​Revelations ~ April 2019

This is a monthly column helping us to get to know our friends and members in a deeper way. We thank Monte High for taking the time to do these in-depth interviews for us.
      Gary and Connie Dolezal met on a mountainside. It was a glorious spring morning in 1973 when the youngsters departed from Denver in search of wilderness, each anticipating an adventure ahead of them. They were set to partake of a hike organized by the Colorado Mountain Club, to Bottle Pass and up the precarious slope to Ptarmigan Peak. Gary rode to the trailhead with the leader of the hike. Connie was traveling with her father and sister. When all the hikers were accounted for, the group set off along Deadhorse Creek. When they stopped for lunch Gary found the perfect seat on a rock that happened to be placed near an enticing young maiden. Connie’s younger sister offered Gary one of her mother’s illustrious “poison” cookies, and a most delightful conversation ensued. After lunch (without little sister) they walked down the mountain together and at the trailhead parted, enchanted, upon their not-so-separate ways, returning to their disrupted, everyday lives.
     During the course of their conversation, Gary had gleaned that Connie was finishing up her schooling at the University of Colorado Boulder. She was working on an internship at “The Denver”, or Denver Dry Goods, which happened to be in Gary’s neck of the urban woods as he was finishing up his schooling at the University of Colorado, Denver. So, a couple of weeks after his poisoning, Gary sauntered over to The Denver and asked where he might find a Miss Connie Bach. Needless to say, it was quite a jolt for Connie – she was astonished. Gary knocked her over with a feather and she accepted his invitation to lunch.
     Gary was born in Denver (and lived there until the age of 55, when he moved to Grand Junction). Gary’s foremost childhood endeavor was making music. In the fifth grade he became a racketeer, falling into a life of organized music. Gary had his heart set on playing the trumpet, with shiny brass and a big, boisterous sound. He saw that when a trumpeter played his horn, everyone took notice. Yet, when Gary visited the music store and listened to the salesman and his parents, he learned more about the various instruments – and he underwent an interesting metamorphosis and somehow came home with a clarinet. The clarinet – capable of creating a complex, intricate, sophisticated sound. [Yes, yes, yes, a trumpet in the masterful hand of an imaginative, playful person is also capable of a subtle nuance and sensitivity.] Dedication and practice are needed to move beyond squeaks and giggles. Gary did not begin to practice with gusto until the seventh grade, when he discovered the opportunities afforded to those in the “first section” band. Gary performed in band and orchestra through high school.
     Gary also signed up for judo in the fifth grade. He was not enthused. In fact, he was forced against his will. For the first three years of judo class, Gary was a mat mop. He was thrown this way and that and became quite adept at sprawling. Yet, in junior high, as Gary matured, he began to advance. He found his balance; he found his rhythm; he perfected his moves. Gary earned his black belt in judo during high school. And judo turned out to be the perfect accompaniment to the clarinet.
     Gary graduated from Englewood High School in 1963 and entered the University of Colorado, Boulder, that autumn with engineering stars in his eyes. Three years and two academic suspensions later, his eyes had been pretty well cleared, and he started looking for a job. He was skilled at mechanical drawing and engineering graphics, and that seemed preparation enough for a starter job. He applied at several places that wanted more “field” experience, and just when his prospects were dimming his parents noticed a want ad that called for a “land draftsman.” The Denver office of the Kansas-based National Cooperative Refinery Association decided to give Gary a try. Land Drafting is all about showing mineral ownership on a map format, and Gary took right to it. He immersed himself in his real-world schooling and progressed to working with legal documents. He began to go into the field to research oil and gas prospects; however, the company said that if he wanted to become Landman, he would have to get a degree – in something. (A Landman determines mineral ownership and negotiates contracts.) So, Gary found himself simultaneously in real-world school and officially back in school at the University of Colorado, Denver. Gary allowed the courses to guide him and eventually wound up with a degree in Interpersonal Communication. A few months before graduation, he met Connie.
     Connie was born in Richland, Washington. The family soon moved to Long Island, NY and then Pittsburgh, PA shortly after; and then, not long after Connie’s third birthday, they moved into a rural area outside of Pittsburgh that bordered a county park – South Park.
     The family became closely acquainted with South Park. Mom would organize impromptu walks in the woods. Off we go! Across the road and up a long, steep hill where they would follow any number of deer trails, old fire roads, and the like. They would often encounter wildlife, but most vivid in Connie’s memory is the time they came upon a pine rattler – “Mom poked him with a stick to make him rattle, so we kids would know the sound”. If you ever hear this sound...
     Vacations were usually reserved for road trips west. They would always stop in Denver to visit family. The most memorable trips were to Yellowstone, Grand Teton, the Grand Canyon, and Craters of the Moon. They camped along the way. They slept in a large family-size tent until they became a family of five, when her parents bought a teardrop trailer with a chuckwagon style kitchen on the backend. Her folks slept in the trailer, Connie and her older brother slept in the back of the station wagon on corrugated air mattresses, and her little sister slept in the car’s bench-style front seat. They all had old army surplus, feather-filled, mummy bags.
     In the evenings the children would search for other kids in the campground to play. They often played cards after dark, hearts being the favorite game. Playing cards by the light of a Coleman gas lantern, accompanied by its peculiar sound, was a regular event. Oh, and s’mores, of course. Connie’s dad would post a note in the high-traffic area of the campground, the lavatories, asking if anyone had kids that wanted to go on a long hike the following day. Though Connie was only in elementary school, she was expected to complete 10 to 20-mile hikes without complaint, and was usually having so much fun that she never had reason to complain. Connie’s only complaint on these trips was the long three-day drive to Colorado and back. That is a long time to be stuffed into a vehicle with seats much less comfortable than they are nowadays, and without movies to watch or cell phones to keep in touch with friends. Perhaps that made the camping all the more enjoyable — when they could finally get out and run around, it seemed like being set free?
     The Bach family moved to Denver when Connie was in high school. She attended Lakewood High School in Jefferson County, and then attended the University of Colorado, Boulder. She’d had her hopes set on CU since living in Pennsylvania, so the move to Colorado saved Connie’s parents a good chunk of change. Connie graduated from CU with a Bachelor of Science degree in 3 ½ years. A few months before graduation, she met Gary.
     Connie and Gary were married on June 29, 1974. It was a small, intimate wedding; the reception the following weekend was large and a good time was had by all. The first honeymoon was a joyful weekend jaunt into the wild, camping below Berthoud Pass along Current Creek. On Labor Day they followed it up with a seven-day backpacking trip into the wilderness of the West Elk Mountains. The parents were very worried and tried to dissuade the young couple, yet the weather was ideal and Connie and Gary made it out of the forest fully intact and alive. Genuinely, they were more alive than ever before.
     And so began their journey through life as a married couple. Connie worked as a manager at    Radio Shack and Gary as a Landman. They continued to fill much of their spare time hiking and camping in wood and meadow. Managing RadioShack required 10 to 12-hour days, so Connie eventually gave that up for a series of jobs that allowed regular eight-hour days. A couple years after their wedding, they bought their first home near Congress Park in Denver. Gary liked the intimacy of the small office; consequently, he never worked for a major corporation. He preferred to remain with the less bureaucratic organizations, and this path led naturally to him becoming an Independent Landman, working for many different companies on their many and varied prospects. He worked with oil and gas prospects in the Rocky Mountains states, and he also worked on an iron mining prospect in Colorado and several gold-mining prospects in Nevada. Work travel varied widely. Some of Gary’s contracts required a day or two, occasionally a month or so. Connie transitioned into being a homemaker, and a couple years later, in 1979, Danica was born.
     When Danica was tiny, the Dolezals began consorting with members of the Denver Sports Car Club and participated in many TSD car rallies. They also started square dancing while Danica was an infant and had a wonderful time with that for years. They wore matching outfits – Connie made her own dresses and Gary made his own shirts. There were tons of camping trips over the years because they wanted Danica to be comfortable in the quiet and dark of a mountain night, and they all enjoyed camping and hiking (and so did their dogs, Dwalin and Gimli, and later, Zirak). In the fifth grade Danica earned a membership to the Monkey Club – she was the only girl in her class able to climb to the top of the rope in the gymnasium. She enjoyed gymnastics and easily scampered to the top of trees that were 30 or more feet tall. Danica had no fear of heights, unlike her mother!
     In the mid-80s’ the Dolezal family was presented with an opportunity to exercise their dexterity and prove their ability to adapt. At the height of the petroleum crash most of the jobs in Denver were eliminated or moved to cities like Dallas, Midland, Houston and Oklahoma City. Gary and Connie elected to stay. Yet, how would they pay the mortgage? Gary thought he might enjoy teaching, so he took a job as a teacher’s aide to see if he could survive full days with the very young. The experiment was successful, so Gary returned to UCD to get his teacher certification. He started out substitute teaching until he landed a job at a private school in Greenwood Village – Beacon Country Day School. His first classroom was a group of 18 in grades 5 through 8. He taught the entire curriculum. Connie needed to find employment that would bring income into the household. Hired by Blue Cross and Blue Shield through a temp agency, Connie started out in personnel and ended up as a business analyst.
     Fast forward to 2005. An old attorney friend who had moved to Grand Junction called and asked if Gary would be willing to work as a Landman again. Connie and Gary headed west. This time around they would run the title work business as a team. They worked well together, and all the time spent in close proximity, rather than erode their relationship as sometimes happens, airily unfurled another sail upon their friendship.
     One fine day Gary and Connie were driving along Grand Avenue and happened to pass the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of the Grand Valley. Gary hadn’t the faintest clue about Unitarian Universalism. Connie had asked a friend in the 80s,’ a UU who had responded to Connie’s curiosity with – “they ask a lot of questions.” Connie’s plate had been way too full at the time to even think of asking much about anything. Gary and Connie had both been raised Catholic and had not had much to do with religion for a good long while. They decided to give the UU’s a whirl, and showed up the following Sunday. During the Service, which was presented by Warren Peterson, they realized that it felt like a great home. After the Service they spoke with Warren – and signed the book to become members that very morning! After years of worshiping with nature they had at last found a community of their own species with which to share their joys and sorrows. Connie and Gary have also had the pleasure of wiping a good deal of sweat from their brows, pulling nails and doing heavy lifting, working on the remodeling project for our building and volunteering in various congregation leadership roles. You may have heard the Dolezals speaking from the pulpit, or heard Gary playing the native flute for special music.
     In 2015 Gary and Connie became grandparents. Danica and Bryan had a boy – Odin. They live in Denver, so Connie and Gary are making even more trips back and forth over the continental divide.
     When the Dolezals retired in 2016, they upped the ante on travel. There now are numerous delightful day trips, grounding camping trips, enlightening car trips and peaceful goodwill tours overseas. A few years ago they learned of a volunteer English Language Program in Spain, where volunteers do not need to speak Spanish. They decided to give it a try and have since fallen in love with Spain. Spain keeps calling them back. Connie and Gary enjoy the climate and the culture. The people are wonderful, and they have made close friends.
     Once again the Dolezals have been to Spain, spending time with friends. As I write these words they are zooming on a high-speed train on their way to Munich. They also plan to visit Fischach, Bavaria, Germany where Connie’s Jewish ancestors on the paternal side are from (the maternal side are from Russia). They’ll be staying with the cousin of a cousin, who’ll be taking them on a tour including the cemetery. The Dolezals are winding their way toward France. You may recently have witnessed Connie and Gary trekking around Grand Junction sporting backpacks and hiking poles. They have been building up their muscles to walk the pilgrimage of the Camino de Santiago (The Way of Saint James). On April Fools’ Day they will begin a five-week, five-hundred-twenty mile walking meditation beginning at St Jean Pied de Port, France, and ending at Finesterre, Spain, on the Atlantic Ocean.
 
Life goes on…  in endless song…