In 1902 Ward had a population of three hundred fifty and advertised
that it had six stamp mills in operation as well as good schools and
churches. The Columbia Hotel opened that year on the street just
below the charming Congregational Church (prominent on the hill).
Just above the church on the highest street level was the railroad
depot of the Denver, Boulder and Western, now a cafe on the
Peak-to-Peak highway.
[Illustration: D.K.P., 1960]
_From Grand Lake_
[Illustration]
Lulu City is the first of our ghost towns to carry the inevitable “city”
in its formal title. Adding “city” to the name of any little group of
four or five log cabins was a habit dear to the hearts of the pioneers
who took part in the trans-Mississippi West movement. Filled with
optimism, they envisaged any stopping place as a sure metropolis.
Witness the number of minute settlements with the imposing adjunct
dating even from 1858, the year before the gold rush to Colorado. For
example there were Montana City, Denver City, Golden City and Boulder
City. Of these the first settlement disappeared completely, and the
three survivors dropped the grandiose appendage.
Lulu City, like Montana City, is the disappearing type. In 1960 it was
not completely gone, but almost. It was platted in 1879 by Ben F.
Burnett who named the town for his oldest daughter. Lulu had only one
good year, but hung on until 1883. After that a few die-hard prospectors
remained. In the four years of Lulu City’s belief that its abundant
silver ore would be rich, it had a large hotel, a store, several
saloons, homes and a small red-light district. Mixed in with the silver
ore found in the mines on the mountainsides to the west, was a little
placer gold flecked through the sand of the long meadow. But neither the
silver nor the gold were worth much. Lulu City’s post office was
discontinued in January of 1886.
According to Mary Cairns, whose 1946 book _Grand Lake: The Pioneers_
pictured much more of Lulu City than can be seen today, one of the
town’s prospectors was so discouraged he said:
“Some day you’ll see nothing but a foot trail along this street.
Raspberry bushes and spruce trees will be growing through the roof of
the hotel yonder.”
[Illustration: Unknown, 1889; D.P.L.]