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FrontRangeLiving.com -> Architecture -> Georgetown Victorians
 GEORGETOWN
VICTORIANS
By Niki Hayden
Georgetown can slip right by motorists on Highway I-70. It’s a blip of a
town on a road that snakes through ski country in Colorado. Tourists and
Colorado residents may have heard of the Georgetown Loop Railroad, the choice
for earlier transportation. But if they speed by, they’ll miss the true jewels
of the historic district. If you’re looking for architecture with flounce,
filigree and whimsy, Georgetown is the destination. What once was a boomtown of
silver mining in the late 1800s is now the mother lode of Victoriana.
"It’s always been a frou-frou town," says Christine Bradley, the
archivist for Clear Creek County. "With all the beautiful  gardens and
fences, it’s always been made up of settled families. Leadville and Black Hawk
were the classic boisterous Western towns. Georgetown was always trying to shut
down saloons."
Georgetown is a ladylike town. Street after street of Victorian homes display
Gothic Revival at its most glorious—dripping with lace and ornate decorative
touches. In its heart lies an embroidered doily.
 On a bitter cold winter day, Christine joins Ron Neely, President of Historic
Georgetown, huddled in the Alpine Inn Restaurant, both hunched over hot coffee.
The Christmas extravaganza that the town regales in is over and now a chilling
wind whips through this narrow valley. Although Georgetown is lovely for
walking, only a straggler or two braves the streets today. The hardy few walk
stiff-legged, bent against the wind. While the 19th century
carpenters may have delighted in delicate architecture, the residents were
tough.
Georgetown once made its fortune in silver and the remnants of that boom
remain. But it’s also a reminder that fortunes last for a short time, perhaps
only a decade, before extravagance collapses and something more permanent moves
in.
 Tourism. Middle-class mercantilism. Skilled craftsmen. Quiet neighborhoods.
These are the elements that lasted over 100 years. Georgetown dwindled from 5000
at its zenith to about 1100 today, count 200 more if you include the sister town
of Silver Plume. Poor prospectors and wealthy mine owners departed. What they
left behind was a solid middle class. That aspect of the town, Ron says, hasn’t
altered.
"There is a characteristic of Georgetown that hasn’t much changed
since the 19th century. Gambling is not out of character for Black
Hawk. But it would be for Georgetown. People find the town that fits them
best," he says.
 Tourism was always important, Christine adds, and remains the major economy.
People once journeyed to Georgetown for their health, and the merchants provided
a hospitality industry to serve their needs. The Hotel de Paris was the place to
be. The Hotel no longer takes in guests, but the small restaurants are full.
With the cold wind, coffee shops do a brisk business.
And then, there was the silver mine. Like so many extractive industries of
Colorado, the mine exists only as a ghost. Along with the railroad, it’s a
reminder of the past. By itself, it would be only an artifact. What has held
value for the town through the century are historic neighborhoods.
 Georgetown offers an array of historic buildings that few towns can feature.
Within walking distance are three historic churches: Roman Catholic,
Presbyterian, and Episcopal. An old energy museum stands alongside its modern
day sibling just down the street. The commercial district isn’t different from
19th century shopping forays. Many streets are unpaved. Old
firehouses stand tall. Street after street is lined with houses that date to
1870.
And, yet, this is not Disneyland. This is authentic. "It’s a real
town," says Kathy Hoeft, who with her husband, Gary Long, is a principal in
their architectural firm. They specialize in historic buildings and found
themselves lured from Denver to Georgetown in 1982. "Preservation is
important to some, but not all," she says. "So it will never be a
museum experience. It’s also not a place of grand houses. That’s partly what
makes it comfortable. It’s within reach of most people."
 There is one spectacular house, which has been preserved as a museum. The
Hamill House, a sprawling white Victorian complete with conservatory, was
purchased by Historic Georgetown in 1971 for $100,000. Today it’s the anchor
for a series of homes destined to be a collection. The Hamill House was built in
1867 and purchased by William Arthur Hamill, who owned the silver mine. It
remains the grandest property in the town.
To underscore the wide range of economic classes in the small town, Historic
Georgetown included four additional properties: the intricately detailed
Bowman-White House, which housed the mine’s manager. The sturdy Kneisel House,
home of a merchant family. The Kneisel name remains on the front of a store
along the commercial main street and has stayed within the family. The fourth is
a miner’s home tucked behind the Bowman-White House and fifth is a prospector’s
rustic log cabin not far away.
It’s not a fully developed museum array, Ron says. The Kneisel House, for
example, is the site of a Montessori school for now. But the hope of volunteers
who work on the homes is to provide a snapshot of the economic strata in the
late 19th century. A mine owner might reside not far from the tiny
homes of his mine employees. People lived in close proximity despite
extraordinary discrepancies between wealth and poverty. The Kneisel house
embodies the modest respectability that would surface as middle class.
 "This was so appealing to us as a firm," Kathy says about the
five-house acquisition. "They have an insight that goes way beyond what
most organizations do. It’s not open to show yet. It may take ten years."
"It may take twenty," Ron says with a sigh. Thirty years ago, he
and a few friends closed the bar at the Alpine Inn one Christmas night and
discussed starting an organization that would preserve buildings in Georgetown.
It became the genesis for Historic
 Georgetown and immediately flopped. "We
wanted a voice to speak for the cultural assets of Georgetown but neglected to
include the old-timers of the town. The old-timers told us to get the hell out
of town. They had seen organizations like ours before." With failure came
wisdom. Ron says he never made that mistake again. Suddenly the Hamill House was
up for sale and he learned about fund-raising. "We found ourselves in the
museum business. I’m not sure we knew how to spell museum."
 Other buildings surfaced for sale. The Hotel de Paris turned into a museum by
default. Located on a corner of the commercial district, the owner, Louis Depuy,
a mysterious character, built and staffed the hotel until his death. He died
from pneumonia, Kathy says, "it didn’t help that he believed the cure was
cold baths."
The Hotel de Paris stopped abruptly with his death, a phenomenon akin to the
experience of the "Sleeping Beauty." Kathy turns the key in the lock
of the hotel and a small world unfolds. Little has been altered since the day
Louis died. Instead of the residents slumped over their desks, tables and beds
in a 100-year sleep, they have vanished.
 Pens rest on a desk, books line a shelf, barrels of wine shipped from Fresno,
California, collect decades of dust in the basement, dishes are washed and put
away. Furniture is placed exactly as it was. The rooms contain several beds and
armoires. Chairs are abundantly sprinkled throughout. Little was sold or given
away.
"Often people simply walked away from their homes and did not take their
things with them," Kathy says. The kitchen is expansive with large tables
and not a single modern convenience in sight. It could be the set for theatre,
waiting for the first act.
Just up the street, the Episcopal Church hugs a steep hill. Next door an old
antiques store now serves as a parish house where
 tea is served. The church
claims to have been the first--almost. But a fierce wind blew the partially
constructed building away. It became the second oldest Episcopal Church in
Colorado, dating to 1870. On any given Sunday, Kathy says that as many as nine
to 11 parishioners may show up. Its greatest claim to fame is the original
working pipe organ.
Only one block away sits Christine’s white house nestled against the
mountain backdrop. When she bought the house, the porch was missing. "A
previous owner tied a rope around the porch, hitched it to his truck and drove
off with it in the middle of the night," she says. Now it looks complete,
as if the house has been fitted with a row of new teeth.
 Christine is one of only two archivists in the state of Colorado. Her
bailiwick is county records dating from 1859 to 1950-mostly mining claims and
easement rights that provide the foundations to modern deeds. She describes the
claims as looking like pickup sticks dropped in a pile. Her interest in Clear
Creek County dates to 1974, when she offered to write a brochure on the Hamill
House. The brochure turned into a masters’ thesis and clinched her desire to
live in Georgetown.
"I like walking at night in the town," she says, "When lights
are on in the houses, it’s like a real historical setting. With the
restoration of the old houses, there’s a sense of walking back in time. We don’t
want a town where people dress in costume. The crux of the matter is that
preservation is in the hands of private homeowners. They want to be able to put
their personalities into their homes. That’s why you’ll see formal gardens
next to wildflower gardens."
 And then, Georgetown is a small town, complete with gossip and intrigue.
"There’s no anonymity," Ron says. He warns those who want to settle
in Georgetown that they must balance what they will gain with what they may
lose. There is no doctor. A few shops sell a small selection of groceries, but
the nearest supermarket is in Idaho Springs. Residents quickly learn to befriend their
neighbors because they may need their help. "It’s a wonderful sense of knowing everybody," he says,
"but then there’s a lot of things you know about everybody and that’s
not always comfortable."
And all the homes are modest by today’s standards. Ron moved into his
cottage six years ago. Small for a house, he says, but about the same size as a
prime stateroom on the Queen Elizabeth II luxury liner. He’s comfortable in
the space of yesterday. Even so, Georgetown will always be a new population
defining the past. "It’s not going to be what it was in the 19th
century," Ron says, "But why do people visit history? I think it
brings tranquility, a sense of understanding and serenity. I hope people will
appreciate it even more in the future and I believe most are proud of it. I want
people to say that Georgetown is a mountain town where the people have done a
wonderful job with their history."
 Editor’s note: Georgetown’s hospitality includes the only bathroom stop
between Idaho Springs and Vail. And many travelers don’t go beyond the exit
point of the highway. If you’re weary and in need of food, look up the
restaurants in Historic Georgetown. They’re excellent and modestly priced. The
Hotel de Paris has been owned and operated by the National Society of the
Colonial Dames of America in Colorado since 1954. It's open to the public from
Memorial Day to October.
Ron Neely died in January of 2006.
Helpful websites:
www.historicgeorgetown.org
www.hoteldeparismuseum.org
www.georgetownlooprr.com
www.georgetowncolorado.com
www.discovercolorado.com
www.georgetownenergymuseum.org
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