I started believing in miracles again the night a Lutheran Hospital ICU nurse from Wheat Ridge pulled over along Route 6 in Clear Creek Canyon. It was dark, and she had spotted what looked like a body lying in the middle of the road. No pulse. No breathing. Half his face gone. The man had been hit on his motorcycle and dragged nearly a mile up the canyon—left for dead.
But that nurse didn’t hesitate. She jumped into action, kneeling beside him despite the blood everywhere. She began CPR, her hands pumping on his chest until, somehow, he came back. His pulse returned, his breathing steadied, and soon the Jeffco Rescue Squad transported him to Lutheran Hospital. I’ve never seen anyone brought back like that. They say nurses are heroes who don’t need capes—and I believe it.
Thanksgiving is upon us—my favorite holiday. A time to express gratitude and wish the best to everyone around us. Yet, while our city builds programs, creates committees, and sets aside funds to promote and protect nearly every culture and demographic, it continues to forget one group. When a giant swastika was displayed on I-70 and nearby cities spoke out loudly against it, Wheat Ridge stayed silent.
It makes me question the purpose and integrity of our IDEA (Inclusion, Diversity, Equity, and Accessibility) Committee—an organization meant to speak out against all forms of hate. If the sign had targeted the Black or LGBTQ+ community, you can bet the outrage would’ve been immediate and visible. The silence this time? Deafening. What a joke!
I also believe Mayor Starker made the right call last month when he shut down the council meeting after a speaker used insulting, hateful language. It showed growth and leadership. After last year’s wave of antisemitic speech, when he allowed the meeting to continue in the name of free speech, he clearly learned a hard lesson. This time, he stood for respect and order. Thank you, Mayor Starker—you have represented our city with pride and integrity.
True sports fans stick with their teams through good and bad. Then comes that magical season when everything clicks—the wins start adding up, and hope fills the air. You catch yourself smiling, believing again. That’s how I feel now.
As for our city? I still believe. I have to. I have to stay hopeful that someday Wheat Ridge will care enough to take real action—that words of support from councilmember Hultin and Mayor Stites will evolve from personal statements into an official city stance.
Because belief, after all, is where change begins.
As always, thanks for reading.
~ Guy
