The Hill

John Parker

Anonymous — Mon, 06 Nov 2023 07:00:00 +0000

John Parker Anonymous (not verified) Mon, 11/06/2023 - 00:00

Robert Truett

When you were hungry and didn’t have any money, the Pied Piper had your back.

The owner of the small Pennsylvania Street diner on The Hill, John Parker, had a book where you could chalk up your debts. Although, in the late 1950s, most people seldom let it get past $20, Parker never squawked, and a couple of people, it is told, ran it up to $100. But as long as you paid Parker before summer break or made some arrangement with him, it was OK.

I have only heard it referred to as the Pied Piper once or twice. True enough, the red letters above the door said that, but nearly everyone called it Parker’s.

Parker — a small man with ruddy cheeks and a hard-worked face — worked every day from 6a.m. to 6 p.m. except on Friday afternoons, when he closed at 2 p.m. because that’s when many of his customers were drinking.

Parker’s place had seven stools, a cash register and a small upraised counter on the right side of the diner where “the book” was kept. In addition to the money owed for food, various bets were placed under different customers’ names. One could open the book to their name, for example, and the total owed would be near the bottom of the page: “$13.72.” The right side of the page could read, “White Sox to win the pennant, $5.”

The place had a small grill where Parker cooked hamburgers, eggs, ham, bacon, steak, hot dogs and morning rolls. He turned the grill on in the morning with a pair of pliers. He had a tin to cook poached eggs, along with a toaster, coffee pot, small freezer, shelf for rolls and pies, and a milkshake maker. That was it. The menu remained the same; the prices remained the same. You could get a hamburger steak dinner, which included a double hamburger portion, fries, bread and butter, soup or juice for $0.65 or a small steak with the same extras for $1.25.

You had to take two napkins and throw them down on the fries before you ate them. But you only did this when Parker was facing the grill, otherwise he’d tell you to “get the hell out” if you didn’t like the food. Jack Wyrick (A&S’61) was the expert at sopping up the grease before Parker turned around.

But everyone, especially ŷ��ڱ��Ƶ athletes and fans, went to Parker’s. His coffee was good, his prices were cheap and, of course, you could eat on credit.

The last time I ate at Parker’s was the summer of 1960. Sadly John died suddenly in January 1962 and Parker’s was no more.

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Photo courtesy Carnegie Library for Local History

In the late 1950s, a tiny diner on The Hill called the Pied Piper was a hangout for ŷ��ڱ��Ƶ students.

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Fall 2023

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Hill Eats

Anonymous — Sat, 01 Feb 2020 07:00:00 +0000

Hill Eats Anonymous (not verified) Sat, 02/01/2020 - 00:00

Look: Eateries

The restaurant lineup on The Hill changes nearly as fast as the ŷ��ڱ��Ƶ seasons. While several well-known chains have come and gone in recent years (Qdoba, Five Guys, Del Taco), many Boulder icons (The Sink) and newer staples (The Corner) serve on. Whether it’s a Cosmo’s cheese slice dunked in spicy ranch, a Half Fast Godfather sub or the early-bird breakfast at Dot’s Diner, the grub on The Hill plays a part in many ŷ��ڱ��Ƶ stories. What was your Hill go-to? Write us at editor@colorado.edu.

Photos by Matt Tyrie

The restaurant lineup on The Hill changes nearly as fast as the ŷ��ڱ��Ƶ seasons.

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Winter 2020

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How Tulagi Got Its Start

Anonymous — Tue, 01 Oct 2019 06:00:00 +0000

How Tulagi Got Its Start Anonymous (not verified) Tue, 10/01/2019 - 00:00

Christie Sounart

The Tule

During winter break 1971, around Christmas, a disheveled band took the Tulagi’s stage on The Hill. The heater was broken, the club was frigid, the crowd was small. One of the musicians strummed a banjo in gloves.

G. Brown (Jour’79), then a ŷ��ڱ��Ƶ freshman, (legally) served 3.2 Coors beer from the bar and listened skeptically.

“I remember them saying, ‘We’re going to be the biggest band in the world,’” said Brown, now executive director of the nonprofit ŷ��ڱ��Ƶ Music Experience. “I was thinking, ‘What are you talking about? There’s 30 people here.’”

Less than a year later, the band toured the country with “Take It Easy.”

“The Eagles were off to the races to become the biggest American band of the 1970s,” said Brown.

In its 1970s heyday, Tulagi, located at 1129 13th St., hosted star acts, including the Doobie Brothers, Linda Ronstadt and ZZ Top.

“Bonnie Raitt was the only artist to help me clean up,” said Brown. “She picked up a broom.”

Founded in the 1940s, it was first located in what is now the Fox Theater, according to Boulder’s Daily Camera. In 1948, the owners changed the name to Tulagi, after one of the Solomon Islands. (A tropical painted mural served as the stage backdrop for the venue’s entirety.) The club moved next door in 1951.

“We did quite a bit of dancing at the Tule, ’cause it had a nice dance floor,” said Larry Knadle (Bus’60).

In 1969, Sink owner Herb Kauvar took over Tulagi, said his son Rick Kauvar (EPOBio’75). Music promoter Chuck Morris brought in the famed 1970s performers.

After Morris left to open his own nightclub, Tulagi struggled, Rick Kauvar said. In 1973, Herb sold it to three men who defaulted on the lease, and the club changed hands again.

And again.

Still, Tulagi endured into the early 2000s, hosting acts like Big Head Todd & the Monsters and The Samples.

Anne Thurman (Mktg’87) met her husband of more than 30 years there.

“It was April 1987 … Bahama-Mama Tuesday,” she said, recalling that David Thurman (Fin’87) called her by the wrong name after their initial introduction. “He was calling me a couple days later asking for a date. Luckily, he then remembered my name is ‘Anne.’”

The end came in 2003, when state tax agents seized Tulagi, according to the Camera. The Fox Theater bought the business. The building’s owners converted it into commercial rental space. Today it’s occupied by a yoga studio and a pizza parlor.

The Tulagi sign, in its slanting script, remains — a reminder of good times past.

Photo courtesy William Wardwell

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Riot of '71

Anonymous — Thu, 01 Mar 2018 07:00:00 +0000

Riot of '71 Anonymous (not verified) Thu, 03/01/2018 - 00:00

Paul Danish

It was the worst Hill riot ever.

It lasted three days.

Three police cars were overturned.

Jones Drug lost $23,000 in merchandise to looters.

The ŷ��ڱ��Ƶ Bookstore sustained $25,000 in losses. It bricked up its signature two-story windows rather than replace them.

Cops in riot gear cleared the streets with tear gas — twice.

There were so many arrests a tent jail had to be set up.

The spark was struck Thursday, May 20, 1971.

Boulder police executed a version of what today is called broken-window policing — arresting 30 street people (aka transients, hippies and freaks in the parlance of the day) on mostly minor charges like blocking sidewalks, disorderly conduct, jaywalking and talking dirty in public (yeah, you could get arrested for that back then).

On Friday, May 21, a large crowd congregated on The Hill, “angry and looking for trouble,” leading Hill merchants to call the cops.

Fourteen more arrests ensued.

A larger, angrier crowd gathered Saturday night.

Dennis Dube (Jour’71), who covered the riot for a local magazine from a nearby rooftop, reported that around 9:30 p.m. about 50 people surged across College Ave. from the Charcoal Chef toward five cops alongside the Hilltop Building, where the police had a new substation, “with one freak running full speed across College and round-housing an officer in the face.”

Things deteriorated fast from there.

By 10:45 p.m. the police gave up trying to control the crowd, which had grown to 600, and retreated to 13th and Euclid as rocks, beer bottles, taunts and fists flew.

From 10:45 to 11:30 p.m. the rioters “systematically trashed The Hill,” especially targeting the businesses most hostile to street people.

Looters raced across Broadway to hide their loot under campus shrubbery, and cops lay in wait to nab them.

At 11:30 p.m. police in riot gear and gas masks marched down 13th Street from Euclid drenching The Hill with tear gas.

Sunday night a crowd of about 300 returned to The Hill for another round. This time 140 police officers fired tear gas and repeatedly charged the rioters, who dispersed into the surrounding residential neighborhoods, where clashes continued for the next four hours. It wasn’t totally over until Tuesday, May 25.

Hardly any ŷ��ڱ��Ƶ students were involved.

The thing about the riot that made the most lasting impression on me was the bricking up of the ŷ��ڱ��Ƶ Bookstore. To this day I still feel pangs about that when I walk past the building, which is now a Walgreens. For me it’s an epitaph for the counterculture.

Since 1971, the riot has faded from memory, even legend. Chances are most alumni have never heard of it. The Hill has reinvented itself two or three times (and is currently doing it again). The businesses change. Continuity comes from the customers who, thanks to the time machine across the street, remain forever young.

Photo from 1972 Coloradan yearbook

It was the worst Hill riot ever.

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A Houseful of Tepleys

Anonymous — Fri, 01 Dec 2017 18:53:00 +0000

A Houseful of Tepleys Anonymous (not verified) Fri, 12/01/2017 - 11:53

Eric Gershon

The plaque at 1145 Grandview Ave. went up in the mid-1990s. “Tepley House,” it declares. “C. 1907.”

Yet for years after the old home on The Hill became a Boulder landmark, and for some time before, the only way Bill Tepley (Pharm’87) could get inside was to knock, introduce himself and ask to poke around for old times’ sake.

Access is simpler now: In August, his younger daughter, Grace Tepley (IntlAf’18), moved into the turreted Queen Anne-style home, just off Broadway — extending the family streak to four successive generations of Tepleys in residence while attending ŷ��ڱ��Ƶ Boulder.

“Grace is in one of the rooms I stayed in,” said Bill, 57, a Denver pharmacist with a fondness for hats and a gig as the bassist in a cover band called The Vinyls.

Grace’s sister, Savannah Tepley (MechEngr’15), passed on an earlier chance to advance the streak, making a practical decision to live by the engineering center — clear across campus — where most of her classes met.

If the streak itself is remarkable, so is the story of its start.

The American dream, manifest.

Early in the 20th century, Bill Tepley’s paternal grandparents, Katherine (Hist’30; MA’32) and Leo (MD1917) Teplitzky, fled Russia for New York after their release — in Leo’s case, escape — from the Siberian lockup where they’d been political prisoners, according to family lore and research. Katherine’s offense: Teaching peasants to read. Leo’s: “backing the wrong horse,” Bill said.

The couple came to Boulder, changed their name and worked as custodians in ŷ��ڱ��Ƶ’s stables. Leo helped lay sidewalks.

Leo eventually worked his way into medical school and became a psychiatrist. He and Katherine migrated to Denver and had three children, including Bill’s father, Eugene (A&S’36; Law’39), a future ŷ��ڱ��Ƶ gymnast specializing in the flying rings, a lawyer and a political candidate.

The Grandview house entered the picture after the Tepleys’ marriage foundered. In 1924 Katherine and the children moved back to Boulder and into No. 1145.

The kids all went on to study at ŷ��ڱ��Ƶ — as did Katherine, who attended alongside daughter Victoria. Katherine earned two degrees in history, then taught at ŷ��ڱ��Ƶ and the University of Denver.

“She was what I would call a progressive woman,” Bill said of his grandmother, whom he never knew. “Education was important to her. She went to prison twice over it [in Russia].”

The house remained in the family long enough for Bill to live there in the 1970s and ’80s. He and friends paid his parents, who managed the house as a rental property, about $60 each per month. Nine of 15 Tepley Buffs lived there at some point.

Bill’s parents came to Boulder for home football games, usually dropping off food for their renters and sometimes doing their laundry. Over the years, Bill helped his father replace the house’s plumbing and insulation. They repainted it top to bottom.

In 1988, as Bill’s parents entered old age, the family sold the home.

After the city landmarked the house — the plaque honors the architecture, the Tepleys and also former occupant Wiley B. Rutledge (Law’22), ŷ��ڱ��Ƶ’s first alumnus on the U.S. Supreme Court — Bill would double park while friends hopped out to take a look.

Decades went by.

In fall 2015, Grace Tepley, then a sophomore, made her move to resume the streak.

She strode to the door of 1145, introduced herself and asked for the landlord’s number. She called, only to learn the house had already been leased for the next year.

But the landlord, who’d bought the house from the Tepleys, gave Grace first dibs for 2017. All she’d have to do was round up roommates.

Once she had — and not before — the aspiring lawyer, now 22, gave her dad the good news.

“I knew he’d call our entire family,” she said. “I didn’t want it to fall through.”

Bill sees 1145 Grandview as a symbol, not just of his own family.

“In a time where people are saying, ‘Immigrants, we don’t need ’em,’ you look at my family, they came here with no language and no skills and had to change their names to get jobs — and yet they turn into the American dream,” he said. “It all goes through that house.”

Photo by Glenn Asakawa

One house on The Hill. One family. Four generations of Buffs.

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Letters – Winter 2013

Anonymous — Sun, 01 Dec 2013 07:00:00 +0000

Letters – Winter 2013 Anonymous (not verified) Sun, 12/01/2013 - 00:00

History Repeats

I always enjoy Paul Danish’s (Hist’65) columns, especially since we were students at the same time and remember the same things. Paul wrote about this year’s Sink party, noting, “No bouncer came through the revelers [at The Sink] with a nightstick in hand and a keg on a dolly shouting, ‘Watch your feet.’”

Actually, I remember they came through shouting, “Make a hole. Lady with a baby.” I marveled that, as a freshman in 1959, I could go to The Sink and legally order a beer. I was on a budget of $10 a week, which had to cover snacks, laundry and Sunday dinner, so I could only afford one beer and never a famous Sinkburger. Several years later, I did have one, and it was as good as it looked and smelled.

James Mulholland (Geol’64)
Denver

I’m John and Paulie Pudlik’s daughter, and I grew up on The Hill during the idyllic 1950s. The Sink was my home away from home. Paul Danish’s (Hist’65) article was lovely but not quite accurate. I’d like to make some corrections.

My parents didn’t buy The Sink until 1949 at the age of 31. The 3.2 beer license was obtained in ’51 or ’52 and was almost as hard to get as finding diamonds in Boulder Creek. Boulder politicians were always comparing 3.2 beer with the downfall of morality in Boulder. OMG women were drinking after the war! And then bang... we were in Korea.

Students then tended to be older by a few years and mature. The fountain wasn’t “sunken” but raised about 8 inches in the middle of the long dining room. I loved playing in it, turning it on and off and reaching through the beautiful wrought iron grill that surrounded it to pick coins out of the bottom of the small pool.

Mark Heinritz and his group have done an outstanding job of restoring The Sink and are to be thanked. I look forward to dropping in and saying aloha every time I am in Boulder. Know what I miss most? Shredded cheddar on those Sinkburgers.

When the Coors distributor cut a deal with Tulagi not to sell 3.2 beer to my dad, The Sink outsold Tulagi in barrels (kegs) per week while serving Carlings Red Cap Ale. That turned more than a few heads. It made my folks pretty happy, I can tell you that.

Herb and his group took over The Sink when they purchased it in 1957. Know why my dad sold? We went to Los Angeles one summer because he had heard about a McDonald’s drive-in that sold 10 cent hamburgers and nickel coffee. He knew he couldn’t compete with that so he got out of the business. He went on to be elected a city councilman, developed Olympic Lanes and of course built Pudlik’s Liquor. He died suddenly of sleep apnea at the age of 49.

So many wonderful students worked for my parents during that time. I remember many and as I get older, I realize what a lucky young girl I was to grow up in that era on The Hill and at The Sink.

Carolyn Pudlik Segawa (A&S’67)
Honolulu

Thank you for the history of The Sink. I worked there as a waitress my freshman year, 1948-49.

It’s fun to remember my other part-time jobs! My sophomore year I was a switchboard operator in the dorm and during my senior year I was a typist in the social studies department. I recall the early days of the Conference on World Affairs. In that Cold War era, the ambassador from Yugoslavia was introduced very briefly: “All I’ll say about this man is that he’s a Communist.”

In those times of jukebox music, a philosophy professor protested the sound at the student union by arranging to be able to put in a dime for a few minutes of silence.

I can remember babysitting for humanities professor James Sandoe. From him I learned about the Oregon Shakespeare Festival in Ashland. He often performed there during the summer. Later in life I moved to Redding, Calif., 150 miles south of Ashland. I immediately made plans to see the plays there. We saw Hamlet, directed by Robert Loper (Jour’48, MA’51), my speech teacher from ŷ��ڱ��Ƶ-Boulder.

When I retired from teaching, I moved from California to northern ŷ��ڱ��Ƶ. The Boulder campus and Chautauqua Park were on my list of sights to show out-of-state visitors. A photo opp with the Flatirons in the background was a standard feature of the tour.

All those memories warm my heart. Sorry I will miss my 60th class reunion in October.

Jacqueline Huskey Hanford (DistSt’53)
Sebastopol, Calif.

A Boulder Legend

Thank you for your tribute to Virginia Wheeler Patterson (Jour’46) [March 2013 edition]. It brought back great memories of my associations with “Gingy.” We entered ŷ��ڱ��Ƶ as freshmen in the fall of 1942 — the War Years — and we both graduated in the spring of 1946.

During those four years, our paths crossed many times, but the most memorable time came when we were part of a group who accomplished a “first” at the university. Virginia was the editor of the Silver & Gold newspaper in 1945, my best friend Betty Rich (Jour’46) was her assistant editor and I was vice president of Panhellenic. The three of us were enthusiastic and active members of a coalition to elect the first woman president of the ASŷ��ڱ��Ƶ [the student government organization]. And we did! Marcia Strong Golladay (Geog’44) was our candidate and she won in a hard-fought race. Gingy was always a mover and even though we were in different sororities and different schools (she was in journalism and I was in music), our paths crossed several times. Her enthusiasm and creative thinking made her a leader in our class, and she went on to share her many talents with the city of Boulder. Lucky for Boulder!

Anna Mae Strain Everett (Mus’46)
Fort Collins, Colo.

Tulagi Memories

I just received my alumni magazine and I love how my picture of Tulagi turned out! Many thanks for using it!

Major mojo to all of you in Boulder with the awful flooding going on. Nothing like that ever happened when I was there, and I hope nothing like it ever happens again.

Do you know if the Red Lion in Boulder Canyon survived? It was one of my favorite places to eat, but I doubt it survived the flood waters.

Bill Wardwell (A&S ‘68)
San Mateo, Calif.

[Editor’s Note: The Red Lion survived! Read Paul Danish’s (Hist’65) column on page 8.]

Great memories from “The Tule!” Loved the cheesy South Seas mural. Did “the Dog” there a lot as I recall (for shame) to Louie Louie. Full disclosure: I had one of their small glasses (real glass!) that came with the pitchers for years in our kitchen glass collection. I should have saved it instead of using it to the breaking point.

Dick Field (Fren’72,MPubAd’74)
Aurora, Colo.

Thank you for the Tulagi picture [September Coloradan pg. 66-67]. Those of us who were young then remember that the place was named by the owner who was a father of a soldier killed on the Pacific island of Tulagi during World War II. I always felt there should be a plaque commemorating the loss.

Janine Calmettes Brittin (A&S’65)
Boulder, Colo.

Sense of Place

I live in Lyons and just got my issue of the Coloradan. Others might have already pointed this out to you, but your Editor’s Note was eerily timed and extremely emotional for me right now. I think this disaster has shown people just how important a community — the town and the neighbors — is in their lives.

Anyway, I just thought I’d say something! Thanks for putting out a great publication for alumni.

Deb Cain Melani (Jour’89)
Lyons, Colo.

Photos by The Sink

Thoughts and reactions from our readers.

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Hope You're Not Over the Hill

Anonymous — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 07:00:00 +0000

Hope You're Not Over the Hill Anonymous (not verified) Thu, 12/01/2011 - 00:00

Lofts on The Hill on 13th Street, even with some letters missing on its sign, is a dramatic departure for The Hill, as it has commercial space (burger chain Five Guys) on the ground floor and residential units above.

For decades The Hill has been the place for students to buy coffee, record albums or a burger. The Sink, formerly Sunken Gardens and Herbie’s Deli, has managed to outlive every business on the strip. While Tulagi’s doors shuttered, the Tulagi sign remains.

This year marked significant changes on The Hill, as a community group charted a long-term vision for The Hill while developers poured millions into building mixed residential/commercial buildings.

Here’s a look at your favorite haunts. As the saying goes, the more things change, the more they, well, you know where we’re going with this.

Still spinning vinyl Albums on the Hill lives. While almost every other music store in town has folded, this quirky shop, founded in 1973, sells concert tickets, CDs and yes, vinyl albums. And, of course, the legendary Fox Theatre, opened in 1991, still attracts great musicians to its stage. The space has been an entertainment venue since 1924.

Movies to Mary Jane? Dates at the beloved Flatiron Theatre spawned countless romances. Today it is home to Medicine on the Hill, one of many medical marijuana dispensaries in Boulder since voters legalized the drug for medicinal purposes in November 2000.

Living a lofty life style The Lofts on College at 14th and College replaced Jones Drug and General Store this year. Silver & Gold barber shop, College Optical and a restaurant will occupy the first floor. The Lofts on The Hill sit, in part, above where the former clothing company Kingsley & Co. was.

Where can I get a cup of joe?

Cafe Roma, founded in 1985, 13th and College
Buchanan’s Coffee Pub, founded in 1995, Pennsylvania and Broadway
Starbucks, University and Broadway
Innisfree Poetry Bookstore & Café, founded in 2010, 13th and Pennsylvania

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Legendary Jones General Store Shutters

Anonymous — Wed, 01 Dec 2010 07:00:00 +0000

Legendary Jones General Store Shutters Anonymous (not verified) Wed, 12/01/2010 - 00:00

David Smithey, a sophomore dance major, does a back handspring in front of Jones General Store & Camera as part of a tribute to the store that closed Sept. 30.

After 108 years of serving loyal customers in Boulder, Jones General Store & Camera closed Sept. 30. The store at 14th and College shuttered its doors to make way for two new mixed-use buildings.

Jones owners, brothers Louie Moschetti, who has worked there for 40 years, and Roxy Moschetti, were saddened by the store’s closing but appreciated the community support, including petitions with several thousand signatures asking that it stay open. On the store’s final day the 91-year-old founder of the Silver & Gold Barber & Stylist stopped in with a cake and home-cooked meals. And students gathered to express their gratitude for the store, including a dance fusion class that gave an impromptu performance.

“It means we ran a business that was important to the area,” Louie Moschetti told the Boulder Camera.

Neighboring businesses moved elsewhere. The Fitter moved to the lower end of the Hill at 1303 Broadway, and the Silver & Gold Barber & Stylist temporarily relocated next to The Sink.

Photo courtesy Mark Leffingwell/Daily Camera

After 108 years of serving loyal customers in Boulder, Jones General Store & Camera closed Sept. 30.

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The Hill

John Parker

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Hill Eats

Look: Eateries

Related Articles

How Tulagi Got Its Start

The Tule

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Riot of '71

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A Houseful of Tepleys

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Letters – Winter 2013

History Repeats

A Boulder Legend

Tulagi Memories

Sense of Place

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Hope You're Not Over the Hill

Where can I get a cup of joe?

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Legendary Jones General Store Shutters

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