Above photo from:

             Above photo from: Downtown Telluride: The city. (Doug Berr) ~

Nestled in a box canyon surrounded by 13,000-foot peaks of the San Juan Mountains, the Town of Telluride is just six blocks wide and twelve
blocks long.  A National Historic Landmark District with Victorian-era architecture, Telluride rests at the base of the Telluride Ski Mountain.
Located mid-mountain at 9,500 feet above sea level, Mountain Village overlooks some of Colorado's most beautiful landscapes.

There are two theories as to how the town came to be known as 'Telluride:

1) The name was derived from the mineral tellurium, a non-metallic element often associated with mineral deposits of gold (and ironically, not
found in this valley.)
  ~ or ~

2) The town was named for the famous send-off given to fortune seekers headed to the southern San Juan Mountains - "To-hell-you-ride!"

Telluride sits along the scenic San Juan Skyway Scenic Byway, a 233-mile loop that connects a variety of iconic attractions in Cortez, Durango,
Silverton and Ouray. From Telluride, the scenery along the San Juan Skyway is lined with mountain landscapes, vast ranchland and mountain
passes. In late September, the fall foliage provides a signature show, creating yellows and golds as far as the eye can see.

History of Telluride:

The great valley where the Town of Telluride now exists was once home to nomadic tribes who followed the San Miguel River. Used as a
summer camp for centuries by Ute Indians, the area provided ample hunting grounds for elk, deer and Rocky Mountain bighorn sheep. The
Utes would retreat to lower elevations and warmer locales in the winter season and return with spring. For centuries, their way of life was

In the late 1700s, Spanish explorers discovered the San Juan Mountains, which they named after the river that ran through them. They
reached the area via Santa Fe, New Mexico along what is now known as the Old Spanish Trail, a 1,200-mile route used primarily for trade and
exploration. No permanent settling took place during this time, and the trappers and traders most likely moved on for greener pastures farther
west toward the coast of California.

By historic standards, Telluride is a fairly modern town. With gold found near present day Denver in 1858, the Colorado Territory once again
received attention, and the San Juan Mountains lured fortune seekers with visions of silver and gold. Once gold was discovered here, the boom
was on. By the mid-1870s, the Sheridan Mine was the first in a string of local claims, and a tent camp was established in the valley below.

Originally called Columbia, the rowdy mining camp became a town in 1878 and changed its name to Telluride because the name “Columbia”
was already taken. The name Telluride probably comes from the chemical element “Tellurium,” which was actually never found in the region.

With the coming of the railroad in 1890, the remote boomtown flourished. A melting pot of immigrants seeking their fortunes turned Telluride
into a thriving community of 5,000. Prosperity abounded, and Telluride was full of thrilling possibilities. On June 24, 1889, before becoming
associated with his gang, "The Wild Bunch,” Robert Leroy Parker made his first major heist by robbing the San Miguel Valley Bank with the help
of two friends. He “withdrew” $24,580, and later became the famous Butch Cassidy. Contrary to popular belief, the Sundance Kid was not a part
of this heist.

Due to the mining boom, in a short span of twenty years the town grew from a hodgepodge of cabins and shacks to rows of elegant Victorians
and stately brick buildings. Telluride’s most famous historic mines are the Tomboy, Pandora, Smuggler-Union, Nellie and Sheridan mines. From
1905 to 1911 alone, more than $16 million in gold and silver was extracted from the collective mines in the Telluride area. But, with the crash of
silver prices, followed by the First World War, the mining boom collapsed. Miners moved on, and the town’s population gradually dwindled from
thousands to hundreds resulting in a ghost town.

In the 1970s, Telluride reinvented itself. Legendary powder—a different sort of gold—was mined.

When the Telluride Ski Resort opened in 1973, the character of the community changed, and the town spun back into high gear.
It was, again, a time of thrilling possibilities.

The Telluride Ski Resort is renowned for its world-class slopes and stunning mountain scenery. Born of the same adventurous spirit that birthed
the Telluride ski community, many cultural, music and art events and festivals were also founded during the town’s renaissance of the 1970s.
From jazz to film, these cultural extravaganzas have grown over the last three decades into modern-day celebrations that draw world-renowned
artists and talent. From Memorial Day to October, there is a festival or event almost every weekend.

                                                            Above photo from:

About the above photo:   In the winter of 1895-96, a wagon sleigh drawn by two horses was photographed sitting in deep snow in the middle of
Colorado Avenue. Men in suits stood on the cleared boardwalk on the sunny north side of the street, while others shoveled snow on the south

Courtesy of the Denver Public Library Western History Collection.

From the Town of Telluride website

                                               The 5th Annual Telluride Horror Show!

                                                                                     October 10, 11, 12, 2014

                                                        The Telluride Horror Show......taking fright to new heights!

                     Above photo from:

October 10, 11, 12, 2014 marks the 5th Annual Telluride Horror Show, a 3-day horror film festival in world-famous Telluride, Colorado. For
three days, film fans will experience the latest horror, fantasy, and sci-fi films in Telluride's historic Sheridan Opera House and Nugget Theatre.
The festival screens an average of 20 feature films and 30+ short films, and hosts special programs, guests, and events. If you love genre flicks
then you don't want to miss this festival. Named one of the "20 Coolest Film Festivals" by Moviemaker Magazine.


As if the town of Telluride, with its small population of just 2000 people, didn’t have enough festivals already, and even film festivals at that, but
The Telluride Horror Show Film Festival is another one you can put on the calendar. And honestly, can a place as majestic as Telluride really
have too many festivals? Can there be too much celebration in the beautiful box canyon? Is there any reason not to have a party and festivities
and movies and music and entertainment? Nah.

So welcome to another show- not just any show. MovieMaker Magazine calls the Telluride Horror Show Festival one of the 20 coolest film
festivals in existence. For three days in October, the recently new Horror Show Film Festival celebrates the macabre in the stunning, but
daunting, backdrop of the Telluride mountains.

Don’t be scared to come. It’s actually a real treat.

With venues like the historic Sheridan Opera House (Isn’t this allegedly haunted?) and the Nugget Theater, fans of this genre get to immerse
themselves in horror, fantasy, and sci-fi. And both theaters are just a bock away from each other in distance. Telluride Horrow Show boasts
more than twenty feature length films, and over thirty shorts. On top of that, like other film festivals, this one brings in special guests, hosts
exciting events, and then offers special programs.

Filmmakers, experienced and amateur, are welcome to submit their horror movies to the festival for review. Online submission forms are
available with a meager entry fee.

Tickets to the festival are just $72 with an average of only $6 per program. This includes admission to the opening event and meeting the
visiting filmmakers. The whole thing is quite a deal for the folks who love the thrill of horror.

So the weather can be the scary part of Telluride Horrow Show Film Festival. October means fall is in full swing. We’re talking sunny afternoons
with aspen leaves blowing from the bare limbs of trees to possible rain storms in the frigid evenings and temperatures dropping likely below 32
F. Plan for a little frost out on the pumpkin. And, camping is not recommended. Talk about a flirting with horror. Luckily, accommodations this
time of year are more affordable in Telluride due to the off-season. Alpine Lodging is the rental company of choice for Telluride Horror Show,
and using Alpine to book your festival room will save you 15%. Gondola transportation may likely be out of service, though the town itself is walk-
able, bike-able, and has free bus service. Getting around is not a problem.

Flying directly into Telluride might even be possible for those on a budget. Off-season offers price-reduced flights right into the canyon, though
flying into Montrose, Grand Junction, and even Durango are all fine, but require shuttle service or rental car.

Due to off-season, some restaurants may not be open or have shortened hours. La Cocina de Luz and Brown Dog Pizza are two that stay open
year-round. Both have gluten free and vegetarian options.

Like most Telluride festivals, the Horror Show festival accepts applications for volunteer positions beginning the summer season. Learn more at!

Read the article in the Telluride Watch:

                                       Annual Lone Tree Cemetery Tours

Lone Tree Cemetery Tour  with local historian Andrea Benda. Explore the disasters, dramas, heroes and heritage of Telluride’s past.  

201 W. Gregory, Telluride
(970) 728-3344

About the Lone Tree Cemetery:

.......It has more than one tree nowadays - the original "lone tree" shades the grave of a baby buried in 1895 - and offers a quick trip through
Telluride region history, what with mass graves from a turn-of-the-century avalanche to a mine fire to union battles that led to gunfire.  Look for
the graves of two brothers who fought on opposite sides of one another in the American Civil War.

                                Ghosts of the Telluride Historical Museum

When Telluride's first post office put it on the map in 1880, the town was called Columbia—but with a California town by the same name
already in existence, postal workers became quickly confused. While the town is supposedly named after an ore of the non-metallic element
Tellurium, legend has it that it was derived differently—because of the Native American presence throughout the land, settlers were forced to
enter the town by riding over a rickety bridge, fearing that they would plummet into the gorge below. The bridge was said to shake so
aggressively that "To hell you ride!" quickly became common cowboy credence, hence the contraction Telluride.

It is still believed that assorted saloons in the town of Telluride possess hidden rooms below their bars—perhaps now used for storage, these
rooms were home to distilleries of moonshine during the days of prohibition.

In 1965, the San Miguel County Historical Society set up shop at what is presently the Telluride Historical Museum.

Housed in an 1896 historic landmark hospital building, the museum is said to be haunted by the ghosts of patients past.

Among other historical photographs and exhibits, there is a chest x-ray of a miner’s lung, showing the scarring due to consumption from years
spent underground—the x-ray box is often found with its light off, even when it has been deliberately left lit.

Visitors to the museum regularly report hearing a voice while walking up the stairs to the third floor. A little girl greets them with a quiet "hello" as
they ascend.

When working at the museum alone, the staff reports hearing the footsteps of former patients whose ghosts dwell overhead, where the
operating room of the hospital used to exist.

Source: Telluride & Mountain Village Convention & Visitors Bureau

                                                                              History of the museum:

Established in 1965 as the San Miguel County Historical Society, the Museum operated for more than 30 years within an 1896 historic landmark
hospital building.

A meticulous restoration project was funded in 1995 through a Town of Telluride voter-approved bond measure and several historical grants.

In 2001, the Museum was the recipient of the Steven H. Hart Award, the Colorado Historical Society’s highest honor for outstanding contribution
to historical preservation. Today the Museum serves as a cultural and historical anchor for the town, providing a sense of community in the face
of the town’s unprecedented growth and change.

During the six-year closure to restore the old hospital building, the board and staff created a blueprint for using the eclectic collection of 20,000
artifacts and 2000 historic photographs in contextual settings to tell the story of Telluride’s history.


This fine museum should be the first stop in Telluride for anyone interested in learning about the history of the Old West and seeing its
fascinating Victorian architecture.

Built in 1896 as the community hospital, this beautifully restored facility contains a collection of some 9,000 artifacts and 1,400 historic photos
that show what Telluride was like when the likes of Butch Cassidy stalked the streets.

Exhibits include hard rock mining, with displays of mining equipment and models of mines and mills; the narrow-gauge railroad; the area's Ute
Indian heritage; the history of medical facilities and treatments in Telluride (this was the town hospital, after all); and the development of the
town's AC electric power -- the world's first AC-generating plant was built here in the 1890s.

There is also a replica of a local mining family's cabin in the early 1900s, plus exhibits on the town's Victorian architecture and Telluride's
emergence as a major outdoor recreation destination.

You'll learn about train and bank robber Cassidy and other historic figures from Telluride's past, and see some of the fancy dresses worn by
Big Billie, one of the community's leading madams during the town's red-light days. The museum store is a good source for books on the area's
history -- an especially good local read is Tomboy Bride by Harriet Backus -- and you can rent equipment for a self-guided audio tour of
Telluride . Allow 1 to 2 hours.

(From Frommer's)

Contact info:

Telluride Historical Museum
201 West Gregory Avenue
P.O. Box 1597
Telluride, Colorado 81435

Phone: (970) 728-3344

Hours: Tuesday - Saturday 11am - 5pm; Extended Hours Thursday till 7pm
Summer only: Sunday 1 - 5pm

                              Shadows from the Past ~ First-Hand Accounts of Local Hauntings

The source of this article is from: the Telluride Magazine

(In the Winter 08-09 issue)

By Andrea Benda

I squinted in the dark. My heart raced as I turned to my husband beside me in bed. “What do you see?” My voice was a choked whisper. “There’
s a girl there—there in the bay window. She’s dressed in white.” All I could see was black night and a few stars
through the skylight. Something wasn’t right: My husband doesn’t believe in ghosts. “Maybe it’s a dream.” My voice was thin. “I’ve
closed my eyes twice, but she’s still there,” came his reply.

Only the courageous could sleep after that. I tossed fitfully, but Terry fell into a deep slumber. The next morning, he explained that
the ghost had been sweet and smiling, almost like she was happy and telling him so. He was content; I was nervous. What did this
spirit want?

It is one thing to believe, like I do, that many spirits haunt Telluride. After all, the Utes spent ten thousand years in the valley only to
be driven out by prospectors in the 1880s. Miners swarmed from 25 different countries to seek their fortunes, bringing with them
superstitions and lurid tales of tommyknockers and evil. Their lives were fraught with danger, violence and heated emotions. They
were ousted first by the hard times of the 1920s through the ’40s, and then by a new wave of young counterculture “immigrants”
when the ski area was developed in the 1970s. These changes were abrupt and traumatic. No wonder spirits from those transitions
could not rest.

Holiday bustle took my mind off the vaporous little girl in our bedroom. A few weeks later, my contractor husband had his crew over to
celebrate the season. During dinner, Terry told the story of the little ghost girl and her appearance. After a moment of silence, a
client, whose house on Galena Street Terry was remodeling, spoke up, “When did this ghost appear?” Terry gave the date as a few
weeks before. “Weren’t you working on my house that week?” the man queried. “Of course,” Terry replied. “That’s the week we took
out the walls by your upstairs landing to open up that tiny room.”

The silence was long and heavy. Softly the remodel’s owner said, “That small room has been haunted for years. A long time ago,
there was a fire next door. A young girl was burnt badly and died, but her widowed mother, brothers and sisters survived. Many say
that the little girl’s spirit flew from the fire into that room at the top of my stairs, where she’s been stuck looking for her mother. A few
weeks ago you took those walls down.” I looked around the room at the wide-eyed faces and said, “Oh, that’s why she seemed
happy! She’s been released from her prison. She came to thank you, Terry.” The little ghost girl never appeared again. But this wasn’
t our last ghost…

It was 2 a.m. when I raced to the Telluride Historical Museum to meet the alarm company representatives and a Telluride marshal.
We tromped through the snow looking for evidence of a break-in, and then entered the building, a former miners’ hospital. During the
day, the old hospital’s past—deaths, accidents, sorrows—seemed dim, but this night every shadowy space was crowded with
phantoms. I followed the police into the room where the woven basket coffin, which had held injured or dead miners as they were
carried down the mountain, was propped. Our search revealed nothing missing, nothing amiss. What tripped the alarm? I fidgeted
the rest of the night and the following day at my job as the museum’s director.

When the alarm raised us all at 11 p.m. the next night, I faced the search with trepidation. This was frightening: Some unseen,
unknown force was triggering the alarm. Once again, the chilly black spaces provoked goose bumps and a pounding heart, but there
wasn’t a trace of anything. The alarm specialists agreed to meet with me the next morning for a thorough investigation. The museum
building had been recently restored, and hospital artifacts had been moved carefully off premises during rebuilding. I was leading the
charge to reintroduce treasures to tell Telluride’s story in exhibits, but at this time, the building was virtually empty. Only one exhibit
about healthcare was installed. Board member Carol Kammer had been searching for an x-ray of a lung with scars from silicosis, also
known as “miners’ consumption.” No one wanted to donate the x-ray: Miners’ consumption is a fatal condition that resulted from
inhaling dust and shards of rock and was a stigma to a miner and his family. But Carol had prevailed and found a doctor in Arizona
who forwarded an x-ray for our antique x-ray machine.

When I greeted the alarm company representatives the next morning, they asked if I had done anything differently in the section of
the museum where the alarm had registered. I couldn’t think of a thing. But wait a minute! The x-ray had arrived the day of the first
alarm. I had loaded it in the machine, turned it on to make sure the image was clear, and then turned it off and unplugged it. How
could that have set off an alarm?

One young man from the alarm company told me that his grandfather had died from miner’s consumption and been ashamed of the
disease until the end. How many miners had suffered in this very hospital in the same way? How many had felt it the gravest sign of
weakness to die from scarred lungs? Would any of their spirits protest the x-ray by haunting the museum? We never did explain the
alarms, but after we discussed the terrible disease with compassion for its victims and my desire to share the story of their suffering
through the x-ray exhibit, the alarms ceased.

Not all ghosts are wispy phantoms or alarms. For years, I led schoolchildren on tours of the local Lone Tree Cemetery. We always
started at the first burial site, where Edwin S. Andrus was laid to rest. I’d heard that he was the son of George Andrus, the man who
had sold some of his land for the cemetery. More research unfolded that George Savage Andrus was an assayer and
superintendent of the Pandora Mill and owned four acres of land, known as the St. James Placer, during Telluride’s early settlement.
He was one of the founders of the Masons of Telluride, and his wife, Mary, raised funds for the first church built here. From
newspapers, town histories and headstones, I put the story together. The epitaph on their child’s grave states that he was one year,
seven months and 11 days old when he died. No cause of death is indicated, but health conditions were poor in those days. Many
children were susceptible to scarlet fever, whooping cough or pneumonia. I wished I had found a photograph in my research, but the
possibility of a picture surviving from the 1880s was slim. I imagined that grief for his boy inspired Andrus to sell the St. James Placer
to the Town of Telluride for use as a burial ground. I told that story to hundreds of children over the years as we gazed at the tiny,
unassuming headstone.

Quite some time after I began these tours, I was hired to be the executive director of the Telluride Historical Museum. I knew there
were thousands of old photos in random order, waiting for the project and grant that would instigate organizing and digitizing them.
But I dared not peek at any of these pictures: I knew I would be tempted to neglect my other must-do tasks for the pleasure of
perusing these black-and-white glimpses of Telluride’s past. I stayed away from the files until, one day, I couldn’t resist: I decided to
look at just one photograph. The very first photo I pulled from the file drawer showed an ornate wicker baby carriage with a floral-
print fringed top. A cherubic, plump-faced baby with bangs, big eyes and an impish smile peered out from under a blanket. I flipped
the photo over to read the scrawled writing on the back:
Died April 4, 1885
Edwin Andrus (Little Ned)
Born in Telluride, Colorado.


                            Haunted history: Spooky stories, lamplight museum tour on Thursday

By Heather Sackett, Associate Editor
Telluride News
Wednesday, October 30, 2013

                                        A halloween party at school, 1922. [Photo courtesy of the Telluride Historical Museum]

Haunted History: Spooky stories, lamplight museum tour on Thursday
By Heather Sackett
Associate Editor
Published: Wednesday, October 30, 2013 6:07 AM CDT

The building at the top of Fir Street that houses the Telluride Historical Museum, built in 1896 as Hall’s Hospital, has seen its fair share of
ghastly happenings.

Bottles of 19th century ointments line the walls, along with X-rays of lungs marred by deadly miners’ consumption. A wicker litter used to carry
injured or deceased Tomboy miners down from the hills and into the hospital’s back entrance stands in one corner. The term “basket case,” to
refer to those presumed too far-gone, takes its name from the contraption. If these walls could talk.

It’s not surprising that floorboards creak throughout the 10 rooms — and especially the attic — of the museum. Director of Programs and
Interpretation Cameo Hoyle has heard the shuffling of feet when no one was there and knocking sounds on the walls.

“It doesn’t happen very often but when it does, it makes you think,” she said. “I just took that as my cue it was time to go home.”

The old stone building, which now showcases historical exhibits on electricity, water and mining, is the perfect place to hold spooky Halloween
events. Throughout October, the museum has hosted pumpkin carving, scary movies and cemetery tours in celebration of the supernatural. On
Thursday, the museum continues its month-long Haunted History series with ghost stories by local history buff and thespian Ashley Boling and a
lamplight museum tour.

“Most people know this was a hospital before it became a museum,” Hoyle said. “With a hospital you have deaths and ghost stories. I’ve heard
the community found it to be kind of creepy. There were a lot of stories that came from the museum so I think it just kind of fit.”

Boling will regale the audience with his spooky homespun stories in the outdoor amphitheatre from 7-8 p.m. He will focus on scary tales from the
Tomboy Mine. The dark, cavernous mines that dot the hillsides around Telluride are the perfect setting for eerie tales, Boling said. If you’re
trapped three miles inside an underground tunnel, there’s no telling what you might encounter. Escape and daylight are far away and fear of
the unknown threatens to get the best of you.

“I’m going to make (the stories) up,” Boling said. “They are loosely based on historical narrative, but I’m going to embellish and turn a benign
miner’s day into a frightening tale.”

Boling said he will adapt his stories according to whether the audience wants to be scared stiff or just mildly creeped out, and kids are welcome.
But the content is less important than the delivery. It’s all about the dramatic pauses, Boling said.

“I don’t think the facts are as important as building up the suspense and letting people’s imaginations expect the worst while I’m telling a story,”
he said.

Boling’s storytelling will be followed by a tour through the darkened, haunted halls of the museum from 8-9:30 p.m. Bring a flashlight and a
healthy dose of courage.

Article from 2013

                                                                    KOTO Annual Halloween Party   

Held around Halloween-time each year
At the Conference Center, Mountain Village
Event Hours:  8pm - 1:30am

Celebrate Halloween Telluride style!

A wild and woolly party sponsored by KOTO, the local radio station.  


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