On Saturday, a pair of goats led a crowd of Barnum residents around the west Denver neighborhood to celebrate the life of Kurtis Keele.
Keele, who died on Dec. 1 at the age of 72, could be seen most Saturdays walking the chubby, beaded-eyed goats around the neighborhood, bringing joy to those lucky enough to spot them. The goats belonged to Lowell Street Community Garden, which was opened in 1997 by Denver Urban Gardens.
But to those who knew him best, Keele was more than “Barnum’s goat guy.” Sporting a shaved head and a long gray beard, he was a community builder who cared about his neighbors.
“He started running that community garden and he really built it up to be the heart of the Barnum community,” said longtime friend Mary Adamski.
While most of his work centered on the community garden, Keele was known to his community as a constant helping hand. Several people had near-identical stories of coming home to find Keele working in their back or front yard doing menial tasks, asking nothing in return.
“When I would come home from work, he would be in my yard pulling and planting stuff for me,” Carmen Hernandez said. “He would say, ‘Just do it. You could apologize later.’ So I would come home to new plants in my garden because of him.”
The mile-long memorial walk included frequent stops for the goats to play with passersby — and a lot of stories about Keele. Many people wore tie-dye shirts, a staple in Keele’s wardrobe.
Keele grew up as one of nine siblings and kept his family close throughout his life. Several people on Saturday said Keele helped them develop their own identities. Jason Johnstun, Keele’s nephew, said he always looked up to Keele’s “kindness and giving nature.”
“If you met him for the first time, you were instantly a friend,” he said. “And I met a young lady earlier who said she didn't know him long, and we both looked at each other and said, ‘But you didn't need to.’ You didn't need to know him long to feel his spirit.”
Neighbors say they’ll continue to carry Keele’s welcoming spirit with them
Mary Alice Gerke moved to Barnum with her husband in 2019, and the first person they met was Keele.
“We just immediately loved him,” Gerke said. “He was one of those people who never hid who he was, and he knew that people would either take that or leave that, but most people are drawn to that kind of energy, and we certainly were.”
Gerke said people like Keele make a neighborhood special. She worries if her family leaves Barnum, they won’t be able to capture the close community feel of the west Denver neighborhood.
“I think as we grow as a society, we become more distant because we're more interested in things and those things can keep us apart,” she said. “But Kurtis was one of those people where he very much did not value things. He was way more interested in knowing his neighbors.”
Keele was reverent of acceptance and inclusion — something that rubbed off on people who came to his memorial.
“He taught me compassion and the value of other lifestyles, which were different from how I was raised,” Adamski said. “Kurtis's approach to interacting with other people taught me to open my heart and my mind in his actions. I saw him build a community of peace, love, and tolerance, one human interaction after another.”
Barnum’s community garden could soon include a memorial to Keele
Keele lived openly as a gay man, and could be seen yearly at Denver Pride, bringing his goats along the parade.
A community-led effort could pay homage to Keele. Jeremy Hernandez-Romero, a Boy Scout, said he wants to replace the community garden’s wooden entryway, which is falling apart due to old age. The project, to be painted with the colors of the rainbow, could be Hernandez-Romero’s Life Scout project.
“I'm going to completely remove it because it's damaged and old ,and I'm going to rebuild it and make a roof,” he said. “That's a way to commemorate and remember Kurtis as he was a very prideful person in his sexuality.”
As people gathered, many threw out suggestions for how to immortalize Keele at the garden where he spent so much time. Some suggested renaming the wooden pavilion in the middle of the plot after him. Some wanted to expanded Hernandez-Romero’s entryway project to include a message engraved in marble.
But for many, a physical memorial comes second to the simple act of gardening — a practice that reminds so many people of Keele.
“Kurtis is not going to leave a hole in our hearts,” said Shanon Jewell. “He's left a crater.”
“He couldn’t abide a hole,” responded Adamski. “He’d plant something in it.”