Hiked up to the loneliest, saddest and most beautiful gravesite in Colorado this morning. In the 1880s, Clifford Griffin, the younger son of a rich Englishmen, married below his station and had to flee to America. He left his bride in the east and went to to seek their fortune in Colorado, where he discovered a silver mine of untold riches. Then came word that his wife had taken ill and died. Heartbroken, he would climb to this lookout point every evening and play melancholy tunes on his violin, the music drifting down to the miners in Silver Plume, a 1,000 feet below. Finally, overcome, he shot himself at this spot. In 1889, his grief stricken brother built this monument. Or at least, thats the story an older gentleman in the Silver Plume bakery told me. When in doubt, print the legend. They say on a summer night, you can still hear Clifford playing his violin. You can definitely hear I-70. But you can also hear the steam whistle of the Georgetown Loop every few minutes echoing up the valley. The monuments real enough, and so is the view. A beautiful and romantic spot.
Posted on: Mon, 04 Aug 2014 01:41:10 +0000
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