Have you ever noticed how kids always want to go to the bathroom every time you go out for dinner or to any location outside of your home?  Well I was no exception and my kids have perfected my childhood  bathroom proclivities.

As a little boy I was known for always going to the bathroom no matter where we found ourselves.  That is not to say I wore diapers for my entire youth, rather I was so well potty trained that I never met a bathroom I did not like, or at least want to check out.   My brother and sisters spared no effort in giving me a hard time about it and no matter how hard I tried not to, I could not resist a visit to a bathroom especially after boredom had set in, which was often the case when dining out.

If time permitted I would make multiple trips to the bathroom during a single visit out.  Visits to friends and family member’s homes were no different but they definitely smelled better than the public restrooms, well sometimes.

The worst thing to happen to a “bathroom aficionado” like me was during one of our many family vacations.  I am not sure where we were or what highway we were on, it really does not matter, but we came up on a flat bed truck with about a dozen “port-a-potties” loaded on it.  Before I could even try and change the subject or diffuse the situation it happened.

“Look dad!  There are a bunch of potties, we better pull over so Doug can use them all” followed by a round of laughter that was hardly funny if you ask me.  Cindy, my oldest sister, had once again created a problem for me that I am yet to live down.

This not to say I stopped my bathroom inspections following that incident, in fact the whole Port-a-potty industry is conspiring against me to this very day.  I would have more to discuss on this topic but I am off to the bathroom, I hear they renovated the one down the hall.

1965 – 1970

We have all made mistakes over the years and I am certainly no exception.  Like the scene in “A Christmas Story”, I have fallen victim to my own errors in judgment when it comes to putting my tongue on a frozen pipe only to have it stick there.  This and many other adventures took place at the old Aspen Elementary School on Bleeker Street.  The doors on the west end of the school had metal hand-rails on both sides of the steps and as kindergartners it was that door that we waited each morning to enter the school. 

I did put my tongue on the frozen pipe but I was not the only one, names like Stapleton, Comkowich, Hoffman, Wirth and many more could also claim the same act of stupidity.  Suffice to say, it was not the last time any of us did but all the other times were on “dares.”

The playground on the Elementary School was filled with fun year round but in the winter it took on a new dimension.  Big snow piles courtesy of the City of Aspen, Street Department as well as Frank Garish and the crew at the school.  There were usually more than one pile so the “upper classmen, you know, the third graders” did not toy with the younger kids or bully them around.  On a good snow storm my father would come by with his “snow blower” that the City of Aspen leased every winter and build a few piles in a matter of seconds.  At the time these piles seemed like they were 40 feet tall when in reality they were probably no more than three of four feet.

The kids immediately set out to carve slides in to them or play a mean game of “King of the Hill.”  The girls often complained that the boys dominated the hills and when the teachers came out to reserve a hill for the girls they were met with a near riot.  You don’t mess with a gang of elementary school boys. 

Now days snow piles like that would be a lawsuit waiting to happen but back then they were just good, clean fun.  Gone are the days filled with danger on the elementary school playgrounds.

July 1975

This summer day started out like any other, a quick breakfast, and a few chores and out came the scanner.  I used to listen to the scanner, monitoring Denver Center and the Aspen Airport frequencies.  Listening to all the comings and goings of private and commercial aircraft was a favorite hobby of mine.  I even kept a log of the aircraft to see how often they visited our airport.  Soon my log began to show how often the jets of major oil companies were visiting.  Atlantic Richfield, Conoco, Amoco and Texaco were frequent visitors as were jets belonging to CBAS, NBC, Chrysler and Executive Jets International (the company that is now known as NetJets) with their red and blue strips around the fuselage.

Over the summer I got to know Donnie Barr and the rest of the crew in the control tower and they would let me come up and sit quietly in the back and watch all the activity.  During times of slow or no traffic they even let me play with the radar displays.

On this day I had already made plans to go spend a few hours in the tower with Donnie’s blessings and I was unaware of the activities about to unfold.  My mom gave me a ride out to Sardy Field around 10:00am and dropped me off, promising to come get me around noon.

It all started quietly enough, a few small aircraft were in and out along with the constant departure of Dieter Bibbig’s gliders and tow planes.  Around 11:00 N31WS dropped in to take John Denver off to a far off place.  Just as John, his dad and a few other passengers were boarding the Learjet, a call came over the approach frequency – N180AR, a Gulfstream II was inbound.  Minutes later N179AR, a Sabreliner 65, was also inbound.  Things were picking up.  Then another call came in, a less frequent visitor was inbound.  Gulfstream II, N400M, belonging to Daniel Flour or Flour Corporation was about 10 minutes out and was requesting priority handling.  Unknown to me, the tower controllers were expecting this visitor and the Gulfstream was granted the handing they requested.  A call went out to N31WS and all the other aircraft moving about on the ramp to shut down their engines and hold at their present positions.

N180AR and N179AR had landed at this point and were in the process of parking down at the far ramp near the newly completed passenger terminal.  There were all kinds of vehicles and activities down on the ramp where a number of other Atlantic Richfield jets were already parked.  The vehicles included a number of local police, sheriff and unmarked law enforcement cars, all surrounding the arriving aircraft.

As N400M landed it, too, headed for the far ramp and parked a good distance from any of the other aircraft.  Suddenly, the law enforcement vehicles all converged on the arriving Gulfstream.  As all of this unfolded I kept asking Donnie what was going on and never received an answer.  

Almost like clockwork a couple of passengers disembarked from N400M and immediately sped away in the unmarked vehicles.  Minutes later the ramp looked deserted with the exception of a few of the police cars that remained by the jet, guarding it.

After the commotion died down, Donnie looked at me and told me that the wife of the Shah of Iran, Shabanu, Empress of Iran, Farah Diba Pahlavi, had come to town to speak at the Aspen Institute for Humanistic Studies as an invited guest of Robert O. Anderson, then Chairman of Atlantic Richfield (ARCO).  Donnie offered to let me stay the rest of the day of which I was delighted.  A quick call to my mom not to pick me up and I was there for the rest of the day, Donnie even gave me a ride home.

John Denver’s pilot was his father, Henry John Deutschendorf Sr., a decorated Air Force Pilot who was known for his flying abilities as well as his quick temper, informed the controllers of his displeasure with the “ground hold.”  Donnie said nothing to him about what had just gone on.

The departure of N400M around 4:00PM that afternoon went off with the same amount of security and special handling we had witnessed that morning.  It was not until a few days later that anybody outside of the Institute knew of her visit.  Things in Iran were starting to heat up and the need for tight security around her was necessary. 

In 1979 the Shah fell from power.  Over the years, I spent a lot of time hanging out in the tower until security rules changed and my visits were no longer permitted.