On a hot, clear day exactly 30 years ago, two really great people – Patricia and Bill – drove a rented gray van southward across Utah to drop off strange cargo in Durango.
Their delivery consisted of a couple boxes of books, a dresser, an overstuffed chair and matching ottoman, some clothes, a twin bed, mismatched kitchen items and a green mo-ped that leaked oil.
Among the jetsam was a cocky but utterly terrified kid with a newly minted journalism degree.
That kid was me. With the promise of a first “real world” job, assistant news editor of The Durango Herald, the story begins.
Thirty years in Durango is a milestone that was never a goal. It just happened, like so many of life's best delights.
So please indulge Action Line in suspending Q-and-A this week for a trip down Memory Lane.
Being that it's Durango, Memory Lane will have lots of potholes, some roadkill, piles of windshield-cracking gravel, many orange cones and a pack of entitled cyclists riding five-abreast.
Naturally, let's begin with that green mo-ped. In 1984, a car-less Action Line depended on an effete 2-horsepower machine for transportation.
Thirty years ago, riding a mo-ped was called being “flat broke.” Today, we call it being “multi-modal.”
The mo-ped was stolen a couple months later, forcing Action Line to walk everywhere. It's tough not having a car in Durango.
Housing was challenging, too. You could slum it in a two-bedroom Quonset hut for $195 a month. Action Line's first place was a $235-per-month converted attic. Today, we call those uninsulated hovels accessory dwelling units – or ADUs.
Home ownership was out of reach. A classified ad in 1984 listed a “very nice 4BR near Riverview $110K.” Meanwhile, a downtown Victorian “recently painted” with a “lovely garden” could be yours for $86,000.
Today, those prices are shocking – for being so low.
Yet, an August 1984 headline screamed “It's Not Looking Good for Real Estate.” The story tried to explain why there were only 39 sales so far that summer compared with 149 third-quarter sales the previous year.
Realtors blamed “high interest rates and even the Olympics” for the swoon. Seriously, they blamed the Summer Olympics.
Interest rates were certainly high. A Durango National Bank ad offered 11.581 annual percent yield on a two-year CD.
And speaking of CDs – the music kind – they were introduced in 1984, as was the Apple Macintosh 128K computer, priced at $2,495.
In Durango, apples were cheap and plentiful. City Market offered them in 38-pound boxes for $10.99.
Ask anyone about a Durango restaurant named Seasons, and you'd be directed to the popular bistro downtown. It wasn't always so.
Before 1984, “Seasons” was a family dining establishment on Camino del Rio. It was shuttered earlier that year, and by late summer, the facility was sold and converted to what is now Denny's 24-hour restaurant.
In the ensuing 30 years, there have been zero reports of anyone confusing the new Seasons with the old.
La Plata County residents were revolting in 1984. Wait. Let's put that another way.
Thirty-years ago, some folks wanted to shake up the La Plata Electric Association board, with nine candidates challenging incumbent directors.
One of those challengers, a passionate solar-power advocate, was quoted as saying the board was “too isolated from the membership of LPEA” and their views and actions “do not necessarily reflect the views or the best interests of the membership on many issues.”
None of the challengers won a seat in the autumn 1984 elections. It would be another 30 years for the green movement to take hold.
And so it goes. If you wanted to win a Porsche, you could “take a great Polaroid photo” and enter it at the local Kmart. Phones were attached to walls. Airlines serving Durango included America West, Aspen Airways and TransColorado.
And in 1984, a high school junior from Detroit traveled to Turkey as a foreign exchange student. Some 21 years and one blind date later, that girl would eventually accept a diamond ring and thus assume the dubious title of “Mrs. Action Line.”
It's been said that the way to leave Durango with a million is to come here with two. That implies you lose a fortune by living here. Piffle!
In three decades, Action Line has accumulated a million, but not in dollars. It's in the form of gratitude. Thanks a million, Durango. Thanks for the chance to be a part of the best place on Earth.
Here's to the next 30. May they be even better than the first.
Email questions to actionline@durangoherald.com or mail them to Action Line, The Durango Herald, 1275 Main Ave., Durango, CO 81301. You can request anonymity if your Memory Lane features a bike box, a HAWK light and a roundabout.
