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acowardinmordor · 3 months

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Ignore what I did to ages timelines and canon to make this ficlet work. This is for @eddiezpaghetti and is, I promise, an actual event from my high school life. Mine was the football captain and star quarterback though. 😇

Deep Breath

Eddie was not an athletic guy. It didn’t matter that his fine motor skills were excellent with a pen or his guitar, the big picture version with hand eye coordination and ability to do anything even closely connected to sports was crap. So he never did sports for longer than a few days when he was young enough his mom was still around and encouraging him.

Any accidental skills he learned while wearing a uniform evaporated in the decade since his mom died. Then he met kids who didn’t make fun of him about sports, realized he could have friends without the ‘friendly’ sportsmanship, and Eddie didn’t look back.

Nerd for life. Sports for never.

Then Eddie was turning 11, and his dad had a chance for a ‘great job’ in Colorado. First in Pueblo. Then just north of the border into Wyoming. And then, in a little town halfway up the side of the mountains near Cañon City, while his dad went to Florence most days. Al usually managed to be home a couple nights each week during those years, Eddie found a book called a Player’s Manual and some friends, and that was that.

So, when the mysterious job his dad had been working all that time went bad, and a major news story about an attempted breakout at Florence ADX, when cops showed up to arrest Al, Eddie ran into the trees, up the trail and kept hiding for a day or two.

He wasn’t an athlete, but he knew how to sprint, he knew how to hide, and life with Pops made damn sure Eddie knew how to keep quiet. He was seventeen, and knew some states would try him as an adult for all the shit he’d helped Al do.

Eventually they sent a park ranger with a dog instead of a cop. A few days later, his Uncle Wayne greeted him with a massive hug in Hawkins, Indiana.

The next day, he was enrolled at Hawkins High, as a junior in limbo. Colorado did classes in trimesters, Indiana did them in quarters, and through some kind of Evil Machinations, he had eight registered classes, only two of which were needed to advance to senior year.

The other six?

Theater. Jazz Band. Study Hall. Study Hall. PE. Another Study Hall.

And.

Advanced PE.

He argued that he shouldn’t have to take non-required courses. They informed him about Indiana Laws on Truancy. He argued he’d rather take five Study Halls. They cited policy. He begged to take chemistry and biology instead. They refused.

Thus was the cruel hand of the Universe, demanding he participate in not just one stupid sports ball class — where, at least, there were other nerds to hide with— but a second, where student athletes were put so they had an easy A, and extra time to workout or stretch or whatever.

He skipped the first one and immediately learned about those truancy laws.

The next week, defeated and miserable, but still running late, he donned the grey tone garb, and stepped into Advanced PE.

Which was the exact moment he noticed the first flaw in his previous assumption.

A class full of sporty kids meant a class full of people who ranged from hot to gorgeous to ‘as long as she isn’t speaking’ all bent in amazing shapes as they stretched and warmed up. Including a guy with hair from a commercial and lips that would be borderline illegal in the Bible Belt.

Eddie was definitely going to die of lack of blood in his brain at some point in the next nine sessions of this class.

At least he remained the antithesis of sporty. The polar opposite of whatever Farrah Fawcett had going on. He could lurk and not participate, ogle until his poor bisexual heart broke, and still be good to go into Senior year.

Except. A few more things leading up to the one that really mattered.

The coach was a little annoyed that his star athletes were putting in the minimum effort.

The other kids were shooting him dirty looks.

The coach was pretty good at sussing out the best leverage on teens.

And.

Unlike Eddie, coach knew the natural effect of living at high elevations for six years.

—

And see, it cannot be overstated that Eddie was not a sports-guy. But he did need to run (away) sometimes. Hearing that they were running six laps, at your own pace, was excellent. Then the sweetener: once you were done, you could cool down and be done for the day.

He wasn’t going to sprint, but a quick jog followed by half an hour napping on the bleachers? Yes please.

Whistle blown, clock started, and off they went.

It really, truly, cannot be overstated how much Eddie was not trying to be a little shit or that he wasn’t trying to go fast.

To be fair to Farrah up at the front, none of them were going fast. Eddie didn’t have practice after class like they did, and he badly wanted that napping time.

By the end of the first lap, Eddie and Farrah had pulled away from the others a ways, by the end of the second, Eddie had pulled ahead. And he kept pulling ahead. And ahead. Rolled his eyes as he caught and then lapped the rest of the class. They had some choice words for him as he went by.

Put some extra distance so he wouldn’t have to hear it. Got far enough by lap four he had a good view of Farrah’s ass, and was mentally writing a description for pathetic, but attractive court buffoons to use once he found a dnd group.

The coach was annoyed though, and knew exactly where to push.

“Harrington if the new kid laps you, I’m benching you for the rest of the year and I’ll make Jason Captain in the fall!” Came blaring through a bullhorn.

Farrah Harrington full on stumbled at that, head whipped sideways to stare. Gape? Slow down running as what sounded like a peak-jock-threat was leveled at him.

And Eddie wasn’t trying to be a lot shit at the start of this, but he damn well was now.

Eddie found out later the science stuff, but in the moment he decided it was either magic, or because he was used to dodging things as he ran up poorly maintained hiking trails in the Rockies. Cause now that he was trying?

No damn clue why he wasn’t dry heaving as he collapsed on the track to die.

No clue why he was closing the distance as they went into the last straight of the fifth lap, despite Harrington visibly realizing the coach was serious.

The magic theory was dismissed when Eddie didn’t easily lap the guy. They were around the first turn when Eddie got close enough that Harrington could turn to see him. Farrah was red faced and a little wobbly. Sure, Eddie was sweaty as fuck — it was way too hot for April, there should still be snow! — but he could do it. A little more effort, just enough to close another five feet, and he’d do it. Just about half a lap left. More than enough time. Eddie could be an absolute dick and lap Harrington, then get damn close to catching the rest of the class a second time.

The mere concept of their agony almost had him going for it. Who was he if he didn’t take a moment to gloat though?

He pulled level, tilting his head with a smile the drama teacher called “impressively deranged” planning to stay there until the turn, then actually sprint for the first time without cops behind him.

But Harrington turned to him, out of breath, red faced, plush lipped, with great hair, an ass worthy of songwriting, and gave Eddie the most desperately adorable puppy eyes god or man had ever crafted.

Eddie didn’t freeze, but the guy was hot, and maybe, maybe, he didn’t want to make him sad.

So he wasn’t a dick.

But he was a little shit, and he kept pace the rest of the way round. With his body half turned and awkward. With his dimples going crazy. With every person in the class well aware that it was an act of mercy by the new kid.

He even dropped back at the last second with a wink, letting Farrah cross the line ahead of him.

—

That was how Eddie became both beloved and beloathed by every sports kid on his third day in school. That was how he became the threat the coach used to intimidate the others. That was how the first rumor about witchcraft started.

That was not the day Eddie found out what coach had known.

No, he learned that the next fall, after running from monsters with Steve Harrington to keep a group of nerdy kids safe, overworking himself, vomiting on Steve’s shoes, and then bemoaning his lost magic in front of Dustin Henderson.

Who explained in detail how oxygen acclimatization worked.

—

If you didn’t know: when you live at high elevations, you get used to having less oxygen, so when you are suddenly at lower elevation, your body goes Woah! Free Oxygen! And you can do what Eddie did. It’s not permanent. A month or two if you don’t try to keep it, and it tapers off, but that’s more than enough time for Eddie to be a complete menace to the jocks. I know I was.

And obviously Steve thought this event was sexy, but he’s still with Nancy, and the boy is loyal. Eddie hates himself for not working to keep up his lung capacity the first time he and Steve hook up.

#my writing #eddie munson ficlet #steddie implied flirting?#not sure how to define that #didn’t reread or edit #write this in the tub #because work is insane

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tetramodal · 1 year

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Fire Canyon Acrylic on canvas 8x10". Charles Morgenstern, 2023. The Sangre de Cristo Mountains seen from Oil Well Flats, Colorado.

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thelongview · 1 year

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Details from some of the the 6 Cañon City prisons (see previous post). Clockwise from top left: Fremont Correctional Facility, Skyline Correctional Center, Colorado Territorial Correctional Facility and Centennial Correctional Facility. They are all within walking distance. As usual, use cars for scale.

#prison #architecture #cañon city

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itwasthisorthemilitary · 25 days

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April 5, 2024

Judgement day.

And I couldn’t be happier that my bracket was SO wrong. I hate to admit it, Francisco crushed this.

On April 18th I will be headed to Los Cañones, Panama Oeste. Approx population 200-250. Super rural. Electricity will be an issue but cell service and water are pretty reliable. Xavier knows the town and told me that there’s an orange orchard, a big river, and lots of kids. I’m only about 30 minutes away from Los Mortales.

Along with me in Panama Oeste are 🥁🥁🥁

CAITLIN, Sam, Maddy, Sophie, and Janet. It’s a motherfucking SQUAD. I’m so excited. When the big reveal happened and we all flipped our folders over, Caitlin and I were standing next to each other and it was the most relief I’ve ever felt. That girl is gonna be my neighbor the rest of my life i swear to god. I never believed I’d be in the same region as her and now I’m letting myself be excited. And let me tell you…our families are FREAKING OUT. They are so happy because we are so close. They all cried. Sughedys told me that if i hate my new family i can just come live with her again and we don’t have to tell the Peace Corps anything.

THEN in my packet of information, they mentioned the name of the last volunteer who was in this site, pre covid. Naturally i found him on Instagram in about 7 seconds and started messaging him. He returned to Panama after his service was terminated early due tot he pandemic and now he runs a hotel in Veraguas, Panama. So essentially, he’s amazing. He’s been messaging me all night and says he still goes back to visit Los Cañones because they’re his family now. Every message he sends just elevates this to such a new level of realness. He and his brother are going to visit me the day after I move there to show me around and introduce me to people.

Today felt insane. The anxiety and nerves and energy was really stressful and although I couldn’t be happier and was so relieved, the comedown from all the emotions made me jittery and exhausted. I’m nowhere near Audrey, Liv, or Carlo. We all are making plans to see each other but who knows the reality of how well we will execute those plans. Liv is so far and I know she’s scared because she’s hours away from other volunteers, whereas i can walk to Sam in less than an hour. I’m tempering my excitement around her, but she knows that’s what I’m doing and there’s no way to diminish her fears until she’s there and it all works out. Geographically she’s got one of the coolest sites, so i intend on keeping my visiting pact.

Feeling crazy, and sleep doesn’t want to greet me again. Unfortunate considering I’m headed to Panama City at 6 am tomorrow.

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seraphlune · 1 month

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cañon city, co ♡‧₊˚

#cottagecore #angelcore #fairytalecore #nature #ethereal #angel dust #naturecore #angelic #fairycore

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jojolymes · 1 year

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𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎; arc IV

IV. 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬

next: ࿔*:･ﾟ xxvi. | table of contents

IT WAS SILENT on the hill, save for the thundering hooves of the horses that ran beside Thunderstruck. The sun shone down through the clouds, casting beams of light onto the grassy knolls that surrounded the town overhead. If you looked just hard enough, you could make out the endless flats of land beyond it. There was an earthy smell in the air amidst the musty smell of hay that you recognized was only ever something you smelled in late fall.

You could practically taste the freshness of the air around you as Thunderstruck barreled down the hillside, huffing as she made haste. The leather of the reins rubbed against your gloved hands which only worsened the sweating that coated every cell on your palms. As much as the stress of the race and the fight from earlier had left you somewhat exhausted, there was something invigorating about the way you raced to the finish line alongside your competitors.

"We are now heading downhill on the Rocky Mountains of the third stage! Cañon City! Five kilometers in front of the goal!"

Beads of sweat trailed down your face from the edge of your hat to the bandana that was wrapped around your face. You thought back to the little girl who had rushed after you before the three of you left the mountain. There had been a big smile on her face, despite all the trouble Doctor Ferdinand had caused. When she had run up to you, looking like the farthest thing from a dinosaur, you couldn't help but smile back.

"Wait! Miss- Mister Speedwagon!" Johnny and Gyro had stopped in their tracks at the sound of your name (or rather your last name), watching as the little girl stopped right in front of you, a familiar piece of fabric in her hand. At the sight of it, you had brought a hand to your face, feigning surprise at the lack of a bandana around your nose and mouth.

"Say! Is that my bandana?" you wondered with a playful glint in your eye that Johnny and Gyro had spotted when you peeked at them over your shoulder. Your voice had an uncharacteristic lilt to it, something that made you sound more like a woman than you ever had. It was... odd— at least it was to Johnny and Gyro.

"Yeah!" the little girl exclaimed, gleefully holding up the bandana for you to take, "I found it when I woke up! I 'membered it was very, very, very important so I wanted to find you before Momma noticed I was gone!" Your fingertips just grazed the fabric before you pulled them away, crouching down with your back to her.

"Hey, do you think you could do me a huge favor and put it on for me?" you asked softly, looking over at the little girl to give her a sheepish smile. The little girl's face instantly lit up and she nodded fervently, hands trembling with sheer excitement when you tilted the back of your hat up so that she could properly tie it.

All the while, Johnny and Gyro just watched. They watched as you giggled at the little girl as she patted your cheek before bringing the bandana around your nose and mouth. They watched the corners of your eyes crinkle in delight and how your nose scrunched up whenever you laughed. The way your brows furrowed just slightly when you let out a soft snort when the little girl struggled slightly. By the time they had noticed you reaching back to help the little girl, Gyro had stepped forward, kneeling beside the little girl.

"You having a bit of trouble there, kiddo?" Gyro questioned with a goofy smirk that made you raise a brow. The little girl looked up at him in awe, going quiet as she nodded meekly, handing him the bandana. You froze when his fingers brushed against the apples of your cheeks, slowly moving back to graze the shells of your ears.

Your heart burned, a warmth overtaking every single one of your senses as you sat in silence, keeping your gaze trained on the ground in front of you. As Gyro instructed the little girl on how to properly tie a knot, you heard a low cough. It wasn't until then that you looked up, meeting Johnny's hardened gaze.

Whatever "warmth" you had been feeling instantly turned ice cold. Why was he looking at you like that? Had you done something wrong? When Johnny turned away, spinning his way onto Slow Dancer, you felt gross. It felt as though you were nothing but the dirt below you, insignificant to the man you had been calling your friend. Perhaps all this time, you were wrong.

"Done!" You were snapped out of your thoughts when Gyro gave the little girl a high five, the clap echoing loudly right beside your ear. Gyro was the first to stand up, walking around you to hold out a hand, a grin still plastered on his face. You didn't bother to mirror him with the bandana over your face, but took his hand and let him pull you up. You ignored the warmth of Gyro's hand and instead turned to the little girl who smiled wide at your bandana-covered face.

"You look perfect!" the little girl cried, rushing forward to wrap her arms around your waist, pressing her face into your stomach. You couldn't help but smile and patted the little girl on the head, crouching back down once she pulled away. Not even seconds later, you could hear an older woman shout in the distance, calling what you assumed was her name. The little girl looked back at you and you nodded your head forward.

The little girl smiled, albeit a bit sadly, before running back to where she had last been with her mother. You had been beaming the whole time the little girl kept looking back and waving, and despite the punch to the gut that had been Johnny, you had managed a small smile under your bandana and a wave. Gyro had hopped onto Valkyrie, seemingly in utter bliss for reasons you didn't bother to find out.

"Now that's my beloved horse!" Gyro cooed, patting Valkyrie's neck while you pulled yourself onto Thunderstruck's saddle. "They got away from the dinosaurs at the village and were waiting for us on the other side of the mountain! It's still night but we're heading out now! Diego is still nearby too!"

Diego...

You could feel the tips of your ears grow warm at the thought of him, your heart racing as you adjusted the reins in your hands. Before you could dwell too much on the way he held you so carefully, you hurried to busy yourself with making sure that all the equipment on Thunderstruck was in the right place. Thank god you had been too sick to take off the saddle bags earlier.

"You know... no matter how powerful the saint corpse parts are, their power won't tell you how to become rich," Gyro began, catching both you and Johnny's attention. Gyro adjusted the tack on Valkyrie, continuing his sentence, "or tell you how to make chicks happy or set free a person sentenced to death."

There was something about how Gyro had said it that made you feel somehow put off. How to make chicks happy... It felt odd to hear that but you couldn't put a finger on it as to why. Maybe it just felt odd because he had said such a thing after you had revealed yourself as a ... "chick"? You weren't sure. You figured you must have just been looking too much into it.

"It's still the race that's important. Even if the race itself or whoever is a terrorist, I need to get one hundred points at this stage no matter what! That's what's most important! Let's go, Johnny! (y/n)!"

The second Gyro had uttered your name— your actual one and not your surname— you had faltered. It was just about a second later that you had followed after them both, incredibly focused on the reins in your hand. You focused on the way Thunderstruck moved beneath you and the way the air ruffled the end of your hair. You did not focus on the ache in your chest that made your cheeks burn terribly.

It wasn't long before sixty kilometers had become thirty and then fifteen and then a measly five. You had forgotten sometime around twenty-five kilometers that Johnny had been mad at you and that Gyro had made an out-of-touch comment, too invested in the way the land looked. Whatever fears you had somehow felt nonexistent, as though it had something to do with telling your companions that you were a woman.

You couldn't help but admire the way the ragged, rocky mountains had slowly transformed into rolling hills, adorned with some trees on the horizon. The sun had risen when the three of you had reached the fifteen-mile mark and from then on, the crimson sky had washed out into a blue that could rival any blue sky from days before. Animals had awoken and the birds had chirped their wonderful melody beside the crickets.

Eventually, you started seeing hot air balloons drifting off in the distance. You had yet to hear the (annoying) voices of the announcers but you couldn't help but feel some sort of relief. After a little over twenty-one days, seeing and hearing the hot air balloons were like a godsend. It served as some solace for you, knowing that you would be completing another stage.

"And we witness this strange effect as we approach the goal! It's as if the racers are human magnets! Although they ran 510 kilometers with an estimated race time of seven days minimum, as the sun continues to rise, all of the talented racers gathered together! For some reason, their scattered distances have shrunk! This will be another close one! It will inevitably be another heated battle!"

Just as the announcers had stated, you spotted many of the top racers in line with you, Johnny, and Gyro. It was incredibly strange but it wasn't like any of you had done so on purpose. As you pushed Thunderstruck, you caught sight of Sandman who was running across the grassy terrain like it was nothing but a simple walk through the park. Pocoloco was close to Sandman, smiling as he sat on his horse, completely relaxed.

And then there was Diego. You weren't surprised to see him alongside the others but it didn't stop your cheeks from burning under his less-than-obvious stare. After what had happened in the town, you had half a mind to curse him out for all the dinosaur stuff. It wasn't until Gyro gave you a recap of what happened that you realized that it hadn't been Diego's fault entirely. Johnny wasn't too happy when your anger died down.

Speaking of Johnny— you peeked over your shoulder to see him glaring at Diego. Johnny, despite knowing that Diego had attacked them under the orders of Doctor Ferdinand, was still pissed off at Diego. Apparently, Diego had taken the Corpse Eye after healing you with it and Johnny was still feeling sour over it all. Gyro still had the other eye, however, and that seemed to be at least a tad of consolation.

But surprisingly, the three of them, at some point, had a common enemy. Franz Ferdinand, while you were down and reeling from the effects of turning into a dinosaur and the crippling anxiety of being found out to be a woman, had kicked you out of the way during the fight and had sent you barreling toward the edge of the cliff. It had ticked Johnny and Gyro off so much that it had been easy work getting rid of Franz. Even Diego had withstood helping the doctor after what he had done.

"Aww, so you guys do care," you had cooed as you spotted the other racers riding beneath the hovering hot air balloons. Gyro had rolled his eyes with a grin and had given you a flirty wink while Johnny had looked away from you. Again. He had done it so many times on the ride to the next stage that you should have gotten used to it by now. But you weren't.

It was hard not to notice that Johnny and Gyro had started acting the way they had back when they first met you as (y/n) and not Speedwagon. Hard to notice the "subtle" flirting from Gyro and the irritation that Johnny radiated whenever you spoke. You wanted to say it didn't hurt your feelings, you really did, but it was inevitable when you felt so out of place as a result.

Regardless of that, however, you knew you had to focus on getting over the finish line before anything else. Becoming friends with Johnny and Gyro wasn't going to stop you from trying your best to win the race. And as much as you wanted to support Gyro in getting first place, this was still a competition and you still needed to win. You needed that money.

The other racers had decided to be just as competitive as the other times when you reached the finish lines, but it didn't deter you. You were going to rank as high as you could at this stage whether anyone liked it or not. It was this determination that spurred you and Thunderstruck forward, using Iron Maiden's power to get rid of the wind resistance and effectively allowing you to get a lead on the other racers.

"Wha- (y/n)- Speedwagon!"You couldn't help but laugh when you passed Gyro, waving at him cheekily before pushing Thunderstruck as hard as you could without tiring your sweet horse. You patted her neck with a grin on your face, getting a soft snort in return. Gyro's voice eventually faded into the background as you looked up, keeping your eyes trained on the path in front of you.

You had yet to hear the roar of the crowds from your spot on the other side of the lake but a part of you felt tempted to try and just cut through it. But it was practically impossible unless you cut through the easternmost part of it where it was shallow enough that you wouldn't have to worry about Thunderstruck getting hurt. But if you used Iron Maiden, you could definitely do so without a hitch.

The second Thunderstruck reached the shoreline, you pulled out Iron Maiden, letting her hover within your body while her one hand reached out of your side, repelling all the water away like it was nothing. A rush of sheer bliss rushed through every nerve in your body and soon enough, you and Thunder were crossing through the lake. Not before long, you were ahead of the other three racers that had gone around the circumference of the lake.

The announcers were going wild overhead, saying something about Johnny, Diego, and Gyro all crossing through the lake as well. But just as the announcers commented, pushing their horses through the water would only make their horses tired. Not that it applied to Thunderstruck anymore. Merely a minute later, you had come out the other side unscathed.

"Speedwagon! Speedwagon is in the lead! It looks like he will be the first of these racers to reach the finish line!"

You couldn't help but smile brightly as you grew closer to the finish line. It felt almost unreal. There was no one around you but the crowds of people in the stand, waving banners and flags and signs around. It must have been baffling for them as much as you when you crossed the finish line, winning by far more than a neck like you had before. The cheers were deafening and when you finally realized, you had almost screamed at the top of your lungs.

Minutes later, Johnny, Gyro, and Diego had crossed the finish line, looking far worse for wear than they had earlier. But when you all had stopped, the announcers had said the words you had never wanted to hear less than you had then. After trying so hard to win the stage, it felt as though all your efforts were for naught.

"HOT PANTS HAD ALREADY PASSED THE FINISH LINE!"

#palominosbr #steel ball run #sbr #jojo #jjba x reader #johnny joestar x reader #gyro zeppeli x reader #hot pants x reader #diego brando x reader

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foxfiremagick · 1 year

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Photos from the Royal Gorge Railroad!

#Royal gorge #Royal gorge railroad #Colorado #travel #vacation #Cañon City

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dailyunsolvedmysteries · 1 year

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Theodore Edward Coneys, The Denver Spiderman

The victim’s name was Philip Peters. For the five weeks leading up to his murder he had been staying in his house alone because Helen, his wife, was recovering at St. Anthony’s Hospital after breaking her hip in a fall.

On the night of October 17, 1941, Peters discovered a tall, gaunt, and dishevelled man raiding his icebox. A fight ensued, and the interloper grabbed Peters’s cast iron stove shaker and beat him to death with it before fleeing. Peters was discovered an hour later by his worried neighbors, and the Denver Police were called. They searched the house, but couldn’t find any evidence of the murderer. It was as if he had vanished into thin air. While detectives dug into Peters’s past, searching for enemies who hated him enough to want him dead, Mrs. Peters was eventually released from the hospital and returned home a widow. A good friend of hers moved in to help around the house. In the months following Mrs. Peters’s return, she and her friend reported strange things happening around the West Moncrieff Place house: food missing, strange sounds, things out of place. The friend was convinced the house was haunted and resigned, while Mrs. Peters decided to relocate to Grand Junction to live with her son.

So the house stood vacant, and the strange sounds and disgusting smells continued to be reported to the police, but they couldn’t find anyone in the house. Everything changed in July 1942 once Denver Police decided to station two detectives, Roy Bloxom and Bill Jackson, outside the house and keep it under surveillance instead of waiting for a call from the neighbors. The vigilance paid off when Bloxom and Jackson spotted a man inside the house. They ran inside, but the house was empt y.Until they heard a noise upstairs. They opened a closet door just in time to spot a pair of legs disappearing up into a small opening to the house’s attic. They grabbed the legs and pulled the man attached to them back to the ground. They had caught their man. The suspect was arrested and taken downtown, where he confessed to his crime and told his story.

Theodore Coneys, AKA "The Denver Spider Man", after his arrest in 1942Theodore Coneys was born in Illinois in the 1880s, but came to Denver in the 1910s, where he remained. As a child he had poor health, which continued to plague him into adulthood. Because of his health and perhaps also because of the Great Depression, Coneys struggled to keep a job long-term, and frequently found himself without a place to live except for doorways and alleys around Denver. At some point, Peters and Coneys had become acquainted at the Denver Guitar Club, so one evening Coneys went to the Peters’ house hoping to be able to ask them for some money and maybe something to eat. Unfortunately, this was when Helen was at the hospital and Peters was keeping her company, so no one was home. Coneys decided to break into the house to steal food. A few days later, he tried to do it again but this was when he was found by Peters.

Coneys insisted to police that beating Peters had been a split-second decision. After he had killed Peters, Coneys sought refuge up in the attic, where he stayed until July. Denver Police sent their smallest officer up into the cramped attic where Coneys had made himself a nest of sorts. He had collected his waste and had not bathed during his attic residency, and the stench ended up making the officer vomit. After recovering from losing his lunch, Officer Fred Zarnow said of the attic, “A man would have to be a spider to stand it long up there.” The newspapers heard this, and ran with it. Theodore Coneys was dubbed “The Denver Spider Man,” and a legend was born. Coneys was charged and convicted of murder by a jury and sentenced to life in prison in October of 1942. He was sent to the state penitentiary in Cañon City, and remained there until his death on May 16, 1967 at the age of 84.

#Theodore Edward Coneys #denver spiderman #murder #crime #true crime

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