A PARK ON TOP of a busy underground highway was a first for Denver — a first, in fact, for the entire Mountain West. To outsiders, it seemed like a wonderful addition to Globeville Elyria-Swansea, or GES, a predominantly Latino community in North Denver. It featured an amphitheater, two soccer fields and a splash pad for overheated kids on hot days, though no splash pads were needed at the ribboncutting ceremony last November, when temperatures dipped into the 20s. About 160 freshly planted saplings, their bases powdered with snow, dotted the park’s four acres, and the Rocky Mountains rose dramatically in the distance. Plumes of smoke from the nearby Purina factory marred the view slightly, but overall, it was a peaceful scene, especially considering that 10 lanes of cars were speeding by underneath.
The facility, dubbed simply “the cover park,” represented a milestone in the $1.2 billion reconstruction of Interstate 70 — one of the largest and most controversial infrastructure projects in Colorado’s history. Freeways had long divided this community, and the project was designed to reconnect it. For over four years, residents’ lives had been upended by all the demolition and construction. The park’s unveiling was supposed to symbolize the end of a difficult chapter and the beginning of a better one.
The park itself cost $125 million, and the soccer fields’ turf was so new that it still curled up at the corners, occasionally causing attendees — mostly bureaucrats in puffer jackets and polished dress shoes — to stumble. Gov. Jared Polis was present, as was Denver’s then-mayor, Michael Hancock, a 54-year-old Democrat. At 11 a.m., the speeches began.
Hancock, the second Black mayor in the city’s history, declared, “This is a proud moment for Denver.” With more stories coming to light about how highway projects had fractured communities of color, a national demand has risen to address the consequences. In 2021, President Joe Biden’s Bipartisan Infrastructure Law set aside $1 billion to reconnect divided neighborhoods, and while that money didn’t fund I-70’s facelift in GES, which was already underway, politicians would frame the project as emblematic of the national moment. Hancock boasted that it sought input from residents and created local construction jobs. “This,” he said, “is the result of community engagement and community visioning.”
Following his remarks, teachers from the adjacent Swansea Elementary School led their students into the park; the kids whirled on the new merrygo-round, shrieking in delight.
Just before the ceremony ended, Alfonso Espino, a 27-year-old GES resident, dropped by. Espino, who has a round, boyish face behind a mustache and goatee, had heard about the park for more than a decade and often jogged by when it was under construction. Now, he felt lost. “Looking around and not being able to place myself — it’s kind of weird,” he said. But GES could use more green space, Espino conceded, and it was great to see the kids playing. Previously, only about 55 acres of parkland existed in the nearly five square-mile neighborhood.
