After seven years of writing about Colorado, I decided it was about time I stopped doing a mere drive-by of this riverside burg, and actually explored it. So I did what I often do: I called up the local museum and hoped to get a talkative person on the phone.

It worked. Paula Manini, the executive director of the Trinidad History Museum picked up the phone herself. Within minutes we were planning my trip. When I got to Trinidad, Manini and her staff laid out a delightful weekend itinerary, and provided illuminating historical perspective that enhanced my appreciation of this town of 9,000.

The first thing to know is that Trinidad is unlike anywhere else in Colorado. Its population is made up of one-third descendants of the original Hispanos, one-third descendants of Italian immigrant coal miners, and one-third everybody else, and it’s been that diverse right from the get-go. American Indians, trappers, soldiers, and travelers mixed on the spot that is now Trinidad because it was a watering hole and resting place along the Santa Fe Trail. (The city takes pride in its Santa Fe Trail roots, and the Santa Fe Trail Historic and Scenic Byway runs right through it.) The spot wasn’t settled, though, until a dozen Hispano families from Moro, New Mexico, moved north to begin sheep ranching along the Purgatoire River in 1860.

Leaders among these migrants were Felipe and Dolores Baca. They did well, and in 1873 traded 22,000 pounds of wool for the nicest house in town, now known as the Baca house. It was constructed of adobe, a reasonable material for the area, but the style is strictly that of a traditional foursquare. (We’ll call the new style “east meets southwest.”) In 1882 Frank Bloom, a banker and cattle baron, built an Empire-styled Victorian manse next door, making the 300 Main Street block the fanciest in town.

The Trinidad Museum includes both the Baca and Bloom House, plus original outbuildings (these now house the Santa Fe Trail Museum) and gardens that surround and connect all these eclectic structures. The gardens tell the story of the history and culture of the area. While visitors might be able to enjoy the grounds, it would be a shame to miss a tour of the museum in the company of a staff member. My experience was greatly enhanced by the accommodating staff; I guess that’s what happens in a small community where visitors arrive in twos and threes instead of in hordes.

The next stop on my heritage tourism adventure was an historic walking tour of Cokedale, founded in 1907 as a company town 11 miles west of Trinidad. For those of you who are familiar with Chautauqua in Boulder, Cokedale feels a bit like that. The architectural similarity is striking; the houses are cottage-sized, close together, all of a similar style with porches and hipped roofs, with a few larger buildings and public spaces in the midst. But while Chautauqua was built as a cool summer sanctuary for teachers and others seeking self-improvement, Cokedale, was built to house coal miners, a decidedly different demographic from the Boulder seekers.

In 1946, the mines shut down and the houses were sold for a song to the miners. Now they’re traded on the open market, and the people who want to be in this outlying community know what they’re getting: peace and quiet, neighborliness, and a view of 200-foot high coal tailings. These black mini-mountains are really quite startling to a visitor. As I left Cokedale, I looked east and across Highway 12 to admire the 350 coke ovens, the largest collection in the state.

Our next stop was the site of the Ludlow Massacre, which took place a few miles north of Trinidad. It was at coal fields near Ludlow that, in 1913, miners went on strike, asking for seven conditions. Six of them were merely that the company follow the existing law, which was flouted at this mine and virtually all others; the seventh was that the laborers be allowed to vote on unionization. The ensuing raid by the Colorado National Guard in April, 1914, led to a few days of destruction and the death of 19 miners and their families. Senator George McGovern wrote his doctoral thesis about the massacre, and this is still one of the best tellings of the tale. Fire in the Hole, a novel by Colorado’s Sybil Downing, is set during the strike and offers an excellent way to understand the era.

Afterwards, we came back to wander through what’s called the Corazon de Trinidad National Historic District – aka downtowns – a district with a surprising number of substantial buildings, a self-guided walking tour, and a free summertime history tour on the “Trinidad Trolley” (719-846-9843 x133). At the heart of the Corazon sits the A.R. Mitchell Memorial Museum of Western Art. I had not heard of this artist, but he must have been quite the bohemian around town from the 1920s. For me, most of the museum warrants a brisk walk-through (unless you like horsey paintings, many of which became covers for pulp western magazines), but the circa 1880 photographic images of Havasupai and Hopi peoples are seared into my mind. Soon enough, the Hopi forbade photography at their ceremonies, and no wonder; these images may be seen as art, I suppose, or as an anthropological record. But for others – me included – they represent an effort to dominate our continent’s people through objectification.

Which leads me somehow to another example of cultures colliding in Trinidad’s past. Nothing remains of a World War II POW camp for German officers near Trinidad but this story that Manini tells. Evidently the Germans from this camp and the Japanese-Americans internees at Camp Amache further east sometimes met on work release assignments. Things got friendly between them, and soon enough three Amache sisters tried to help two Germans escape. Alas, they were caught, and tried for treason.

I’ll close by saying that just as the Denver metro area hardly gives Trinidad a thought, Trinidad hardly gives Denver a thought, either. At least, that’s the vibe: few people there are longing to live in the city. Instead, it’s a well-rooted place, apparently happy being the center of southern Colorado and the site of so much history.

In addition to writing The Enlightened Tourist column for Nexus, freelance writer Wendy Underhill has written features and investigative reports on a number of diverse topics.