Among the latter was Denver millionaire and devout Catholic John Saemen, who decided that a public statement of support would be appropriate. So Saemen, a Bill Daniels cable exec turned founding partner of the Denver investment firm Medallion Enterprises, LLC, asked friends and associates -- some in high places (Bill Owens and his wife, Frances; Representative Bob and Dr. Maureen Schaffer) and some in very high places (beer-bottler Peter Coors and his wife, Marilyn; bond broker Walt Imhoff; Bronco-buster Pat Bowlen and his wife, Annabel) -- to sign a full-page open letter that was published in Sunday's Denver Post. The text was written in a little more than an hour by a Washington, D.C.-based Catholic-magazine columnist at the request of Saemen's assistant, Peter Droege.
"It was nothing short of a miracle," says Droege, who was one of the hundred signatories.
Prior to publication, the statement was submitted to Archbishop Charles J. Chaput, leader of the 376,000 Catholics in northern Colorado, as a matter of protocol. Had the prelate -- who made his own public statements on the scandals last month -- objected to the proposed ad, it would have sent a "very substantial signal" to the group, Droege says.
The Post did send a substantial signal to the "Colorado Catholics": a $20,000 bill for the full-page ad. The group had no problem passing the collection plate, however, and backers chipped in about $400 apiece, according to sponsors.
In final form, the missive did mention support for abuse victims and their families and noted that problems should be rooted out. Still, the message that came through most clearly was solidarity with bishops and priests. "The failures of a few, no matter how serious, can not be an excuse for demeaning or suspecting all," the April 7 letter declared.
According to Droege, the ad has gotten a positive response. But not everyone is making a joyful noise. The Reverend Bill Kirton, president of the Interfaith Alliance, says he was bothered by one of the signatures: that of Bill Owens, who happens to be the governor of Colorado. "It seems like the politicization of religion," Kirton observes. "Bill Owens has been very outspoken in his support of government help for sectarian, faith-based purposes." Although the Interfaith Alliance is no stranger to politics -- the group is once again fighting an uphill battle to gain passage of a revised anti-bias bill similar to one that conservative lawmakers shot down in past years -- Kirton feels that this statement of Catholic support is part of a larger pattern of conservatives in various denominations trying to influence public policy.
According to Dan Hopkins, the governor's spokesman, Owens signed the statement as a private citizen and wasn't attempting to link his office with the cause. And was Owens's office paying Hopkins's salary while he was speaking about the governor's activities as a "private citizen"?
God only knows.
Can you dig it? First came the attempt to break the Guinness World Record for crowd noise, during an October 1, 2000, football game between the Denver Broncos and the New England Patriots at the old Mile High Stadium. (Denver was successful, by the way: We're Number One!) Then there was the effort to capture Guinness recognition for the most people to watch an outdoor movie, during a showing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show at Red Rocks on July 10, 2001. (The city has submitted documentation attesting to its success that evening, according to Erik Dyce of the Denver Division of Theatres and Arenas, but it may take several years before Guinness bestows the honor.)
Now the Denver Metro Convention & Visitors Bureau will try to break the Guinness record for the largest groundbreaking celebration in history -- the current record of 800 people is held by an Ace Hardware in Loxley, Alabama -- when it arms more than 800 people with commemorative miniature plastic shovels and lets them loose April 29 at the future site of the expanded Colorado Convention Center.
According to bureau spokesman Rich Grant, the stunt has a purpose: to show the rest of the country that Denver actually will have an expanded convention center. "The problem we've had with this project is that it's been on-again/off-again," he says, explaining that the succession of broken hotel deals tied to the CCC expansion -- Marriott and Hyatt both bailed, and after Mayor Wellington Webb wrested the job from developer Bruce Berger, the ball's now back in the city's court -- hasn't exactly given meeting planners warm and fuzzy feelings about scheduling their conventions here. "To meeting planners who've been following it like a saga, we want them to know that we are definitely breaking ground," Grant adds. "So when we do it, we want to do it with a bang that says we are not only going ahead, but we have the support of the community."
And how does the bureau plan to find that support in a community that has offered only mixed enthusiasm for an expanded CCC, since Denver voters approved funding the expansion three years ago? By getting the people who will benefit most from the expansion to dig in and do the dirty work. "There are 30,000 full-time people who work in the tourism industry," Grant says, "and if you are in the tourism industry, this is worth celebrating for a couple hours. I don't think we'll have to do a tremendous amount of arm-twisting."
And neither will the 800-plus lucky diggers. Since Guinness doesn't require each participant to have a shovel, the bureau will be providing most of the folks who show up with small plastic trowels, which won't require much heavy-lifting. Dig-nataries like Mayor Webb will probably receive something a little more ceremonial to hang on to, Grant says.
The bureau will also need two independent eyewitnesses to verify the crowd size, signatures from all the participants and photographic documentation. But that last requirement won't pose a problem, since photos are one of the primary reasons the event is being staged. "Every trade magazine will run a photo of it, especially if we get a dramatic photo," Grant says, adding that some of the hospitality groups represented may turn out in uniform -- chefs in their chef hats (digging with spoons and ladles), restaurant waitstaffs in their aprons, maybe bellhops in their hotel garb.
And as long as lots of meeting planners read those trade mags, then actually breaking the record is immaterial. "The attempt is the important thing," Grant concludes. "If we don't break the record, no one is going to care."
Splitting hairs: For decades, would-be mayoral candidates have launched their campaigns from the Denver City Auditor's Office. And while the strategy didn't add up to a win for some auditors, such as Mike Licht, it worked for Wellington Webb back in 1991.
Current auditor Don Mares hopes it will work for him, too. But he's not resting all of his mayoral aspirations on his post as auditor; he's already out campaigning around town. So it wasn't a surprise to see Mares at the Rockies' home opener Monday at Coors Field.
What was surprising was to see his double, a look-alike so convincing that he fooled two hardcore journalists sitting a few rows up from the glad-hander in section 136. But the man they thought was would-be-mayor Mares was really political consultant Sean Walsh, who sports a shock of white in the front of his well-cropped dark hair. "It's happened two or three times before," Walsh says. "It must be the hair."
Walsh knew that Mares was at the game; he'd actually followed him through security. But then, he's learning a lot about what it takes to be auditor. Walsh may wind up running Denver City Councilman Ed Thomas's campaign for city auditor.
Thomas is one of a trio of term-limited councilmembers eyeing that post; Dennis Gallagher and Debbie Ortega are also interested. Which means that Mares isn't the only political type Webb will be fighting as he tries to change the city charter to redefine the role of auditor. "I don't think he has seven votes," says Thomas. "In these days of Enron, you don't take auditing power away from the independent auditor."
