1976 | Flag Day, Denver
Driving through the Southwest with my pal Jamie, we worked up Phoenix, then Albuquerque, and drove on to Denver to visit two good friends. But first, we headed into the city center, windows down. In spite of the stiff wind, we picked up the faint, driving, syncopated beat of a full-percussion marching band in the Flag Day parade. Jumping to the opportunity, we ditched the car and split up, agreeing to meet later at the parade’s terminus at the State House, where Denver’s signature mile-high elevation is inscribed into the entry steps.
We reveled in the photographer’s dream of teeming streets, and I caught up with Jamie later in a scrum of journalists and other citizens surrounding the Governor before his speech. As Jamie closed in, someone asked him what newspaper he was working for. Uncredentialed but never at a loss, he countered, “How many papers are there in Denver?”