Monthly Archives: January 2019

Ed Harless and His Renegade Wife

c 2019 by Jan MacKell Collins

Portions of this article first appeared in the Colorado Gambler magazine and Brothels, Bordellos & Bad Girls: Prostitution in Colorado 1860-1930.

Pictured: Notorious Blair Street at 12th Street, Silverton, Colorado.

It was no easy trick, being married in the Victorian era. Given the harshness of the times—no electricity, back-breaking chores, a plethora of vices and procreational rather than recreational sex, it is no wonder many marriages ended in divorce. The misery doubled with the death of a child, or if either spouse was given to drinking or beating one another.

In 1899 alone, the newspapers in the booming Cripple Creek District of Colorado were rife with news of unhappy unions. That June, three women applied for divorce. In July, Joe Anderson was arrested for shooting Hense Johnson in Cripple Creek’s Poverty Gulch after the former found the latter with his wife. And in October, Victor’s postmaster reported on a letter from C.M. Jones of Butte Montana, asking for assistance. Jones had just returned from the Klondike and couldn’t find his wife.

Indeed, residents of the district were no strangers to such goings on. So when Ed Harless’ wife turned up missing in Victor, it was no real surprise to anyone except maybe Ed.

The Harless’ first appeared in Victor in 1902. Ed was a miner at the Portland Mine, residing with his bride at 321 South 4th Street. But he apparently balanced his time between Victor and Denver, where he had another home. It was probably during one of his absences that Mrs. Harless unexpectedly packed her bags and caught the next train out of town. What became of her was anyone’s guess.

Ed went looking for his wife, much as any husband might do. He found her in the western slope mining town of Silverton, and the November 29 issue of the Silverton Standard reported what happened next. Harless had arrived from Victor the day before. According to the newspaper, he had been consulting a spirit medium in Denver regarding his wife’s whereabouts. The clairvoyant informed Harless that he had to look no further than Silverton to find her.

Harless beat a path to Marshal Leonard’s door in Silverton. After a short investigation, the good marshal led Harless to a bordello on Silverton’s notorious Blair Street. Like so many before her, the price of Mrs. Harless’ freedom was to land in a strange town with no support. Prostitution was a viable way to get some cash, and the girls on the row had beckoned her in.

Leonard and Harless entered the room occupied by Mrs. Harless. As the marshal stepped to the window to let in some light, the woman let out a scream. The marshal turned in time to see the husband “drawing an ugly looking revolver”. Leonard wrestled the gun away from the angry man and promptly deposited him in the city pokey. Harless was fined $50 and costs.

A few weeks later, the Standard followed up on the story with the comment that Harless had returned to Denver to further consult the psychic. This time, Harless claimed, he would find “the Telluride assassin”. Whether his boast that he could find a western slope criminal by such means was hooey, nobody will ever know. Harless did eventually return to his home in Victor, residing there as late as 1905. As for Mrs. Harless, her name in the city directory is conspicuously absent.

The Legend of Tucker Holland

c 2019 by Jan MacKell Collins

Portions of this article are excerpted from Brothels, Bordellos & Bad Girls: Prostitution in Colorado 1860-1930.

           No doubt about it, Tucker Holland had it bad for Dolly Worling. The 24-year-old thought nothing of spending his time and money on the soiled dove of Colorado City’s red light district west of Colorado Springs. In fact, for a good six months leading up to Tucker’s death, his love for Dolly had turned from mere infatuation into downright obsession.

            It was said Tucker was a good boy, residing in Colorado Springs and holding a steady job. But the enticement of Colorado City was his undoing. Tucker and his brother Tony were frequent visitors to the red light district, and both boys had a fondness for Dolly’s house of ill fame, The Cottage.

            On the night of  January 18, 1908, Tucker and Tony were out buying sandwiches for the Cottage girls when Dolly’s ex-husband, Frank Shank, arrived. Frank was a foul mouthed bartender, but his love for Dolly was undying. The couple had been trying to reconcile for some time. Dolly’s love for Frank and Tucker had become precariously balanced, tilting in favor of Frank whenever the boisterous man darkened her door. When Tucker returned with the sandwiches, he discovered he’d been unceremoniously ousted from Dolly’s house. Employee Nettie Crawford met him at the door. Instructions to find somewhere else to sleep were accompanied by a pile of Tucker’s clothes.

            Crestfallen Tucker went away, muttering to Tony, “This is the end of me.” The following morning, the brothers were once more received at Dolly’s house. Tucker and Dolly retired to her boudoir, where Tucker sat on the bed and played with a revolver. Dolly stood at the window making light of Tucker’s intentions as she listened to him declare his love for her. Outside, a small boy on the sidewalk below was pointing his toy pistol at Dolly’s dog. Dolly joked, “See, Tucker, he’s going to shoot my poodle!”

            But Tucker Holland was in no mood for jokes. “Well, here’s another,” he replied. A second later a shot rang out as Tucker shot himself in the head.

            Dolly screamed, and the other girls rushed into the room. Dolly’s cook, Birdie Ward, took the gun from Tucker’s dying hand and laid it on the dresser. Dolly grabbed the gun and turned it on herself, exclaiming, “If he’s dead, I must die too!” Her girls succeeded in wrestling the gun away from her, and Tony summoned the police.

            When authorities arrived, they found Tucker bleeding profusely as he lay across Dolly’s bed. The pistol was on the dresser, but the police had a hard time swallowing the story of why it was there. Each occupant of the house was immediately arrested, including customer Roy Catton. Tucker was bundled off to St. Francis Hospital, where he died at 3 p.m. He never recovered sufficiently enough to make a statement.

            An inquest following the shooting included questioning of Tony Holland, Nettie Crawford and Birdie Ward, as well as prostitutes Mary Catlin and Myrtle Van Duyne. Frank Shank was questioned, but mostly spewed forth epithets for answers. Dolly also was questioned. The inquiry concluded that Tucker Holland had indeed ended his own life.

            Tucker was buried at Evergreen Cemetery, and his untimely death inspired the city authorities in Colorado City to close the brothels. The prostitutes of Colorado City were accordingly given ten days to leave town. Where Dolly Worley went is unknown, but her baggage certainly contained the memory of the boy who loved her—and lost.

“Buck Run”: Director Nick Frangione’s Film Takes Family Matters to Heart

c 2019 by Jan MacKell Collins

If you are looking for the plastic eye-candy and shallow script that is so common in today’s movies, the kind where the plot is handed to you on a silver platter, this is not your kind of movie. But if you enjoy insightful and emotional irony, symbolism and empathy, this new film from Intuition Film Productions amply provides an intelligent story about the common thread of dysfunctional families and how they deal with life.

Buck Run, in rural Pennsylvania, serves as the backdrop for the film. Director Nick Frangione has a special connection to the place; it is his hometown. It is not surprising that Buck Run is loosely based on Frangione’s own childhood experiences, which is perhaps the reason the movie is so adept at presenting a sense of place. Like so many rural towns across America, Buck Run seems stuck in a time some decades ago. The homes of the film’s two main characters, Shaw (beautifully portrayed by Nolan Lyons) and William (ably played by James Le Gros), look like someone left sometime in the late 70’s and never went back. The bleak surroundings, from snowy woods to a dreary school and a run-of-the-mill crappy flea market, provide the elements of a place which time has forgotten. Those who have visited and lived in similar towns will understand why: even in the best of economic times, not everyone in rural America has the opportunity to flourish.

Fifteen-year-old Shaw Templeton is an emotional mess that has left him in shock and unsure of what to do. After spending a day and a half with the body of his deceased mother (Amy Hargreaves), Shaw is besieged by a slew of grown-ups who discover his situation. They aren’t inclined to do much about it other than push the boy off on his estranged father William, an impoverished alcoholic who can barely take care of himself, let alone his son. This less-than-ideal scenario only isolates Shaw further; he literally has nobody else to turn to. Furthering his troubles is the stark realization that everything familiar to him—namely his loving mother and his comfortable home—is no longer there for him. Closure and love is what this gentle young buck needs, but he seemingly has no way to harness either one.

From his father’s home (look for the symbolic painting of a buck running through the woods among the messy décor), Shaw must find a way to come to terms with his lot in life. His drunk father commandeers his cell phone, disappears and reappears without warning, and is emotionally unable to show love for his son. Shaw’s mother lies at the funeral home, awaiting funeral arrangements as her son is prevented from seeing her and anguishes over her burial. School is hell, as are social settings, when bullies stalk and assault the teen. And William has borrowed five grand from his buddy John (Kevin J. O’Connor), but blew it all on something he won’t talk about. The only glimmers of hope Shaw can find are in a kindly schoolmate named Robbie (Luke Embeck) and the local cop (Jim Parrack), who apathetically chastises the teen for smoking but finally asks how he’s getting along. In the end, it is up to Shaw to fight back, take matters into his own hands however he can, and, ultimately, see redemption in his father for William’s unseen and unappreciated efforts.

In this first film by Intuition Film Productions, screenwriter David Hauslein has made a noble effort in his presentation of a family in the throes of hardship. The movie is well-cast and the performances are candid. Lyons’ Shaw Templeton is so real that you want to just take the kid in yourself and give him a warm meal and a place to sleep off his grief-ridden demeanor. Le Gros, a veteran actor known for favoring independent films, does a fine job making William the sad and broken man he is. The excellent and supporting cast includes a cameo appearance by Alicia Goranson (The Connors) as the put-upon prostitute Misty, who must pick up laundry and make sure her kids are watching the tube before tending to business. Our characters go about their humble business to the lonely musical soundtrack set by Chris Brokaw, quite fitting for an emotionally tense film such as this.

For Frangione, who studied under Sundance winning filmmaker Eric Escobar, Buck Run is his fifth effort as director and is well played. Buck Run made its world premiere earlier this month at the Palm Springs Film Festival. To see the trailer on Vimeo, go to https://vimeo.com/309736307.

Second To One: Mamie Majors, Colorado City’s (Almost) Reigning Madam

c 2019 by Jan MacKell Collins

Portions of this article have been excerpted from Brothels, Bordellos & Bad Girls: Prostitution in Colorado 1860-1930 (University of New Mexico Press, 2004).

When the Pikes Peak Gold Rush hit in 1859, the new boom created a stir all over what was then Colorado Territory. Hundreds of prospectors and merchants were making their way to the gold fields on the western slope of Colorado. The trails south of Denver included Ute Pass, an ancient Indian trail that skirted the base of Pikes Peak near today’s Colorado Springs. The beginning of the trail was marked by Colorado City, a thriving supply town that included ramshackle houses, churches, a school, hotels and saloons. The first tavern was opened in 1860 by John George.

In 1861 Colorado City was made the capitol of Colorado Territory. But the title was short-lived, and within a decade, Colorado City became the black sheep of El Paso County as the new, elite, and ostentatious city of Colorado Springs managed to win the county seat. Founded by Quaker William Jackson Palmer, Colorado Springs sought to be the “Saratoga of the West” with fancy homes and nice hotels. Liquor, and bawdy houses, were prohibited within in the city limits. It stood to reason, then, that Colorado City should excel where Colorado Springs did not. A variety of activities, from prize fighting to prostitution to drinking to dancing, went on at all hours near what is now the 2500 block of Colorado Avenue.

Through the years, the number of Colorado City saloons steadily grew, from four taverns in 1884 to twenty-three saloons in 1888, plus a number of women practicing the world’s oldest profession. By the 1890’s, these women had been relegated to Washington Avenue, known these days as Cucharras Street, located one block south of the city’s main drag.

Today, the best-known madam of Colorado City remains Laura Bell McDaniel, “Queen of the Colorado City Tenderloin”. Largely due to her reputation for running classy brothels with utmost taste, Laura Bell had little to fear from most of her competitors. Only one woman, in fact, appears to have come closest to achieving the fame and success of Laura Bell McDaniel. Her name was Mamie Majors.

Although she may have arrived in Colorado City as early as 1897, Mamie does not appear in the 1900 census, nor does she appear in city directories until about 1901. Where she had been before coming to Colorado City is unknown, but Mamie apparently brought the know-how of her profession with her. Within a short time, Mamie reigned right up alongside Laura Bell as one of the most prominent madams in town. Similarities between the women are striking indeed. Both ruled over their respective kingdoms with grace and finesse. Both madams also paid their monthly fines to the city on time, subscribed to newspapers and donated to schools, churches and other charities.

Most unfortunately, Mamie chose the most inopportune time to make her debut in Colorado City. Police chief George Birdsall, the newest addition to City Hall in 1900, was making it his business to crack down on gambling, drinking and prostitution. Upon taking his station, Birdsall found the shady ladies of Colorado City were running amuck, with more and more girls showing up to ply their trade.

The year 1901 found Mamie rooming with several other women at 615 Washington Avenue, a brothel owned and operated by Nellie White. Prostitutes within the house included musician Nellie Thomas, and prostitutes Millie Arnold, Edith Baker, Laura Smith, Zoe Wallace and Fredy Bowers. An African-American cook, Lou Riley or Reilly, kept the girls well-nourished.

Lou remained as an employee of both Mamie and Nellie White through 1903. The two madams seem to have run the brothel together and were destined to maintain a business relationship for many years-even after Mamie opened her own brothel in 1902. The new place, at 617 South 6th Street, was smaller. Mamie’s employees there were Katie Stephens and Emma West. Shortly after the move, Nellie White’s brothel burned and she moved back in with Mamie. 

By 1903, Mamie and Nellie’s business was blooming. Emma West remained an employee, alongside prostitutes Blanche Freeman and Mary Stevens. Two musicians, James Tennison and William Robison, played regularly for the house. Emma Jones worked as a cook. Nellie remained with Mamie through June of 1903, when she  was taken to court for prostitution. In a rare show of mercy, the court dismissed her case. And, a subsequent $50 fine for Mamie hardly phased the illustrious madam.

Mamie’s brothel teemed with success even after she moved to 617 Washington. Mamie had purchased the brothel from Laura White, another prominent madam. When Mamie Majors took over, the place became known as The White Elephant and The Mansions – the latter being the same name Laura Bell McDaniels had used for her own elegant parlor house. Did the twosome partner up? Possibly, since Mamie and Laura Bell remained neighbors for the rest of their time in Colorado City.

By June of 1905, Colorado City authorities had enough. City officials were no longer satisfied with the monthly “bribes” the madams paid, and raided the red-light district. Mamie Majors was targeted and arrested on June 22, along with madams Annie Wilson and Mamie Swift. Saloon owners Byron Hames and Otto Fehringer came to the rescue, posting a $1500 bond for the three women.

Charges were levied against all three women, but it was Mamie Majors whom city authorities sought to make an example. Her case came up on July 17 and caused quite a stir in Colorado City. The wealthy madam lost little time in hiring not one, but three attorneys to handle her case: former Cripple Creek judge Samuel Kinsley, Arthur Cornforth and William D. Lombard, whose clients included Laura Bell McDaniel. No doubt Mamie had every confidence in the world when she reappeared in court with the three attorneys on her arm.

In fact, Mamie’s antics seem to have been quite bold, for even while she was awaiting trial, her business continued at 617 Washington. But despite Mamie’s pleas in court and testimony of her many good deeds, the District Attorney painted a picture of a destitute, hardened and horrible woman who was getting what she deserved. Ultimately, Mamie was found guilty, but the determined madam was undaunted and used every power she had to fight the charge. A motion for a new trial was filed on July 31.

Unfortunately for Mamie, the cards were stacked against her. Witnesses for the prosecution consisted of Police Chief Birdsall, city detective John Rowan, Police Magistrate and former mayor J.D. Faulkner, and police officers Leroy Gilliland and Ed Rettinger. Also called to testify against Mamie were Anna Rook, who had worked for Mamie in 1903, and Ioma Williams. When Ioma took the stand, she stated, “I live at 617 Washington with Miss Majors. I refuse to answer to what kind of a house she kept there, as it might degrade me.”

Apparently Mamie’s other employees were not called to testify, but further evidence showed Mamie had averaged one court visit per month in the previous eighteen months. Although it was established that Nellie White owned the house and paid the bills there, Mamie continued to be prosecuted for her actions. On August 3, the motion for a new trial was overruled. Judge L.W. Cunningham sentenced Mamie to six months in El Paso County Jail, plus court costs.

Mamie appealed Cunningham’s decision to the state supreme court. In the meantime, she took over Anna Wilson’s bordello at 621 Washington in January of 1906, after Anna was convicted of selling beer to a minor. Mamie’s employees were Ethel Gray, Clara Stillwell, and musician Fred Wright. Given the size of the two-story, four-square home, Mamie likely employed several other women as well.

The move certainly did not fool authorities, nor did Mamie’s refusal to quit the profession. In September of 1906, the original judgment against Mamie was upheld. Still determined to clear her name, Mamie moved next door to her brothel, where she appears to have been the sole occupant. Next, she enlisted her influential friends to secure a governors’ pardon. On September 20, 1906, The Colorado City Iris printed a copy of a letter from Governor Henry A. Buchtel to Reverend Frank W. Hullinger of Colorado City. Buchtel’s published letter was a reply to one he had received from the Women’s Christian Temperance Union of Colorado City, a letter he called “discourteous.” 

The note read in part, “Senator Cornforth came with a bundle of letters from your most prominent people, asking for the pardon of Mamie Majors, but I did not pardon her at all.” Buchtel’s letter went on to include excerpts from letters written by Byron Hames, Judge Orr, and several other prominent citizens. Each letter requested that Mamie be released from serving her upcoming jail time. Hames’ letter stated in part, “Having known Miss Mamie Majors for twenty years and found her always upright and honorable in her business dealings, we would consider it a great favor if you would pardon her from the charge that is now against her.” Judge Orr’s letter stated she had ceased business. Most interesting were letters from J.D. Faulkner and Officer Rettinger, since they had initially testified against Mamie. All of the letters made Mamie Majors appear more innocent than a June bride.

Governor Buchtel reiterated in his published letter, “Now in the face of all this, I did not pardon Mamie Majors. Please fix that in your mind. I would like to say it over and over about 10,000 times, I DID NOT PARDON MAMIE MAJORS.” The good governors’ name was at last cleared in the eyes of Colorado City’s do-gooders. But what the Colorado City Iris failed to mention until a few days later was that Buchtel had reduced Mamie’s sentence from six months to thirty days. The newspaper further emphasized that Senator Arthur Cornforth had informed Buchtel that Mamie was not even in jail. Upon discovering this, the governor insisted she immediately be incarcerated.

After serving her thirty days, Mamie returned to her wicked ways. She moved back to 615 Washington, and the 1905-6 directory lists Lola Siggars and Margaret Scott as employees. In the wake of her scandalous court case, many of Mamie’s employees had parted ways with her, but she still retained friendships with many of her former girls. Even after employee Carrie Briscoe married Burt Wells in 1902, Mamie paid for shipment of Carrie’s body when she died of tuberculosis in November 1906.

Mamie continued to rebuild her business while weathering mass meetings of the W.C.T.U., a slew of new ordinances, and Mayor Ira Foote—the next official to vow to clean up Colorado City. In January of 1909, the red-light district suffered a series of devastating fires that burned down many brothels, including Mamie’s. In April, the Iris noted that despite a short-lived reformation, both Laura Bell McDaniel and Mamie Majors were at it again. “No sooner had the new officers held up the hands and taken the oath of office to support the laws of the land,” blasted the newspaper, “than Laura Bell, the oldest and most influential sinner of them all, started a brick building said to cost $10,000. Mamie Majors, once sentenced to six months in the county jail and pardoned by Governor Buchtel, on the pleas that she had reformed, fitted up the old ‘City Hotel’ and opened up the house in full blast.”

The city directory for 1909 lists Mamie at 626 Washington. By May, Mamie and her cohorts had reverted to paying their customary $25.00 in monthly fines. From September 1909 through February 1910, Mamie paid an average of $41.00 per month in fines, all for keeping a bawdy or disorderly house. Mamie next relocated to 710 Washington. In 1913, Mamie and inmates Marie Fitzgerald and Jennie Johnson (formerly a domestic servant for Laura Bell McDaniel) were fined again.

The last act of benevolence committed by Mamie Majors happened in December of 1909, when retired madam Blanche Burton’s died after her dress caught on fire. Mamie was with Blanche as she died, and paid for her funeral expenses.

Mamie remained in business through at least 1916 when Colorado City succeeded in declaring liquor unlawful within city limits. With the demise of the saloons and gambling houses, the pressure to cease business was even greater on prostitutes. Eventually Mamie gave in to the law and like so many others, disappeared without a trace. Her competitor, Laura Bell McDaniel, died in 1918. Today, one of Mamie’s brothels at 2616 West Cucharras is an apartment house for seniors, and one of the few brothels in Colorado City to remain in its original condition.

Lillian Powers, Genteel Harlot of the West

c 2019 by Jan MacKell Collins

Portions of this article first appeared in the Colorado Gambler magazine, as well as Brothels, Bordellos & Bad Girls: Prostitution in Colorado 1860-1930 (University of New Mexico Press, 2003).

While the general public tends to think of prostitutes in the west as being slovenly, uneducated and rude, such was not always the case. A good many of the would-be wild women who worked in the camps, towns and cities of Colorado during the 1800’s and early 1900’s were just the opposite. Most could read and write. Many came from good homes and had good educations, some from some of finest schools back east.

At least some women carried their education and manners into their professions as prostitutes. In the higher dollar “parlor houses”, madams were known to send their employees to finishing school, so that they may conduct themselves in a more respectable manner. Drug and alcohol use notwithstanding, most parlor house girls were quite refined. Most could also play an instrument or sing, and practiced good table manners and conversational talents. Such was the case of Lillian Powers, whose intelligence and kindness endeared her to many of her customers.

Lillian Powers was the city of Florence, Colorado’s most famous madam. She arrived after working for, and then partnering with, madam Laura Evens in Salida for several years. In Florence, Lil set up her own place south of the railroad tracks cutting through town. It was said that Lillian had been a school teacher in Wisconsin before coming West. She had formerly been a laundress, and her boss fondly dubbed her “The Laundry Queen”. But such work was dull to Lillian, who looked younger than she really was. Before long she had made her way to South Dakota where she heard about the money prostitutes were making in Denver.

Lillian actually had her start in Denver right around the turn of the century, when she ran a house called “The Cupolo”. But she didn’t like the way prostitutes were being treated or the low wages they received. In about 1907 Lillian moved to the Cripple Creek District, where she worked in Victor for four years before relocating to Cripple Creek. There, she could rule over her own crib, a small apartment she could rent and operate as she pleased. Lillian preferred running a crib to working in a confining parlor house. It was said she kept her place neat with clean linens and towels, frilly curtains and other comforts.

Lil’s landlady was a French woman named Leola Ahrens, better known around town as Leo the Lion. Leo drank a lot and threw violent temper tantrums. In her early days in Cripple Creek, the madam had run her own sporting house and invested her profits in the cribs. When Lillian worked for her, Leo had lost the house and was reduced to working out of one of her own cribs.

Because Lil’s place was so neat and clean, and because she was always willing to lend a sympathetic ear to her customers, Lil she made friends with many of her regulars. She also served beer as part of her services. Within a month she was making good money, and it was said that some of Lil’s customers came to visit her more for her friendship than sex.

Leo ultimately got jealous over losing her customers to Lil. One day, in a drunken rage, Leo began pounding on Lillian’s door, gun in hand. “You double-crossing bitch, you get out, and I mean get out!” she screamed. “You get out of this crib and out of town. Or I’ll kill you!” Lil fled out the back door to the telephone office and called Laura Evens, asking for a job. Then she hired a local boy to help her pack, a process which took all night.

For some reason, Lil took the earliest train to Colorado Springs first, before going on to Salida. At Laura Evens’s, another young woman answered the door and reported to Laura the new girl looked “dirty and old.” It was probably true, given that Lil had fled in the dead of night and endured a lengthy train ride to Salida without much sleep. Laura rented a crib to Lil anyway. The following day after a good bath, Lil dressed up and paid Laura a visit, giving her rent in advance. The two became good friends and Lillian eventually managed the cribs for Laura in return for a percentage of the profits. By then, Lil was alternately known as Fay Weston, and the cribs became known as Weston Terrace.

In about 1911 Lillian moved to Florence, just east of Canon City and opened her own place. Founded in 1873, Florence flourished in coal mining, cattle, oil and agriculture. At least one of the girls from Salida followed Lil and may have gone to work for her. Laura Evens came to visit her there, and Lil made occasional visits to Salida as well. In 1915 when Laura bought more property in Salida, Lillian paid the Deed of Trust.

“Lil’s Place” in Florence afforded many amenities, including two or three girls, a beer garden with a dance floor, and a high wall around the backyard for privacy. She spent $30,000 on her house, which featured a ballroom with a player piano. It was also said she had a huge collection of fine cut glass and diamonds, including a diamond cross that was once given to Denver madam Mattie Silks by prostitute Lizzie Preston. Lil slept downstairs and her boarders upstairs. Roy Pray, who was born in Victor in 1910 and grew up in Florence, recalled visiting Lil’s house while he was in college during the 1930’s. One of the girls kept sitting on the lap of Roy’s friend. Unable to stand it any longer, the shy and embarrassed boy finally admonished the girl with a “There now, tut tut!”

From time to time over the years, Lil was shut down, but always managed to reopen for business. Eventually she hired a couple to cook and maintain the house. By the 1940’s, Lil could afford to employ 10 girls and was no longer a working madam. Eventually, however, she was closed down for good and simply retired, passing away at a local nursing home in 1960.

After Lillian’s death, Colorado historian and author Caroline Bancroft attempted to contact Arthur Mink, a friend of Lil for some thirty years. In a letter to Ms. Bancroft, Mink confirmed a promise he had made to Lil not to reveal anything about her past. There is little doubt that Lil died with many secrets, even as she continues to intrigue fans of prostitution history.

You can read more about Lil Powers, Laura Evens and other Colorado madams in my upcoming book, Good Time Girls of Colorado: A Red-Light History of the Centennial State (Globe Pequot Press, September 2019).