Pioneer spirit springs from dynamic Dyekman

By Dan MacArthur
North Forty News

History is easily dismissed in the furious rush toward a tomorrow little concerned about yesterday.

But the growing ranks of the Pioneer Association are determined to keep history alive by preserving historical landmarks and the memory of those trailblazers who set the stage for those who followed.

That's been the association's goal since it was organized just over a century ago to preserve "Auntie" Stone's cabin, Fort Collins' first home and hotel built in 1864.

In recent years, the association has turned its attention to people as well as places. This year the 350-member group honored Bob Dyekman as Pioneer of the Year for exemplifying that trailblazer tradition through a lifetime of spirited community service.

That spirit shines through in a discussion with Dyekman in the tidy and solid Whedbee Street home he has built for his family over nearly a half century. Although knee replacement squelched his participation in competitive sports, Dyekman at 81 is still a dynamo. He swims mornings and regales in relating tales about his rich life in a community with which he is so intimately connected.

He regards the Pioneer of the Year award as one of the highlights in that life. The others include taking second in badminton in the national Senior Olympics and being honored with scouting's highest honor, the Silver Beaver Award. And, oh yes, there's also his marriage to Shirley and the three trouble-free children they raised, Dyekman quickly adds after his spouse shoots him a reproachful look.

Including their two grandchildren, five generations have lived in the immediate area since Bob's grandparents Cornelius and Mary (Drager) Dyekman moved from Kansas in 1890 to farm just east of Fort Collins. Born here nine years later, his father also farmed for a while until becoming a wrangler on ranches throughout the region.

"He was probably one of the last two cowboys in this area," Dyekman said.

During his dad's stint for the McMurry Cattle Co., the family lived for many years at the company's quarters north of town. Dyekman attended the long-ago demolished Remington Elementary School, Lincoln Junior High School and the spanking new Fort Collins High School.

Their house lacked running water and electricity until the REA brought in power in the mid-1930s, Dyekman recalled. Still, he describes a beatific Fort Collins complete with a swimming hole along the Poudre where kids from everywhere gathered in the summer.

"Small, friendly, nice. Pretty much we knew everybody," Dyekman summed up.

Always the athlete and outdoorsman, Dyekman played baseball and softball and was a member of the state champion high school basketball team. He graduated in 1944 and still gathers monthly with 20 to 30 surviving classmates.

Anxious to join the war effort, Dyekman initially was rejected as too young. He was inducted the following year and shipped out four days before the Japanese surrendered.

Dyekman said the most excitement during his short career as a sailor came when a Japanese submarine surfaced beside his ship to surrender. He also served as a guard at a Guam prisoner of war camp, but said the 1,500 war-weary internees offered no resistance.

Upon his return in 1946, Dyekman attended Colorado A&M College (now Colorado State University), enticed more by the athletics than the academics. He made the baseball team only to be rejected for failing chemistry class. He at least found solace playing intramural basketball.

"That's probably the reason I didn't graduate," Dyekman concedes. "I was having too much fun."

His wayward ways might have kept him from earning a diploma, but it at least resulted in a union with Shirley that will have endured 60 years this December.

She unconvincingly protests the story Bob obviously relishes repeatedly retelling about how he picked her up off the street. Shirley was working as a "number please" operator at Mountain Bell, earning the princely salary of $28 a week - almost double her previous wage at City Drug.

One 10-degree night she and a fellow operator missed the last trolley home and were standing on the corner outside Chinks hamburger joint on Mountain Avenue contemplating the miserable slog home. While cruising the town, Dyekman said, he and his buddy spotted the two and offered them a ride. The rest, as they say, is history.

With the support of family to assist in the upbringing of siblings James, Gary and Sally, she settled into a 35-year career with the phone company. Bob found similar stability after driving a concrete truck, working as a candy and tobacco distributor and operating the city's light and power plant. He retired after 30 years as a letter carrier and supervisor for the postal service.

Through it all he was active in Little League sports and especially scouting, serving 35 years as a Cub and Boy Scout master and chairman of the Eagle Scout Board.

Dyekman also has worked tirelessly for the Pioneer Association, serving two years as president and official photographer for the 2006 centennial book featuring autobiographies and photos of pioneer families and their descendants.

While he frets about the difficulty of attracting new members, secretary Joan Day insists "the association is growing like mad." She attributes it to the increased interest surrounding the centennial and relaxed membership requirements. Potential members must live in the Larimer County vicinity and have been Colorado residents for at least 30 years. Sons, daughters and grandchildren also are eligible for membership. Spouses who do not meet the standards can become associate members.

The group meets in February, May and November, and hosts a Colorado Day members picnic open to the public in August.

Day said the pioneers have been further invigorated by the aggressive efforts of president Maxine Tamlin to gain nonprofit status so they can raise funds for historic preservation projects. She said the group already has come full-circle in partnering with the museum to rehabilitate the Auntie Stone home. Day said plans also are afoot to restore the military memorial outside the former power plant where Dyekman used to toil.

"We need to reach out," he said. "That's what we should be doing, preserving history."