Stepping onto Tennyson Street in 1998 was like entering a time capsule. Having just purchased a home in North Denver, before it became synonymous with upscale development and teardowns, the area was a fascinating mix of old and new. While pockets of charm and long-standing Italian and Hispanic families remained, change was palpable, especially in housing prices. The modest bungalow I once owned near 45th and Irving, now beyond my reach, would likely command five times its price from 23 years prior. Back then, neighborhoods like Highland, Sunnyside, and Berkeley, with their historic enclaves, were in transition, and Tennyson Street mirrored this flux. It was a street steeped in history, with the winds of modernization just beginning to stir. A neighbor likened Tennyson to the emerging 32nd and Lowell scene, then anchored by Common Grounds coffee, Bang! restaurant, and Heidi’s Brooklyn Deli – retail pioneers, now memories, that defined that era. The Chipotle on the corner was a furniture store back then. Yet, Tennyson was vibrant, a community hub, everything those of us near the I-70 hum desired it to be.
But as the saying goes, “Be careful what you wish for.”
Tennyson Street in the 1950s Denver, corner of Tennyson and 41st Avenue, showcasing historic buildings and street sceneTennyson Street in the 1950s, picturing the same corner as the photo that leads this article.
Denver Public Library, Western History Collection/Denver Public Works
When Denverites talk about Tennyson Street, they usually mean the six-block stretch from 38th to 44th Avenue. This was once the bustling retail artery for Berkeley, a stop on Denver’s fondly remembered streetcar line. Its development was undoubtedly fueled by its proximity to iconic anchors at each end: the original Elitch Gardens to the south and the Oriental Theater to the north. In 1998, Elitch’s still stood, abandoned and silent after its closure a few years prior. Much of the park’s structure remained, a ghostly reminder before its relocation to the South Platte River bottom, where Denver’s beloved theme park would begin its more corporate and arguably less charming chapter. The skeletal remains of a roller coaster loomed behind cyclone fences.
Triptych of former businesses on Tennyson Street Denver including Elitch Lanes, vacuum repair shop, and Ward-Carter Dance StudioLeft to right: what was Elitch Lanes, what was the vacuum repair place, and what was Ward-Carter Dance Studio.
Teague Bohlen
However, north of 38th Avenue, Tennyson Street retained its pulse. Parking was plentiful and unmetered as I recall, especially near Elitch Lanes. Bowling alleys, inherently unpretentious, signal a down-to-earth neighborhood. It’s hard to be pretentious in borrowed bowling shoes.
Exterior of Elitch Lanes bowling alley on Tennyson Street Denver, featuring vintage signage and closed doorsYou can almost hear the sad trombone.
Teague Bohlen
That walk along Tennyson Street is when I truly fell for its unique character. Country Gentlemen Liquor on the corner served everyone, cash only, no questions asked. The vacuum repair shop, with its distinctly 60s angled window display, showcased vintage Hoovers. Flesher-Hinton Music displayed gleaming horns, a testament to Denver’s musical heritage. A humble diner, whose name escapes me now, offered breakfast staples for under $3. Ward-Carter Dance Studio was still in motion. Green Door Antiques overflowed with fascinating relics, predating its unfortunate demise in a 2016 fire. A small bookstore, later to become the beloved BookBar, hinted at Tennyson’s literary future. At the street’s north end, across from the Oriental Theater, La Casita, a modest cinderblock shack, served some of the city’s best tamales from a gravel lot. There were undoubtedly other gems I’m forgetting.
But the shop that drew me to Tennyson in the first place remains vivid: my friend John’s comic book store, Highlander Comics and Games. Initially, John’s store was a narrow space on Tennyson’s west side, mid-block, next to that diner. It was long and thin, with a bathroom in the back where the unstable floor discouraged lingering. Yet, it possessed an old-world charm with large storefront windows facing a street still bustling with pedestrians and shoppers, in a pre-Amazon era. I bartered Fridays for store credit, giving John a day off while indulging my comic book passion. I’d chat with the diner ladies during their smoke breaks, shovel snow in winter, and dream of air conditioning in summer.
Residential bungalows along Tennyson Street in Denver Colorado, some showing signs of age and potential redevelopmentNot many bungalows left along Tennyson…and those still remaining won’t be for long.
Teague Bohlen
A year or two later, the diner closed, and John relocated his store across Tennyson Street. The new space was significantly larger, almost too expansive, situated beside a glass company and a custom furniture store. Highlander Comics remained there, John hoping Tennyson’s continued development would draw more foot traffic, justifying the larger retail footprint for a comic book shop. Tennyson evolved around Highlander, but perhaps not quickly enough or in the anticipated direction. John eventually moved again, leaving North Denver for Colfax Avenue near Logan Street. We contributed to keeping Colfax “weird” for a few more years before John pursued other ventures, and I returned to paying for my comics. Meanwhile, Tennyson Street continued its transformation. La Casita relocated to a larger venue on Tejon Street, its original gravel lot replaced by a monolithic apartment complex, one of the first of many to displace long-standing establishments. Bungalows vanished, replaced by new constructions. Diners persisted, but the old-school charm faded, replaced by trendier establishments with unspoken price points. There are bright spots: BookBar thrives, Javier & C’s diner maintains its authenticity at the north end, with Tacos Jalisco nearby. Yet, for the past decade, temporary fencing has been a Tennyson constant, new construction perpetually altering – and often erasing – the old. 2015 seems to mark a turning point, or perhaps the year of resignation. Elitch Lanes closed, Flesher-Hinton relocated to Wheat Ridge, and development accelerated dramatically.
Construction site on Tennyson Street Denver, replacing former Tamales by La Casita location with new developmentWhere Tamales by La Casita once was.
Teague Bohlen
Denver City Councilwoman Amanda Sandoval, a witness to these changes, hopes the zoning overlay passed last year, mandating ground-floor commercial space in new projects along Tennyson, will preserve some of its remaining character. “When that overlay passed,” Sandoval notes, “eight projects had to revise their design review process. We must maintain that neighborhood feel and character. Constituents consistently tell me they moved here for exactly that.”
For Sandoval, this isn’t just policy; it’s personal. Her father founded the original tamale shop at Tennyson and 44th in 1975. She recalls cherished memories of making tamales with her grandmother and father, sometimes tidying up the lot. “It was across from the Oriental Theater, one of northwest Denver’s few historic theaters,” she explains. “It was a missed opportunity not to have complementary businesses across the street. Seeing that building [replacing her father’s restaurant] disregard the environment really spurred the need to amend Denver’s Zoning Code.”
Is it too late for Tennyson Street? That depends on your perspective. Too late to preserve its original anchors and personality, arguably yes. When a bowling alley transforms into a Natural Grocers, a significant shift has occurred. Even Country Gentlemen Liquor eventually closed during the pandemic. A large “THANK YOU” painted on the Tennyson Tap’s exterior wall surely acknowledged its legacy. Old Tennyson had a remarkable run, impacting countless lives for decades. Is it the same now? Not at all. But is it beyond redemption? Absolutely not.
Nicole Sullivan, BookBar’s owner and co-founder of the Tennyson-Berkeley Business Association, views the “canyon of slot homes” on Tennyson as an opportunity. “We can learn from past mistakes and their impact,” Sullivan states. “We must be mindful of creating a vibrant commercial corridor by ensuring retail and restaurants occupy the ground level of new buildings and by preserving existing structures where possible. We need to entice people to walk the entire street. It’s nearly a mile long. We need diverse reasons to start at one end and explore, shop, and enjoy everything Tennyson offers.”
Exterior wall of Tennyson Tap in Denver with a painted "Thank You Country Gentlemen Liquor" mural
Thank you, Country Gentlemen Liquor, you and your Ice Cold Kegs.
Teague Bohlen
Today, Tennyson Street can’t rely on nostalgia alone to attract visitors. Breakfast for under $3 is a distant memory. Dance lessons, bowling nights, or brass instrument shops are relics of the past. Tennyson has, in some respects, been reinvented. Yet, within this transformation lies potential. Even amidst the new, echoes of what was persist in what is and what will be. Tennyson is adapting, Tennyson is beginning anew.
Updated on January 18, to correct the wall on which the THANK YOU appeared.
