hills, Arizona, a modest, cookie-cutter town in the hills east of Phoenix. During these frequent morning trips, Bill would shop for miscellaneous things—bananas, a box of Clif bars, maybe even a new button-down shirt. 

Bill headed home when he was done with his morning shopping. He pulled onto his street and noticed there wasn’t a single car parked along the side of the road. Bill turned into the driveway and unloaded a couple of bags of groceries. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw what looked like two police cars, black sedans with gold trim. Bill wondered why the cops were in the neighborhood. The Grohs lived on a good block; there weren’t many bad blocks in Fountain Hills. The cars moved deliberately down the road and stopped in front of the Groh house, a few feet from Bill. A police officer climbed out of one of the cars and asked: “Are you William Groh?”

 

The youngest of three, Jill was a lively kid. Though she was born in Austin, Texas, the family moved to Arizona before her 12th birthday. Jill took an interest in cheerleading at an early age. Cheerleading ran in the family, and Bill’s little Jilly Bean, as the family called her, had the lungs for it. “Even in fourth grade,” he says, “she was the loudest cheerleader.” 

In high school, Jill was a straight-A student and was president of her senior class. She captained the cheerleading squad and was a star on the softball team. Jill still found time to volunteer in the community, helping raise money for multiple sclerosis research and delivering anti-drug messages at local elementary schools. Jill’s skills on the softball diamond earned her a scholarship at a small college in Oklahoma. After a year, though, she left to attend Northern Arizona University (NAU), a two-hour drive from Fountain Hills. She entered the hospitality management program, which seemed like a good fit for Jill’s easy temperament. Working in the hotel industry had also become something of a family profession. 

Jill arrived on the NAU campus in the fall of 2003 and immediately made an impact on those around her. She captained the cheerleading squad and helped with community events. “Everybody loved her,” says one of Jill’s former NAU professors, Frances Ann Hill. “There is a spontaneous affection for Jillian everywhere.” One particular moment stands out in Hill’s mind. Every semester for nine years, Hill had taught a hospitality leadership course. At the end of the course, she required students to present a personal mission statement—a snapshot of who they are and what they’ve learned during the semester. On a spring day in 2005, Jill walked into class to present her statement. When it was her turn, instead of talking about herself, Jill named each of her fellow cheerleaders and spoke about their strengths and what she had learned from them. “It was beautiful,” Hill says, “how she made her personal mission statement a reflection of all the gifts that they had given her.” 

Because NAU is known for its hospitality program, each spring recruiters from many of the major hotels arrive on campus in search of new employees. The Hyatt approached Jill her senior year with a job offer. She accepted. There was no location attached to the deal; the Hyatt could assign Jill to any of its more than 500 properties around the country—something of a game of roulette. Not long after she took the job, Jill learned she would start her career in Denver.


Jill moved to the Mile High City in the spring of 2006. Despite Denver being where Janelle attended high school, the Grohs were uneasy about their daughter’s new home. Jill had recently ended a long relationship with a Broncos recruit, and Bill and Janelle were worried her ex-boyfriend would be a distraction. 

Jill left the snow-covered peaks of the Front Range in December 2006 to travel home for the holidays. She told her father she felt stifled at her new job. Bill encouraged his daughter to stick it out in Denver for at least a year, enough time to give this chapter of her life a chance to take shape. 

When she returned to Denver and the calendar flipped to the new year, things turned for Jill. She was promoted at the Hyatt. Jill also learned the Colorado Rapids were holding tryouts for the team’s cheerleading squad; she thought she would give it a shot. Toward the end of February, Jill heard she had made the squad. “Jillian was just beside herself with joy,” Janelle says. Jill and her roommate, Jacquelyn, signed a new lease on a two-bedroom apartment, cementing their place in Denver for another year. 

To mark the occasion, Jill invited a friend from Arizona to celebrate. Jill’s sister booked them a room at the Westin on the corner of 17th and Lawrence streets for $49. On that night in March, Jill called her parents to say she was going out with friends. At moments like this, Bill and Janelle were particularly proud of their youngest daughter, pleased she had stuck it out in Denver. But parents being parents, they’d also talked to her about being safe that night. “We’ve got a room at the Westin,” Jill said. “We’ll be fine, Dad.”

 

At the very moment the police officer informed Bill his daughter had been in an accident, doctors were operating on Jill almost 850 miles away in an Aurora emergency room. The Grohs felt numb. Their son, George, put them on the next plane to Denver, and within a few hours of hearing the news, Bill and Janelle walked into the Aurora Medical Center. What faced them was the kind of scene parents’ nightmares are made of: Jill was in a hospital bed, bandaged from head to toe, her eyes shut. As bad as it looked, the Grohs couldn’t see the worst of it. Doctors had removed part of Jill’s skull due to the swelling in her brain. She was battling for her life. 

The accident happened at 3:59 a.m. In the fraction of time before impact, according to a police report, Angela Reed had swerved into the slow-moving Expedition instead of away from it. The PT Cruiser’s low front end smashed underneath the SUV’s rear bumper, which increased the severity of the crash. One of the backseat passengers, Michael Martin, was thrown into the back of the driver’s seat; his body left an indentation that was still visible days later. The site of the accident was a mess of blood and shattered metal. When emergency crews arrived, they had to remove the Cruiser’s passenger side door. 

No one died at the scene, but all seven passengers in the Cruiser and Chon, the driver of the SUV, were transported to the hospital. Jill and Michael were the only two who wouldn’t eventually walk away. (The Martins were told Michael’s skull collided with Jill’s during the wreck.) Michael’s parents were on a business trip in Ohio when they got the news. Hours later, Michael’s mother found her way to Denver. Her son was on life support. After 10 days, though, doctors told the Martin family there was no hope. The family switched off the machines.

Blood samples were taken from everyone to determine their alcohol levels at the time of the crash. The subsequent toxicology reports estimated that Angela’s BAC was 0.22—nearly three times the legal limit. Angela eventually pleaded guilty to driving under the influence, criminally negligent homicide, vehicular assault,  and two counts of careless driving resulting in death or injury. The Grohs decided to testify on Angela’s behalf at her sentencing hearing, which occurred about a year after the accident; they thought Jill wouldn’t want Angela to do any jail time. In part because of the Grohs’ recommendation, the judge sentenced Angela to years of probation and hundreds of hours of community service. 

The Grohs slept in the hospital lobby those first few days. They had a room at a nearby Sheraton but didn’t want to leave Jill. Despite Jill’s life-threatening injuries, the Grohs couldn’t help but think their daughter would pull through. “I just expected that they’d operate on Jill and in a couple of weeks we’d be going home,” Janelle says.  

There were countless surgeries. After Jill’s first craniotomy, fluid continued to pool in her brain and doctors had to operate again.  Doctors placed Jill in a medically induced coma. One of Jill’s lungs collapsed; a tube helped her breathe. She could no longer swallow, so doctors put a feeding tube in her stomach. 

Whenever the Grohs asked about their daughter’s condition, the answer was the same: She’s in the ICU. We can’t answer that now. We should know more in two to three days. If the doctors said more, Bill and Janelle didn’t—or maybe couldn’t—hear it. To help keep track of it all, Janelle would ask family and friends to take notes whenever a doctor was in the room. Janelle focused her energy elsewhere: She shaved Jill’s legs, clipped her toenails, massaged her muscles, and stretched her limbs. 
When doctors finally took the bandages off of Jill’s head, her scalp was an unrecognizable mess of bloody patches and knots of hair. They asked Janelle if they could shave Jill’s head. Janelle wondered why they hadn’t already. About a month after the accident, doctors decided it was safe to let Jill out of the coma. Janelle remembers a nurse shining a small flashlight into her daughter’s open eyes. Nothing. 

The Grohs counted each of the 84 days Jill spent in the ICU. One day toward the end of their three months in Aurora, Bill walked across the street from the hospital to get lunch. It was raining. By the time he got back, the bread was soaked, the sandwich ruined. Bill thought to himself things couldn’t get worse. 

Finally, doctors considered Jill stable enough to be transported to a facility near the Grohs’ home in Arizona. The day they were set to leave, one of Jill’s physicians pulled Bill and Janelle aside. For the first time, he explained the phrase “traumatic brain injury.” He told them Jill would never be able to care for herself again.

 

One of the first things George, Jill’s brother, did when he heard about the accident was call the Westin. He wanted to know what had transpired at the hotel. He had one question in particular: “Why would someone kick drunk kids out into the street at 3 a.m.?”

George eventually spoke to the Westin’s security director, who said a police officer had escorted his sister and her friends out of the hotel. George then spoke to the officer. Denver Police sergeant Bryan O’Neill was shocked when George explained what had happened to his sister. O’Neill recounted being called to the hotel that night to take care of a drunk girl who had fallen in the lobby, but he was surprised to hear the girl had climbed into a car. He asked George to describe his sister’s appearance. When he heard the description, his mind flashed to a group of kids in the lobby, and the man who asked him, “Are you here for us?” O’Neill told George he played no part in evicting George’s sister. O’Neill would later say in a deposition that no one from the Westin asked him to remove the Groh group, and that Denver Police logs indicate nothing about an eviction at the Westin in the early hours of March 4, 2007. 

A few days after the crash, an attorney showed up at the Westin. Though he wasn’t there on behalf of the Grohs, the lawyer said someone who had been in an accident after leaving the hotel had retained him as counsel. He requested certain security tapes from that March night be preserved. This visit—and George’s phone call—indicated to Westin personnel that litigation against the hotel was looming. In response, Westin management reviewed security logs from that evening and traded emails about what had happened. Days after the accident, the general manager of the Westin, Thomas Curley, relayed to a company lawyer what he had learned: “We received a phone call from the brother of the registered guest stating that he was going to seek legal action. He was asking why we evicted the party and why we put seven intoxicated people in a car. Our security director spoke with him and informed him that Denver Police were involved and that as far as we knew there was no indication of intoxication during the eviction process.”

George called Janelle’s brother-in-law, a well-connected real estate developer in Portland, Oregon, hoping he could recommend a good lawyer. The Grohs eventually got in touch with Alan Shafner, an attorney who, at the time, worked at Fogel, Keating, Wagner, Polidori & Shafner, P.C. in Denver. The firm held a meeting about whether to take the Groh case, and though many of the partners were undecided, Shafner advocated for it. The firm agreed to work the case on contingency. “You get a hunch and you think things will turn out,” Shafner says. “I thought the facts would turn into a good case.” 

 

The view from Alan Shafner’s office, a few miles from the accident site, is quintessential Colorado. The Rockies sit in the distance, a bit fuzzy, almost as if they have been painted onto the landscape. Shafner spent his childhood gazing at views like this; he was born and raised in Denver and attended college at the University of Colorado Boulder. He went on to the South Texas College of Law in Houston. After graduation he came back to Colorado and landed a job at the First Judicial District Attorney’s Office in Jefferson County prosecuting felony cases. Shafner moved to Fogel, Keating, and Wagner in 1983 as an associate and would spend 28 years with the firm, eventually being named partner. 

As Shafner researched the Groh case, a few things quickly became clear. The first was that, as far as he could tell, the Westin had not followed its own policies when evicting Jill and her friends. Security guards are supposed to refrain from “entering a guest room without proper authorization,” and according to a Starwood best practices manual, hotel employees should attempt to prevent intoxicated guests from driving. Shafner learned that not more than a few months before the Groh incident, the second Westin security guard involved that night, John Dale, had diffused a situation with an NHL hockey team, the San Jose Sharks, by moving the team to an empty part of the hotel where noise wouldn’t bother other guests. The hotel commended Dale for his action.

If a guest is drunk—and Jill’s friends say they told security they were—hotel staff is supposed to involve the Denver Police in the eviction process, according to court documents, to ensure everyone’s safety.And although there were two police officers at the hotel that night, both would later testify they weren’t asked to help with the Groh group. Furthermore, the manager on duty that night later stated, regarding intoxicated guests, “We take responsibility for cabs even if they are thrown out. We’re willing to pay for the cabs if they want to, you know, if they want to go home.”

Shafner also investigated the employees themselves. In his first month on the job, Robinson—the guard who knocked on the door of room 1715—had been accused of sexual harassment and had argued with co-workers. In fact, just minutes before he encountered Jill and her friends, Robinson had an altercation with VIP guests on the 19th floor. During the argument, one of the VIPs yelled, “You’re fucking scaring off my friend.” When the incidents occured, Robinson was on a 90-day probationary employment period; the Westin didn’t renew his contract after those three months.  

The second security guard, Dale, had recommended that the Westin hire Robinson. The two worked out at the same gym in Aurora. Dale would later say in a deposition he had thought Robinson would be good for the job because, “In our conversations, you know, he was soft-spoken.... He had some experience in security, and he was looking for a job.” 

Dale had a lengthy resumé with a focus on security and law enforcement. He also had a rap sheet and says that in his 20s he was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. In 2002, Dale was charged with criminally impersonating a peace officer. He cut a deal and pleaded guilty to official misconduct. Two years after that incident, Dale’s sister filed for a restraining order against him. As evidence to support her request, she described one particular incident: “John and I were disagreeing. He leapt up from where he was sitting and got in my face while telling my father, ‘You’d better call the cops, Dad, ’cause I’m gonna kill her.’ ” An Arapahoe County court judge granted Dale’s sister a civil protection order. Dale says he told the Westin about both the restraining order and the misconduct charge during his interview for a security position. 

The manager on duty in the early morning of March 4, 2007, Mario Maradiaga, had multiple assault charges and had also been charged with disturbing the peace. Six months after the Groh incident, Denver Police officer Keith Lewis wrote an affidavit for a warrant for Maradiaga’s arrest: “Mario Maradiaga...and the complainant have been in an intimate relationship for 11 months. On this date, the defendant and the complainant were in an argument that turned physical with the defendant punching the complainant in the leg and pushing her out of the car by her neck.” 

Shafner grew more confident as he researched the case. It was difficult to tell, he thought, if the Westin had set out to hire employees skilled in customer service or nightclub bouncers. What’s more, Shafner couldn’t seem to find any record of the Westin training these employees on how to determine if a guest was drunk or how to deal with a guest if he or she was intoxicated. “The lack of any evidence that key Westin personnel were trained on the Westin’s policies and procedures for handling intoxicated guests is especially noteworthy,” Shafner wrote in a court brief, “because the Westin Hotel requires that all training be documented in personnel files.” 

About a year after the accident, Shafner sued the Westin on behalf of the Groh family for, among other things, negligence, negligent eviction, and negligent hiring and training. Shafner also sued Sun Chon, the driver involved in the crash, and Angela Reed. (Although they testified on behalf of Reed, the Grohs felt she was no longer remorseful.) Those matters were eventually resolved, and the lawsuit against the Westin was all that remained. “We teach our kids from first grade: Get a place, be safe. That’s the mantra,” Shafner says. “These kids did what they’re supposed to do. They got a hotel room. We’re not saying you can’t evict people. Just do it correctly.”

 

Three weeks before the Groh case was set to go to trial, and almost three and a half years after the accident, the Westin’s lawyers filed a motion for “summary judgment,” a tool designed to aid lawyers and judges in weeding cases with no legal standing out of the system. Summary judgment, also known as Rule 56, is written in a 149-page document called the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure, which governs the way the civil court system functions. The federal government adopted the rules in the 1930s, and similar versions have been co-opted by most states, including Colorado. 

Rule 56 reads: “The court shall grant summary judgment if the movant shows that there is no genuine dispute as to any material fact and the movant is entitled to judgment as a matter of law.” Put another way, summary judgment allows a judge to determine a case purely on its legal merit. There is no jury. “Summary judgment,” says Scott Moss, an attorney and associate professor at the University of Colorado Law School who specializes in civil litigation, “in many cases is a trial on paper.”

Judges tended to stay away from the motion when the rules were first adopted, worrying it could be construed as stripping citizens of their right to a jury trial. In 1986, though, the U.S. Supreme Court issued three opinions viewed by some as a turning point, “signaling a greater emphasis on summary judgment as a necessary means to respond to claims and defenses that lack sufficient factual support,” according to the Federal Judicial Center, the education and research arm of the federal court system. 

In the decades since the 1986 rulings, summary judgment has drawn national attention from legal scholars, retired judges, and attorneys. In 2007, Suja Thomas, a law professor at the University of Illinois, began a paper published in the Virginia Law Review with this declarative sentence: “Summary judgment is unconstitutional.” Thomas argued the rule usurps citizens’ constitutional rights. Then there are those who say there is a culture of summary judgment entrenched in our legal system, and attorneys routinely file the motion whether or not it’s appropriate—anything to win a case without dealing with a jury. “Summary judgment is filed when it shouldn’t be,” says Diane King, a Denver lawyer at the firm King & Greisen. “There are hundreds of disputed facts, and it’s filed anyway.” 

But some say judges handle summary judgment just as carefully today as when the rule was first adopted. “It’s only used in those rare circumstances that nobody has an issue of fact,” says former Denver District Court Judge Christina Habas, who  reviewed countless Rule 56 motions in her nine years on the bench and now works for the Denver firm Keating Wagner Polidori Free. “It’s very rarely granted for that reason.” 

The Westin’s 41-page summary judgment motion argued the Grohs’ “claims must fail as any ‘negligence’ on the part of the Westin with respect to the eviction was not the proximate cause of the accident nor the injuries suffered therein.” In other words, the fact that Jill and her friends were kicked out of the hotel didn’t cause their accident. The Westin’s lawyer wrote, “It would be unconscionable to hold a hotel liable for such unforeseeable events.”

The motion didn’t surprise Shafner. But he was confident the Groh case wasn’t a fit for Rule 56. Shafner drafted a response, which he filed with the court two months later. “A jury could most certainly find that Defendant Westin’s breach of its duty was a proximate cause of Plaintiff’s injuries and damages.... Further, if Westin personnel decide that it is necessary to evict guests from the premises, then the Westin has policies and procedures in place to ensure that the eviction takes place so that its guests are not thrust into dangerous situations when they depart the premises.”

Three and a half months after Shafner filed his response, and weeks before the latest trial date, which had been pushed back, Denver District Court Judge R. Michael Mullins rendered his decision. The judge sided with the Westin. There would be no jury. No trial. 

Bill was sitting on the couch when the phone rang. When he heard the case wasn’t going to trial, he felt as if he had been punched in the jaw. The Grohs would file an appeal, but the odds were against the case being overturned. Janelle was dumbfounded. “I never knew there was such a thing [as summary judgment],” Janelle says. “I thought everybody would get their day in court—let the jury decide one way or another. Jill has to have her little voice heard.” 

 

The sound begins as something of a whimper. Bill is lying on his back in the middle of the night when he hears it. A few moments pass. Then the whimper becomes a scream—jagged, piercing, broken. Bill jerks out of bed, cracks a Dr Pepper—the soda helps him shake himself awake late at night—and rushes down the hall to his daughter’s room. 

A few years after the accident, the Grohs decided to care for their daughter themselves at home. They eventually moved into a house in Scottsdale their son owned and fixed it up so it was wheelchair-friendly. Ever since, nearly every night has been like this: Bill waking in the dark to his daughter’s groans and wails. The process has become disconcertingly normal.

He peers through the darkness. As with an infant, Bill does his best to quickly decipher why Jill is screaming. He checks to see if she needs to be changed, or if she’s trying to bite herself—a tendancy that has left scars on the top of her left hand. Sometimes all Bill can do is dab the spit from the corner of his daughter’s mouth with a washcloth and sit with her, hoping his presence eases her pain. 

No one in the Groh house sleeps more than five consecutive hours. Typically Bill takes the night shift and Janelle takes the morning shift. Jill still isn’t responsive, but her eyes are often open, casting a blank stare. She no longer has control of the part of her brain that tells her muscles to relax. Her upper body looks as if it’s tied in a knot. Her chin is pressed firmly against her left shoulder, and her arms are tucked tightly, each in the shape of a bird’s wing. Like her arms, Jill’s ankles are locked, her toes pointed inward. Doctors told the Grohs the only way they could “fix” Jill’s feet would be to break her ankles and reset them in a natural position. Bill and Janelle decided there was no need.

The Grohs do everything for their daughter—feed her, change her, brush her teeth. Jill still has the feeding tube in her stomach. Three times a day, Janelle pours a bottle of a nutrient-dense liquid called Compleat into a large syringe and injects the liquid into the tube. There’s a medicine pouch the size of a hockey puck underneath the skin near Jill’s belly button, which dispenses medicine throughout her broken body. Once a week, Janelle takes Jill to a physical therapy appointment at which occupational therapists try to loosen Jill’s body by stretching her limbs and placing Jill in a contraption that allows her to stand. Between insurance coverage and caring for Jill themselves, the Grohs have made things work financially, but it has been difficult. After the accident, Janelle went back to work a few days a week. The Grohs worry about what will happen when they’re gone. Who will take care of Jill? How will the family afford to provide her with the type of support she needs? 

Jill’s room is a blend of her life before and after the accident. She sleeps in a hospital-type bed, and there are bottles of Compleat and stacks of absorbant briefs on a shelf in the corner. On a dresser underneath a TV, there are pictures of Jill from her cheerleading days and an “Award of Excellence” she received during her time at the Hyatt. When the Grohs need to move Jill from her room, they use a lifting machine and a series of harnesses to pick her up. She hangs heavy and helpless as they transport her to the couch in the living room or to her wheelchair. Though Jill may never be fully responsive, the Grohs say she has perked up since coming home. One day Janelle was talking to her daughter, and Jill let out what sounded to Janelle like a little laugh. It was the first time in years Janelle had heard Jill’s voice. 

Last summer, one of Jill’s old high school friends had a bridal shower. The Grohs have a minivan that holds a wheelchair, making it possible to get Jill out of the house. Janelle dressed Jill up and took her to the party. Janelle was on Facebook a few days later and noticed the friends had posted pictures. Not one photo in the entire album included Jill. Bill and Janelle were crushed. “I can’t look at Facebook,” Janelle says. “It breaks my heart. I’m just too consumed with taking care of Jill, and our little life, our little routine. To think that Jill will never be married or have kids is just heartbreaking.”

 

The Grohs lost their first appeal. The 2-1 ruling upheld the District Court judge’s decision to grant the Westin summary judgment. Perhaps searching for a silver lining, Shafner was encouraged by the lengthy dissent written by one of the Court of Appeals justices. It was clear the judge believed the case contained questions for a jury. “I would hold that where an innkeeper evicts a guest under circumstances potentially creating an imminent risk to the guest, because of either the guest’s condition or the environment into which the guest has been evicted—or, as here, the two in combination—the jury must decide whether the eviction was reasonable.”

In the time since the Groh case was first filed, Shafner had opened his own firm not far from the Hyatt Regency Denver Tech Center where Jill used to work. Shafner had amassed enough paperwork—research, depositions, motions, expert opinions, and relevant cases—to fill a room in his office and part of a room at home. Though it was a long shot, the next legal step was to ask the Court of Appeals to reconsider. Cases are rarely overturned in this manner. Nevertheless, Shafner filed the paperwork.

Interestingly, in the time it had taken the appeals to progress, a judge announced his retirement. The justice was a member of the three-judge panel that first considered the Grohs’ appeal. When Shafner’s motion to reconsider showed up on the docket, the court assigned a new judge to the case. Shafner viewed the swap as fortuitous: Perhaps this new judge would side with the Grohs.

The news came in late March 2013, 24 days after the sixth anniversary of Jill’s accident. The Court of Appeals reversed its decision; this time, it was 2-1 in favor of the Grohs. The judges saw the case as potentially having far-reaching implications in Colorado and beyond. The majority opinion stated: “This personal injury action presents an issue of first impression in Colorado: whether a hotel’s duty of care to a guest requires that, in lawfully evicting the guest, the hotel act reasonably. We conclude that a hotel must evict a guest in a reasonable manner, which precludes ejecting a guest into foreseeably dangerous circumstances resulting from either the guest’s condition or the environment. We further conclude that here a reasonable jury could find a breach of this duty on the present record.”

The dissenting judge cautioned against the potential ripples of the decision. “This was an undeniably tragic case. The majority’s imposition of a duty on the Westin under the facts of this case, however, is a great expansion of tort duty in Colorado. Hotels will now have an expanded duty to protect evicted guests, and I fail to see any distinction in the majority’s reasoning which will prohibit such a duty from being expanded to any business owner.”

Long ago, after their first defeat in court, Bill told Janelle to no longer count on anything from the legal system. But it had been so long since they’d heard good news it was hard not to be excited. They had waited six years for this moment. “We’re on cloud nine,” Janelle said. That evening, the Grohs invited their daughter, Jennifer, and her two-year-old son, Brady, over for a family dinner. Janelle planned to cook her signature spaghetti and meatballs, which she’s made for the past 40 years. Jill slept well that night.


The Grohs’ victory doesn’t ensure a straight shot to a trial; it’s one more step in a seemingly endless ladder of appeals. “The first few years we waited,” Bill says. “Then all of a sudden, out of the clear blue sky, we’re being told we’re going to court. And now we have to wait again.” About a month after losing the Court of Appeals decision, the Westin filed paperwork asking the Colorado Supreme Court to hear the case. (The court’s decision was still pending at press time.) The Westin’s lawyer, Richard Waltz of the Denver-based Waltz Law Firm, declined to speak about the case, saying, “I think it would be inappropriate for any lawyer to comment on a case before the Supreme Court.” Starwood Hotels & Resorts Worldwide declined to comment.

Trying to predict the movement of the state’s highest court is a fruitless endeavor. But the Groh case might pose a legal question that interests the justices, particularly because of the way the Court of Appeals framed its decision as breaking new legal ground in Colorado. The odds, however, are against the Colorado Supreme Court taking any case—it only hears about one out of every 10 requests.

If the court does decide to hear Groh v. Westin, it could be months before arguments are presented and then several months more before a decision. Conversely, if the court doesn’t take the case, the whole thing would head back to the District Court level and be scheduled for trial—which could take at least six months and more likely a year. If that happens, three years of appeals will have been lost to not-so-summary judgment, only for things to return to where they were in 2010.

Even if the case goes to trial (the Westin could attempt to settle), and even if a jury finds the Westin is at least partly at fault for what happened (a jury could assign the hotel a percentage of the blame), that decision could be appealed. The situation is reminiscent of Charles Dickens’ Bleak House, a tale that centers on a civil lawsuit that has stretched on for generations. Dickens’ novel is a commentary on the failure of the legal system. The difference is that the Bleak House case is about material possessions and money. The Groh case is about a woman’s life.

The Grohs can’t forget the way Westin employees treated their daughter and her friends that night. Part of them, though, needs to move on, and in some ways they have; they are too consumed with caring for their daughter to closely follow a convoluted legal battle. And, yet, it is the very same legal system that may offer the Grohs their best chance of closure. People have long found a sense of finality in being heard by a jury of peers, and Bill and Janelle believe they could find this, too. But they have already lost six years to the courts—and could easily lose more. 

 

Often, in the hours after midnight, Bill thinks about everything that has happened, about his daughter and the accident. There have been so many moments for the Grohs to process: the time Jill said she was considering coming home to Arizona and Bill encouraged his daughter to stay at her job in Denver; that night at the Westin when Jill and her friends wandered into the night and her parents couldn’t protect her; Jill deciding on the hospitality profession and being sent to Colorado; a car breaking down on that particular stretch of highway at that particular moment on that particular night; Shafner taking their case; the Court of Appeals judge retiring when he did. The moments are easily divided into two categories: before and after the accident. “It’s really like our lives have two parts,” Bill says. “Everything is so different.”

In this afterlife, the Grohs have found solace in baseball. The games make for a nice family outing, a respite from the grind of caring for their daughter; the sport also reminds the Grohs of when Jill was younger—she worked at the ballpark a couple of summers during college. “It’s the one place where we can get away and be semi-normal,” Bill says. This year, the Grohs bought a 28-pack of tickets to see the Arizona Diamondbacks. They often have good seats in a wheelchair-accessible row to the first base side of home plate, in the middle deck at Chase Field in downtown Phoenix.

One afternoon in July, the Grohs readied Jill for a game. Janelle dressed her in a red shirt and tied a red ribbon neatly into her hair. The Grohs packed a bag with, among other things, a red blanket for Jill that a friend had given her, a bottle of Compleat, and a few cans of Dr Pepper for Bill. Dr Pepper isn’t sold in the stadium, so Bill often tries to sneak a couple of cans in.

When they arrived at the ballpark, the national anthem was already in progress. It sounded like a little girl was singing the song. Janelle wheeled Jill to a spot with a view of the field: There was the child, singing in front of tens of thousands of fans. Janelle gazed longingly at the little girl. When the song ended, Janelle rubbed the goose bumps along her arms. The Grohs made their way to their seats. Proudly dressed in a new Tommy Bahama button-down picked up during one of his trips to Walmart, Bill pulled up a folding chair and sat next to Jill. He slipped a baseball glove on his left hand.

Bill didn’t always bring a glove to the games. Sometimes the Grohs sit in foul-ball territory, and a few months ago a batter cracked a ball that catapulted into the second deck and smacked the concrete right where Jill had been sitting in her wheelchair. Just minutes before, Janelle had taken Jill to the bathroom to feed her. Ever since, Bill brings his glove.

On this day the Diamondbacks started a four-game home stand against the Milwaukee Brewers. The home team got off to a predictably slow start, given that they had played a 14-inning game the night before. The Diamondbacks starting pitcher gave up two runs in the first inning and another in the third. Like any sports fans, the Grohs want their team to win, but these outings aren’t about the game. The score is meaningless. The trips to the ballpark are about sharing a moment as a family: Bill sipping his contraband Dr Pepper and eating peanuts out of a ziplock; Jill in a red bow, red shirt, and blanket; Janelle dressed in a matching red top chatting with her sister, Jeri, who often joins them. The crowd noise, the countless other families surrounding them—it is all so normal.

During one of the early innings, Janelle and Jeri left to get something to eat. Bill sat so close to his daughter he could have wrapped his arm around his little Jilly Bean. Bill’s left hand was fitted inside his mitt. He cradled Jill’s palm with his right, rubbing his thumb near the scars just below her knuckles. The Brewers were up to bat. The Diamondbacks pitcher fired a bullet off the mound. Crack! The ball zipped into the second deck. It headed straight for Jill. Bill reached across his body with his left hand and snatched the ball with his glove a few inches above Jill’s chest. With the ball tucked inside his glove, Bill turned and looked into his daughter’s eyes. It was almost as if Jill smiled.

 

Out of Bounds

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Issue reference: 
Intro: 

Colorado escape: The backcountry hut trip.

Deck: 

Colorado escape: The backcountry hut trip.

Spread image: 

Nestled into high meadows, perched along the Continental Divide, and tucked into stunning gulches, more than 40 Colorado backcountry huts beckon to those craving a rustic winter retreat. But to visit one of these jewels, you’ll have to earn it. Fortunately, that doesn’t mean you need to be an expert skier or an experienced backpacker: There are hut trips tailor-made for everyone from families with young kids to novice skiers to backcountry veterans. Prepare for a uniquely Colorado escape.

Background: Huts, Defined

Miles beyond the confines of ski resorts, backcountry huts pepper Colorado’s mountain terrain. Built in the tradition of European hut-to-hut skiing, some of these out-of-the-way locales (often open in the summer and winter) can be reached by car, while others require a daylong alpine tour. Plan your next adventure with one of the state’s three major hut systems.   

1. 10th Mountain Division Hut Association, huts.org 2. San Juan Hut Systems, sanjuan
huts.com 3. Summit Huts Association, summithuts.org

Table of Contents:

Point Breeze Cabin

Eiseman Hut

Opus Hut

Blue Lakes Hut

Janet's Cabin

Cascade Hut

El Capitan Lodge

Aladdin's Lamp Hut

Insider Tips:

Gear and Safety

Hut Trip Recipes

5280.com Exclusives: Check out our slideshow of all eight hut trips here. Also, even more insider tips from editor Daliah Singer, plus the things she wish she knew before her hut trip.

We must have been quite the sight: four children under the age of six and four adults (one of whom was pregnant) tromping through the snow. Plus, with less than a mile between the car and our weekend home—Point Breeze Cabin, an easily accessible hut located nine miles northwest of Leadville—we hadn’t needed to pack light. There were coolers and sleds and packs weighed down with food and wine, as well as sleeping bags and multiple changes of clothes for the kids.

The November snowpack was negligible, so we trudged along in boots, thankful we didn’t have to break trail on snowshoes. The well-traveled path cut a narrow band over the frozen forest floor and through stands of pines. Just as the kids approached the “Are we there yet?” stage (one had taken up residence on a sled), we came upon a wooden bench. That solitary sign of civilization was enough to convince them to keep going. And then, suddenly, we were there. A spruce-log cabin with a big front porch came into view. It looked more like a cozy mountain cottage than a way station for the multitudes who use it as a one-night crash pad between epic ski days.

For groups like ours, Point Breeze is more of a home away from home; it’s also ideal for those who want an approachable first-time experience because getting there is, well, a breeze. There are no avalanche chutes to navigate, and there’s virtually no chance of getting lost. Plus, Leadville’s not too far away if you run out of provisions (like, ahem, booze) and need to make a supply trip.

As swift as the walk was, we were happy to unstrap our packs. We stocked the kitchen—and the chest refrigerator—until it was overflowing, uncorked the vino, and started a fire. (If no one has used the cabin for several days, expect the thermostat to hover near 50 degrees for a couple of hours.) Meanwhile, the kids romped in the snow, building a ramp for the sleds and patrolling the area for signs of deer, birds, and (they hoped) bears. Once the sun dropped below the horizon, we started the propane grill on the deck and sank into chairs around the woodburning stove inside. The kids colored and played games. After dinner, they bundled up and begged to go sledding. We spent the evening watching them trundle up and down their hand-patted sledding hill, long past all of our bedtimes. —Amanda M. Faison

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IF YOU GO

Point Breeze Cabin
Setup: The single-story cabin sleeps eight with two private bedrooms (two twin beds in each) and four twin beds in the common area. There’s also a kitchen, dining room, living room, and attached outhouse.

Hut-Specific Pack List: We weren’t left wanting for anything—there are even two playpens.

To-Do List: Cooking (the kitchen is well stocked); sledding; snowshoeing; hiking out
and buying a day pass at Ski Cooper.

Getting There: Take I-70 west to Exit 195 (Copper Mountain/Leadville). Drive 22.5 miles south on Highway 91. Before you reach Leadville, take a sharp right onto Highway 24. Continue for about nine miles. The parking lot (on the left) is also the starting point for the Tennessee Pass trailhead.  

Book It: $340/night (whole hut rentals only); 970-925-5775, huts.org

Darkness descended on us as the snowfall got heavier and piled up on my fleece-covered shoulders. In the shadows of the surrounding pine trees, miles from civilization, the lonely wilderness should’ve been beautiful, but I’d been skinning for more than 10 hours and was too exhausted to notice it. As I crested yet another hill, I finally saw what had been hidden from view at the bottom: the wooden beams of Eiseman Hut, lit up inside by the rest of our group, who’d arrived earlier. My relief was palpable.

Perhaps Eiseman wasn’t the smartest choice for my first true backcountry excursion. Since it was built in 1996, powder junkies have sought out the steep terrain and snow-filled couloirs easily accessible from the front door. I’d always been more of a resort skier—a solid intermediate. But the eight guys I was with (one of whom has led group tours up Mt. Rainier) were all avalanche-trained, advanced skiers and snowboarders, and they convinced my best friend and me that we had the mettle to reach the hut.

The day started off easy enough. We geared up with our alpine touring skis and set off on a cat track–like snowmobile path before cutting right a mile or so in to start our ascent. After hours of endless switchbacking up-up-up, I lost focus on being blissfully lost in the Colorado backcountry—because I realized we actually were lost, having gone about a mile out of our way before finding the correct trail again. (Perhaps we should have taken the other, slightly shorter route up Spraddle Creek Trail.) By the time we reached the hut, I had just enough energy to eat the spaghetti we cooked and down some Advil with snowmelt water we’d boiled. I soon passed out on a window seat, warmed by the wood-burning stove.

The next day, with avalanche danger high because of the still-falling snow, some of us stayed in, relishing the solitude, reading novels, and playing cards. Others—armed with shovels, beacons, and probes—were rewarded with thigh-deep powder on a steep face a short hike from the cabin.
Our route home took us down a powder-filled slope (comparable to a black diamond run) followed by an easy downhill skinning section and a difficult tree portion before we reached the snowmobile track we’d started out on. I put down my pack and thought about what I’d learned over the previous 48 hours. First, I discovered that getting up after falling with a 20-pound pack on is no easy feat without a helping hand to pull you back up. Second, I realized I did in fact have the grit necessary to reach Eiseman. And finally, I learned that in the future I would opt for an easier (read: shorter)hut trip. But as I rested on the snow for a moment, pack on the ground, I also knew there would definitely be a next time—Colorado’s backcountry being too alluring to ignore. Sitting there, I let the contentedness wash over me and finally saw the beauty of my surroundings. —Daliah Singer
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IF YOU GO

Eiseman Hut

Setup: The cabin sleeps 16. There is a communal sleeping area with 12 single beds; two private bedrooms with double beds; a small loft; and a large living area, kitchen, dining room, mudroom, and outhouse.

Hut-Specific Pack List: Waterproof hut slippers, oil for cooking, hand sanitizer, and
a GoPro.

To-Do List: Alpine touring; backcountry skiing and snowboarding; snowmobiling (the vehicles are not allowed within five miles of the hut).

Getting There: Take I-70 west to Exit 176 (Vail). At the roundabout, follow North Frontage Road (the sign also says “West Vail”). Continue on the road as it switchbacks up the hill until you reach Red Sandstone Creek trailhead. You can park one mile before the trailhead in a parking area.  

Book It: $33/person/night; 970-925-5775, huts.org

I’ve been spoiled by the deluxe huts of the Alps, where multicourse meals and fine wine await even if you have to jump crevasses and scale ladders to reach the dinner table. By comparison, the typical Colorado ski hut can seem a bit…rustic. Yet when two friends and I skied up to the two-year-old OPUS (Ophir Pass Ultimate Ski) Hut deep in the rugged San Juan Mountains in early April, our packs were the lightest we’d ever carried this side of the Atlantic. That’s because OPUS owner Bob Kingsley has imported European amenities to the hut he built half a mile east of Ophir Pass.

When we arrived after several hours of easy skinning, Kingsley greeted us at the door and pointed out hut slippers, indoor bathrooms with running water, and cozy bunkrooms, then ushered us into the dining room for homemade barley soup—much-needed warmth and carbs after the chilly ski in. This hotel in the woods even comes with warm blankets and pillows so you don’t need to lug in a sleeping bag. For an extra charge, Kingsley and his staff will prepare your meals, including bread baked in the wood cookstove (with a full-size oven), a hearty dinner, and a full breakfast with brewed coffee. All the fuel you need to pack is lunch fare and cocktails. (You can opt to cook your own meals, but your pack will be that much heavier.)

Despite a relatively short, 3.5-mile approach, OPUS’ location at 11,765 feet is higher than most Colorado huts. What that means for outdoor enthusiasts: out-the-door access to terrain most skiers can reach only by helicopter. My crew still had some energy after our midday bowl of soup, so we headed out for late-afternoon turns on Piper Charlie, a broad chute directly above the hut. The next day, Kingsley guided us to a 1,600-foot drop into Paradise Valley (equivalent to an easier black diamond run), and then we toured up the valley to frozen tarns glistening below 13,380-foot South Lookout Peak. New snow had begun falling, and by that afternoon several inches had built the base for a creamy powder run behind the hut.

Since OPUS opened in 2011, February has been the busiest month, but Kingsley says the best skiing is often found in April, when snow stability improves and sunny slopes yield harvests of fun-to-schuss corn. We didn’t get any kernels, but by day three the storm had dropped more than eight inches of snow, and Kingsley led us to one more steep stash before we had to pick up our featherweight packs and glide back out to the car. —Dougald MacDonald
_____

IF YOU GO

OPUS Hut

Setup: OPUS sleeps 16. There is a dining room and two indoor bathrooms on the main floor; two private (three-bunk) bedrooms downstairs; and two five-bunk bedrooms upstairs.

Hut-Specific Pack List: Sheets or sleeping bag liners for bunks and a bathing suit for the sauna.

To-Do List: Seeking out the best—and safest—backcountry powder stashes (we recommend guided tours from Bob Kingsley, at $150–$325 per person depending on group size).

Getting There: You can approach OPUS from the west (Ophir/Telluride) or east (Ouray/Silverton); most Front Rangers choose the latter because it’s 45 minutes closer to home. Take U.S. 285 south to U.S. 50 west to Montrose, then head south on Highway 550. The trailhead is about halfway between Red Mountain Pass and Silverton, at the start of Ophir Pass Road.

Book It: $35/person/night (private rooms vary), $35/person/day
for meals; 970-708-0092, opushut.com

 

It had been years since I thought about my childhood days at summer camp, when I played games late into the night and laughed under the covers to avoid being shushed by counselors. At the Blue Lakes Hut, one of five small cabins operated by the San Juan Huts system in the winter, stretched along the northern flanks of the Sneffels Range, those memories came back to life. When we arrived, my four ski companions—all veteran 10th Mountain hut-goers—were underwhelmed by the 256-square-foot bedroom-in-the-kitchen quarters. There’s no fancy sauna here. “There’s not even a table!” one friend exclaimed as we opened the door after a gentle ski-and-skin approach following a broad snow-covered road up the East Fork of Dallas Creek. The vibe of the San Juan Huts system is more log cabin than luxury lodge, but over two nights, the small building’s charm grew on us. The wood stove quickly heated the intimate space, we had the hut to ourselves (highly recommended), and we reverted to that summers-away-from-home state of mind as we laughed uproariously at bad jokes, acted out charades, and played Dudo (a Latin American dice game) long into the night.

The relatively low elevation of the cabin—tucked into aspens at 9,430 feet—not only makes it easy to access and free from avalanche danger on the approach, but it also leads to comfortable nights in comparatively oxygen-rich air. That may not sound like a huge deal—until you wake up ready to play rather than wanting to take a nap due to elevation-induced sleep apnea.

In the morning, we skinned about 1,800 feet up gentle logging roads to a shoulder of a hill nicknamed Little Matterhorn and then raced each other back to the hut, swerving off the road to carve arcs through deeper drifts. The following day, we ski-toured toward the Blue Lakes for which the hut is named, crossing a broad meadow under the craggy west face of Mt. Sneffels. Here we found all the splendor the hut lacked: blue sky, black rock, white snow, green firs, and silvery aspen—the full Colorado color wheel. —DM

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IF YOU GO

Blue Lakes Hut 

Setup: The one-room, eight-bunk cabin has a small kitchen and an outhouse.

Hut-Specific Pack List: Waterproof hut slippers, pajamas, star chart, earplugs (so you don’t hear your neighbors’ snoring).

To-Do List: Alpine touring; snowshoeing; sledding; cross-country skiing (create a three-day hut-jumping tour by skiing 7.2 miles west to the North Pole Hut, spending the night there, and then heading out via the West Fork of Dallas Creek—a short car shuttle is required)

Getting There: Take U.S. 285 south to U.S. 50 west to Montrose. Then take U.S. 550 south to Ridgway. Drive four miles west past town to CR 7. Turn left; you’ll see the trailhead at the end of the plowed road, which is where you’ll park.

Book It: $30/person/night ($240/night for the whole cabin); 970-626-3033, sanjuanhuts.com

The sun is hot for a late January day, and I find myself de-layering less than a mile into my hike to Janet’s Cabin, a rough-hewn jewel that’s nestled at timberline on the east side of the Continental Divide. I’ve never journeyed into the backcountry during the winter until today. The excursion is a birthday present to myself—one I hope my 34-year-old body can handle. The 0.6-mile, 800-vertical-feet hike up the edge of Copper Mountain Resort to reach the backcountry gate (and the start of the real haul) is serious exercise—especially with a 25-pound pack—but my hiking companion and I fare well on our snowshoes once we head beyond the resort. The easy-to-follow, snowshoe-trodden trail, which rolls through frosted pine forests before making a gentle ascent up the Guller Creek Drainage, feels like a solid but not unmanageable workout during the first four miles. The final mile—the beginning of which is marked by a blue, diamond-shaped sign with a black hut on it—is a StairMaster-style slog that leaves us begging for trail’s end.

Upon reaching the hut—a 3,000-square-foot log cabin named in honor of Janet Boyd Tyler, an avid skier and early supporter of Colorado’s ski industry—we throw down our gear and pull up a seat on the front deck to drink in views of the bowls and the ridgeline that tower above. The season’s snowfall has been meager, but there is still enough fluff for off-piste turns. We’re not here to ski, but more than half of our 18 hut-mates are. Others are planning to snowshoe, while some are here simply to enjoy a good book, a cup of cocoa, and no cell service.

We may all have different recreational plans during daylight hours, but after everyone settles in for the evening, 20 strangers morph into one huddled mass that melts snow for water, cooks dinner, cleans up, drinks boxed wine, and, finally, unwinds in the fresh mountain air. The ambience is part sleepaway camp, part freshman dormitory—surfaces are a little grimy, furniture is well-worn, and people whoop and holler walking through the falling snow to the wood-burning sauna. It’s familiar, casual, and completely charming. For a 34th birthday party, it’s ideal—not just because I feel like I checked off a bucket-list item, but also because I burned enough calories to thoroughly enjoy the chocolate-dipped cookies (5.29 ounces of delicious extra weight!) I hauled with me to mark the occasion. —Lindsey B. Koehler 
_____

IF YOU GO

Janet’s Cabin

Setup: The cabin sleeps 20; there is a living area and a kitchen on the main floor and four bunk rooms upstairs.

Hut-Specific Pack List: Water filter, pillowcase, and a swimsuit for the wood-burning sauna
To-Do List: Snowshoeing; backcountry skiing; ski touring for all ability levels.

Getting There: Take I-70 west to Exit 195. Turn into Copper Mountain Resort’s main entrance and make your first left into the north end of Alpine Lot. Park near the Transportation Center in spaces designated for Janet’s Cabin. Place your parking permit (which will be emailed to you upon reservation) on your dashboard. Take the free shuttle to Union Creek. Snowshoers: Trek up the extreme west (right) side of Roundabout ski run and then up the extreme west (right) side of West Tenmile ski run until you reach a backcountry gate. (It’s not well-marked, but you’ll see it.) This is the start of the trail to the cabin. Skiers: Take the same route as those who are snowshoeing or present your cabin reservation letter to the lift ticket office for a free, one-time ticket good for the K and L lifts. Ride them up to the top of West Tenmile ski run, and cruise down the extreme west (left) side of the slope until you reach the gate.
 

Book It: $35/person/night; 970-925-5775, huts.org

I'm sitting on a stool in a wood-framed kitchen learning the ins and outs of making curry sauce. The scene wouldn’t be unusual except that we’re in a log cabin 20 miles from the nearest town; the woman cooking is pouring spice mixes and coconut milk out of neatly labeled ziplock bags; and a full-bodied, nicely spiced chicken and veggie curry is about the last thing I expected to have for dinner in the backcountry.

Welcome to Vagabond Ranch, a cozy mountain retreat that claims backcountry hut status thanks to its easy access to more than 100 miles of groomed snowmobile trails and plentiful ski lines. But that’s where the similarities to typical backcountry abodes end. Cascade Hut, where we’re holed up on a sunny January weekend, has running water, hot showers, and indoor toilets and is about 100 yards from an on-site general store.

Other buildings dot the surrounding landscape, some dating to the 1800s. The land has changed hands many times, transforming from a hunting retreat in the 1930s to a youth summer camp in the ’60s and ’70s to, finally, a backcountry haven. There are four lodging options: Those looking to leave any pretense of home behind can opt for the four-person Parkview or two-person River View huts, which are truly off the grid. More sociable travelers will prefer the Ranch House or Cascade, which are larger and less primitive. We chose the latter—and the easy way of getting here. Instead of strapping on snowshoes or touring skis, we loaded our packs onto a sled hooked to a snowmobile and hitched a ride ($35/person round-trip) with Vagabond Ranch co-owner Jeremy Mercier.

We arrived at a cabin where 14 people—a group of family and friends who all knew each other—had already made themselves comfortable. Initially, we felt out of place, but they quickly included us in their activities. By the time the stars came out (and our bellies were full of fajitas), we were all circled around the fire singing folk songs.

Our plan to snowmobile the next day was thwarted when we found out someone had crashed our reserved machine. So we put on our snowshoes, bundled up against sub-freezing temps, and set out along the hard-packed Meadow Trail just down the hill. For an hour we puttered along, passing beautiful meadow after beautiful meadow, warmed by the sun’s rays. We spent the rest of the afternoon playing ping-pong (yes, there’s a ping-pong table) and sipping Colorado whiskey. At dinnertime, our new friends invited us to eat with them, which is how I found myself in the stocked kitchen learning the nuances of curry—and gaining the true hut experience, which involves making friends as much as making turns. —DS
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IF YOU GO

Cascade Hut

Setup: There are four different accommodations on the property. Cascade sleeps up to 16 people with a loft area and four bedrooms (eight twin beds, two full, one queen, and one king) and has a kitchen, three indoor bathrooms, a living room, and a game area.
Hut-Specific Pack List: Shower items, towel, pillowcase, cash/credit card for the on-site general store
 

To-Do List: Snowshoeing; snowmobiling; backcountry skiing; alpine ski touring.

Getting There: Head west on I-70 to the Highway 40 (Winter Park) exit. Follow 40 through Winter Park and Granby. About two miles past Granby, turn north onto Highway 125 (toward Walden). Drive 16.8 miles until you see the Stillwater Pass Road trailhead on the right (a quarter-mile before the trailhead, you’ll see a Forest Service Access sign). Park in the lot. To get to the cabins, you’ll ski/snowmobile/snowshoe 3.5 miles east on the groomed trail until you reach a fork in the road. Veer left and climb uphill for 0.3 miles until you reach Vagabond Ranch.

Book It: Cascade: $42/person/weekday, $52/person/weekend (prices vary depending on cabin); 303-242-5338, vrhuts.com

Flecks of snow accumulate on our map as we interrupt our pursuit of powder skiing to consult the topographic web. My husband and I had spent the previous hour skinning uphill from El Capitan Lodge, a plush hut near the famous Chicago Ridge where 10th Mountain Division soldiers once trained (and Ski Cooper snowcats now dispense backcountry enthusiasts). The tour felt like countless others I’d done in more than a decade of hut-tripping across Colorado, except this time my husband’s pack carried our two-year-old daughter, Simone. And instead of hiking for miles to reach our backcountry refuge, we’d driven our car right to the front door.

Located at the end of a dirt road near Tennessee Pass, within a 30-minute walk of Vance’s Cabin (one of the huts in the 10th Mountain Division system, in case you’re looking to do some hut-hopping), El Capitan combines earn-your-turns backcountry adventure with frontcountry convenience. It’s hutlike in that it sits off the grid at 10,500 feet, where it draws power from solar panels and propane. But this hand-built cabin feels luxurious—like a trophy home someone shrunk with a ray gun. Stout wooden beams support white plaster walls that are decorated with painted tiles and glass panels interlaced with ironwork. Hobbit-size cabinets hold board games and boxes of tea. We luxuriated in hot showers, snuggled on leather sofas, dozed between the silky cotton sheets provided to us, and savored Maxwell House mornings warmed by two cheery wood stoves.

Yet when we stepped out the door, we entered the backcountry. El Capitan borders the White River National Forest and offers everything from 30-minute snowshoe circuits to full-day tours on Chicago Ridge and other snowy slopes above the hut. If cranking turns is your objective, you can access plenty of worthy terrain—so long as you take avalanche precautions. After touring to the nearest powder field, we deemed the snowpack too unstable and opted instead for a sledding session on the hill beside the cabin. Then, sipping cocoa on the deck, we watched the slanting sun spotlight nearby Homestake Peak.
I’d worried that I wouldn’t decompress at El Capitan like I typically do at hike-to huts, where I’ve always felt so blissfully “away from it all.” But this luxe, kid-friendly version afforded an equal escape. Skinning up mountains and soaking in summit views, we felt a million miles from our workday worries—but closer than ever as a family.  —Kelly Bastone
_____

IF YOU GO

El Capitan Lodge

Setup: This two-story, 1,500-square-foot cabin sleeps four to six people and feels like two tiny cottages joined together. There’s a bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen in one wing; the other area contains a second bedroom and bathroom, plus a reading nook and living room.

Hut-Specific Pack List: A French press (if you sneer at the thought of making coffee in a stovetop percolator) and your favorite discs (there’s a CD player in the kitchen).

To-Do List: Alpine touring; sledding; snowshoeing (both sleds and snowshoes are provided); taking a trip to Ski Cooper, a quick one-mile drive.

Getting There: Take I-70 west. Five miles past Vail, take the Minturn exit. Hop on U.S. 24 east for 21 miles, turn left onto Forest Service Road 731, and follow the steep, winding path for 1.2 miles until you reach the cabin.

Book It: Starting in mid-summer 2014, this hut will be available for short-term rental; $295/night (two-night minimum, whole cabin rental only); 970-390-7700

The formidable san juan backcountry typically calls out to hard-core beyond-the-ropes explorers—which is to say I figured the terrain around the picturesque Aladdin’s Lamp Hut outside Silverton was just a bit out of my league. I became so nervous as we rented our avalanche safety gear that we opted for snowshoes over a skis-and-skins setup for the weekend.

The last leg of the drive to Silverton over Red Mountain Pass, with hairpin turns minus guardrails, made me squeamish, but the majestic scenery was well worth it. The drive, it turned out, was the most challenging part of reaching the hut. Not 200 yards from the roadside gate, the wood cabin appeared against the spruce trees with Grand Turk looming in the distance.

Frequent snowfall and several feet of snow buildup make snowshoes a required accessory to avoid tiring and dangerous postholing, in which legs can sink thigh-level into the snow. Still, our group of four congratulated itself on choosing a cabin with a trek conducive to lugging along a full case of beer. (A second high five–worthy decision from a duo who arrived later: piling a sled with supplies to lessen the carrying load.)

The private hut, named after the 1880s-era Aladdin’s Lamp mining claim on the same land, was built in 1996 as a yoga retreat. Current owner Kennan Harvey purchased the cabin three years ago; to make it available for rent (and to remove it from Bureau of Land Management property), he hooked up a bulldozer and dragged the entire structure 50 feet downhill.

First on the agenda after claiming our bunks and building a fire: hitting the billowy snow in front of the hut with the plastic toboggans we pulled off the porch. Our sledding luge was good for the kind of spectacular snowbank wipeouts and gut-busting laughs that bring you right back to childhood. Only when the last vestiges of daylight retreated did we trudge inside. Our snowshoes came in handy the next morning when we headed out to the groomed trails across U.S. 550 for a one-mile hike. For a moment I felt a twinge of regret at leaving my skis behind: From the cabin, there was plenty of low-angle backcountry terrain to explore. (Experts can block off six to eight hours to skin up Grand Turk, ski north off the back side, climb the south side of the Sultan, and ski a 4,500-foot vertical shot down to the highway, where they’ll need to leave a car.) But avalanche conditions were risky, and my regret dissipated by the time we kicked off our snowshoes for another round of big-air sledding. —Julie Dugdale
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IF YOU GO

Aladdin’s Lamp Hut

Setup: The two-story hut sleeps eight and has a kitchen, common area, and attached outhouse.

Hut-Specific Pack List: Paper towels, board games

To-Do List: Alpine touring; cross-country skiing; snowshoeing; snowmobile tours (try the Silverton Snowmobile Club); cat skiing (check out Silverton Powdercats); for non-thrill- seekers, visiting the Montanya Distillers Tasting Room in Silverton.

Getting there: Take U.S. 285 south about 124 miles toward Fairplay and turn right onto U.S. 50 west to Montrose. After 123 miles, go 0.8 miles on East Main Street, then turn left onto U.S. 550/South Townsend Avenue. Follow U.S. 550 about 60 miles through Silverton to a pull-off on the right about four miles past town, where a gate marks the trail. If snow makes it impossible to park, turn around and drive back a quarter-mile for additional plowed parking.
Book It: $150/weeknight, $175/weekend night, $700 weekly (two-night minimum Friday–Saturday, whole hut rentals only); 970-382-9570, silvertonskihut.com

Gear:
Pack It In

Always check the detailed list (usually available online) for your specific hut, but typically you should bring the following items: 
•    Sleeping bag
•    Pillowcase
•    Food (include some that you don’t need to cook)
•    Water
• Water-filtration system
•    Headlamp and extra batteries
•    Topographic maps
•    Compass
•    Avalanche safety gear
•    Matches/lighter
•    First-aid kit
•    Pocket knife
•    Sunglasses and goggles
•    Sunscreen
•    Slippers
•    Clothing (layer-ables, socks, jacket, ski clothes, pajamas)
•    Watch
•    Hygiene items
•    Duct tape
•    Earplugs

Hut system cabins generally come equipped with:
•    Wood- or propane-burning stoves
•    Chopped wood
•    Lighting
•    Cooking and eating utensils 
•    Cleaning supplies
•    Toilet paper
•    Mattresses
•    Pillows

 

Safety
Downward Slide
How to prep for the backcountry.

Many backcountry mountain huts are located near avalanche terrain. Even if the cabin stands a mere half-mile from the road, getting there may put you in the danger zone. Fifty-eight avalanche fatalities have occurred in this country over the past two years—18 of them in Colorado. Any foray outside the boundaries should be undertaken with the appropriate safety equipment, including a beacon, shovel, and probe. Backcountry travelers should also have enough knowledge to identify avalanche risk, make decisions about terrain and routes, and properly use the equipment. Ethan Greene, director of the Colorado Avalanche Information Center (CAIC), offers his top three avalanche awareness tips. 

Study the conditions: Besides a general weather forecast, you should know the danger level (low through extreme) for your terrain and be aware of any avalanche warnings issued. Find this and other information at CAIC’s website, colorado.gov/avalanche.

Get educated: Providers around the state (we like Aspen Expeditions and Colorado Mountain School) offer varying levels of avalanche awareness courses. Check CAIC or the American Institute for Avalanche Research and Education (AIARE) for class listings that include AIARE 1 (three-day introduction) and AIARE 2 (four-day advanced) courses. Or, visit the Forest Service National Avalanche Center (fsavalanche.com) for a basic online tutorial.

Have proper gear: It can save your life.

Recommendations:
1. Confluence Kayaks, 2373 15th St., 303-433-3676, confluencekayaks.com
2. Bent Gate Mountaineering, 1313 Washington Ave., Golden, 303-271-9382, bentgate.com
3. Neptune Mountaineering, 633 S. Broadway, Boulder, 303-499-8866,neptunemountaineering.com

 

RECIPES
Haute Cuisine
Just because you’re cooking on a wood stove doesn’t mean you can’t eat (and drink!) well. Here, four simple but tasty ideas.

Green Curry With Chicken
(Serves 6; best on first night of trip)
2 14-ounce cans coconut milk
2/₃ cup vegetable or chicken stock (can substitute water)
4–6 tablespoons Thai Kitchen green curry paste (use to taste)
3–4 tablespoons fish sauce (can substitute packets of
soy sauce)
2 pounds boneless chicken breast, cubed
3–4 cups vegetables (eggplant, zucchini, red peppers, broccoli, etc.), peeled and chopped
Instant jasmine rice (follow serving sizes and directions on packaging)
Fresh cilantro or basil

Simmer coconut milk, stock, curry paste, and fish sauce for 15 minutes. Add chicken and vegetables. Simmer 10 to 15 minutes (until chicken is fully cooked). Serve over cooked rice and garnish with cilantro or basil.


Jon Krakauer’s Hut-Trip Margaritas
(Serves 10–12)

Jon Krakauer, one of Colorado’s most famous authors and a backcountry veteran, swears by this recipe for hut-trip imbibing. His expert tip: Double the recipe.

750 milliliters Patrón Silver tequila
375 milliliters Cointreau
24 fluid ounces frozen
limeade (2 cans)
Juice from 4 limes
6–8 kumquats
Rock salt
Clean snow

Before departing, mix tequila, Cointreau, limeade, and freshly squeezed lime juice together in a Nalgene bottle. At the hut, slice the kumquats into wedges, then smear the rims of cups with kumquat juice and encrust with rock salt. Add a large dollop of snow to each cup (or crush icicles from the roof of the hut), fill with margarita blend from Nalgene, drop in a kumquat garnish, and enjoy.

Breakfast Burritos
(Serves 6)
At home: Scramble enough eggs, with bacon or sausage and chopped potatoes, onions, and red bell peppers, to fill six burritos. Mix and drain thoroughly. Roll all ingredients together in large flour tortillas, and wrap each burrito tightly in aluminum foil. Transport in a zip-sealed plastic bag. Reheat burritos on stove in the hut. Serve topped with salsa.

Lemon-Brined Smoked Chickens
(Serves 8)
2½ quarts water
¾ cup kosher salt
¾ cup fresh lemon juice
(from about 4 lemons)
2 tablespoons hot sauce (try Frank’s RedHot)
2 teaspoons black pepper, freshly ground
2 teaspoons poultry seasoning
2 4-pound chickens, backbones removed and chickens split through the breast*
¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons Paprika-Ancho Spice Rub (see recipe below)

*Tip: Ask your butcher to remove the backbones and split the chickens in half.

Paprika-Ancho Spice Rub
/₃ cup light brown sugar
¼ cup sweet paprika
2 tablespoons kosher salt
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon ancho chile powder
1 tablespoon dried oregano
1½ teaspoons ground allspice
1½ teaspoons cayenne pepper
1½ teaspoons ground cumin
1 teaspoon cinnamon

In a bowl, stir the spice rub ingredients together. Prepare the chicken before you leave for the hut. In a saucepan, combine water, salt, lemon juice, hot sauce, pepper, and poultry seasoning and bring to a boil, stirring to dissolve the salt. Let cool to room temperature. Put two chicken halves each in one-gallon resealable plastic bags. Pour half of the brine into each bag, seal, and refrigerate for eight hours.

At the hut, drain the chickens and pat dry. Sprinkle all over with the Paprika-Ancho Spice Rub, massaging it into the meat. Arrange the chickens skin side down on the grill over a drip pan. Cover and cook for about one hour at 250 degrees, rotating them a few times, until the skin is crisp. Turn the chickens skin side up and continue to cook for about 1.5 hours longer, rotating them a few times, until an instant-read thermometer inserted in the inner thigh registers 165 degrees. Monitor the grill and add more lit coals and water to the drip pan as needed to maintain the temperature and smoke level. Let the chickens rest, then serve.
Lemon-Brined Smoked Chicken recipe from Food & Wine (foodandwine.com/recipes/lemon-brined-smoked-chickens)

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