Back in the late 1800’s many homes in the valley were actually a number of buildings. From the main house to outhouses, coal sheds and detached buildings such as carriage houses or even barns. These were not limited to homes outside of town, I am speaking to the many homes within the city limits.

As Aspen fell into a deep sleep for a few decades, many of these structures along with any abandoned homes were slowly torn down and the wood was used to heat the homes of the last hold-outs that chose to remain in the valley. Over time, land that once contained residences, long since abandoned, were reduced to vacant lots.

The remaining homes managed to keep most of their tertiary structures until carriages were replaced by cars and outhouses were replaced by indoor plumbing and then, even those structures were doomed to be ashes or repurposed wood for new homes. the last of the structures facing their demise were the coal shads and many them survived as storage sheds even into the 1970’s and beyond. That was the case for our former coal shed.

The kids in our family would often hang out in the sheds, almost like private boys or girls clubhouses. My dad used it throughout the years as a place to store truck and tractor parts and the like. Our shed had 2 rooms but I am not sure why, coal was stored in one and I do not know why it was built with the second room but it was used for a time by my Great-Grandmonther as a washroom. Perhaps that is why it was built that way in the firstplace..

Everything it was used for over the years is lost on me but there was one occasion that has stuck in my memory all the way back to when I was 7 or 8 years old. Dead deer hanging from the rafters…

Every year back in the 50’s, or maybe even earlier until the early 70’s there was an annual rite of passage when the men would head off to hunting camp. We all knew that hunting camp was more or lass an excuse for a bunch of men to drink, sleep and plot the solutions to all the world’s problems. Occasionally they would even hunt.

On this particular year the booze must have been scant and the world had very problems since every one of them came home with a deer strapped to the hoods of their trucks. My father apparently offered up the coal shed as a place to hang, cut and quarter their victims. That night in my dad’s garage the keg was tapped, the knives were being sharpened and there was even a little target shooting taking place, yes target shooting. My dad had installed a small shooting range in his garage and it was well used on this night. My how things have changed. Not sure having the kegerator so close the the firing line was a good idea but I was too young and to smart to say anything.

As the night wore on the “hunters” enthusiasm to go carve up their pray waned with every passing ounce of beer consumed. What the kids did not know was that their coal fort was now a macabre warehouse of dead, dripping, deer. We ran through the door in our usual fashion, trying to beat the girls to the punch and ran face first into this horrific scene.

Within the next few days all the corpses were gone and the entrails were no where in sight. As for me I never wanted to play in there again. Thankfully a few months later a play house arrived in our back yard courtesy on Marvin Moriarty although we are not too sure of where it came from or if someone else was missing a playhouse.

NOTE:

I wrote a similar story back on 2009 about this shed and it’s origins but felt it needed more details and a better, but true, telling of a particular event that has a lasting place in my childhood memories. That story is called “Is that a Coal Shed or a Meat Locker?” if you care to go check it out as well.