E-viri
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Polenberg, Richard
Hear My Sad Story, 10/2015Book Chapter
In the early 1920s, Frank Maynard, now in his seventies, continued to make his home in Colorado Springs, Colorado. Over the years, he had joined the Pikes Peak Chapter of the Modern Woodmen of America, and had invested in a speculative gold-mining venture near Cripple Creek. But he had chiefly earned his living as a carpenter and furniture repairman, traveling, when necessary, to construction projects in various parts of the state. Having retired, he still puttered in his workshop and occasionally wrote poetry. In February 1924 he published a wistful poem, a lament for “the days of the old frontier.”
