Douglas Stenton Tureck

He was born on May 31, 1936, in Pueblo, Colorado to Stenton and Valeda Tureck. The family moved to Canon City where Doug was very active at the Canon City High School. He was involved with R.O.T.C., student council, a featured columnist at the school paper, the honor society, and the band (including first chair, president and drum major).

As an adult, Doug embraced life fully. After studying architecture, earning a degree in Distributed Studies in the Humanities, working in the steel mill as a laborer and as a civil engineer assistant, doing landscape architecture for the Botanical Park Service in Rocky Mountain National Park, serving as an Air Strike Intelligence Officer in the U.S. Navy Air, creating merchandise displays for Mary Quart and H.I.S. fashions, teaching Language Arts and coaching competitive speech teams, Doug retired and spent his time traveling the world to places such as Europe, Australia, China, Turkey/Greece, Peru/Bolivia, Egypt, Israel, Russia, Spain, Portugal, Morocco, and India plus extensive travel throughout the United States.

Doug’s accomplishments include recognition as a Language Arts teacher in both Central and South High Schools, coaching competitive speech teams and speakers for national contests six times, developing and running a 6 year districtwide high school humanities program with a Humanities Grant, designing several houses including his own, for which he received recognition; and owning one of the first DeLorean's. When asked if he regretted his lifelong career as a teacher rather than that of an architect, he claimed that once he did student teaching, he never turned back because he felt teaching was his calling.

He liked to examine ideas and to watch students get excited, develop, and blossom. His favorite moments of teaching include the first time his debate team qualified for nationals in 1984. He loved to teach Herman Melville’s Moby Dick and Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn. His lifetime mantra was a quote from Ahab in Moby Dick, “Is it God, I, or who that lifts this hand?” He would explore this question during his lifetime. He never stopped seeking and learning.

Doug was truly a gifted Renaissance and Enlightenment man. The home he designed and built became a landmark of innovative architecture in Pueblo West. Always appreciative of beauty, he was a gifted artist and painter and ardent collector of art and fine design.

He was knowledgeable in both the arts and the sciences and was passionate about learning his entire life! His passion was infectious, inspiring those close to him as well as his students. Many a student kept in contact with Doug because of his influence on their lives. He always had time for these students, encouraging them in their life pursuits. His hobbies included biking, swimming, tennis, skiing, writing, painting and drawing, playing the piano, reading, building model railroads, and driving exotic cars.

Doug had fond memories of the 1950’s and of school: “our innocence, our great school and outstanding, venerable teachers, the advent of TV, summer square dancing in Rudd Park, church activity, writing for the Canon City Daily Record, DeMolay, leading the band, and his dad’s 1953 Studebaker European Coupe.”

Some of the societal changes Doug experienced over his lifetime which he found disconcerting are how local stores were replaced by conglomerates; the absolute corruption of politicians and government; the explosion of right-wing Evangelical churches; the hypocrisy of political correctness; the sloughing of personal accountability; rampant litigiousness; and the rise of terrorism.

He is survived by his nieces, Lisa Shafer (Richard Woodside), Torri Shafer, and Su Shafer; and his nephew Brett (Donna) Shafer and long-time companion Barbara Wood.

There will be no service. In lieu of flowers, please donate to the Sangre de Cristo Arts and Conference Center.

then death came

sarah rian

i am not the only one

who still looks for you.

the sun rises each day

like a spotlight searching.

hoping it will still find you here.

and every night before it rests

i hear the sun beg the moon

to keep looking. . .