On their 17th century trek north into what is now Colorado, the Spanish marched into a whole new world. They saw new flora, new fauna, mountains that seemed to pierce the sky and endless oceans of wildflowers that exploded in kaleidoscopic splendor. But something else caught their eye.
Photo courtesy: LaVozColorado Staff
It was the way the sunlight, with a gossamer delicacy, gave already rust-shaded sandstone an unmistakable blush. The term they used to describe it was ‘colorado,’ Spanish for colored red. The name became official in 1861 when the region was rebranded a territory and, in 1876, a state.
“I tell my grandchildren that all the time,” said long-time Denver political icon, Ramona Martinez. Actually, long before telling her grandchildren, Martinez often wondered why a state so culturally and genetically branded offers so little to remind the world of this historic legacy.
Retired federal government executive and self-described ‘community connector’ Patricia Rivera Barela whose family history can be traced back to New Spain’s first arrivals shares Martinez pique.
Nearly thirty years ago, as a plan crystalized to right this wrong and a building for their dream became available—a building that sits at the intersection of Speer and Colfax—the Coors Foundation stepped up with a donation for the purchase. It was gifted to the city. In a symbolic ‘sale,’ then Denver Mayor Wellington Webb sold it to Martinez and her group—for a dollar. “I outbid (iconic historic preservationist) Dana Crawford,” Martinez chuckled.
But unforeseen delays, procrastination, perhaps, excuses, produced no results. The site became home to a series of other occupants, including the Hispanic Chamber of Commerce and Rocky Mountain SER, but never a heritage center or museum. But fortuitous timing and a new energy have resuscitated the dream.
Fast forward to 2022. Momentous national and state birthdays were approaching. Commissions—‘America 250’ and ‘Colorado 150’— were formed to commemorate them. Martinez was appointed to Colorado’s and Governor Jared Polis’ marching orders to her were simple, she said, “Think Big!” She did and got others to buy in.
Martinez, Rivera and longtime Denver and Colorado political force, Polly Baca, along with enthusiastic partners representing all areas of the state got on board. (In Denver Debbie Ortega, Juana Bordas and a tapestry of others reflecting gender, age, and ethnicity joined in.)
Denver was chosen as the location for the future site, though Pueblo and other regional sites were all thoughtfully considered. After scouring the city, good fortune and a little political muscle, —the Governor offered his suggestion—the group located what appears to be ‘ground zero’ for this dream. The Auraria High Education Complex.
With friends in high places, a small, but determined army of allies, including Ivan Anaya, a developer who the pair say has pledged his help to bring the museum to fruition, the elements are beginning to coalesce.
Martinez and Barela are acting as ‘point’ for this effort, but each is adamant that their roles are no bigger, no more important than their group’s members who represent every corner of Colorado.
They expect, barring any unanticipated event like, say, Covid, that the museum’s ‘balloon drop’ will happen on time and meet the country’s sesquicentennial—250th birthday—and Colorado’s 150th.
Martinez, Barela and their “village” envision a museum with colorful murals, stories about the women and men who, at the right moment, stood tall for the things that may not have been popular, but right and narratives of the events in which Latinos may have been forgotten but were surely as instrumental as anyone else.
“It’s something overdue for our community,” Martinez said. “We’ve spent so many years trying to make things better.” When the doors open on this dream, she said, everyone will know that you can never “be afraid to put out the truth to our country…We’ve left a legacy.”
Martinez story will certainly be included among many others. The daughter of a WWII veteran who returned to Denver to raise a family and a caring homemaker mother, she lived a life light years beyond a that little brown girl’s wildest dreams.
She recently recalled an indelible school days memory. Her teacher was querying her classmates about their dreams. When she stopped on the only Hispanic child in the room, she Martinez recalled the moment. ‘Ramona,” the teacher said, “your hair is always so neat. You should be a beautician.’
“Not that being a beautician is a bad thing,” Martinez said. But she had so much more in mind—and she achieved it.
She was elected to Denver City Council in 1987 and served multiple terms. She also found a niche in national politics, playing a role in several presidential elections. Today she may be retired but never retiring.
“When I look back, I would never have imagined I was going to do the things I have. Lawrence (her late husband) and I didn’t have the start that many people had. What we did, we did for others.”
The same for the Corrales, New Mexico, native Barela who grew up on a small ranch with nine siblings. “We did it all,” she said. They bailed hay, worked cattle and did the dirty work of ranching. But the hard work forged an identity.
After leaving the ranch, she took jobs with the U.S. Forest Service and steadily worked her way from New Mexico to jobs around the country, each step a higher rung on the ladder. Before retiring, she held top level appointments with different government agencies.
Never afraid of hard work, Barela says conceiving the idea of a museum and bringing it this far has been a lesson in sweat equity, perseverance and love.
“From the beginning, we felt it was such a good thing to do,” she said. “Everyone needs to know the history of our culture and what we’ve done for this country.” The museum or heritage center or whatever it may be called, Barela said, will be confirmation that, “We’re here, we belong here, and no one will ever take it away.”
After far too many stops and starts on a decades-long voyage, the cadre of Martinez, Barela, Baca, Ortega, Bordas, Chavez, Anaya, Espinosa and so many others, are true disciples of a simple axiom: “The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.”
