Back in the mid-1920s, a favorite ‘”tourist attraction” in eastern Colorado was a crude 65-foot tower built on what was reported to be the highest point between New York and Denver.

During the summer months, the tower’s builder and owner, Charles W. Gregory, a retired railroad engineer, is said to have stood at the tower with a bullhorn. As a car approached with its windows rolled down (it was before car air-conditioning) Gregory would invite the motorist and his family to stop, have a “cold pop” and see six states from the top of the tower.

After the visitors refreshed themselves, they could pay a dollar to climb a set of crude steps and take a look. Gregory’s property also included a gas station, restaurant and motel, offering the passing tourist many ways to spend his money.

In the 1960s, Jerry Chubbuck, a man who found many significant fossils in the area, bought the property. He also became successful with “outhouse archeology,” and his searches provided a supply of old bottles, guns, Indian items and other Western artifacts. Chubbuck added a “museum of oddities” that included a two-headed calf, a woolly mammoth skeleton, a large collection of arrowheads, and other curiosities. Even after Interstate 70 replaced old Hwy. 24, the “Wonder Tower” continued to draw a small but steady stream of visitors.

Jerry also had an extensive collection of old bottles, and stored many in abandoned cars on the property, which from a distance made the place look like it had attracted many visitors. The bottles contained iron in the glassmaking process, that turned the bottles various shades of pink when exposed to sunlight over long periods. On our trips to Denver and other Western states in the 90s, my wife and I often stopped to see the “Wonder Tower” and enjoy a visit with Jerry. On each visit, my wife delighted in finding a bottle or two to add to her collection. I even climbed the tower and took a look at the impressive view. On one of our visits we even ran into people we knew from the Kansas City area.

Jerry died in 2013, and his family auctioned most of the museum’s contents. Three years later, a group of Coloradans bought the tower, hoping to preserve the iconic attraction that first impressed visitors nearly a century ago.

Today the abandoned property stands behind barbed wire and “keep out” signs. Like the old attraction, Genoa’s few business buildings are also abandoned and empty, except for a post office and grain elevator.