|Texas Roadhouse and They Are Great!|
We had taken pictures of the breathtaking sunset and still the place looked a bit like a prairie town but it did have some hills. It didn't take me long before I was hinting at a bit of dessert not desert, and it was that too, but something sweet.
|Prettiest Picture of Pueblo|
|My great great grandmother, Mary Ellen McCarty|
Morning: July 18th
And then, we woke-up! Oh Dustin, I'm so sorry you were here in Pueblo for so long on your mission. This is where Dustin was a Zone Leader and he did travel a lot, but out his window was the non-working and rusty steel mill and the old railroad yards.
|The Newer East Side of Old Downtown|
Pueblo was industrial city, but it must be worse because so much has stopped. The depression in our economy makes this all plain and simple ... big city, ugly. I know my son did a huge amount of missionary of work here, but it was darn hard. I did get the traditional Christmas card with he and his companion (backs to the camera) in the snow just walking down railroad tracks. I didn't realize, but should have known. My great grandfather was a railroad worker and was here in Pueblo for years and unbeknownst to my son, Dustin passed his cemetery everyday. Emmett Charles O'Connor is buried in the Catholic cemetery just a couple blocks from where Dustin was living.
Great Grandpa O'Connor's name is spelled wrong.
It's Emmett (not "L") Charles O'Connor
and the cause of his death was lip cancer.
Lesson: Do not smoke or chew tobacco!
|Section 55 and in the center and a couple rows back from the lane|
I wonder how many times Dustin passed-by the orphanage that held his own favorite great-grandfather, Frank Charles O'Connor.
This is the gate to the orphanage and just blocks from
where my son served the end-part of his mission.
How many times did Dustin pass-by here? I'm guessing, many
Grandpa Leprechaun (Dustin's own made-up name for
my very short Irish grandpa) Grandpa O'Connor was
known as "Grandpa Leprechaun" by my children.
Steve and I visited the Sacred Heart Orphanage. A description of it would be, in my head, a place of torture and a scary place for very young boys that happened to be of the wrong nationality, Irish. My census records shows my grandfather and my two uncles with their names and listed as only 11 years old, (my grandfather) Uncle Everett as 8 years old, and Uncle Jess, as only 3 years old.
|How My Children Remember my Grandfather and his two brothers.|
|Sacred Heart Orphanage (not good)|
As I look as the pictures of the orphanage I can just imagine that the little Asian children were treated equally harsh, but weren't as feisty as my grandfather and my two uncles. They lived there while their dad worked and their dad paid for their keep. I don't think he knew how abused the children were that lived there. I have to add here that the children that were the offspring of the nuns (and had German names) like the German nuns, they were treated very differently. The boys lived at the top of the orphanage, the very top, because my grandfather and uncles kept trying to escape. Grandpa O'Connor said they would OFTEN slide down the rain gutters and try and get over the high fence around the yard.
|See On The Side of The Building, how small the rain gutters were.|
|My grandfather and uncles were on the 4th floor at the top.|
The Sacred Heart Orphanage is an apartment house now, and I was asked if I wanted to go inside. I should've gone. But, seeing how tall this place was and the danger my two uncles and grandfather went through so often to get-out, I don't think my heart was strong enough. I cried for them. There's a happy part to this because someone in the family had connections with a Bishop in the Catholic Church. My mom (this is my mom's father) said that a Bishop and believed to be Grandpa O'Connor's uncle, lived in Chicago. The boys were pulled-out of there and sent to Palisade, Colorado and transferred to the orphanage there. My grandfather talked of the orphanage in Palisade like it was finally his family. He said the French nuns were completely different. The nuns were sweet and caring and he loved it there. Grandpa said he had great memories of his stay there. Of course, it wasn't a long stay because in a couple years he had to go to work in the silver mines as a teenager. Once you're a teenager, you're on your own.
I was writing, my daughter text messages about the nuns in Pueblo,
and my spell check changed the nuns to "Ninjas" not far-off!
It was still burning hot outside and not fun walking through all the cemeteries in the whole town. I felt blessed to find Emmett O'Connor and thankfully he was easy to find in Section 55. The date of death was 1924, and the desk had his exact place on their computer. I was grateful for the office helping us. No kidding, this was the last place to find him because it was the only cemetery left in town we had not scoured and I wasn't to keen in the hot sun. Does 106 degrees just float across all the central states, all summer?
|Yes, my missionary went up on the high bridge|
|Only thought prisons were here. Old home that housed the warden|
The canyon had another surprise. The Arkansas River, again! Is this maybe the headwaters of the river? We have seen a lot of this river. Back a few years ago, we crossed it to see Bree in Fort Smith, Arkansas. I think I need to find more information on where it starts and where all this water comes from. Now there's rafting, and horseback riding, hiking trails, and tours everywhere.
|NOT AFRAID and I know why!|
Wildlife is everywhere and fill the mountains and they're not afraid, even the big raptor birds.Did I see an actual Bald Eagle? I don't know what all of them were, but it was wonderful. I think we met a Marmot or was it a Woodchuck? Oh, then it could be Ground Hog?
Canyonland scenery is picturesque and that's an understatement because nowadays one place gets a dozen shots from my Canon Camera. I've gotta' slow-down or really delete. The mountains are fantastic and the forest is like real 3-D! I don't think I should describe it that way but the Blue Spruce and the green pines and then the Aspens together--there are no words to describe Southwestern Colorado.
The barns, oh the barns! So different and unique. I think I've decided that Colorado has the best in the west!