CENTRAL CITY - The 36th Annual Cemetery Crawl was held on Saturday, August 23, 2025, at the Catholic Cemetery above Central City. 

Folks gathered under the sun, some with umbrellas and chairs, weaving between weathered headstones while actors dressed in old-time clothes portrayed the lives of those long gone. The stories were bleak at times, and the way they were told made the past feel very close.

One of the most memorable stops was at Ellen Flynn's grave. The actor, local Emma Berg, spoke as Ellen herself, a mother who had lived through one heartbreak after another. 

Her son Thomas went into some mining rubble and never came out. Jack was struck at the bottom of the Queen of the West Mine, and her youngest, Joseph, was crushed trying to jump onto a train in Idaho Springs. Joseph was only twenty. 

Even while he was being rushed to Denver, he asked the men not to tell his mother what had happened to him. 

Ellen later lost her husband, John, in 1902. His funeral was said to be the biggest in the county, but for her, it meant the end of light in her life. 

By 1908, she had passed away. Hearing her story spoken out loud right there in the cemetery carried a weight you could feel.

An actor told the story of Rosa Gundy, who, with her husband, ran a ranch, raised nine children, and became part of Gilpin County’s community life. She recalled both the sorrow of losing three infants and the joy of raising children who thrived, including a son who became the county sheriff.

We also met Patrick Doyle, a miner in Nevadaville’s Kansas Mine. He fell more than sixty feet when a rope snapped while being lowered into a shaft. 

He survived, but broken ribs punctured his lung, and he was never the same. His story reminded everyone that mining wasn’t just hard work: it was deadly work, too.

Not all the stories were so grim. Mary Partelli’s tale had a lighter touch. She and her husband, Bart, opened the Gold Coin Saloon, and just hauling the bar up the hill by mule became a story in itself.

The saloon stood the test of time and is still remembered as part of Central City’s colorful past. It has its own tradition too. Patrons tossed coins, now dollar bills, up to the ceiling, where they would stick as a kind of donation for local widows and charities. 

A stop at the grave of Angelo M. di Benedetto (1913–1992) paid tribute to the Colorado painter who left his mark with bold strokes and a larger-than-life personality. An actor even painted at his resting place, a fitting nod to a man who dedicated his life to art.

The Crawl also paused at the Beehive Mausoleum, where bodies once waited out frozen winters until the ground could be broken for burial. 

The guide pointed out names scratched into the walls, some more than 100 years old, left behind like whispers in the brick.

This was the first year the Catholic Cemetery hosted the Crawl. Organizers said they never thought the archdiocese would approve, but after a discussion, it turned out to be easier than expected. 

Once it was clear to the Church that the Crawl wasn’t mocking the dead or worshipping Satan, but rather keeping stories alive, permission was granted. 

Gilpin Historical Society members hinted that next year’s crawl may head up to Bald Mountain, near Nevadaville.

As the day wrapped up, it was clear the Cemetery Crawl wasn’t just about history. It was about connection. The actors didn’t just tell the stories; they brought them to life for a short while. Walking away, you felt like you had met these people and taken part in history.

To support the Gilpin Historical Society and attend future events, visit https://www.gilpinhistory.org/.