I have never known a Denver without Dana Crawford.
In so many ways, she created the Denver I love.
My first introduction to Denver was coming with my family by train from Chicago. Before we caught the Yampa Valley mail train up to Winter Park, we headed over to brand-spanking-new Larimer Square, and the first Mexican restaurant I'd ever been to. Ten years later, I returned and started Westword.
Dana wasn't from Denver, either, but she made this city her own.
She was born and raised in Salina, Kansas; attended Monticello College in Alton, Illinois, and then the University of Kansas before heading to Radcliffe College (now part of Harvard University) to get a degree in business administration. Living in Boston, she fell in love with that city's vast collection of historic buildings and neighborhood gathering places. When she moved to Denver in 1954, she hoped to find similar spots.
She didn't.
While raising four boys with her late husband, John, she explored the city — and in 1963 she discovered the perfect spot, on Larimer Street between 14th and 15th streets, in the heart of what was then Denver’s skid row.
That block of Larimer already had a storied past. It had been home to Denver’s first bank, as well as its first bookstore, dry goods store and photographer; the original City Hall stood on the grassy corner of 14th. “This is where Denver started,” Dana recalled when we interviewed her in 2016, when she was 85. “There was an enormous amount of inventory here that reminded me of the buildings in Boston. I became obsessed and possessed with the idea of saving it.”
Save it she did. Even as the wrecking ball was turning other historic blocks into parking lots, Dana saved this block of Larimer, turning it into Larimer Square. In the late '60s, it was a place for tourists to come listen to music at Your Father's Moustache, eat oysters at Laffite's and eat Mexican food at a restaurant whose name I can never remember (neither could Dana; she'd occasionally call me to ask for it). In the late '70s, it was becoming a gathering place for Denver residents, too, who'd frequent the Market, see films at the Flick and shop for very old office supplies at Crest Distributing.
We'd walk over from the first Westword office on Market Street to see Dana, braving her reputation as the "Dragon Lady" - a nickname largely acquired because she dared to dream big and sass the old boys at the same time - in vain attempts to sell advertising. Instead, we'd often get caught up in her giddy plans for special projects on the Square. Yes, she wanted to preserve the past...but she had such visions fo the future.
Dana Crawford kept working into her nineties.
Anthony Camera
And still she didn't stop. Dana consulted on developments across the country, and continued to take on ambitious projects in Colorado: in Trinidad, with its trove of old buildings; in Idaho Springs, another historic treasure.
But Dana was the real historic treasure. She left Denver an incredible legacy; now it's our job to preserve it.
She showed us how.
Do you have memories of Dana Crawford? We'll be sharing them in the days to come; send them to [email protected].
