Opinion: Buildings Tell The Stories Of A City, Of Us

By John Deffenbaugh

For the GPHN

I am typing this letter stuck in a very tight seat somewhere over the Atlantic, returning from Glasgow, Scotland, where I was visiting my parents for the holidays.

I grew up there and love going back for many reasons. Family and friends are of course at the top of the list, followed by the quality and continuity of its architecture and urban fabric. Like the concentric rings of a tree, the city grows out of its grand core, through Georgian and Victorian neighborhoods, to the post-war suburbs and beautiful countryside beyond. Glasgow is a city built of masonry and, perhaps because of this robust material, its buildings have evolved and adapted over time to tell the story of their city.

While Denver’s growth may be less concentric, it does, for now, have a comforting legibility with a clear link between its neighborhoods and the story of the overall city. From Curtis Park, Denver’s first suburb, to Globeville, home to many of the city’s first immigrants, to Five Points, the Harlem of the West, the contributions of each community to the growth and culture  of their city are clear not just in academic books, but from a walk around each neighborhood (ideally with one of Historic Denver’s expert guides).

Park Hill is no different. Dating from the 1880s, the architecture of the neighborhood embodies the eclecticism of its early residents. From grand Victorian villas to midcentury homes, the neighborhood’s many original buildings carry the patina of Denver’s growth and are a testament to their robust construction and adaptable design.

I was a resident of Park Hill in the 90s. In 2017 I moved back to Denver, 20 years after graduating from East High School. It was comforting to see that villas on Montview Boulevard remain largely intact. I used to admire them and imagine what life would be like if I, somehow, would ever have the fortune of living in one.

It is therefore somewhat strange to be writing a piece about the potential demolition of one of these very buildings.

Built with the same bones as the masonry buildings in my home town of Glasgow, these structures are robust, adaptable, extendable, and versatile. They can grow to suit the needs of future generations, provided there is a will to nurture and respect them. The bungalow I once lived in on 23rd and Eudora has been sensitively converted to two stories. The building’s appearance has been altered but the weathering on its brickwork remains and the porch where previous generations (myself included) hung out on is still there.

Buildings tell the story of their cities and their communities; they tell the story of us. Collectively, they enrich our lives and keep history alive.

The first owner of 5013 Montview Blvd. was Harry Huffman, who contributed greatly to the vibrant Denver we know today. He was a theater mogul who came to own, at one time or another, nearly every theater in Denver during the 1920s, 30s and 40s. His name was emblazoned in lights on the Tabor Theater. This is one of the reasons his former home was flagged by Denver as being potentially eligible to become a local landmark, allowing the owners to access tax credits, as would a preservation easement.

Unfortunately, the permit that triggers the demolition review and resulting historical data was applied for late in the development process and the building now faces demolition.

There could still be an opportunity to retain and sensitively equip the home for the modern world, provided there is the will to do so. If you would like to support the future of 5013 Montview Blvd, please share the Zillow sale listing and email 5013Montview@gmail.com.

The author is CEO of Historic Denver.