This is the best and most complete history of Applewood, Colorado. The previous research that has been done on this topic has been poor. Many sources I have read on this topic, are just plain wrong. The history has been told by people I do not know or were not very connected to the events. I wrote this for two reasons: To set the record straight as best as it can be. And because I am one of the last people who can and the last who can with the same last name.
Applewood was my childhood wonderland; it was my oasis in the American West that was the focus of my summer vacations. What my cousins, sister, and I knew of as the farm was a fraction of what it had once been. The difference I wasn’t old enough to understand at the time was that what happened on our family farm as it shrunk was a success story. This is, to the best of my knowledge and ability, the history of Applewood and its founders in Lakewood, Colorado. I am the grandson of Myron Teller Bunger, the founder of Applewood Mesa Realty and developer of most of the communities in the area known as Applewood.
I am one of the few remaining who have direct knowledge and experience with the history of Applewood. For this work I drew heavily on the memories of my father, Byron Bunger, and my uncle, Parker Head. I also referred to the original plats for most of these communities.
In the shadow of South Table Mountain, surrounded by the towering cottonwood trees that dominated the farm I knew as a child, I was told tales and a proud accounting of the history that was Applewood and Applewood Mesa Realty. This was my grandfather’s favorite topic of discussion with his six grandchildren. The second favorite was a mine he once owned, but that is an entirely different story.
The Bungers were a product of Wheatridge. They invested in education and the produce business with roots in the region that preceded Colorado being a state. My great-grandfather, Fred Bunger, was a farmer and produce seller in the Denver markets. He would buy produce before the sun was up and carry it via wagon to Denver where there was a farmer’s market at Colfax and Cherry Creek. He became known for good produce and fair deals.
While insisting on education for his children, of which there were nine, he advanced the growth of his home community, Wheatridge. He founded the original Wheatridge Post Office and became its postmaster for many years. He advanced the causes he believed in and stood firm as a rare Democrat in a then Republican region. As a result, he was a delegate for the 1936 election of FDR. His dedication to purpose and commitment to education instilled in his children led to seven of the nine graduating college, including two daughters.
My grandfather followed the path of his father before him and became active in the Denver regional produce market after graduating from Berkley with a degree in forestry. Safeway had come to dominate the former open Denver market where his father had prospered, so my grandfather trucked in produce from the western slope and chose to stay in the Wheatridge market. He opened Bunger’s Cellar, a produce stand on West 38th Ave between Upham and Teller. He prospered there until a fire at an inopportune time forced him to take a regular job with the government to pay back a newly acquired loan to expand. That job with the Soil Conservation Service took him and his young family to Clovis, New Mexico.
Although my grandfather was out of the state for the time being he and his siblings would make a mark on the region well into the future. In the decades to come, the Bungers of Wheatridge would make names for themselves in Denver and other regions. My grandfather became invested in Denver Seed and Grain, that at the time was in the LoDo region of Denver; the signage can still be seen on the brick end of the building that remains in the now trendy restaurant and loft region of the city. Following education as a theme my grandmother, Fannie Mae Bunger, was the only teacher in a two room, six grade schoolhouse at the corner of 32nd and Youngfield. My Great Aunt Berness was the first female superintendent for Jefferson County Public Schools.
The family name is also connected to water through two brothers who sat on the Denver Water Board. Howard Bunger worked for the Bureau of Reclamation and helped develop the Howell-Bunger Valve used in dozens of dams around the world while also designing many dams in Mexico. Mills Bunger, also connected with the Bureau of Reclamation, is considered the grandfather of the Big Thompson Project. He also had an interesting time in WWII as a civilian contractor procuring water for the invasion of Sicily.
In the early 1930s, while my grandfather was still working for the government, he and his older siblings, Howard and Berness, bought a farm from a gentleman named Barnes for $8,000, taking a big risk in the early years of the depression. At the time of the purchase, a man named Carl Heisel lived on and worked the farm. In my grandfather’s absence, he was asked to continue to do so but following the direction my grandfather chose. That farm was between Youngfield St and Union Ave, as far North as 20th Ave and nearly as far South as Colfax Ave.
The farm that included the Lena Gulch and water rights from it, was Box 336, Route 6. This complex designation was the address that appeared on my father’s first driver’s license. It would be many years before it became 1800 Youngfield Street, even then a rutted dirt road. That farm was the basis of what would become Applewood in the decades to come.
The farm that would become the basis of Applewood was not an easy one to work. Although the region was well known for farming, especially wheat and alfalfa, what my grandfather wanted to grow was produce. The farm had hard soil. The farm came with an Allis-Chalmers tractor that was able to pull a plow through only some of the soil. My grandfather resorted to using a team of four Percheron horses. That need for horses eventually drew my grandfather into the horse business as well. What eventually came from the farm and all that effort was white celery with no strings, strawberries, and raspberries as well as the staples of potatoes and carrots. The land south of the Lena Gulch grew alfalfa.
Throughout the Depression as the farm was being developed, my grandfather traveled between Clovis and Denver, hoping to leave the government eventually for the farm in the region he was deeply connected to. In the meantime, he bartered labor and traded horses to keep the farm growing in first the Depression and then the war years. Eventually, in 1942 he did come home to the farm, but had not yet left the government. My father, aunt and grandmother worked the farm while my grandfather continued to travel throughout the war years. While telling his family that he was flying to Washington, the plane he boarded was actually headed south to New Mexico. He never disclosed his role in the war efforts, declaring that Harry S would have to come tell him he could tell his story, but until then, don’t ask. We never did again although it would be more or less figured out by my father later.
When purchased in 1933, the farm came with an Aladdin prefabricated home typically ordered from a catalog that used wood blocks and tree stumps as a foundation. There was also a blacksmith building, an assay office, a schoolhouse, and an old home with a root cellar under it. Locally, this collection of buildings was known as Winfield Acres. I was never able to define it more specifically but an assay office that close to Golden meant it had once been a destination.
The old house was torn down before it collapsed and its root cellar was covered over with model A car frames, rocks and sod to form a roof. That root cellar was still there when the farm sold in 1989. Most of the other buildings were torn down other than the schoolhouse that was moved to 15th Dr and Youngfield St, sitting at an odd angle and became a home. The remaining mail order house was added onto at least three times by the time my father was in high school. He himself converted the front porch into a bedroom when he was 12, so he no longer had to share a room with his younger sister. There wasn’t enough money for insulation at that time.
Photo courtesy of Todd Crowe
In those sparce war years and the years that followed, trading continued as a means to do business more economically. My grandfather loved a good trade. We grew up with an odd collection of things on the farm, from rifles to view cameras and a farm truck that seemed out of place. I owned the view cameras and a .22 rifle taken in trade until 2020. One of the other trades is what gave Applewood its name.
One of his trades was for apple tree seedlings. What he chose to do with those seedlings is plant them in a portion of the farm that had been largely unused because the ground was too hard even for a six-horse plow team. That land was between 20th and the Lena Gulch, West of Union St.
The story that follows is one that was retold many times and by many in my youth. In order to plant the seedlings in the hard ground, holes were made with steel digging pikes and then expanded with homemade dynamite. The process became well known in the region as the sounds and even occasional ground shake was impossible to miss. Seedlings were planted in the new holes. The process aerated the ground and enriched it with nitrogen. It took time, but that orchard grew from an unconventional if not effective start. The trees grew and the farm continued to develop.
The nitroglycerine used to make dynamite was later found in the root cellar when I was clearing out the farm for sale in 1987. Of the long list of unusual visitors to the farm, the bomb squad that came out for the bottle of nitroglycerine may be the oddest.
The portion of the farm that became the orchards was slightly over an 1/8 of a section of land. The trees were given a great deal of attention to encourage a high survival rate. They became the cash crop in time. There were also Cherry trees that would bear fruit on a faster timeline and the occasional pear tree.
As the farm transitioned to an orchard, my grandfather continued to work for the US Government, Bureau of the Budget in the Denver Field office. His service to the government eventually ended when the field offices were closed, and the employees were recalled to Washington. My grandfather resigned to stay in Denver, three years short of full retirement with the US Government.
During those years, the farm prospered as the city grew West. My father remembers developers coming by the farm wanting to buy the land. My grandfather turned them away at first, then questioned them about what they would do with the farm, and how. He asked details about their vision for the farm and how they would convert it into housing. He liked some of their ideas but developed his own vision. Building homes was not new to the Bungers and specifically to my grandfather. He had bought land and built single homes, one at a time on Teller Street south of 38th. What my grandfather was envisioning in relation to the farm, was not homes, but a community.
With family experience and acquired knowledge over his dining room table, my grandfather set out to try his hand at development in 1953. The first homes only took the edge off the farm, along Youngfield Street north of Willow Ln. They only built five homes, but they learned two lessons. They could make a profit, which meant it was a viable idea, and the land development was far easier and more profitable than also building the homes. The second lesson he would apply later.
These first homes had no formal name then, but they had relevance. They gave my grandfather a bankroll to take a larger step. He set out to do what the developers who came knocking on his door wanted to do, only better. The next step would begin to convert his farm into his vision.
The true start of Applewood is found on Willow Ln, Applewood Dr,19th Pl and Ward Ct. These homes were largely built by my grandfather using a builder he had put on salary. They are also the original Applewood homes, although not known by that name at the time. The builder was not what we think of today. In those days, a builder owned a bulldozer as well as hammers, and could lay down brick as well as cedar shingles. This meant that everything from road building to shingles was in-house. These homes as well as the first five would eventually be absorbed into the Applewood Hills Community that came later.
This first project was a mix of spec homes and private lot sales. The concept was proving out, so my grandfather transitioned from being a farmer to a farmer/developer. He never gave up his farmer roots though and often came to business dealings in a shirt and tie with overalls and muddy boots. His suits only came out when he was compelled to make a bigger impression and prompted by my grandmother.
Up to this point he had been doing deals over the hood of a truck or the more formal setting of his dining room table where the dealings included sweets from my grandmother’s kitchen. My grandmother had become known for anything made from apples. The farm was also known for raspberries and the even more desired, black raspberries. These business deals were often sealed with a handshake, but my grandfather knew that was not going to be good enough, and the dining room table would not be formal enough. Just as now, there was a lot of paperwork in real-estate deals.
North of the farm on Youngfield was an office that would be the perfect setting to put his grand plans in motion. 2680 Youngfield St would become the home office for Applewood Mesa Realty. It offered enough space for a receptionist, himself and even an agent or two as well as a meeting room.
I knew this office in my youth and enjoyed sitting behind the desk my grandfather used. The office smelled like carbon paper and cigarette smoke. Still today, I have a paper holder and the embossing plates used to seal deals. We often dropped by the office even after Applewood Mesa Realty was almost done developing. It was a local hub of business and ideas. From behind a grand oak desk in his new office, his deals changed the map.
Applewood Mesa Realty would today sound like a real-estate office, but his office was so much more in that era. From that office and the office at the farmhouse made out of the room that was built by my father for his bedroom, great tracts of land were bought, water rights procured, a gravel pit bought and managed, a utility company was born and sold, and a small empire was built on a previously blank swath of the map.
This is a good time to note, that not all neighborhoods with Applewood in the name, were Applewood Mesa Realty developments. Soon after the Applewood communities took off, there were other builders who adopted the name for their own developments. The name was never copywritten.
As a child, I often walked the streets around the farm. I felt at home there and a permanent connection to the community. It was an important place for me then, offering me a place I felt I belonged and would always be welcome.
Later in my 20s when I lived on the farm taking care of it while it was for sale, I used the tractor to clear the driveways of snow along Willow Lane across from the farm, so residents didn’t have to in the morning. I did so, because I felt my grandfather would have asked me to, were he still alive. I learned the meaning of community there.
The homes on those first four streets cut out of the farm taught my grandfather the business of real-estate development. He took his time and tried to streamline the process and costs. He built around trees and saved as many of the fruit trees as he could. He wanted to maintain the beauty of the lots with mature trees and still harvest them until the properties were sold.
The four streets would take a couple years to play out, but the process allowed him to go back to the same bank he struggled to pay back after his Bunger’s Cellar fire and ask for another loan. His credit and reputation gave him access to a loan that would make the next step possible.
His vision was one that would mix the traditions of the west, with modern expectations of convenience and style. He was moving beyond the vision of the developers that used to stop by the farmhouse. He would build a community unlike any he knew of. The Applewood Ranchettes would soon become a reality.
Around 1959, with a loan secured by a proven business model, additional land west of what is now I-70 was bought from Roe Everett. This land would become The Ranchettes. The concept was that the home lots would be more open and have access to bridle trails with the area zoned for horses. This concept was in line with the 1950s-60s fixation with western culture on radio and TV. The Ranchettes were almost exclusively a land development project for Applewood Mesa Realty, with a set of convenances to keep home designs consistent but unique. The land was bordered on the east side by an airstrip that my grandfather hated due to the noise and a dramatic plane crash that occurred there. A couple of my family members were there after the plane had crashed and had to endure the slow loss of life due to the then, very rudimentary rescue services available. It left a lasting mark on the younger of the two family members who witnessed it.
This crash that made local news was the last straw for my grandfather, so he worked with Jefferson County to have the airfield closed. This eventually became a Hutchinson homes project because the owner of the airfield refused to sell the land to my grandfather.
While developing, my grandfather chose to lay down streets along elevation lines when possible. He preferred winding streets for the feeling of intimacy as well as single story homes so people could age into them. He also felt they were more in harmony with the environment. His vision worked and sales were brisk.
The Ranchettes were opened in stages. This meant that there was always work to be done in development as well as sales. My grandfather managed the development, and my great uncle Mead (named after relative Elwood Mead of Lake Mead fame) came on-board as a sales agent. My grandfather also dealt with the politics of city building. To do so, he became a player in local politics. This put my grandfather in a position like his father. He found himself in the heady world of politics as a fund raiser for John F Kennedy’s presidential campaign. His fund-raising efforts in Colorado garnered him an invitation to the inaugural events. He was also approached to run for office but turned it down.
The business model was sound, but the business was not so sound for family relations. The relationship between Mead and my grandfather was soured by working together. This strain was one that carried many years and I think both regretted. It was not the last of the family to struggle with the visions of my grandfather.
The Ranchettes were not on the city water grid. Consolidated Water that provided the water to western Denver didn’t and had no interest in going west of Youngfield. As a result, my grandfather ran an ad in the Denver Post for many years offering to buy water rights in the Mutual Ditch. Together with a very deep well my grandfather located via water-witching, The Ranchettes and eventually The Mesa was well supplied. To manage this water supply, Applewood Utilities was founded and run by my father Byron for several years.
Eventually the rights and the well were bought by Consolidated and service was provided by them. Consolidated didn’t want the customers, but instead wanted the water rights. Even though the well was no longer his responsibility, my grandfather had us grandkids check on the well cap. This vigilance and sense of responsibility continued to his death. When I lived on the farm in 1986 and 87, I continued to check the security of the cap on the well.
While developing the land in The Ranchettes, the main source of sales was to builders who would either build homes on spec to then sell, or to offer land to customers and build a custom home for them. One of those home builders was Phil Riddell. He bought a lot at a time and designed homes usually on spec. He would then sell them and return the money to develop another lot. In doing so, he had several dealings with Myron Bunger.
This was a terse business relationship as the two men had very different personalities. They were both businessmen, but with very different ambitions. Phil was soft spoken and methodical. He didn’t rush anything, and he did things his way. That last trait is the common trait between he and Myron and partly why they clashed. The reason I know Phil so well, is he was one of the two witnesses to the plane crash, he and his daughter. She would eventually become my mother and Phil my maternal grandfather. My father was also at the plane crash site and that was the first place he saw my mother. Even through his fading memory, my father still remembers seeing my mother then, but they didn’t meet that day.
The next development my grandfather had in mind would be the namesake of the company, Applewood Mesa.
Applewood Mesa, as the name implies, was the vision my grandfather had from early on. It became what he was known for. The land was bought from several sources including Roe Everette and another farmer named Travis. Not all the land was bought at once, so it took many years to play out. Eventually The Mesa would include The Ranchettes and bound by Hutchinson Homes and the new I-70 on the east. The North boundary is 32nd Ave. The absolute south boundary is 20th Ave and the west boundary varies due to Travis developing his own remaining farm but is more or less Indiana St and the rise of South Table Mountain.
The large rock at 32nd Ave and Crabapple Road was placed there by my grandfather. The road was designed with a median to specifically accommodate apple trees. The home on the west corner of that intersection was the model home for The Mesa. It was a Medallion Home which meant it had very modern electronic features for the day, as if a model for the future. This home is very similar to another special home built in Applewood Glen. They were both designed by my father, Byron Bunger.
Other homes on Crabapple Road near 32nd were model homes for builders hoping to build homes on land sold by Applewood Mesa Realty. Some of them featured other futuristic design features for the day. They drew a great deal of attention in the region and were featured in the Post and News.
One of the most unusual things that I grew up being aware of without fully appreciating was that my grandfather wanted young families to be able to afford homes. He also wanted diversity. As the developer, he often wrote loans for the homes or lots when banks refused for financial or racial reasons. Redlining was standard practice in those days. As a result, he carried many notes on homes for many years until he was forced to sell most of them to a bank since he was not federally insured. He managed to maintain considerable control over the loans by requesting an appointment to the bank’s loan committee as part of the deal. He only watched over his original loans.
He personally kept notes on three homes that struggled to pay most often so they would not be foreclosed on.
One of those homes was on Willow Lane near the farm. The woman that owned the house was rather sick so my grandmother would look in on her and bring her food. To prevent my grandmother walking down Youngfield St, my grandfather put a gate in the farm fence along Willow Lane. Later, after the woman passed, her family who inherited the house helped look after my aging grandparents using the same gate going the other direction. The mortgage for that house originally written around 1960 was paid off around 1996. My father by then was the holder of the loan and he wanted me to watch as he signed off the loan, the last official act of Applewood Mesa Realty.
While the Mesa was being developed, the seedlings had long since become grown trees. The apples grown there were Northern Spy, Red Delicious, Red Rome, McIntosh as well as a few others including trees that were grafted to grow apples perfectly suited for cider but were otherwise disgusting. Some of those same trees still exist today. My grandfather developed his own apples, but never patented any. Some of those trees on the lots from the original farm, still bear unique fruit today.
There were many stories retelling my grandfather’s ability to move a straight ladder around an apple tree by ‘walking’ it. He stood it straight like stilts and moved it around the tree to not have to climb up and down the ladder to pick a whole tree. He had a canvas tube connected to his belt that he dropped the apples into, sliding down with resistance to keep from bruising. On the ground they were collected by a second person, often a kid he paid to help out.
My father never developed this skill being more academic than athletic like Myron, so he used a more conventional method but for many years, he would scale ladders leaned against apple, pear and cherry trees. Some farm hands that would come north to the farm for picking season also developed the walking ladder skill, but it was another largely unique thing Myron was known for.
There were cherry trees planted among the apple trees, and they had their own stories involving nets, ladders, magpies and my grandmother’s deadeye shot with a .22 rifle taken in trade. Later it also included a family dog that would retrieve the magpie and drop it in a trashcan.
My grandmother born in 1900, grew up with mostly brothers. She would often go with her father and brothers to hunt rabbit in local fields around their home in Trinidad. The men would be dressed in hunting attire and my grandmother in her gender appropriate dress. After a usual largely unsuccessful effort to hunt down dinner, they would finally give in and give the gun to my grandmother. Within a short time, they could return home with dinner in hand.
This skill never left her, but the later targets became magpies whose quest was cherries. They would find ways under the netting covering the cherry trees and have a field day. From the back porch of the house and a dog by her side, she would take aim with a bartered .22 rifle and drop the aggressor birds. Her dog would then retrieve the bird and drop it in a metal trashcan we learned to not open as children.
Harvest season was also a time when people who were struggling to make mortgage payments, could work for my grandfather and pay off back debt. Much of his harvesting staff was either his residents or families from Mexico who came up many falls to work on the farm. It wasn’t a large staff but about 10 adults and sometimes their children helped out.
As ‘The Mesa’ put my grandfather on the map literally, he used the attention it brought him to develop other land he already owned. The land developed to that point had mostly been owned by himself. The projects that followed would be family projects.
While Applewood is most often connected to The Mesa, most of the other projects were from the original farm or near it. Applewood Glen was 20 acres and co-owned by Bunger siblings Myron, Howard and Berness. This was developed while The Mesa was still being sold through the office on Youngfield St. Applewood Glen included Winfield Dr, Union Dr, Union St and W 18th Dr. These homes and sites were sold from about 1965 into the 1970s.
Winfield Circle was also developed at the same time as The Mesa. It was a small project based on land bought when the pond at Youngfield St and 16th St was built. It had tentatively been called Winfield Acres but is actually block 9 of Applewood Heights. The land was solely owned and developed by Myron Bunger. I knew this loop road well in my youth, having played in the Lena Gulch only feet from Winfield Circle. My cousins, sister and I spent a great deal of time playing in the Lena Gulch we simply called the creek, often drawing the attention of the residents on Winfield Circle.
The creek was included in our perception of the pond on the farm. The pond was man made by my grandfather, twice. The first attempt didn’t work but the second one did and the pond is still there. I learned to fish there and watched the ducks. The best part of the pond and creek was when young ducks grew up there. We cousins called them ‘yellow fuzzies’ and watched them for hours.
Mother ducks would lead them around the pond in circles, building their muscles and skills. The pond drained through a pipe to the existing Lena Gulch below it. The yellow fuzzies would occasionally be caught in the drain’s pull and down the five-inch pipe the fuzzies would go to the creek below. Mom would make a racket and eventually retrieve her lost child. Sometimes when my cousins were there, they would catch the yellow duckling and return it to the pond with the mother duck making the loudest racket you ever heard.
After hearing about these events, my grandfather put a screen over the pipe so that yellow fuzzies could not fall through, so the duck nursery became safer, and we kids would watch over them anytime we were there. As I lived on the farm as an adult, I would often lunch on the bank of the pond with the ducks standing station looking for any scraps that may fall or be tossed in their direction. The last time I left the farm, the last place I said good-bye to was the pond and creek.
Applewood Heights is south of Lena Gulch and was developed in the 1970s. This original filing included Youngfield Dr, Whippoorwill Dr and W 15th Pl. but it later filled in east to the Lena Gulch. Other than Winfield Circle, Applewood Heights was co-developed by Myron and Mills Bunger, again being sold through the office on Youngfield St.
Mills Bunger developed land North of 32nd St spanning from N Zinnia Ct to Braun Ct. These were sold through Applewood Mesa Realty, but I am not aware of a formal Applewood name for the community.
Applewood View and Applewood Shores north of 20th Ave, are not part of the Applewood Mesa development but my grandfather helped them become a reality through Applewood Mesa Realty and its resources. Applewood Knolls was not connected to the Bunger family.
Applewood Hills is a small development south of 20th, including Xenon St, Ward St, and an extension of Willow Ln. This was part of the original Apple Orchards and absorbed the original four streets built earlier as well as the 5 test homes along Youngfield.
Applewood Hills and Applewood Glen as well as Winfield Circle are part of the original two section farm bought in 1933 and soon after. The development of these lands formally ended my grandfather’s time as a commercial farmer.
Also in the late 1960s, Myron Bunger bought a tract of land north of 20th Ave west of Simms. This small tract includes Carmel Dr and was one of the few developments in the area for a long time.
Through the 1960s and 70s, these Applewood communities were built on overlapping timelines and in differing combinations of siblings as investors. My grandmother was also a signer on almost all Applewood Mesa filings. My grandfather wanted to ensure that if he passed away, all his business dealings would remain within family control, and she would be taken care of.
Almost all of the Applewood developments that I know were products of Myron Bunger and Applewood Mesa Realty, was west of Simms, east of Indiana St, one community just north of 32nd Ave and north of Colfax Ave. This region is often referred to as Applewood Valley, a name my grandfather would have liked.
In the heady days of Applewood Mesa, more help was needed. Myron hired an attractive dark haired receptionist. Although my father had seen my mother before, walking into Applewood Mesa Realty as a normal daily act introduced him to my mother. My mother Linda only worked there a short time and was replaced by another future family member.
Phil Riddell worked on other projects in the area that did not include Myron. Phil Riddell designed the strip mall on the east side of Youngfield, north of 20th Ave. The Riddells eventually left Golden and moved to Fort Collins and there, The Riddell Brothers made their own mark on that town, building homes in Terry Shores and their own keynote development, Hill Pond. I find comfort and familiarity there in Fort Collins, but Applewood is where my own family germinated. Turning north on Youngfield from Colfax, always feels like coming home for me.
By the 1970s, Myron Bunger’s eyesight had been ravaged by macular degeneration. The shrinking of his farm allowed him to still work what I knew as a child, even while blind. His degraded sight only slowed him slightly due to the help the help of the office manager June Mallory who came after my mother. She became his driver and paperwork organizer. June would bring papers for my grandfather to sign, using her finger as a prop so he knew where to sign. She looked after my grandparents as well as me when I lived on the farm. No history of Applewood or the Bunger side of my family could be complete without her. She was an angel to most, even if the occasional source of jealousy for my grandmother.
Around 1970 in order to raise the profile of his communities, my grandfather built a home to enter into the Parade of Homes. This was the other home in Applewood designed by my father, Byron Bunger, and still exists today in the Applewood Glen area. This home and its reception in the Parade of Homes raised the exposure of Applewood to a new level.
It was also intended to be the home my grandparents would retire to once the farm was fully developed. This never happened and it was eventually sold. It is also one of most beautiful homes I know of.
The history of Applewood was written in the shadow of South Table Mountain. When I was a child, we would drive up to the top of the mountain via a trail at the end of Old Quarry Rd. On the land he owned on top of the mountain, we would build a fire and make smores while my grandfather recounted his most ambitious idea. His plan was for six ranches on top of the east end of the mountain. The homes would not be large but be beautiful, befitting the view.
This project would have produced addresses that would be among the most desired in the city, then and now. I have no memory of the name of this project, but I do recall an artist’s rendition of the idea. That rendition has been lost to time. The land was also lost when the county stepped in and forced the sale of the land to stop the project. This was hard for my grandfather to take and a source of anguish for him until his last days. He didn’t mind not being able to build the homes as much as the tone of the battle itself and the powerful local family backing the effort. The county made him feel unwanted, and by extension, Applewood.
My own lasting memories of Applewood are magical ones. My sister, cousins and I used to sell my grandfather’s produce along the side of Youngfield Street during the summers in the late 70s and early 80s. Sweet corn was the cash crop, but it was the raspberries and black raspberries that literally stopped the traffic. Those last acres in the middle of Applewood were nirvana for me. I learned to drive on a tractor there and later built my first two racecars on the farm as well. The farm was the center of the Bunger universe in Colorado for decades, but with my grandparents passing, it started to fall into disrepair. I was the last Bunger to call it home.
My father and aunt tried to donate the property to the county if they would make it a park with a plaque remembering my grandparents, but the county refused the plaque. My father and aunt both felt the refusal was residual from the battle over South Table Mountain. I do as well. It would have been nice for our family to return to and visit, having no home of our own remaining in Applewood.
We ended up selling the land to a wonderful couple, eventually building their own dreams on the farm that started so many others. Appropriately, they were architects. The old farm is gone, but a beautiful home sits on its foundation in middle of the community my grandfather created.
The Applewood Mesa Realty office building remains but was later occupied by another business for longer than my grandfather occupied it. I dropped by in the early 2000s and the new owner let me remove the windowpane with APPLEWOOD MESA REALTY painted on it. I still have it.
Although I have cousins still in the state, I am one of the last family members bearing my name to leave Colorado. Applewood has had several prominent residents, but my grandfather would be much prouder of the diversity of the homes and residents, the very slow turnover, as well as the pride that is still obvious in his community. He wanted to be a successful developer but ended up building a legacy. He would be very proud of the ranking Applewood holds in the Denver region and that even in the 2020s, there are still original residents that bought their home from him.
While researching this project, I spoke with several residents who told me they remembered my grandfather. A few spoke of his vision and professional yet friendly demeanor. One also recalled his reputation as a businessman. All spoke with respect and left me with both insight and pride.
My grandmother once taught me, success brings both admiration and adversaries. She told me, building anything means you have to push your vision forward while any who cannot see it, resist it. “Doing the right thing isn’t always what others want done. Your grandfather would have rather failed trying to do what he envisioned, than succeeded by accepting mediocrity”.
One of my lasting memories of my grandfather is of him sitting in his easy chair in the living room while we grandkids looked at a map of Denver on the floor. He asked us if we saw Applewood printed on the map anywhere. When we excitedly pointed it out, he beamed with pride.
He still would today.
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