Room at the inn: Hospitality, accountability, and LandBack

Last month I was showing a new arrival around the area and took them through Littleton’s historic downtown and along a historic canal trail. I was reminded again that what is historic to many of us here in Colorado is not that old, much more recent than what people from the midwest or east coast have in mind when using the term. Littleton has more of a history than many of Denver’s over 50 suburbs, having grown up along the Platte River and a rail line southwest of the capitol – a lot more than Lakewood, for example, where I live now. Lakewood just celebrated its 50th birthday and may be most well-known in the area for creating a downtown from scratch, after taking down a large suburban mall.

But the history goes back much further, of course, and it raises what seem to me critical questions for today, for Advent, for hospitality and accountability, and for discernment of what is right and just now, the signs of the times. I know so little of this area’s land, history, and stories, but the few things I can find tell me a lot.  At least 48 tribes have called Colorado home and took care of this place for millennia, leaving it a vibrant home for many others. Now we are amidst the “Dustbowlification” of Colorado and the west from continuing to use fossil fuels, something NASA has been tracking and warning of for years. This neglect of life and well-being seems criminal. Meanwhile, Colorado’s Democratic governor and “Trifecta” are trying to boost production by 30% this decade – a few more dollars for a fraction of the 1% – another crime against the land, air, water, people, stewardship and protection of all life.

I’m a 10-minute drive from places that were hearth and home to people 7,000 years ago. The river banks of the Platte, Cherry Creek, Dry Creek, Bear Creek and more were also commonly used. The first recorded white settlers to visit what is now the Lakewood area wrote of the Grand Encampment of Indian nations along what is now called Bear Creek, and named that river for it initially. Now I am hearing that more of the area may be flooded for water storage, displacing the trees, owls, and other creatures that live there. Another path could be cutting the half of all water use that goes to lawns in the metro area, or outlawing HOA rules in some places that require grass be kept to a certain level of green. 

What is care for these places and what is our responsibility now? Being a researcher, I undertake some days of internet and investigatory conversations to try to find Indigenous names for places in Jefferson County. Though I find stories with some key figures, I can find not one Indigenous place name. All of that seems to be lost. I reach out to a friend with connections to Arapaho and Cheyenne communities living in Wyoming and Oklahoma now, but we have not found anything yet. I do learn that Indigenous families and nations from this area want places they can stay, return to, and do ceremony when they are able to come back. A local joint effort just renamed Squaw Mountain after Mestaa'ėhehe (Mes tah hey) in an adjacent county, a bare start.

The most well-known story involving Indigenous people here and the earliest settlers raises so many questions for me; I hope you will share your thoughts too after I relate it. I wonder at this pattern repeated again and again, what it implies, and what it requires of us now.

The story goes that white people arrived and hoped to settle. Indigenous people whose land it has been for generations offered or agreed to share it. Here in Lakewood at the foothills just below Dinosaur Ridge and southwest of Green Mountain, Ute bands shared the lands around Iron Springs, still met at Council Tree on occasion, and shared meals with the newly-arrived Rooney family from the Midwest. 

What was the agreement beyond the information we have about sharing the land and joint use? That is lost to history too, but the Rooney family emphasizes ongoing connection, hospitality, return visits, and friendly relations, as well as their new status as formal owner of the ranch in the new white settler tradition. A question keeps turning over in my mind: Is (or should) the agreement be void when the land is not cared for in a way that enables others to continue to live on it and be supported from it? How many other places are like this?  An agreement or contract seems to have been violated here and it would seem that Indian nations would be on some solid ground unilaterally taking land back in many places.

I learn that in this fifth generation of the Rooney family, the current plan is for the land with the most well-known story in Lakewood’s white history, as well as some of the most scenic areas for miles around, to be sold for a car lot. Gas and diesel cars are already threatening the region in other ways. This past summer, the region reached pollution levels that were “worst in the world” due to ozone formation from vehicles and fracking. Yet our current and past governors still aim to increase fossil fuel extraction by 30% this decade, the exact opposite of what scientists and international bodies have concluded is necessary.

I also learn that there is a history of direct action in my backyard, out in the suburbs! Green Mountain, perhaps the most notable and visible landmark in Lakewood, was saved from development by repeated blockades by neighbors in the early 70s! The open space, trails, and views now draw people from across the metro area. But anti-development approaches such as the measure Lakewood passed in the last general election are problematic too and interfere with higher-density affordable housing that is greatly needed closer to work sites. Illustrating the situation, an x-ray tech I chatted with last month has been in Colorado and looking for housing for years and finally was able to get something 45 minutes away. As a planner, I look at the lot and see that an apartment building or condos for workers could be built sharing the same parking lot if zoning permitted and just one space allowed per unit. Instead, our governor has pushed for COVID dollars and more to be spent on highway widenings that increase traffic and air pollution.

Those who live and lived here offered “room at the inn,” the viability of which we are now currently threatening, in contravention of the initial welcome and agreement – to the extent that existed. It’s up to us to consider what is necessary now, to think about life, land, and seven generations – and what our current systems require, ignore, or take for granted. The situation can seem difficult, constrained, and even impossible, but our faith and Jesus’s way don’t allow us to stop there and take the easy way out. Our tradition is clear on the value of all people and all life. US bishops talk about making life central in decision-making but are strangely absent for people once our feet hit the ground. I think of the Four Necessity Catholics and their courage and take inspiration, recommitting to work on LandBack and a rapid and just energy transition.