By Vic DeMaria
Golden High School Class of 1963 | Colorado School of Mines Class of 1968
The tower had two levels containing signal and communications equipment, was reached via a long and rickety set of wooden stairs, and had a door providing roof access. This was a place I liked because it was even more isolated than my normal haunts, and later on, I lived up there one summer. The tower collected the building’s heat, so I had to keep the door to the roof open for ventilation. A habitual sleep walker, I took the precaution of tying myself to my cot to avoid ending up on the roof in the middle of the night, gazing up at Castle Rock. One night I had the only paranormal experience of my life, lying on the cot with a clear view of the open roof door: a woman appeared in the door, looked at me silently for a few moments and then went back out. I had had many spooky moments in the Armory but I had never seen her before (or since).
The main entrance to the Armory was on the 2nd floor west side; back then there was a huge tree on the north side of the “porch” and a low wall facing the doors rather than the flat porch of today. The porch, treacherous in snow and icy weather, was the embarkation point for my sister and I as we quickly mastered the art of walking around the entire building on the concrete ledge above the first floor – a feat I would not consider today as it reaches pretty high on the 13th St. side, though as my sister said, Doctor Goad’s right there below if you fall, dummy. And in truth that man did stitch me up many a time.
In conclusion I can say, like everyone, my environment growing up in the Castle has had a great influence. My friends were divided into those who thought it was weird and fun, and those who thought it was just weird. It may have been unusual and I may have yearned at times for one more like my friends, but I treasure it 60 years down the road of life, as everyone should.
