
By Rocky Mountain Voice Editorial Board
In this eighth chapter of The COvid Chronicles, the absurd became policy. You could chant in a crowd but not hold your father’s hand in the hospital. Visiting grandma was dangerous. Rioting, doctor-approved. The week was long. So is the memory of what they let unravel.
By mid-June, Colorado’s citizens, corporations and governing bodies had been cowered into full complicity. The angry activists who long despised democracy finally found their authoritarian moment—and seized it with glee.
It was pure bliss for the non-peaceful “progressive” puritans now in power.
While COVID numbers steadily improved, health providers across the state lobbied to keep patients isolated and suffering—all while marching in lockstep to cure what they claimed was the greater virus: Colorado’s systemic racism.
In this moral crusade, no one was safe and no concession was ever enough. Not municipal associations. Not progressive DAs. And certainly not the average Colorado taxpayer, still reeling from the state’s prolonged government-puppeteered shutdown, left to wonder on what Rocky Mountain summit our common sense—and sense of community—had been sacrificed.
These are the COvid Chronicles for June 8-15, 2020…
COvid Chronicles catch-up
• Introducing The COvid Chronicles: How fear and force reshaped Colorado
• COvid Chronicles April 1-15, 2020: Fifteen days that changed Colorado forever
• COvid Chronicles April 16-30, 2020: From tattletales to tyranny
• The COvid Chronicles May 1–7, 2020: Seven days that set the stage for open rebellion
• The COvid Chronicles May 8–15, 2020: C&C made headlines. Polis made an example. Colorado made up its mind.
• The COvid Chronicles May 16–23, 2020: Deaths dipped—but the definition got slippery
• COvid Chronicles May 24-31, 2020: When ‘peaceful protests’ overruled pandemic policy — and unleashed chaos
• COvid Chronicles June 1-7, 2020: Struggle sessions and Stockholm syndrome rewrite the rules
June 8
With case counts, deaths and hospitalizations all declining, many of Colorado’s control-hungry voices quickly shifted focus to the corporate sphere—and the legal pressure campaign that came with it.
One early signal arrived Monday in a Denver Post guest commentary by Clayton Wire, chair of the Colorado Trial Lawyers Association’s Employment Law Committee. Wire urged elected officials to ensure “reasonable health precautions are made in the workplace for public safety and containing the virus — things like testing, masks and distancing.”
“Pushing to re-open prematurely,” he added, “and giving broad immunity to one segment of the economy is foolish and means both employees and consumers will bear the consequences. It may set our process back, after months of fight(ing) the contagion’s spread.”
Meanwhile, the slow crawl back to normal life—micro-managed by Gov. Jared Polis’ ever-specific edicts—took a particularly absurd turn in one beloved corner of Colorado recreation: climbing gyms.
Per Polis’ rules, gyms were to remain closed unless granted a local variance. But even once approved to reopen, gym owners and climbers were left scratching their chalked-up heads over how to comply with state mandates requiring the disinfection of shared equipment—especially when the “equipment” was the wall itself.
“It is not possible to disinfect a climbing wall and all climbing holds on that climbing wall,” Laura Allured, marketing and communications manager, told the Denver Post’s John Meyer.
June 9
In the wake of the second weekend of post-George Floyd protests, the Colorado Senate passed Senate Bill 217—an expansive police reform and accountability package—by a near-unanimous 32–1 vote. The bill mandated body-worn cameras, banned chokeholds and restricted police from shooting fleeing suspects under the “fleeing felon” statute.
It also required officers to justify stops with objective reasoning, intervene against excessive force, and opened the door for individual lawsuits against officers accused of using excessive force.
The lone dissent came from State Sen. Jerry Sonnenberg, R-Sterling, who objected to the unfunded burdens it placed on rural communities with no history of police brutality.
“How,” Sonnenberg asked, “are small rural forces with a total of three or four officers like Hugo or Haxtun expected to comply?”
Meanwhile, the economic toll of COVID mandates continued to mount. BizWest reported that three beloved Boulder restaurants—The Med, Via Perla and Brasserie Ten Ten—would close their doors permanently.
“With the new economic pressures that the hospitality industry is now facing,” owners Joe and Peggy Romano wrote, “we simply cannot continue to run and operate our restaurants with the level of quality and service that we are committed to providing, and that our guests have rightly come to expect.”
June 10
The push to divert taxpayer funds away from law enforcement gained steam across Colorado. In Colorado Springs, Zoom callers at a City Council meeting urged shifting money to social programs, education, health care and housing.
One of those activists, Jasmine Dunn, took aim at dissenters: if someone hadn’t personally experienced police injustice, she argued, “and you have no idea what we’re talking about, I don’t think you should be on the council.”
The same pattern of catering to the loudest, least tolerant voices played out in Denver. Despite millions in public and private property damage—and widespread violence against police—the Denver City Attorney’s office dropped 320 criminal cases tied to violations of Mayor Michael Hancock’s emergency curfew.
City Attorney Kristin Bronson called the move “part of a non-punitive, restorative approach outside of the court system.”
“While I very much hope that there is never a future need for another curfew in Denver,” she said, “if one is ever imposed, in whatever circumstances, it will be important that our residents take it seriously and comply with it.”
But Denver didn’t stop there. The city also announced it would host a public forum specifically for those charged during the unrest—to “discuss recent protests with police and others.”
Meanwhile, back in the real world where the double viruses of anti-law enforcement dogma and COVID mandates collided, the Outdoor Recreation Roundtable released bleak numbers: across 32 trade associations representing 2 million employees, 88% of businesses had laid off workers, 94% saw decreased sales–and one in four reported sales were down at least 50% from 2019 levels.
This, despite a May surge in outdoor recreation that brought 1.9 million park visits statewide—up from 1.6 million the year prior.
“What I’m hearing from businesses is that nothing will be able to undo the harm of three months of complete closures,” Jessica Wahl, the roundtable’s executive director, told the Denver Post.
June 11
Despite Colorado’s COVID situation remaining stable—just 148 new positive tests reported statewide Thursday and hospitalizations dropping to 168 from 182—the Colorado Hospital Association came out in opposition to a bipartisan bill that would have guaranteed every hospitalized COVID-19 patient the right to at least one in-person visitor.
The association defended its stance to 9News with the ever-compassionate caveat that “the vast majority of Colorado hospitals have exceptions to these restrictions that allow for one visitor at the ‘beginning of life’ and ‘end of life.’”
So not to worry, Coloradans: if you’re being born in a hospital, you might get one visitor (which kind of goes with the territory—babies don’t usually appear out of thin air). And if you’re about to die there, someone might be allowed to say goodbye. But if you’re just seriously ill and desperately want a loved one by your side? Sorry. Loneliness it is.
As the 2020 session wound down, hospital execs leaned hard—and lawmakers caved. The bill was watered down to a polite suggestion. A House committee amended the language so hospitals were no longer required—but merely “encouraged”—to implement more compassionate visitation policies.
“This bill is about humanity and compassion,” said bill sponsor Rep. Tim Geitner, R-Colorado Springs. “The purpose of the bill is to ensure that loved ones can hold each other’s hands at the most critical time of need.”
The original bill noted that many patients without COVID had been forced to suffer alone during treatment for heart attacks, surgeries, traumas and other serious conditions.
“Some have been forced to be alone for the entire course of their treatment,” it read.
June 12
As more data revealed that the predicted COVID surges never materialized, scattered mea culpas began to surface from lockdown-happy officials and media outlets.
In Colorado Springs, this included a front-page Gazette report by Debbie Kelley, who acknowledged that early warnings of the city’s homeless population infecting up to 30% of residents—based on national modeling—simply didn’t happen.
“There’s no definitive answer as to why,” Kelley wrote.
Dr. Robin Johnson, medical director for El Paso County Public Health, told the Gazette that just one man identified as homeless had tested positive for COVID in June at the makeshift shelter set up at Springs City Auditorium. Not a single staff member there was known to have been infected.
Demand for the shelter was so low, it was ultimately shuttered. Of the 44 people the health department said showed symptoms early on, only half were even tested. To top it off, $750,000 in taxpayer money had been allocated to run the facility for three months.
As for why demand and case numbers were so low? Just look at the photo that ran with the article: a sprawling homeless campsite on the Pikes Peak Greenway Trail in March.
Ask almost any Springs resident if their local parks or trails—Greenway Trail, America the Beautiful Park, Monument Valley Park or elsewhere—were overtaken by a surge in illegal camping in spring 2020, and you’d likely hear a resounding yes.
Lax enforcement replaced public order.
Back in Denver, the George Floyd protests continued to reshape the city—this time with government blessing. Officials sanctioned the painting of a massive “Black Lives Matter” mural across Broadway, complete with the words “Remember This Time” spanning an entire Civic Center city block.
Imagine if city officials had backed the painting of “Make America Great Again” on public streets just days after a hypothetical riot where Trump supporters trashed downtown Denver.
Yeah—never would’ve happened.
But this time, they didn’t just allow it. They closed Broadway between 13th and 17th and even installed a new street sign christening it “Black Lives Matter Blvd.”
“There’s a very long history of Black people existing in white spaces, of whiteness encroaching on Black and brown spaces,” lead artist Adri Norris told the Denver Post, crediting hundreds of volunteers.
“We are experiencing anger,” she added. “I am on a regular basis in a low-level state of anger and grief just by being here. And I know that colonialism is everywhere… So I’m going to stay here and try to do my best to change what I can.”
Just days after rioters with similar sentiments defaced city property, the very agency they targeted—Denver Arts & Venues—offered support.
“I think that artists are activists and artists are healers,” said Tariana Navas-Nieves, the agency’s director of cultural affairs. “The arts can soothe our discomfort, but the arts are also meant to create discomfort, to create a space where we can actually look at the tragic history of our country.”
Norris went on to describe the layered struggles she and others faced.
People of color, she explained, were suffering under “the combined forces of COVID and its disproportionate affect on people of color and people who are experiencing poverty…
“And then on top of that,” she continued, “with all the death that is going on, for some reason the police still cannot stop killing us… I’m experiencing unprecedented levels for myself of anger and grief on a daily basis. And it’s a lot.”
She also offered readers a moral lens through which to interpret the riots.
“When people loot,” Norris said, “when people riot, when people attempt to protest peacefully, and those peaceful protests are met with anger… and violence from the people whose job description is to protect and serve, it is not a surprise then that things get destroyed. Because anger and grief has got to come out sometime.”
Translation: taxpayer property—maybe even your private property—is fair game.
“And so the thing that I’m doing is not a counter to the protests, and it is not a counter to the looting and all of the violence that has been happening over the last 14 or 15 days,” Norris concluded.
“This is the other side of the coin. I am working with those people to spread the message my way. They’re doing the message their way. And all of us are being heard.”
June 13
The proverbial pitchforks weren’t just coming for people—they were coming for neighborhoods, too, as Denver continued to coddle increasingly unhinged causes.
Hot on the heels of the Denver school board voting to remove police officers from public schools, board member Tay Anderson took to Twitter with a threat aimed at one of the city’s peaceful communities:
“The neighbors of Stapleton have ONE WEEK to change their name … if they do NOT we will march through their neighborhood to show them #BlackLivesMatter.”
Democracy apparently wasn’t Anderson’s strong suit. Just a year earlier, more than 65% of Stapleton property owners voted against a referendum to change the neighborhood’s name.
Meanwhile, Denver’s left-leaning District Attorney Beth McCann became the next target of protester outrage. Demonstrators surrounded her home Friday night, demanding justice for William DeBose—a 21-year-old Black man fatally shot by police in west Denver on May 1.
Body cam footage, which had already been shown to DeBose’s family but not yet released publicly, reportedly showed DeBose fleeing a traffic stop, pointing a firearm at officers and being shot after a short pursuit.
McCann had been waiting to release the footage until the investigation and autopsy were complete. But just 90 minutes after protesters arrived at her home, she called in live to 9News’ 10 p.m. broadcast to issue a public appeal.
She insisted she shared the protesters’ “desire for justice.”
“It’s important to know that I absolutely agree with them that it is important — I support Black Lives Matter,” McCann said. “I supported the bill that just passed (the state legislature) for police accountability, and I think we’re moving forward.”
One detail the Denver Post didn’t bother to mention? Whether DeBose had any kind of criminal record.
June 14
It didn’t take long for officials in the community formerly known as Stapleton to cave to activist pressure—overriding the clear will of voters in the process.
Just one day after Denver school board member Tay Anderson threatened the neighborhood on Twitter, the 11-member elected Master Community Association announced it was “taking steps to remove the name ‘Stapleton’ as it relates to the community and its operations.”
The ritual submission was swift. In true struggle-session fashion, the association issued a statement using all the approved buzzwords of the new civic religion—pledging loyalty to racial and social justice dogma, even at the expense of voter sentiment, historical context and community tradition.
“The current conversation regarding racism and social injustice has increased awareness and education within our community,” the association wrote on its website. “It has become more clear that continuing with the current name is hurtful to many residents of all backgrounds and life experiences. As a community that aims to foster inclusivity, diversity and respect, maintaining the current name only serves to divide us.”
Everything with the word “Stapleton” on it? Gone. Signage, marketing, official documents—all wiped clean.
“It is our hope that by changing the name of the community, we will send a strong message that we are an inclusive neighborhood that does not support racism, hatred or bigotry,” the statement continued. “Rather, we are a thriving community that values diversity, inclusion, equity and respect, and we encourage others in our community to join us as we stand up against systemic racism.”
But of course, the mob wanted more.
Even sweeping legislation like the repeal of qualified immunity for police officers wasn’t enough for some of Colorado’s most influential progressive operatives.
In a Denver Post commentary, Ian Silverii—executive director of ProgressNow Colorado and husband to future Democratic U.S. Rep. Brittany Pettersen—openly endorsed defunding or “even eliminating police entirely.”
Citing Camden, New Jersey as a model, Silverii claimed the city disbanded its police department in 2012 “due to a deep rot of corruption that made the department completely impossible to reform.”
He praised Camden’s shift “from an adversarial model that promoted violence to a model focused on community policing, mentorship, accessibility, transparency and accountability,” claiming it led to a 73.5% drop in murders—from 87 in 2012 to just 23.
“We’re a long way from the end of this process,” Silverii wrote. “We are at a turning point on the road to transformation.”
What Silverii left out: Camden hasn’t had a Republican mayor since 1936. As of May 2025, only about 5% of the city’s residents—just 400 people—were registered Republicans.
June 15
In a masterclass of Orwellian branding, Gov. Jared Polis announced a new draft of the state’s next regulatory phase, dubbed “Protect Our Neighbors.” How, exactly, were Coloradans to do that? Simple: you no longer had to wear a mask to get a facial, lip wax or a professional shave.
Also back on the table—sort of—were bars, summer camps and county fairs, provided they followed strict occupancy percentages and social distancing guidelines. But no matter what was allowed to open, one thing remained non-negotiable: masking.
“If you want to take that additional risk, be smart, wear a mask,” Polis said, insisting that the state’s improving case and death numbers “reflect people’s decisions to wear masks in public and continue social distancing.”
“The news is only as good as people’s behavior,” he added.
Among those displaying the governor’s favored brand of “good behavior” were health care professionals who somehow found it perfectly acceptable to ban family visits for suffering patients—while cheering on mass protest gatherings.
As Denver Post reporter John Aguilar noted, “a sizable contingent of medical professionals across the country have defended — and even encouraged — the enormous gatherings.” That included Dr. Mark Shrime, a Harvard Medical School surgeon and founder of the Center for Global Surgery Evaluations, who told the Post, “racism is a pandemic in its own right.”
“The role of professionals in medicine and public health is to focus on health and equity, in all its forms,” Shrime continued. “The world currently grapples with two pandemics: that of COVID-19 and that of structural racism. Both pandemics are lethal, and both disproportionately affect Black Americans.”
Several Colorado-based physicians joined more than 1,300 national signatories of an open letter praising the protests for calling attention “to the pervasive lethal force of white supremacy.” Among them: Dr. Lisa Abuogi, a pediatrician at Children’s Hospital Colorado.
“We do not condemn these gatherings as risky for COVID-19 transmission,” the letter stated explicitly. “We support them as vital to the national public health and to the threatened health specifically of Black people in the United States.”
But in the same breath, the letter declared that protests against stay-at-home orders should not receive the same support—claiming those events “not only oppose public health interventions, but are also rooted in white nationalism and run contrary to respect for Black lives.”
And the sharpest slap to Coloradans questioning the state’s glaring double standard? Gov. Polis, through a spokesman, told the Post, “a protest for social justice is not akin to a restaurant opening in defiance of the law”—which he dismissed as a “disappointing publicity stunt.”
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