Review by Martha Quillen
Small-town life – November 2002 – Colorado Central Magazine
Up Here
by Mary Stigall
Western Reflections Publishing Company
Copyright 2002
ISBN: 1-890437-69-7
Western Reflections seems like the perfect publisher for this book, because that’s what it is, a volume of reflections about the author’s life in Lake City. And since I’ve lived in several different Colorado mountain towns, some of the author’s musings struck a chord — and some didn’t.
Stigall and her husband and children started vacationing in Lake City more than thirty years ago, and eventually moved there from the suburbs of St. Louis, Missouri. Her reflections on living and working in Lake City are clearly written and poetic, and the author obviously loves nature and Lake City.
On the whole, Stigall’s book is generally agreeable, but she tends to shy away from unpleasantries — or any kind of deeper examination of life in remote mountain towns. For the most part, her book is an answer to questions asked by old acquaintances and Lake City tourists who can’t seem to understand why anyone would want to live in a remote mountain area all year long.
Thus, the author assures everyone that the winter isn’t really that cold, and that there are plenty of things to do despite the size of her hometown, and that Lake City is safer, and cozier, and offers more of a sense of community than the St. Louis suburbs she came from.
Stigall also writes about how the post office acts as a community gathering place, and how people tend to get so wrapped up in spontaneous conversations on their way to and from home and work, that their cars block traffic. She talks about enduring mud season, and having to light a fire in the woodstove on a cold July morning, and she applauds how helpful people in small towns can be.
— Also, very occasionally, Stigall talks about more difficult things. For example, she writes about the 1994 murder of the Hinsdale County Sheriff, who was a friend to her and her husband and almost everybody else in town. The author reveals how she and other people in Lake City subsequently lost some of their innocence and started to distrust strangers now and again — including some pretty innocuous-looking tourists.
But she concludes: “Our innocence may have died with our sheriff, but we can retain our trust in each other as we try to rebuild our trust in the world outside — with which we are connected, like it or not.”
On the cover of Up Here the publishers ask: “Have you ever wondered if you could leave the city and live in a small town? Have you ever wanted to know what kind of life people really lead in the small “idyllic” communities of the Rocky Mountains and what it is like to be so isolated yet so immersed in community life and nature’s beauty?”
Well, if so, then read another book. Up Here doesn’t actually answer those questions. On the contrary, it only gives a very miniature — and notably optimistic — glimpse into life in Lake City.
Kremmling, the smallest mountain town I’ve ever lived in, was twice as big as Lake City, but we owned a newspaper there that covered much smaller towns, too, and there’s one thing I’m sure of: Moving to the mountains doesn’t magically protect you from difficult neighbors, dishonesty, depression, marital problems, and the like. Moreover, it practically ensures that you’ll be dealing with schools, towns, and counties that are too small and too poor to offer the ultimate — whether that be in services, textbooks, available jobs, animal control, utilities, or sewer systems.
Unfortunately, in trying to assure everyone that living in the Rockies in the winter is not sheer insanity, Stigall pretty much denies that things like unhappiness, crime, alcoholism, and pettiness happen here, and that’s just not true.
So if you’re looking for a book that tells it like it is, try something that dwells less on glistening snow, chilling rain, magnificent views, and golden aspen.
But if you’re looking for a book that reminds you that some people are still very content to live in remote mountain towns, this isn’t a bad choice. Stigall makes you remember the good things: forests, meadows, mountain peaks, quiet, solitude, the smell of wood smoke, the glow of autumn leaves, and the soft beauty of new fallen snow.
Although a lot of readers will no doubt harbor darker sentiments than Mary Stigall, her book encourages reflections upon why we live here.
Obviously, some readers will wonder whether small town neighbors are really friendlier or merely nosier. And they’ll remember that besides being romantic and saving on fuel bills, wood stoves can also be dirty, unenvironmental and bad for allergies. Or they’ll just plain groan in disbelief when Stigall assures them that there are plenty of things to do in mountain hamlets in the winter.
But Up Here makes you think about what you like and don’t like about living in the Rockies, and about all of those good things — like the scenery, the trails, the changing seasons, and the awe-inspiring views — that we sometimes forget in the face of drought-ridden lawns or frozen pipes.
Plus the book is short, a slender eighty-four pages with some lovely black-and-white photos, including a couple of truly glamorous pictures.
Whether you’ll enjoy Up Here or not depends on what you’re looking for. If you’re interested in a positive, breathless tale of falling in love with Lake City and nature then this book is the ticket. But if it’s gritty reality you want, look elsewhere.
