Recollections of My Life and Reflections on Times and Events During It: A Memoir by Father W. J. Howlett Main Menu Introduction Table of Contents Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 76 Page 77 Page 78 Page 79 Page 80 Page 81 Page 82 Page 83 Page 84 Page 85 Page 86 Page 87 Page 88 Page 89 Page 90 Page 91 Page 92 Page 93 Page 94 Page 95 Page 96 Page 97 Page 98 Other Writings by Father W. J. Howlett Timeline Howlett Family Tree William J. Howlett Family Tree Maps and Geography: Howlett's First Trip West Fr. Howlett moved with his family to Denver when he was a child, and then moved to St. Thomas Seminary in Bardstown, KY several years later. This map recounts the path he took to get to both places. Maps and Geography: Howlett's European travels Fr. Howlett traveled far and wide during his trip to Europe. Here is a map of the places he recorded visiting. Maps and Geography: Howlett in Paris, 1872-1873 This map shows the locations that Fr. Howlett mentioned visiting while in Paris, France. Maps and Geography: Howlett in London, 1874 This map shows the locations that Fr. Howlett mentioned visiting while vacationing in London, England Maps and Geography: Colorado Missions with Terrain Fr. Howlett's Colorado mission locations, with Colorado terrain. Index Acknowledgements Contributors' Biographies HIST 394 at CUA, Spring 2020

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as clear as a table. It was well named a tumble weed, for the wind had lifted all of them and tumbled them over and over until they were clear of the field and in Timbuctoo for all we know, but we had learned our first lesson in farming in Colorado. Our second lesson was when we found that a two-horse walking plow was of little service in the adobe soil either wet or dry, and the only way to do good work was with a steel riding-plow and three horses. We learned other things that we had not known in Michigan, but we learned fast and practiced our lessons.

          The farm was well located on Clear Creek eight miles from Denver, as Denver was then. Now it is the Mount Olivet Cemetery. Part of the land lay along the creek and the rest was a high level. The winter was mild that year and we prepared our fields for the crops early. I think we sowed about ten acres of wheat, but the seed cost us fifteen cents a pound. As we harvested fifty bushels to the acre the overhead cost was not too much although we did not get that price for the grain after harvest. The land along the creek was fine hay land, and also for vegetables. There we planted our field vegetables, and let me quote the cabbages as samples;- there were heads that weighed (Don’t look incredulous; I weighed them) Fifty Pounds! They were large enough for a County Fair, but they were too common, so we made them into sauerkraut. We learned the science of irrigation easily, and as we had plenty of water, good weather and fine land we made a grand success of our agricultural experiences.

          From our place to the mountains was four miles, but their size made them appear much nearer. Of course we had heard of the strangers who wanted to walk to them before breakfast from Denver. That may not be strictly true, but first experiences made such events quite probable. I well remember my first to them. I went into them to get a load of logs for firewood. The road was the main traveled road to the mines and was well laid out and graded for a mountain road. But in some places the rocks were so high and apparently so insecurely placed that they seemed ready to fall down and I was actually afraid to pass them. I stopped several times to give them time to fall if they would do so, but they stood still and I reasoned that other wagons had passed them and they did not fall, so maybe they would stand until I passed also, and with this hope I shudderingly crept by. Many times in later years, when I was familiar with mountain travel, I passed that way and looked for these dangerous rocks but could never recognize them. It made me think of sin: - How enormous it looks to the uninitiated but how small to those familiar with it!

          During this year Father Machebeuf visited us often and sometimes would stay a day or two. He had special rooms and a

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