In the 1880s, if you were Somebody, the place to be was the Hotel de Paris, in Georgetown, Colorado. It was the brainchild of a man who called himself "Louis Dupuy."
Born in France with a different name, he squandered an inheritance with fast living, tried the seminary, culinary school, journalism, the French and American armies – deserting each one. Then an explosion in Silverplume ended his mining career, and Georgetowners took up a collection to support Dupuy – money he used to pop-the-top of a former bakery and turn it into a hotel.
Soon, high-society was checking in, drawn by fine French cuisine, an astounding wine cellar, and lavishly decorated rooms – but only if Dupuy allowed. "This house is my own," he said. "and if I want guests, I invite them in." Which he did, for the crème de la crème, before he died of pneumonia in October of 1900, on a Sunday morning, in Room 13 of the Hotel de Paris.
About Colorado Postcards
Colorado Postcards are snapshots of our colorful state in sound. They give brief insights into our people and places, our flora and fauna, and our past and present, from every corner of Colorado.
