More random Bojon thoughts

First off, I’ve been beyond lazy and I haven’t written anything lately.  Amazingly, I’m getting responses from relatives and friends and it made me realize that while this is therapy for me, it may be entertaining for others.  Sister Rosaria once asked me if I was a comedian.  Man, why didn’t I see the light and take that as career advice?

OK.  I’ve been churning this one in my semi-functioning brain for weeks, and I believe I’m ready to offend the appropriate people. 


For those of you that don’t see any daily news from Pueblo, there are some people that would like to see Bojon Town placed on the Superfund List to clean up lead and arsenic left over from the smelter days 100 years ago.  They are actually worried about property values more than health, but hey, a good cause is a good cause.  Bojon Town isn’t a toxic waste dump.  Christ, if they’re worried about dust from Bojon Town, who’s looking into the hellhole that’s 1 block to the south, namely the Steel Mill.  If they ever start digging that place up, they better have a hole as big as the Grand Canyon to bury that sludge.  So, what’s a little bit of slag dust compared to that?  Hell, we played in the slag dumps when we were kids.  We picked it up, we threw it at each other, we carried it home in our pockets and kept the cool pieces in our rooms.  It didn’t kill us, but it kind of makes me wonder about what it really did to us.  But all that aside………


It’s BOJON TOWN.  Please never refer to it as Eiler Heights in my presence.  It will be so uncomfortable when I have to apologize for slapping the taste out of your mouth.


My Grandma Steffie passed away a few weeks ago.  She was an amazing lady.  I’ve been thinking about her a lot, and I’m realizing what a great sense of humor she had.  I think I got a lot of mine from her.  She loved to laugh, and she loved to make people laugh even more.  I didn’t get to see her much these last 10 years, and I’ll always regret that, but I have some great memories.  That block was basically Anzickville when I was a kid.  Great Grandpa and Grandma Anzick, Cheech and Mary in that little back house with no plumbing, Aunt Francis and Uncle Steve, Grandma Steffie and Grandpa Charlie, Uncle Tony.  For a while, Uncle Rudy.  A very cool place to hang around.  You’d get fed, you’d get a butterscotch candy from Grandpa Anzick, maybe pick up a few cents pulling weeds or washing a car.  Always something going on down there.  Now they’re all gone.  Every one of them.  So sad.


When we went to the funeral, I took my wife and daughter to the old ‘baseball field’ in the parking lot behind the church.  A few of you remember.  The old ashpit was the backstop.  The bases were white squares painted on the pavement.  From Center Field to the Right Field line was kind of out of bounds, because you’d hit the church or the nun’s house.  And that was not good.  The only place to really hit was left field.  You could actually hit one about 3 blocks to Santa Fe if you got some good roll.  Every kid that played there was a pull hitter.  There was a set of power lines that went across left field, and if you could hit one over those wires, you were a stud.  I got a few over.  There was a girl that played with us.  She was really cool, and she could hit it over those wires a lot.  One time, I was pitching and she hit me in the stomach with a line drive.  It was the first time I’d ever gotten the wind knocked out of me.  I still remember the concern on her face as she watched me gasp for air like a carp out of water.  Hi Judy Kochever!!!!!


Fourth of July was always a riot when we were kids.  This was back in the day when you could blow stuff up and not get in too much trouble.  M80s, Black Cats, Cherry Bombs and pop bottle rockets were the weapons of choice.  Literally.  One year, Whitey Cvar’s dad made him a pistol grip bottle rocket launcher.  It had a pipe, a shield, and a handle.  You’d put the bottle rocket in the pipe, aim it like a gun, and watch the fun begin.  They flew a bit crazy, so you never knew what was going to happen.  One day, we were hiding in the alley on Arroya and Bohmen, and we were shooting bottle rockets onto Al Lamb’s front porch.  His wife was loud and loved to get us in trouble, so they were always a good target.  So, we launch a few on the porch, one goes in the bushes in front, and here comes Al.  He’s standing on his porch hollering and threatening us, but he doesn’t know where we are.  Whitey was bold though.  He loads up a rocket, lights the fuse, and points the gun at Al.  We’re like 150 feet away.  Those rockets never flew straight.  This one did.  I can still see it in slow motion.  It goes as straight as a string, 150 feet, hits Al right in the chest, bounces off and lets off this pathetic little pop that sounded like a dog fart.  It was so incredible that we just stood there, admiring the moment.  One bad thing, Al saw it coming and in a matter of seconds, that old man is charging across the yard, heading right for our hiding place. Man, I never ran so fast.  It was one of those moments when you knew you couldn’t outrun him, so my goal was to run faster than Whitey.  And I did.  And he got caught.  And even though Al knew I was the other guy, Whitey never gave me up.  Bojons don’t roll on other Bojons!  I still caught the mandatory asswhipping at home, but it wasn’t because Whitey was a snitch.


And now for something completely random.  Since moving to Cripple Creek, my life has been a waking nightmare.  I’m 10 years from retirement, and a mediocre one at that.  I can make it until then.  Or…….I can make a bold move, one that has a bit of risk and a major chance of reward.  If it doesn’t work, I still have my crappy retirement.  Stay tuned. 


My doctor told me when I was 30 that I would be walking with a cane by the time I was 55.  I bought a cane for my 57th birthday.  I finally had to use it a few times last week.  The laugh is on you, Dr. Hamill.  I beat it by 2 years!  And there are benefits to carrying a cane at work.  People seldom get close to an angry man with a stick.  I need to find a cool cane though.  This is one of those generic pieces of metal tubing, and it’s just not cool.  I’m thinking possibly racing stripes or flames.  And look out when I finally get my Rascal.  Not the generic one.  Definitely black with a nice flame paint job and wide tires.  Possibly some Texas Longhorn horns on the front. 


I miss my kids.  I miss my grandkids. 


Got to talk to Tom Mutz after my Grandma’s funeral.  Tom is a good guy.  When he was a kid, he was always the one to do the right thing.  I don’t think he ever got into trouble.  He was a good athlete, but he was so nice that he’d apologize after running you over in a football game.  Small wonder that he ended up being connected to the church.  And I never knew he could sing that well.  He sang at my Grandma’s funeral and he was really good.


On that topic, there are so many people I’d like to see.  Here’s a small list.  Not even close to complete, but it’s a start and maybe I’ll make it a regular feature.  So, here’s a hello and a wish that we could all get together for reminiscing.

Terry Yoxey (some day, when I get bold, I may post a story about me, Terry, a slightly stolen car, a BB gun, and a twelve pack of Walter’s Beer.  Not that exciting, but it was when we were 12!!!)

Judy Kochever (See above story about girl crushing softball with bat)

Dave, Paul, and Susan Zobeck, 3 members of one of the coolest families from Bojon Town

Bobby Koshak, my fellow Bojon outsider

Billy Mramor, one of those people that you just knew would grow up to be a good guy

Jimmy Zunick, another Bohmen Avenue running mate.  Sorriest day of my childhood was when Jimmy moved away

Doreen Drobnick.  I didn’t really know what a free spirit was in the 2nd grade, but I knew Doreen was one.  We just didn’t have a name at that time for someone that cool.

Flip and his brother Harpo,  Wow.  How did we get away with it.  Every time.  You guys are insane.

Leo Anzick  (At St. Mary’s School, you didn’t get to dress up for Halloween.  You dressed up the next day for All Saints Day.  You had to dress as a religious character that was kind of associated with your name.  One year, Leo came as Lucifer.  That’s what I call thinking outside of the box.  During the class field trip to Denver when Leo was in the 8th grade, he ran away and when they found him he said he was going to join a nudist colony.  He’s still my hero, and he had balls the size of a large moose)


Till next time.


12 responses to this post.

  1. loving your blog…keep the tales of bojontown coming…..eiler heights is a laugh!!


    • Hi Mitzie, It’s good to hear from you. I was just talking to someone about your dad the other day. I still remember sitting in the filling station, talking to him after one of his walks.


  2. Posted by Abe Armendariz on July 4, 2013 at 6:01 pm

    Bottle rockets must be a genetic weapon of choice. Jeff and I were talking about Mikey and “Howard chasers” today. Can’t wait to see you again.


    • I think I can come up with a decent set of plans, Abe. I’m trying to get a Saturday off this summer, which is a joke because today is my 51st day in a row without a day off. If I do, we’re planning on meeting up with your mom and maybe your sisters and Mikey and Nicole and going to the horse races. You can get some private handicapping lessons from your old uncle. Free tip #1 for Arapahoe Park. If the horse is from Kansas, look really good for the strap marks where they hooked him up to the plow.


  3. Posted by Scott Massey on July 9, 2013 at 12:44 am

    My Great Grandpa made a cane out of copper pipe a 90 elbow a brass plug on the end and the rubber piece off a regular cane on the bottom. He was German but I’m sure there was some Bojon somewhere after seeing his cane. This might just be the cane you’re looking for.


  4. Posted by M lamb on September 21, 2014 at 7:30 pm

    My dad could run…..didn’t know you were involved….great story!


    • Mike, he definitely ran that day! I was so scared that i hid in my house for about 2 days. I’ve got some stories coming that involve your brother Ivan. We had some good times together. He was a year younger than me, but we still hung around quite a bit back at St. Mary’s.


  5. Posted by M lamb on September 21, 2014 at 9:55 pm

    I’ll stay tuned….


  6. How I am missing these older posts I just don’t know! Ah, the memories are filling my mind. We had the bets neighborhood ever! Kids everywhere and wonderful parents.I always thought the Lamb’s had such a beautiful house I can picture AL chasing you and WHitey down the street. Ah the days of youth!


  7. Posted by Paul Prijatel, Jr. on May 14, 2015 at 7:14 pm

    Thanks for the memories of Bojon Town. You’re sister Julie took care of me at Parkview. Good lady. Dovidjenja. aka little paul


    • Thanks for coming by, Paul! My sister is amazing. I’m so proud of her. Are you related to the Prijatel family that lived in the 1100 block of Eilers?


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