Random Thoughts

I took a ride through Bojon Town today.   As I got part of the way down Santa Fe Hill I saw a huge bird walking across the road.   At first I thought it was a peacock, but when I got closer, it was a turkey.  It was on the west side of Santa Fe, about 40 yards from the stop light at Santa Fe Drive.  I have a hunch that there are more of them down there.  I’m going to take a hike down there soon and take a look.



He’s just to the right of the electrical box.  Proof that turkeys live in Bojon Town.


I saw a few signs that were promoting the ‘Bojon Town Frolic’ this coming Saturday.  I believe it involves a running race up Santa Fe hill and some other things.  It is good to see those words being used.  When we were kids, we hardly waited for the St. Mary’s ‘Frolic’, as they used to call it.  Best hamburgers in the history of hamburgers, games for kids, and all around Bojon fun with a few of the old guys like John Pauchek playing the accordion and a lot of polka dancing.  I’m not sure what this new Bojon Town Frolic will be like, but given that it’s not called the ‘Eilers Heights Summer Soiree’, it should be good.


I mentioned the crappy condition of some of the houses in Bojon Town in my last post.  One of the main reasons is obvious to me.  The owners got old and died.  They left it to their kids, who now lived in Regency and University Park.  The kids wanted nothing to do with it, so either sold it to someone that rented it out, or they rented it themselves.  The original owners loved their houses and yards, and invested a lifetime in them.  The new owners?  Not so much.  But there are exceptions.  My nephew and his girlfriend bought my Great Grandpa Anzick’s house, and it looks better than it has in years.  I think that the neighborhood is going to go through some changes in the next decade.  With this EPA crap hanging over people and their property, I think you may see some people picking up some really cheap houses and fixing them up.  I hope that is the case.  The place could use some sprucing up.


My wife had a flat tire on her bike a few weeks ago.  I just bought a tube and put it in.  When I was a kid, I had bike tubes that had more patches than tube.  I remember my Uncle Dan letting me use the tire patching stuff in the garage.  If I paid for every patch that he and my Grandpa Bear gave me, I’d still owe them money.  I kind of had to laugh at how lazy I’ve become.  I never even bothered to look at the old tube.  Speaking of bikes, how many of you had motors on your bicycles?   And by motors, I mean a clothes pin with a playing card or a balloon pinned to the bike so that the spokes hit it every time the wheel spun.  I think that most of the noise that you heard in Bojon Town in the summer came from some kid with a playing card slapping the spokes on their bike tires.  And how many of us rode on the handlebars of a bike that someone else was riding?  Or standing on the back axle bolts?  That was a common mode of transportation, and an even more common cause of childhood injuries in Bojon Town.  I remember standing on the back axle bolts of Tommy Pechek’s bike and he hit a bad spot in the sidewalk and my foot went in the spokes.  It almost ripped off my toes, and the bike went from 10 miles per hour to stopped in a flash.  We had a lot of bike accidents.  And guess how many of us wore a helmet?


On the east side of Santa Fe Hill, there are probably 15 houses, starting at Tezak Street by Cernac’s Blacksmith Shop and ending down by the entrance to Chicken Village.  The sidewalks in front of the houses were cracked and broken, raised and sunken, and every variation in between.  I rode a skateboard from the top to the bottom without falling off.  I attempted it at least 200 times and I made it once.  Bojons are persistent, though our knees and elbows don’t always appreciate how persistent we are.  I remember Pigeon Golob lived pretty close to the bottom, and he’d sit on his front porch and watch us and laugh.  If we got close to the bottom, he’d encourage us.  The only time I made it was when he wasn’t there.  I always wished that he was there to see it.  He was such a nice man.  Come to think of it, there were a lot of nice people there.  Bojon Town.  My home forever, no matter where I live.









5 responses to this post.

  1. Oh my gosh, are you reading my mind???? LOL! I was thinking of Pigeon Golob. He was a very nice man. I was writing a post but got sidetracked. Will finish tomorrow. Do you know what was on the property where your grandpa Bears filling station and house is now? My sis was a little kid but said either a two story house or apartment and she thought maybe a fire destroyed it, unsure but thought Chico and his family lived there. I started writing my post, got frustrated trying to find info and stopped. will feel better tomorrow. A frolic, gosh haven’t heard that in ages. Those hamburgers were like crack! Wonder what magic potion they used? Real hamburger I am guessing, hee hee. A true taste of heaven. My silly son-in-law said to me, what does heaven taste like! I said be quiet, it is good! The house at 1144 S Santa Fe was built in 1955. The only FYI I could find. Nothing about previous property owner or building. Drat! Love that your relative bought the Anzick house. Aw….sweetness…..I wish I had the means I would buy the entire block of Topeka except I’d let Francie Horvat stay on her property the only Bojon left there I am guessing. These other yahoos have no pride in ownership. We could even be related to a few turkeys, you never know! Love that picture. Strange what we see around . This post was short and sweet. I am happy to see you here again. Get those relatives together, they are a wealth of info especially now that your Uncle Ray is back in town. Get those men together and video tape them. Hope all is well with you and Velma. Take care and keep writing. Tomorrow I will have a new post up. Hugs, Anne


  2. Posted by Jeanette litherland on August 19, 2015 at 11:15 pm

    Anne, there was a liquor store and a service station where the garage is now. Our Dad bought the old station and liquor store, tore it down and built the building and house on that lot. The original station and liquor store was owned by a lady named Mrs. Kapel. When she died her two sons owned it and our Dad bought it from them. The two story house you mentioned also belonged to Mrs. kapel and her daughters owned it after Mrs. kapel died. Our Dad bought it from them and tore the house down because he only wanted the lot for his use. We need to get together. We would have a lot to share about the old neighborhood. Looking forward to more posts from you and Mike!!


  3. The big 2 story house that was torn down in the 60’s was the home of my best friend at the time, Gary Gonzales. He lived there with his mom, his grandpa, and some other relatives, including his very flamboyant uncle, Georgie! They were the nicest people. They moved to California after they left that house, and I was crushed to lose my best friend. I was 6 or 7. 45 years later, I’m working at Trane and I’m walking through the plant and I bump into this big guy that I hadn’t seen there before. And it was Gary Gonzales! He moved back to Pueblo, and we got the chance to catch up on everything. I still see him around from time to time. Before my Grandpa Bear had the house demolished, he let me go in and break and smash a few things. I had this idea that the Gonzales family might have left some treasure or valuables hidden in some secret compartment. I was a pretty stupid kid. All I found in 2 days was a dog’s tooth.


    • Posted by Jeanette litherland on August 20, 2015 at 11:35 pm

      The Parents of the Gonzales kids were divorced and I think some of them lived with their mother and some with their father. When we get together I will share a story with you about their father and a few about their sister Esther. I can hardly believe you could find something as small as a dog’s tooth. When we are little we are so optimistic that we believe we might find a treasure.


  4. Your recall of names and events amazes me every time you write, and you always seem to hit an emotional or political nerve. The bike story is so true, what we did 50 years ago we would be ticketed for today. Kids on bikes look like hockey goalies and is a metaphor about how younger generations look at govt. No one should ever get bruised and there will always be someone there to pick you up, no feelings can be hurt, If you don’t learn at an early age that when you fall down you get yourself up, not wait for a helping hand(out). I can’t believe you made it all the way down that side of Santa Fe hill, I tried to ride the other side and usually bailed right where your turkey is, if you start at the top you are flying by the time you get to the telephone pole. Horse is the only one that I saw ride all the way to the bottom, but he could do anything athletic. Our boards didn’t have the suspension or the poly wheels that they have today, they were usually made from old roller skates. I’m not sure the hamburgers at the Frolic were the best I vote Anzick’s #1 and St Mary’s a close #2, I think they got better when we got to 10 or 11 as we could usually sneak a beer or 3 from someone. I tried patching tires on the kid’s bikes but the glue is worthless. Probably the EPA, they can ruin an entire river system and still try and “destroy” an historic neighborhood. Just a bunch of worthless bureaucrats trying to justify their jobs. I read some of your first posts and figured out why your stories hit me as they do, we miss the world we grew up in, where the police were their to help, when neighbors spoke to each other, when 95% of the people you met were honest, hard working and moral. When kids could be out till dark without supervision, we were mischievous not destructive, when you could poke fun at some one and not have the PC police at your door. I used to have tons of friends but I don’t think I’ve made 10 friends since I was 25, acquaintances yes but Friends? We had politicians that said what they thought (sometimes) not what the polls tell them to say, a media that investigated not a spokesman for 1 political view. I miss that world and my children deserve the same.


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