Cecil E. Hart

Cecil Enis Hart was born in Cleveland, South Carolina on May 6, 1925 to Webb Hart and Ruth Della Hoy. Cecil had two brothers, Everett (also known as Gene), Clifford, and one sister, Barbara. The Great Depression hit hard several years later, causing the Harts and many others to traverse the country looking for any type of work that would sustain their families. The Harts ended up on a farm in Cache, Oklahoma (near Lawton), where Cecil spent his childhood hunting, fishing, swimming in the “crick,” working, and attending school. The farm chores were a priority, which undoubtedly contributed to Cecil’s strong work ethic that he would carry for the rest of his life.

When Cecil turned 18 the world was at war, and he, like most other men of his age, enlisted in the service. Cecil spent three years in the Army Air Force training men to be pilots in a variety of airplanes. His unit was always on the verge of being sent overseas, but the need for them was greater in the states, as airplane technology was rapidly changing and the need for training was constant.

The service brought Cecil to Lowry Air Force Base in Denver, where he would stay for the rest of his life. Ironically, Cecil would later help remodel Lowry as part of his job as a construction superintendant. The war was winding down when Cecil was in Denver. At Lowry, the main activities of the men were fast becoming drinking and playing poker. Cecil sensed that the service was a dead end for him, and he decided to move on to the civilian world at the end of his four-year enlistment.

The post-war years in America were a boon of opportunity for any man that wanted to take the bull by the horns and search for success. Author and newsman Tom Brokaw labeled this group “The Greatest Generation” because of their contributions to the war, and, even more importantly, what they would accomplish post-war. Cecil was the epitome of this group of men, and chose construction as his path to success.

Cecil began working as a carpenter, but the road was not always perfectly smooth. Cecil liked to tell the story of when he and a crew of men were fired from a job building an A-frame house on Yale Avenue, a few blocks west of I-25 (the house is still there). It seems that the men, while roofing the house, would toss out any nail that came out of their pouch that wasn’t facing point-side down. Cecil’s boss was obviously lacking a sense of humor. While working at O’Flaherty Construction, it didn’t take long for Cecil to move to the position of construction superintendent, where he would supervise jobs both small and large in the Denver area. He continued in that capacity at Berglund and Cherne Construction Company. While working for “Cherne,” as Cecil would call the owner, he would oversee the construction of churches, schools, huge retail facilities, and even one of Denver’s architectural gems, the famous Cooper Cinerama Theater on south Colorado Boulevard. It was the early 1960’s, and the Cooper was one of the nation’s first mega-screen theaters. Everything was huge at the Cooper: the lobby, the seats, the screen, and even the candy bars. Cecil was always proud when he finished a job. In 1974, Cherne approached Cecil and told him he was concerned that Cecil was spending too much time on his real estate investment business. Cecil weighted his options of being either a construction superintendant or a real estate investor. It was a no-brainer, and the two parted ways with a life-long mutual respect for each other.

In May of 1948, at age 23, Cecil decided it was time to settle down. He was living in a boarding house on 1007 Pennsylvania Street in the Capitol Hill area of Denver. He was dating a woman who lived across the hall, but he decided he liked her roommate better. It was love at first sight when Cecil met Betty Tarsa from the sleepy town of Holley, New York. They began dating immediately, and on an outing to the mountains Cecil playfully tossed Betty into the water. Unfortunately, Betty had never found time in her life to learn how to swim. Cecil fished her out and married her a few months later on December 17, 1948. After a few years in an apartment, the suburbs were calling, and the two bought a tiny two-bedroom frame house on south Madison Street. It was 1952, and within four years they would add two boys to the mix. Tom was born on December 18, 1953, and Don was born on March 11, 1956. Cecil was always fond of buying real estate, but never of selling it. He still owns the house on Madison Street, which he added on to and remodeled over the years. He was also very proud of the fact that he paid off the mortgage on the house in just a few years. There were only two things in life that Cecil hated: paying interest and paying unnecessary taxes.

One day, while between construction jobs, Cecil was sitting at the carpenter’s union hall waiting to be assigned a job. He noticed a man who was there a lot, but who also seemed to turn down many jobs, waiting for the perfect position. Cecil asked the man how he could afford to not be working. The man replied that he had rental property. “How many properties do you have?” Cecil asked. The man said he had only one; when he moved to his new house he kept his old one, and that provided a nice income for him. Cecil never forgot this, and in the mid 1960’s he bought his first rental property on the corner of Forest Street and Yale Avenue, a couple of block east of the fabled A-frame. He followed it with two more houses in the same neighborhood, one of which he bought with a five hundred dollar down payment which he won in a poker game. But Cecil soon realized that the real money was to be made in apartment buildings. In 1968 he purchased a building he appropriately named “The Clunker,” which was a condemned apartment building adjacent to North High School. Using his construction skills, he rehabilitated the building and managed it for several years before selling it to the high school for use as a football field. He bought the building for what a used Hyundai would cost today, and sold it for ten times what he paid for it. Cecil liked that. He always commented that construction workers would never get rich because they always spent their money on pick-ups, campers, and boats, but he was an astute observer and decided not to follow that path. He took the profits from The Clunker and purchased another apartment building near downtown Denver. This lead to the purchase of more apartments, houses, and even a project where Cecil converted an apartment house adjacent to City Park into luxury condos. Some considered it a risky venture, but Cecil lived by his saying of “no guts, no blue chips.” It was the late 1970’s and America was going condo crazy. He sold every unit within a matter of weeks.

In 1984 Cecil lost his wife Betty to cancer, but he didn’t waste any time looking for love. He soon met the spunky Margarita Mendoza Salcedo, and the two began a romance that would last for over 25 years. They were lovers, business partners, and friends, and Margarita was by his side every day from the day they met. The blended family provided many hours of pleasure for Cecil. He was constantly surrounded by his children, stepchildren, 17 grandchildren, and one great grandchild. Cecil and Margarita also traveled the world together, visiting scores of countries on 6 continents. Cecil preferred unusual trips, like going to Russia, Viet Nam, or visiting a cattle ranch in Argentina.

When Cecil entered his seventh decade and saw most of his friends had retired, he decided that was not for him, and he turned his attentions to investing in farm and ranch property. Cecil bought land in the San Luis Valley of Colorado, and with his son, Tom, started a ranch from scratch. Cecil had come full circle, and was now working the land as his family had done during his Oklahoma childhood, only this time he was determined to make money with the venture. He added more and more cattle, and also land in Texline, Texas, while maintaining his residence in Englewood. Cecil loved the challenge working provided, and did so up until the day he died.

Perhaps Cecil’s best trait was that of caring for people. He always treated people fairly, and never turned away someone in need of help. This was evidenced by holiday gatherings at his house that always included family members, employees, and anyone else who needed a place to go. Cecil was always quick with a joke, and was able to see the humorous side in practically any situation. About a week before he passed away, the nurse at the hospital asked him if he had moved his bowels. He replied, “No, I still have them.”

Cecil dealt with his prostate cancer like he did with everything else in his life: with determination and gusto. He beat the disease for fifteen years, only letting it slow him down in last year or so of his life. But that still did not stop him from doing what he loved best: spending time with his loved ones, eating good food, playing poker, and making money. Two days before Cecil passed away he was playing poker from his bed, and in inimitable Cecil style, he won. Cecil loved life, and life loved him right back.