“No place stays unchanged. That’s probably a good thing … ” Chris Dickey, business owner and former publisher of the Times wrote in the 12th Gunnison Valley Journal, released this week.
The new 64-page publication is titled “The Community Issue: The Community Is the Issue." Its creators, Maryo Ewell and George Sibley, invited valley residents to explore questions like: What brought you here and what keeps you here? What changes do you see here as positive — and what has changed you wish hadn’t? The result is a collection of personal essays, memoirs, poems, lyrics, letters, photographs, art and even parts of a play, that reflect on what it means to call the Gunnison Valley home. A number of entries appear in both English and Spanish, thanks to translations by Yamel Aguirre.
Following its release this week, free copies can be found at both libraries and visitor centers, the Gunnison City Hall and rec center, the Gunnison Arts Center (GAC), a number of local businesses on Main Street, among numerous other locations in the valley. As some of the contributions were too long to print, an online journal “supplement,” posted on gard-sibley.org includes the full-length version as well as more images.
“We hope people will want them not just to get a new look at the unexpected depth of some of their neighbors, but also to send out to friends and family who wonder why in the world we're all living here,” Sibley told councilors at a council meeting on Dec. 3.
The GAC and Gunnison Creative District are hosting a community celebration for the new journal on Jan. 16. Some writers will be asked to read excerpts from their piece. Below are a few short excerpts from the journal, exploring themes of loss, heritage and hope for the future.
Community — Living Deliberately
By Hans Rohde
When they told me the magazine was about community I had to chuckle. Do people come here to join a community? This is a place people discover in their effort to get away from other folks. They come here to slow down, to commune with nature. They come here to get away from the rat race. But now, it seems, that the rat race has followed us here. We have parking problems, housing problems, worker shortages and full campgrounds …
And yet it is still possible, with a small effort, to get away, to climb to that secret place that only we know, where the pine humus smells as sweet as always, where each boulder and tree sit and stand where they always have, where we can slow down and think clearly as if time has stopped. These mountains offer us a glimpse of eternity with their timelessness and endless patience.
Unexpected Art
By Sandy Guerrieri
It started in October, many years ago, with an idea, and some bright orange and black cans of spray paint. I painted a pumpkin face on the end of our stacked row of round hay bales, at the edge of Highway 135.
Upon completion, I stepped back, liked it, and hoped that it would make people smile as they passed by. In November, I painted a turkey on a bale. December a candy cane. February a red heart. And 25 years later, I’m wondering what to paint on the hay bale for this winter. No longer on Highway 135, I paint hay bales at our Mill Creek Ranch.
Something stirs inside of us humans to see round hay bales scattered throughout a green hay meadow during haying season. Think the moon, the earth, the cycle of seasons, the circle of life … Simplicity. The hay is harvested from our ranch; hay bale art is a connection to ranching, and our agricultural roots.
What Was, and What is
By Naomi Treadwell
The mountain trails, like a great brown snake,
Slither through the field of rainbows,
Mountains, and valleys of the land.
Enjoy this land before rich men and their greed
Cloud nature with their putrid problems,
Fill the air with the smoke and dust of construction,
And swarm the land with
Million dollar houses
Like a cloud of angry gnats.
What was, and what is.
Will we ever be able to give back what we took?
A Day in the Life of a Project Hope Advocate: A Journey
to Restore Hope
By Maria Lucia Perez
As an advocate, each day brings a new challenge, and today was no different. My mission? To help one of our clients, a courageous woman, regain her identity — quite literally. All of her identification documents had been destroyed in a domestic violence incident. Without these papers, she couldn’t access basic services, secure housing, or even prove who she was …
I picked her up early in the morning, and we set out on the long journey to the Guatemala Consulate in Denver. We realized we had some extra time. I decided to take a tour over Cottonwood Pass. My client had never been there, and I wanted to share this beautiful part of Colorado with her. As we drove through the towering peaks and lush valleys, a sense of peace settled in — something we both needed after the stress and uncertainty.
The Compassionate Community
By Emily Mirza
Hearing the words “you have cancer” is something no one ever wants, and hearing “stage 4 advanced” sends you into a whirlwind of fear, anger, disbelief, grief and loneliness … My community became part of my lifeline. The care and support I received came in ways I didn't even know I needed.
It was as if the entire community rallied around me, creating a vast web of human connection that extended far beyond my immediate circle. It wasn't just those close to me who showed up. Support came from people connected to them, weaving a cocoon of care and concern around me. This experience reshaped my understanding of what community truly means for me. The true strength of this place I call home, lies in its people.
Community Continuity and Change
By Chris Dickey
So, what is it, exactly, that makes a place feel special, like a place a person could be from? It’s obviously not a town’s collection of corporate franchises — the chorus of lament I heard when Gunnison’s Taco Bell shuttered. Conversely, could identity come from running said generic businesses out of town? On that front, Gunnison’s resume is impressive …
It’s the staying power of the human connections that define a community’s character. It's knowing that the town cop picks a mean mandolin at the campfire jam, that the guy walking dogs down the street is a retired judge, that the little old lady promoting Poppy Day lost a son in the 1971 bus crash.
This fall I heard someone lament that Gunnison has ‘lost that feeling of a small, friendly community.’ I suspect there are plenty of other long-timers here who share that sentiment. But I don’t think that’s something you can blame on local government, some regulations or taxes. Nor do I believe it’s something you regain through legislation. This sounds silly but it’s up to us, the people, to keep those human connections alive.
(Bella Biondini can be contacted at 970.641.1414 or bella@gunnisontimes.com.)
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