Centaur of the City

"So you got your dad's big feet did ya?"

I look down at the long shoes that seem to endlessly jut out of my bony ankles.  At thirteen, the last thing I want to be is recognized, let alone be reminded about my skis for feet.  It’s the mid 1970s in Phoenix and everyone is cool but me.  “Uh, yes, guess I did,” I respond with a shrug.  

This is the Jerry Colangelo of my youth.  Mr. Colangelo is tall, reserved, slender and obviously an athlete back in the day.  We are at a Suns game at the Madhouse on McDowell and it’s half time.  I am waiting uncomfortably outside the men’s room on the main level for my dad.  Jerry doesn’t seem much more at ease than me.  I guess we are even.

It’s the glory days of Suns fandemonium, long side burns and Sansabelt slacks.  There are gold chains, permed Afros and a cool, hip vibe that is oddly natural and not as desperate as it sounds.  Olive green, gold and the omnipresent copper a la burnt umber dominate the style seen.  I want to be a part of the scene.  But I am held back from birth.  “How backwater can my life get?” I think to myself.

I slowly crane my neck up in an attempt to look Mr. Colangelo in the eye.  Jerry is a contemporary of my father.  But he is the cool dad when it comes to fashion.  He dons a dapper plaid sports coat, I’m sure it comes from The Gentry on Central Avenue.  The Gentry after all is a Phoenix Suns sponsor and landmark of the 1970s well-dressed.

My dad didn’t read Glamour magazine’s “Do vs Don’t” issue.  He still sports white belts and white gunboat-length size 14 shoes. I am inconsolable thinking about my life in this desert.  It’s also just one more argument why I don’t want to be a teenager in Phoenix, Arizona.  I don’t want to even imagine what Mr. Colangelo is thinking.

All of a sudden my dad skids out from the rush of maleness emanating from the locker-style restroom.  “Hey, thanks Jerry.  Let’s get’em in the second half!”  With that I realize Jerry’s duty was to keep an eye on me while my dad made a quick pit-stop.  Gawd -  yet another reason why I’m sure lightning cannot come soon enough to strike me down dead.

“Jeeze, dad,” I moan, “I could’ve stood there by myself!”  

Bustling me back to our seats at breakneck speed, my dad launches into a teaching moment, “It’s not very lady-like to hang around the outside of a men’s room.  Besides, Jewels, you need to know Mr. Colangelo.  He’s making a difference in our city.”

And, that was the end of the lesson with admonition.  You just had to be in your seat for the second half.  If you were a true fan and supporter of the dawn of a new Phoenix, it was all about the team.

I schlumped my way back to our hard plastic seats.  Still no bolt of lightening to take me away from this angst.

As my acne faded, and Jerry’s sideburns shortened, we all grew into the comfortable cadence of Valley life.  He built a family, sports entertainment empire while drawing inspiration from his Chicago roots.  There have been cultural institutions, social services, redevelopment districts and even streetscapes that have been touched by his heart and hands.  All along, he had been a reflective, steady visionary.  Throughout his journey, Colangelo lead by example with a faith-filled life.  With wife Joan at his side, Jerry has been at the center of explosive Valley growth.  

Years later, when my dad passed away, Jerry would offer a personal remembrance.  “Yeah, your dad had big feet, I guess us tall guys are always looking for shoes that fit.”

I was grateful for his kind gesture and thought at the time, Jerry Colangelo had found his fit in a city that had some pretty large shoes to fill.

In the next phase of Jerry’s life, he has taken his penchant and knowledge of entertainment and moved it towards a softer focus.  For a man who has lived a great portion of his life traveling on the road with the Suns, Diamondbacks and USA Basketball, he knows the grind of living from a suitcase.  

Perhaps this was the draw to his latest project, the legendary Wigwam Resort in Litchfield.  The desert oasis sits on 400 acres with 331 guest rooms which including 72 suites, 3 golf courses, a tennis complex and 4 pools.  Famed Elizabeth Arden Red Door Spa completes the package and is only one of 31 high-end spa locations throughout the nation.  This is old Arizona luxury meets contemporary, nurturing escape.

So how does a sports mogul come to this?  “I feel I’ve been in the hospitality business my whole life, in terms of professional sports.  This was a natural evolutionfor us.” Colangelo explains.  In 1983 Jerry, with David Eaton and Mel Schultz, formed JDM Properties.  Since then, the organization has amassed a fortune in real estate holdings throughout Arizona, making them one of the largest property owners in the state.

The 81-year-old Wigwam went through a $7 million renovation in search of its former glory.  Originally opened in 1918 by Goodyear Tire and Rubber Company executive Paul Litchfield, the property was a retreat for Ohio-based Goodyear leadership.  The Southwest was a new arrow in the corporate quiver of Goodyear and traveling to the region was exhausting with longer planned stays.  The Wigwam experience was elegantly rustic at best with guests checking in and receiving not only a room key but a horse for transportation as well.

“We felt that it had great bones, but it was sleeping, it was tired,” explains Jerry.  With dedication to reprising lost grace, a luxurious feel has been reborn.  “Our goal was to bring back tradition and history with the modernization and improvements we could make,” he adds.

With the Arizona Centennial quickly approaching, the Wigwam seems poised to celebrate.  A restored ranch-style log entryway greets weary travelers.  There are manicured grass lawns, fire pits, private spaces tucked here and there.  The intimate grounds are all Arizona.  “We wanted to create a whole new form of arrival,” Colangelo says.  And, it has been achieved.

The next aspect of Jerry’s Midas touch involves Douglas Ranch.  35,000+ acres near the White Tank Mountains will be the next stride in JDM’s march to redefine the West Valley.  The Wigwam is just one step along the way, but it is also a befitting nod to the start of the Grand Canyon State’s history.  With interiors that caputure the subteties of desert living, a clear message is delivered that there is tremendous dignity at the dawn of the New West.  Colangelo knows this.

As it turns out, Jerry Colangelo has indeed filled those big shoes of his.  He continues to walk at his own pace, with assurance and a deliberate measure.  “I care about people, the community and putting back into the community,” he says.  Then, with remarkable calm tinged with a bit of wistfulness, he adds, “Hopefully, when it’s all over, I can leave it a better place in which to live.”