10 AUGUST 1-7, 2024 westword.com WESTWORD | MUSIC | CAFE | CULTURE | NIGHT+DAY | NEWS | LETTERS | CONTENTS | ing about whatever was on the surface streets. That and other efforts on the store’s part led to a small resurgence during World War II, but by the 1950s, the downscaling of that part of downtown had worn D&F down to the point that the store operated at a loss for some years. And then came William Zeckendorf. Wanting to build his eponymous plaza in downtown Den- ver, the developer bought enough shares of D&F to gain controlling interest, then merged it with rival store the May Company. In 1958, the newly named May D&F abandoned the old store with its legend- ary tower and moved up 16th Street, where it built a new store complete with a hyperbolic paraboloid designed by I.M. Pei. In the years that fol- lowed, the building at Arapahoe and 16th sat unused and passed through several sets of hands, including those of infamous Boulder swindler Allen Lefferdink, who wanted to reopen it as Tower Merchandise Mart, with showrooms where different companies could show off their wares. But that plan, too, disappeared. At one point, it was rumored that the Denver Urban Renewal Authority, which was founded in 1958 with the goal of clean- ing up — and clearing out — downtown, had plans to tear down the Tower. “Denver Post editorial cartoonist Pat Oliphant had this very famous piece that showed a wrecking ball hitting it,” Barnhouse recalls. “I believe that one cartoon is the source of the myth.” In fact, DURA and the Skyline Urban Renewal Authority, established in 1965, had their eyes on the Tower. “DURA had in- corporated the Tower’s silhouette into its own logo,” Barnhouse notes. “They’d also released drawings of the park proposal that featured the Tower as the centerpiece of the whole renewal area. So they never planned to tear it down.” And they couldn’t, because in 1969 the Tower was placed on the National Register of Historic Places. The original store next door was not as lucky. It was demolished in 1971, its signature bricks salvaged and set aside for whatever might come next. Throughout the ’70s, ef- forts were made to fi gure out what to do with the solo tower. For a while, its sole occupant was then-new radio station KBPI, whose owner, Bill Pierson, connected its broadcast antenna to the fl agpole; he loved the de-powered clock so much that he’d walk up eighteen fl oors every day in order to manually wind the mechanism. Later, a local minority-owned bank ex- pressed some interest in the space, but that fell through. There was also talk of folding the historic structure into a new Sheraton Hotel that would use the tower fl oors as individual suites, but that project also moved farther up 16th Street. Finally, in the early 1980s, developer Da- vid French came up with an idea that stuck: offi ce condominiums, a new concept for the Mile High City. The offi ce-condo idea worked for many reasons, not least of which was that an offi ce building only required the one existing stair- well, while residences would have required two, eating up too much of the livable space on each fl oor. Budget issues also played into the use of aluminum storefront doors at the base. In later years, some of the con- dominium owners raised enough money to replace them with the grand revolving doors that are there now — but aren’t original to the tower, as some people believe. Rather, they were salvaged from the former Ford Mo- tors headquarters building in Dearborn, Michigan. Richard Hentzell pur- chased the sixteenth fl oor in 1993, when the city was experiencing an economic downturn, for “a relative bargain.” He’d been fasci- nated with the clocktower since he was a boy in the 1950s and it was still the tallest structure in Denver. In 1995, Hentzell fi led a $100,000 grant request with the State Historical Fund to start restoring the tower’s grandeur. French had handled much of the infrastructure needs, but there was still a lot to do with detail restoration. “The cupola was rotting,” Hentzell recalls, “and the flagpole was non-func- tional. The bell was silent; the exterior brick and terra cotta were blackened from years of soot and grime. On the interior, the lobby marble was scratched and damaged; original light fi x- tures had been sold off by DURA along with the bronze entrance doors.” That grant request was approved, as were several that followed; the Bonfi ls Foundation also helped fund a total of $510,000 in reno- vations. It was a popular cause, Hentzell says. “Everyone knows where you’re located, and they make an effort to come downtown for a visit and to take in the view from the fourteenth-fl oor loggia,” he says. “It gives one a great deal of pride.” These days, what’s now known as the Clock- tower shines with the same passion that’s kept it part of Denver his- tory for over a century. “It’s been a landmark for as long as I can remem- ber,” says Danny Newman, the Denver entrepreneur who bought My Brother’s Bar with his family in 2017. “But I don’t think I ever got to go in and experience it fully until a Doors Open Denver event. I was just blown away by how re- markable and cool it was.” He and his now-wife in- corporated the tower into their wedding. “We held a very fun goth rehearsal dinner up there on a Friday the 13th,” he laughs. “Tarot readers and Ouija boards and everything. It was awesome.” About a year later, the couple saw that the top fl oors were for sale, and wound up buying the top fi ve fl oors for $2 million in 2020. Now they’ve not only opened the space up as a venue for other weddings and special occasions of all sorts, but they’ve partnered with History Colorado to offer regular tours of the Clocktower, so that Denver residents and visitors alike won’t have to wait for a Doors Open Denver-type event to be able to see it. “It’s a special place in Denver,” Newman says. “It was designed to be a place people wanted to see.” And people still get to — thanks to the efforts of a lot of individuals, including the Arcas. “The very fi rst time I went down there,” says Selene Arca, “I was applying for a job. The club was maybe a year old, and I remember walking down the stairs from the 16th Street Mall and fi nding myself in this enchanted space with sparkles and candles and everything. It was like Phantom of the Opera come to life. I just loved it, and wanted to be there all the time.” Soon she was — she wound up marrying Jefferson Arca — and although Garrett retired from the project, the Arcas kept it going as the Clocktower Cabaret, focusing on burlesque and similar programming. “There’s magic down there; people walk in, and you can see the trouble just melting off of them,” Selene says. “And then the joy on their face while they’re watching something crazy on stage. That’s the moment we want to create for people; that’s why we do the shows night after night.” And that’s why the show continues to go on. “We’re trying so hard to stay positive,” Selene says. “We want to be team players. We know the 16th Street Mall is going to be awesome when it’s fi nished. It’s going to be amazing and beautiful. We just want to still be here when it happens.” Lonnie Hanzon, who’d created the origi- nal look of the venue and oversaw the recent redecoration project, was called in to do the repairs. “Jefferson had a biohazard crew over- night, thank goodness, and the art pieces were unaffected,” Hanzon says. “The place looks better than ever, but jeez, what a mess!” “I feel really sorry for the employees and performers who didn’t get to work their shifts,” says Garrett. “I’ve been in that situation, and when you’re living show to show, it makes it really hard.” But even while the shit- show took center stage in the basement, the exterior of the Clocktower continued to put on a display of digital art, which the Denver Theatre District has hosted for years, changing out the show every month but always offering an illuminating look at the tower. So it goes, top to bottom, then to now: The Clocktower continues to stand. And be- cause no history is lost that is told and retold, it seems fi tting that through all the renova- tion and reconstruction and preservation over the years, the different-colored brick salvaged from the demolished store has remained piled up and waiting to be used. It’s a visual reminder of what was there and what was lost, what remains and what ghosts haunt the streets of yesterday’s downtown, still looking up and marveling at the Clocktower that marks more than just the passage of time. Email the author at [email protected]. Tick Tock continued from page 8 Lonnie Hanzon designed the Clocktower Cabaret. The Daniels & Fisher Tower in downtown Denver. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS ATOM STEVENS PHOTOGRAPHY
