WHAT'S IN A NAME?


by Pam North

It's simply a case of mistaken identity, but it has posed somewhat of a
problem for the Shady Ladies of the Central City Motherlode.  Their
dilemma?  Some people take their name quite literally, and come to the
vastly wrong conclusion that this
lively ladies' group might have an illicit and immoral purpose.  In
existence since 1992, the Shady Ladies have been an integral part of
Central City's annual Lou Bunch Days, taking part in the famous
festivities by donning elaborate costumes similar to the
dress of yesteryear's madams and ladies of the evening.  The group's
name was originally chosen to reflect the theme of the event
with which they were so closely associated, but it was all in fun and
they never thought that intelligent people would get the wrong
impression.  After all, if they really were of the "soiled dove" genre,
they would hardly advertise it.   Additionally, in the years since the
formation of the group, they have gone far beyond their initial concept,
and have successfully ventured into serious historical theater
performance, portraying various characters from their research into the
lives of many unconventional women of the West.  They have developed a
fascinating selection of 5-minute profiles of thirty different women,
all of whom were actual personalities who lived unusual lives in the
frontier's early history.  Included in their repertoire are taxidermist
Mary Maxwell, labor activist "Mother" Mary Jones, stagecoach driver
Charlie Parkhurst, Indian captive Olive Oatman, two of Brigham Young's
wives, and other well-known characters such as Belle Star, Cattle Kate,
Isabella Byrd, Doc Susie, Poker Alice and Nellie Bly.  The Shady Ladies'
presentations of these historical vignettes (called their "Survivors"
series) have been widely acclaimed.  The group acknowledges the
important role that prostitutes had in the early days of the west; one
of their characters in "Survivors" is Denver madam Mattie Silks.  They
also have a fascinating hour-long educational presentation, "The Parlor
House," which accurately depicts a lifestyle that is often ignored by
historians, but which was a reality for a large number of women who came
westward, one into which they often were forced as a matter of economics
and survival.

Joan Hemm, founder of the Shady Ladies, has become a little concerned
that more emphasis seems to be placed on the racier aspects of the
group's name, and on only a single dimension of their  multi-faceted
focus.  She fears that they occasionally might be losing opportunities
for presentations of their "Survivors" because of mistaken impressions
of what they're all about.  Recent references in newspapers, such as
"the naughty Shady Ladies," and an editor's caption, "Shady Ladies Go
the Full Monty in Dress," have also been a bit dismaying.  Hemm  decided
to present to the public the question of possibly changing the group's
name, sending a short questionaire to about 350 names on her mailing
list, including newspapers such as the Rocky Mountain News and the
Denver Post.  The recipients of her query were given four options to
choose from on the ballot:   keep the name; change it to the Ladies of
the Central City Motherlode; change it to the Reformed Shady Ladies of
the Central City Mother Lode;  or change it to something else suggested
by the respondent.

So far, 105 ballots have been returned to Hemm (some of them even with
donations), and 85 (83%) of them were overwhelmingly in favor of the
group's retaining their title as the Shady Ladies of the Central City
Motherlode, something Hemm would prefer, since they already have
attained wide recognition with that identity.  The responses were
interesting.  "Changing your name would be as bad as changing the name
of the Bronchos," said one.  "I believe Shady Ladies adds character and
captures people's attention, so I say live with it and continue to
educate writers, publishers and those who would malign your group," said
another.   Dick Kreck, a Denver post columnist, wrote in an article on
1/1/00, "My advice is, don't do it.  We're buried by enough political
blandness.  Hold your heads high, go right on with your charitable work,
and let the "chippies" fall where they may."   One woman took the time
to write a three-page letter which, in part, conveyed her reaction to
seeing the group's "The Parlor House" presentation at the Golden Clear
Creek Museum:  "On that summer day history lived.  For me, it was almost
like time travel."   Other replies were, "Tell your detractors to go
back to Shirley Temple movies and leave you alone;"  "We love you just
the way you are.  I doubt the complainers have come to see you, or they
would know better;"  "People remember your name.  It's cute and catchy.
Embrace the controversy; what a great opportunity!"  As for name change,
one wry comment was, "Do you think anyone would bother to come to see
the 'Women 's History Group'?"  Another suggested only dropping the
Central City Motherlode portion of their name.  Three favored the
addition of the word Reformed to the name; six voted for a total change,
and nine had name suggestions.  Interestingly, the people advocating
change were all Gilpin County residents, seemingly those who should be
the most familiar with the true character and many dimensions of the
Shady Ladies.

The consensus of opinion has strengthened the Shady Ladies' faith in the
integrity of their name, and also in the fact that most people really do
have a handle on what they're all about.   The all-volunteer group has
become, without a doubt, an outstanding representative of Central City
and Gilpin County over the years, and has done much to promote area
history and education about the American West.  There's nothing truly
naughty or shady about these ladies; they have a spotless reputation,
and they're just very, very nice.  We're lucky to have them.