The Rise of Turtle Park

A Lesson In Perseverance

By Phil Goodstein

Turtle Park at the southeast corner of 23rd Avenue and Dexter Street is the heart of Park Hill. The evolution of the small gathering place reflects the uneven development of the area during the first three quarters of the 20th century. It has since been an iconic defining spot.

Early on, Park Hill emphasized that it was an elite, isolated suburb. Restrictive covenants stipulated there was to be no retail in the area. In 1910, the Park Hill Improvement Association (PHIA) emerged to guarantee the pristine character of the neighborhood. It particularly fought 1913 efforts to open shops at the southwest corner of 23rd Avenue and Dexter Street.

Around the same time, Park Hill Methodist broke ground for its new church at the northwest corner of the intersection. The Masons, in turn, announced they hoped to place their temple at the northeast corner of 23rd Avenue and Dexter Street.

Rather than building on that land, in 1921 the Masons committed themselves to erecting their quarters along the north side of Montview Boulevard between Dahlia and Eudora streets. Conoco, in turn, got hold of the four lots at the southeast corner of 23rd Avenue and Dexter Street, announcing in 1926 that it planned to place a filling station there. Led by PHIA, residents shot down that initiative.

The oil company kept trying, periodically reviving the push. In the meantime, cobbler Albert C. “Bert” Watkins acquired the land. He opened a shoe-repair shop there at 4716 23rd Ave. His facility was a small, simple brick building near the southeastern edge of the spread. Patrons reached it via a diagonal wooden walkway from the corner. Generally, the landscaping was more weeds than grass. The latter particularly irked neighbors who emphasized Park Hill as a section of immaculate lawns.

Remembering Ferguson

City inspectors sporadically cited Watkins for the poor shape of his lot and building. At one point, the city condemned the shack’s heating system. Watkins, consequently, could only operate the business in warm weather months. In the process, he allowed the grounds to be even more rundown. By the 1940s, Board Walk Shoe Repair was in the building. Its owner likewise neglected the yard.

Conoco exercised its option to repurchase the land in the 1950s, once more eyeing the spot for a filling station. Over the course of a dozen or so years, it filed six different applications for rezoning to allow for the service station. In the interim, Board Walk Shoe Repair remained open.

The neighborhood continually fought the Conoco initiative. Along the way, an appeal of a court ruling on the zoning reached the Colorado Supreme Court.

About the time of another fight for the filling station was percolating, William H. Ferguson died after a long illness at age 83 on May 30, 1967. General counsel for Conoco from 1921 until his retirement in 1949, Ferguson had long been executive vice president and a director of the oil company.

Goaded by Dick Young, a former chairman of the Park Hill Action Committee, a group formed in 1960, which became a component part in the creation of the Greater Park Hill Community, Inc. (GPHC). In 1970, Conoco decided to make its peace with the neighborhood and remember Ferguson by donating the disputed plot to the city for a corner park. Initially, City Hall leaders resisted the gift, thinking the site was too small. At the urging of the Greater Park Hill Community, council passed ordinance 239 of 1967, authorizing a park on the 100-foot by 125-foot spread.

All hail the turtle

Richard Lehman, an architect who lived at 2325 Eudora St., took the lead in designing the park, complete with a gazebo ordered from Sears. The Girl Scouts raised $430 for the purchase of the amenity. Neighborhood handymen volunteered their skills in putting it up and installing some playground equipment donated by Conoco.

The city added a sprinkler system and planted grass and some trees. Mayor Thomas G. Currigan showed up in June 1968 when locals staged a parade from 23rd Avenue and Albion Street to the site of the old cobbler’s shop as part of the dedication of what was officially William H. Ferguson Park. Television stations and newspapers highlighted the event.

By the early 1970s, the amateur quality of the park was showing. Kathie Cheever of 2090 Cherry St., a foremost activist in the GPHC and a young mother, took the lead in seeing a thorough remodeling of the playground.

Included was a huge cast-concrete turtle. Neighborhood children loved it. They called the place “Turtle Park.” So did their mothers. Before long, a stranger, asking for the location of Ferguson Park, might be met by blank stares, so omnipresent had the name Turtle Park become.

Almost from its origins, Turtle Park has been the embodiment of neighborhood corner parks in Denver. It spurred the creation of comparable enclaves through the city during the 1970s. The equipment in it has also reflected changing definitions of what is safe and proper in playground equipment. On occasion, children have revolted against seeming “improvements” of their space.

In 1999, with money from a bond issue in hand, the city placed a chain-link fence around the park. A permanent steel-rail fence followed the next year along with a big sign proclaiming the spread Ferguson Park—everybody still called it “Turtle Park.” By then, a new generation played by the turtle where their parents had grown up.

Per square foot, Ferguson Park has been the mostly heavily used park in the city, a reflection of Park Hill dynamism.

Denver author and historian Phil Goodstein wrote this piece exclusively for the Greater Park Hill News. Goodstein grew up near 19th Avenue and Eudora Street and remembers getting his shoes fixed at Board Walk Shoe Repair at 23rd Avenue and Dexter Street. His Park Hill Promise (Denver: New Social Publications, 2012), is the comprehensive history of the neighborhood. It is available at Park Hill Books, half a block west of Turtle Park.