blast from the past

I got an email last week from a Durango friend that the old New York Bakery exploded. The demise of the 200 year old building was due to a fire two doors down. The pictures on the net were of the bricks from the roofline strewn on the street below.


I used to own the old building and the business it housed. We brought the croissant to southwest Colorado. Albeit a questionable claim to fame, the spirit of the business was to bring new things to a historic small town with tourist traffic that defined it. Every summer, out of towners flocked to the Durango Silverton Narrow Gauge railroad. Excited in the morning and weary in the evening, they wandered Main Street and, when we were lucky, they found our restaurant.

When I got the news, a flood of memories came upon me. So many that I couldn't finish this post. Places are really about people. Enjoy the story of our stop along the journey (read more above) that proves the point:

One night in Anchorage, a few months ago spurred by an email from my friend in Durango, we had fun looking for friends from our ski area days. Turns out, there was an obscure discussion forum post that mentioned John Briner, Skagway, AK. John ran the ski school when we worked at the ski area. We had more fun and drank more beers together than anyone should be allowed. He was there the night we rode the canoe in the powder on Chipmunk Hill and forever tweaked the bow. (Another story, another time.)

The night before we got on the ferry in Haines, we called information and found that, yes, there was a John Briner in Skagway and yes, he was the same one that worked at Purgatory.

We met John in the Red Onion, a bar on corner across from the train station. He walked into the bar looking around smiling so that his eyes squinted just as they always did. His six foot something skinny frame leaned over to hug and shake hands. His lady, Karen, was there to witness our first-time-in-twenty-years reunion. We found a table, ordered the beers and began two days of “whatever happened to” stories.

Like I said, the places we've been are only as memorable as the people we meet.