April 2, 2008
Do you remember "The Rush"?
By Stan Dyer
In a recent article, I shared how certain old songs brought back memories of events in my life. Apparently, the story struck a
chord with readers. Many readers wrote back to share their own, personal stories. It was fun reading the thoughts of others, but, of course, their stories just brought back even more memories for me, and had me asking many of them, "Do you remember The Rush?"
It was the summer of 1984. Ronald Reagan was President of the United States, Mary Lou Retton was Queen of the Olympics, and Arnold Swarzenegger promised, "I'll be back". On the home front, I just moved in to my first house, my Black Lab,
Oscar, was just a pup and, (if you can believe it), I was coaching Little League Baseball. While helping paint the house, a friend told me about a new nightclub at 120 th and I-25 called "The Rush", and suggested we should "check it out". Actually, we both had some history with "The Rush".
There was a "3.2" club at Sixthand Sheridan called "After the Gold Rush", but everyone knew it as "The Rush". When 3.2 beer was legal for 18 year-olds, "After the Gold Rush" was one of the hottest clubs in town. Disco music was popular with the cutest girls in the area who liked to dress-up, make-up and dance the night away sipping on the Rush's dollar pitchers. With the lights, the sound system and the finest women in town, even guys who hated disco often came just to enjoy the show. Yet, we do not stay 18 forever, and we all grew out of that phase.
Now, in 1984, "The Rush" was back and had grown up with us. It was now a new, different, 21 club. The older Rush still existed as the kid sister of the new Rush, and became known as "The baby Rush", (since it was for the younger crowd), but the new Rush was really something to behold. It was even bigger, had a better sound system and, most of all, did not serve 3.2 beer at all. I still remember my first visit.
"There's something strange in the neighborhood. Who ya gonna call? Ghostbusters !" It was an unusual first song to hear in a nightclub, but, after all, both the song and the movie were popular, and all I really noticed was the excellent sound system. I sat down, started sipping a beverage, and marveling at the new location. The old Rush was big, but this one was bigger. At the time, I had no idea that this new "Rush" would become such a part of my life.
Sometime in the 80's, many clubs began featuring Friday Happy Hours that included large buffets, and I, with my youthful metabolism, was all over that. The Rush had its own version that started earlier than most. Their Friday Happy Hour Buffet began at 4:00 and ended at 9:00. The buffet was not much to write home about, (even though advertised as a "dinner" buffet). The best thing about the buffet was that it was free when many others charged extra. There were chips, salsa, some vegetables, a brick of cheese and, occasionally, Buffalo wings, (which one friend affectionately referred to as "squirrel legs"). I suppose the food attracted some, but most came for the dollar drinks, the Oldies, and the companionship.
Right up until 9:00, the music was all about the old tunes of the 50's, 60's and some 70's. It was a relaxed, nice, change of pace, and everyone seemed to enjoy the hourly "mystery" song. Every hour, the DJ played a mystery song and offered $5 to the first person who could name the title and the artist. They were good at picking very obscure, one-hit-wonders and songs with unusual titles that people recognized but usually could not name, or did not know the artist. As the afternoon became the evening, more and more friends dropped in. We drank, nibbled on celery and cheese, and just enjoyed each other's company. Everything changed at 9:00 when the light show came on. The club morphed from casual into serious mode.
The DJs always did a 9:00 light show and most used either the music of Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run", or an instrumental song by ELO that I never knew the title of. The light show ended with pyrotechnics that blew wind by your face no matter where you were standing, followed by the first song of the night and people rushing to grab spots on the dance floor. It was quite an experience, and it was always fun at the Rush, but I sometimes wonder what ever happened to all my "Rush" friends?
It was unusual how so many people frequented that place, but so few shared much of life outside the club. All week, people went about their separate lives only to meet again each Friday and some Saturdays. As time passed, people just drifted to other interests, some moved away, and the club fell out of popularity. I do not remember exactly why or when the doors closed for good, (since I was one who drifted to other interests), but they did close. I guess the original crowd just grew up and no new crowd ever took its place.
A few years back, I returned to "The Rush" for a class reunion, (if you can imagine that). It was changed. Much of the dance floor was gone, the sound system was gone, and the Disco lights were gone. Since it was now part of a hotel, it was used it for meetings, (like class reunions), and they had a new name for it. They called it the "Big Room". So, I sat in the Big Room catching up with old classmates and catching up with some of my past too. It was like two former worlds of my life coming together at once, and, despite the collision of antimatter, the world did not implode. While I reminisced with friends remembering old times, I also reminisced with the old hangout and remembered old times there as well. I realized then that this was one of the beauties of aging.
While we are living life, we are also creating history, our own personal history. Each day, we walk through windows of time and opportunity that only come by once. I never thought that either "Rush" would become such a part of my history, let alone the history of Denver, but there you have it. Now, do I remember "The Rush"? Yeah, I think I do. I hope I never forget.