Stewardship Means Remembering: Honoring Roy Bourquin

This photograph captures Roy Bourquin standing in front of the former St. Nicholas Hospital in Cripple Creek—now the historic Hotel St. Nicholas. His presence in this image is not incidental. Roy lived and worked at the hospital for more than twenty years, remaining there until his death in 1958, and his story is deeply woven into the history of this place.

Born in 1889, Roy’s early life was marked by severe hardship after a devastating accident left him without both hands and much of his arms. Despite these challenges, his later years reflect a quieter story of resilience, dignity, and belonging. The hospital was not just where Roy worked—it was where he lived, found purpose, and became part of a community.

We consider ourselves partners with the Hotel St. Nicholas, and we wish to honor the people connected to this building as part of that responsibility. We are currently supporting efforts to replace Roy’s weathered wooden grave marker at Mt. Pisgah Cemetery with a proper, period-appropriate headstone, ensuring his story is remembered with care.

To donate to the project, please see: GoFundMe.

Why Headstones Matter

Headstones are more than markers of where someone is buried—they are acts of remembrance. They acknowledge that a life mattered, that a story was lived, and that it deserves to be remembered by future generations.

In historic cemeteries like Mt. Pisgah, headstones also serve as tangible links to the past. They tell stories that might otherwise fade: of hardship, resilience, community, and redemption. When markers are lost, damaged, or replaced with temporary materials, those stories risk being forgotten.

Replacing Roy Bourquin’s wooden marker with a permanent, period-appropriate headstone is a way of restoring dignity and ensuring that his name and story remain part of Cripple Creek’s living history. It is not about monumentality—it is about acknowledgment.

Any funds raised beyond what is needed for Roy’s headstone will help support the ongoing care of Mt. Pisgah Cemetery, preserving the resting place of many others whose stories still deserve to be told.

Remembering the past is not passive—it is an act of care.