I had the occasion this past week to attend the 50th birthday party for an old pal, and pals from my Frontier Airlines days showed. They flew in from all over. Many of us had not seen each other since the day the former Frontier Airlines went belly-up in 1986.

A few people were surprised to learn I had lived in Southern California 15 of the 20 years since Frontier went out of business and only moved back to Colorado little more than a year ago.

"Where do you live now?" several asked.

"Near Castle Rock," came my reply.

"Castle Rock? Why did you move way down there?"

I explained to several people who had not lived in the Denver metro since the 80s that Castle Rock is no longer "way down there" in relation to Denver, where we used to all live, work and play. Castle Rock, I explained, is a booming, thriving, hip town-turning-city now considered yet another southern extension of the Denver metro.

I see Castle Rock is turning 125 years old this month. If towns could talk.

If Castle Rock were a living, breathing entity, I try to imagine how it might feel about things these days. I wonder if the town would feel dismay or satisfaction now that it is officially more than a pit stop between Denver and Colorado Springs. I wonder if this city would hold all its new residents in loving embrace or try not to notice. Does it long for the good old days when it was little more than a place for farmers to come get supplies that arrived downtown by train?

Our family sank comfortably and entirely into this fantastic, growing community little more than a year ago. We were enchanted by the quaint downtown area, the majestic mountain views, rolling open spaces, pine trees that must be far older than the town itself, and the buzz of a community in the midst of change. We recognize all that drew us here will draw many more. We see schools under construction, hear rumors of malls, office parks and additional residential areas. We notice all the irrefutable signs of things to come.

I tell my sons, still in grade school, to take a good look around. I tell them they will likely one day point to neighborhoods, shopping centers, office buildings and say, "I remember when there was nothing there but an open field."

I suppose residents of Littleton, Highlands Ranch, Parker and countless once-small Colorado communities now gobbled by the sprawling Denver metro already know what we Castle Rock residents are in for. I suppose we should all accept urban sprawl will one day start at Fort Collins and extend to Pueblo. My hope is small-town Castle Rock will not blend entirely and lose its unique feel. And, I am betting town officials and other proud residents fervently hope the same. I keep my fingers crossed for growth without the loss of identity.

Happy birthday, Castle Rock, our family's new hometown.