Denver’s sunny disposition hides an underbelly of con artists, grifters and fortune tellers looking to make a quick buck. The local media would steer clear of glorifying the seamy side of Mile High City, except for cautionary tales that would warn others to avoid being conned. However, some personalities transcend the printed page or video clips.
This was brought to light in the autumn of 1970, when Denver residents witnessed a rare event: a funeral befitting a “Gypsy Queen.” At least that is how it was described in newspaper stories recording the death and funeral of Kathryn Marks. Even though the term is derogatory, calling Kathryn a Gypsy queen was an inside joke to those within her Roma community, but she was the head of a large family of “Travelers” within the U.S.
Kathryn was the matriarch of the 2,000-strong Marks tribe, passed away at the age of 102. (Although her headstone says she was 104.) Her husband. Her husband, Mitchell Marks, passed away in 1944. The Marks clan sent off their leader in a manner befitting a person of her position.
While not all Roma were con artists, their group was associated with several different types of crimes in the Denver Metro area, including selling counterfeit products, engaging in various door-to-door contractor fraud schemes, and setting up fortune-telling shops around town.
Even Kathryn held an active role in her advanced age, despite being arrested at 96 years old for fortune-telling. She was said to have owned fortune-telling shops on the 1700 blocks of Larimer and Curtis. Denver passed a law in 1912 outlawing clairvoyance and fortunetelling within its city limits, which remained on the books for nearly a century before being repealed in 2000.
Following her death, her body was taken to Noonan Mortuary, on 2406 Federal. The family had a car ready to pick up any mourners flying in to town to pay respects.
Family members like her sons, Little Rock John and Dewey Marks, eldest grandson Farmer John Marks, nephew L Marks and many others watched over their dead matriarch’s body, as part of their custom. They sat with the brass coffin surrounded by wreaths proclaiming “For the Boss of Denver,” “Gypsy Queen” and “The Greatest Fortune Teller Ever.”
At the time, Kathryn left behind 12 sons and daughters, 110 grand and great-grandchildren and around 2,000 members of the Marks clan. More than 200 of the Marks Tribe descended to the Mile High City for Kathryn’s funeral. Mourners arrived from across the United States, Siberia and other Eastern European countries.
On the morning of the funeral, one of Kathryn’s final requests was to include live music as part of her funeral service.
“Bam! Outside, the sunlit wintry air was suddenly shattered by the rock group, Reign, wailing into a bluesy (song), ‘Son, there’s a Smile.” Soon the casket was borne out by grandsons past heart-shaped and palm-shaped and Cadillac-shaped wreaths.”
A convoy of Cadillacs and Lincolns made their way to St. Elizabeth’s Church on 1100 Curtis, which is now in the middle of Auraria Campus.
The Rocky Mountain News reporter covering the event described the funeral service in “the great high-domed churches, yellow interior was filled with these incantations and also with the shattering music of Reign, playing madly on the sidewalk outside.”
The next stop, Mt. Olivet Cemetery, was the final one for Kathryn; the pallbearers carried the bronze casket a half-mile from the gates of Mt. Olivet Cemetery to the grave site. The casket was opened again at the gravesite, and then the family started to file by to pay respects.
All the while, the rock band was playing in the background of the burial service, including a “frantic solo” from the drummer. Mourners passed around bottles of wine and whiskey as the coffin was lowered into the grave. More coins and bills rained into the grave on top and to the sides of the closed casket.
“Kathryn went to her rest with a spinach garden of dollars lying across her bodice and twined through her waxed fingers, “traveling money,” one family member said and according to her wish, to the ear-shattering decibels of funky hard rock dealt out by three long-haired electric guitarists and a wild man of a drummer.”
