Untamed Mayor: Ex-stripper Koleen Brooks throws Georgetown a few curves

Sunday, December 02, 2001 - GEORGETOWN - The mayor is in trouble again. But it's not because she wears a bellybutton light that blinks red and green, or because she prompts whistles as she strolls toward town hall.

And it's not because the mayor is a former stripper who once earned $4,000 in a single evening, or because she's been accused of flashing her breasts at a local saloon. Those colorful topics didn't stir up the latest political squall.

No, this time it's because Georgetown Mayor Koleen Brooks, a motorcycle-riding model born and raised in this old mining town, has been sounding a bit too possessive. At public meetings and bar-stool chats, she refers to "my police force," "my town administrator" and "my town."

That had some residents steamed most recently. But it's only the latest gripe in a catty political spat seemingly best suited for "Judge Judy."

Then again, Brooks already has appeared - and been scolded - on that snippy program.

"She's the mayor of the town, but it's not her police force," says Dexter Fountain, owner of Dexter's Tavern, the creekside bar where Brooks allegedly bared her breasts.

"I've just put so much passion into the job, when I say "my' it's an affectionate term. They've taken offense to that," responds Brooks, 37. "I'm learning to say 'we' and 'our.' "

If you like a healthy dose of soap opera and a shot of "He said/She said" in your civic affairs, Georgetown and its 1,111 residents are your utopia. And the buzz all begins with Brooks, a vivacious, whiskey-voiced redhead whose sometimes scanty outfits - in the opinion of some - have sparked public debate as to whether the mayor needs a dress code.

On one point, however, there is no dispute: Brooks lives life at full throttle. The self-proclaimed party girl models eyewear for Elle and motorcycles for Ducati. She defended herself in a property squabble on a segment of "Judge Judy." (She lost.) She danced in the front row of the recent U2 concert in Denver. And from an old log cabin in the center of town, she runs a hair/coffee/tanning salon called "Dare To Be Different."

Brooks, who is single, laughs often, hugs freely and touches people on the arm to make a point. She skydives, scuba dives and has a compass image tattooed around her bellybutton. And she has rescued about 100 unwanted Pomeranian dogs from all over Colorado. Today, most of those tiny pooches live in Georgetown homes.

"I know I'm great to talk about. But I'm just a friendly person. And you know what? I'm going to bring this community together . . . Georgetown needs to be saved. Spiritually, it needs to be loved."

After seven months on the job, Brooks says she's being bad-mouthed for taking on "the old guard," veteran residents who, in her view, push historic preservation and strict zoning rules at the expense of retail shops and tourism.

Some Georgetown officials fire back that they're tired of the mayor's sloppy handling of town meetings - one lapsed into a four-letter-word shouting match - as well as her constant worrying about "insignificant" issues like whether she's allowed to wear a badge.

In the past two months, one resident openly demanded her resignation "for the good of the community" while others considered a recall election. A few weeks ago, town board member Christine Bradley declared: "I am embarrassed to live here."

"It's certainly not a very dignified situation," says police chief Dave Forristal. "People in the city will say, "The hicks are at it again.' But you know, it's not hicks. In a small town, everybody gets involved (in politics), and there's not a lot of secrets around."

Many residents already know that Brooks worked as a stripper in Denver from 1989 through 1992. "My four years at Shotgun Willie's were my best years," she says. "I love my body . . . I've never hidden who I am."

Likewise, many residents have heard that Brooks allegedly showed her breasts in Dexter's Tavern last summer. If documented, she could have faced indecent exposure charges.

"I guess it happened, from unofficial accounts," Forristal says. "But I didn't do an official investigation on it because nobody would stand up as a witness."

Brooks denies the incident but admits she has lifted her shirt among friends in a basement room at the Red Ram Restaurant, saying: "I know when to have a good time. Of course I flashed at the Ram before. No problem. So what?"

And it's no secret that Brooks and her two-man police force have been at odds. She claims one officer, Mark Dillard, has made "slanderous" remarks about her while in uniform and that several residents have filed complaints about his comments.

"The police department . . . they are not helping me. They are trying to shut me out as much as they can," the mayor says. "They sit down at the coffee store, and they talk smack about me every morning on how they're going to get me out of office."

Forristal responds that he has tried to "stay removed from the politics." He acknowledges that several complaints were made against Dillard -initiated by Brooks and her friends - and that "in one instance, action was taken." The chief wouldn't reveal what discipline was meted out because it was a personnel matter.

"Is the police department taking any overt actions to get her out of office? No," Forristal says.

And, most recently, residents have learned that Brooks struggles with short-term memory loss - the remnants of a stroke she suffered five years ago after a bad car accident in Denver. She spent 13 days in a coma after the crash and was paralyzed on her left side. Brooks says she had to learn how to walk, read and talk again.

When the mayor speaks, she occasionally loses her train of thought. She takes medication for the condition, and her left hand is still slightly paralyzed. To help compensate, Brooks has an unpaid assistant, Kerry Ann McHugh, who types memos and researches the town charter.

"The only thing that concerns me (about the stroke and McHugh's help) is that it was never brought out during the election," Fountain says. "It just would have been nice to know."

No doubt, the story of Koleen Brooks has more curves than, well, the mayor herself.

Brooks enjoys the privileges of holding office, but needs an assistant to compensate for her short-term memory loss, the after effects of a car crash five years ago. Critics say they wish she had disclosed the problem before she was elected. Last April, candidate Brooks stunned many in town by topping former newspaperman Mort Stern after an energetic, 9-month campaign during which she vowed to boost youth activities, lure more visitors and breathe some fun into an economically sputtering town. (There are five closed shops, and sales tax revenue has fallen each of the past two years.) She ran on the "Jama" party - "I just want to jam," she says. "I want to get things moving."

Her mother, Dorothy, who still lives in Georgetown, begged Brooks to stay out of politics and predicted: "They're going to tear you apart."

"The best way I can surmise it," Fountain says, "is that people in town either voted for the devil you know or the devil you don't. I don't think they voted for Koleen; they voted for change. A lot of people are really disappointed, I think."

But Brooks' larger vision remains clear: to stop historic preservationists "from taking over and making this a retirement community."

Tucked into high valley shadows next to Interstate-70 about 45 minutes west of Denver, Georgetown is still dotted with many of the Victorian-style homes and Old West buildings that went up during the gold and silver booms of the 1860s. Scores of those 19th-century ore hunters who hiked 8,500 feet up to Clear Creek (for gold) and McClelland Mountain (for silver) hailed from New England and installed their eastern style of government.

It's still in place. A six-member board of selectmen runs the town with oversight from the "police judge" or mayor who, despite the lofty title, doesn't get to vote on town measures unless there is a tie. Brooks' few duties involve running the semi-monthly town meetings. She gets paid $50 a month.

Away from the political turmoil, Georgetown is still cozy enough that many residents are on a first-name basis.

Conversations at the Red Ram Restaurant may run the gamut from books to architecture.

"If you see a bear walking down the street, you'll know who to call to let them know not to let the dog out," says Bradley, one of the six selectmen and also a 25-year resident.

"Georgetown has always been a little more genteel. Even in the mining days, it was more genteel than the rowdier camps. Some of that has come through today."

Playing against that Victorian backdrop, Brooks' flashy antics seem to have turned off some in town. Beyond that, there are the old feuds. Of one town official with whom she's traded barbs, Brooks says: "I've known her since I was 5. She's always stabbed me in the back . . .

"This is black and white right here in Georgetown. I'd say about 20 people are running the town and have always run the town." Those "select few," the mayor contends, include historic preservation activists, older property owners and descendants of long-time Georgetown residents.

"They're just putting in (zoning and density) rules and trying to take away our property rights," she says.

The way Brooks and her supporters figure it, more sightseers should be attracted to pump up Georgetown's economic heart. The mayor wants concerts, craft shows and holiday festivals to lure tourists. Instead, she says, preservationists who live in historic homes have protected their own investments with strict zoning laws while throwing up roadblocks to tourism and newcomers.

"I think they'd be happy if they just closed off the interstate exits into town," Brooks says of her political enemies.

But one of those identified foes, Bradley, says town officials have an obligation to manage growth while "trying to keep the atmosphere the same" in Georgetown.

"I wouldn't feel comfortable saying we have kept people out," she says. "Our population has grown (about) 20 percent. I think Georgetown will in its own way find out how much change you can accept without changing your basic personality."

Yet these small-town politics also are tinged in personal revenge. In a sense, Brooks ran to restore the name of her father, Thor Jorgensen, a former Georgetown doctor who's now retired in California.

"They treated my father very poorly in this town, and that's why I always said I wanted to do this," she says. "My father had my rambunctiousness and my energy."

He also had a mountain of legal problems, getting convicted seven times for practicing medicine without a license after losing it in 1978. During his career, Jorgensen also was convicted of illegally dispensing drugs and charged with malpractice. In 1980, he was sentenced to four years in prison.

"My father was a real good doctor and real outgoing," Brooks said. "He had a hard time with the select few here in town. They picked on him like they pick on me. . .I mean they went after him."

Jorgensen and his wife, Dorothy, moved from Michigan to Georgetown in 1964 when Dorothy was six months pregnant with Koleen. Jorgensen, who is Norwegian, came west for the skiing, but both had fallen in love with the mountain village during a visit a couple of years before.

As the youngest of eight children, Brooks later tagged along with her dad on house calls and claims she helped him deliver 62 infants.

When she was 17 and a student at Clear Creek High in Idaho Springs, she had a baby herself. With her college plans dashed, she went to hair school. (She later divorced the baby's father.) Her son, Dustin Reynolds, is now a college student at Colorado State University. Recently, even he weighed in on the controversy, writing an open letter to the Clear Creek Courant newspaper.

"I just don't understand how people could be so vicious. My mother has come a long way to get where she is today, and it is a shame for her to be treated in such a way," Reynolds wrote. ". . . She is a very strong person, and it will take a lot more than a few lies and rumors to take her down. I love you Mom."

"Koleen's got the best experience there is - she's got a good heart," says resident Malcolm Schaefer, a United Parcel Service pilot who owns the Georgetown house in which Brooks grew up. "She's really trying to do the best thing for the community."

Yet as the juicy gossip flows, urgent issues such as aging water pipes and sluggish retail sales tend to get overshadowed, Brooks' detractors argue.

"If I go out and have lunch in town, a lot of people will come up to me and say, "What is going on?' There are a lot of opinions at this point in time, all boiling and simmering," Bradley says.

"I would guess that over the next few months, those who have really strong opinions are going to figure out whether to do something or not . . . Starting over a month ago, people have been coming to (town) meetings and talking about the possibility of a recall."

The mayor expects just such a move. Perhaps in February. But she says she's more than ready to get on with Georgetown's business.

On a recent weekday afternoon, with Georgetown already shrouded in shade by the surrounding peaks, Brooks stepped out of her log-cabin hair salon. Built in 1849, the two-story structure is jammed with the mayor's own, hand-painted furniture and wall hangings she designed and welded. Outside, the cabin is flanked on one side by a row of brightly colored plastic chairs shaped like open palms.

After a just few steps up the street, she drew a distant wolf whistle from a male pedestrian.

Minutes later, she was sitting in the Red Ram, scarfing a plate of beef stroganoff. Hanging on a wall near her table was a black and white photo taken inside the Ram circa 1970. It shows a standing-room-only crowd partying and laughing as a man stands on a chair, leans back and plays a trumpet toward the ceiling.

"This," Brooks said of the snapshot, "is what I want to get Georgetown back to. I say, let's get to work. Let's stop this nonsense. I mean, enough's enough."

CBI investigates Georgetown saga

By Charlie Brennan, News Staff Writer

GEORGETOWN -- The Colorado Bureau of Investigation has launched a probe to determine whether a prosecutor for Georgetown warned a girlfriend -- the town's mayor -- that she was under scrutiny for allegedly planning a hit on a town police officer.

A prior CBI investigation into whether Mayor Koleen Brooks plotted to hurt or kill Mark Dillard, one of the town's two police officers, was concluded late last week and resulted in no charges.

However, Dillard told a reporter Monday that 5th Judicial District Chief Deputy District Attorney Rob Wheeler was briefed about allegations against Brooks and that Brooks somehow learned about the CBI investigation -- which was to make use of undercover surveillance -- less than a week later.

"We have since found out the DA is dating her," Dillard said Monday. "We can guess where the tip came from. But we can't accuse or speculate."

Dillard said Tuesday he was not suggesting that Wheeler, a former Clear Creek County judge, had alerted Brooks that the CBI was on her trail. But Dillard did question why a prosecutor would date someone he knows to have been under investigation in a possible murder plot.

Wheeler admitted Monday that he is seeing Brooks, a one-time stripper at Shotgun Willie's in Glendale, but said he has only been doing so for a week.

Although Dillard has stopped short of directly accusing Wheeler of warning Brooks about the earlier CBI probe, Wheeler's boss, District Attorney Mike Goodbee, asked for the CBI investigation.

"Your article prompted me to call the CBI . . . and ask them to find out if there is anything to this officer's allegation," Goodbee said.

"The allegations made by the officer are very serious, and so (CBI deputy director) Pete Mang assured me they would conduct an investigation into it. If Rob has violated a law, he will be held accountable. And by the same token, if he has done nothing wrong, his name will be cleared."

Wheeler could not be reached for comment Tuesday, but Goodbee talked to Wheeler and said, "Rob has assured me that he didn't tell the mayor anything."

Goodbee said the new CBI investigation could end up putting officer Dillard on the hot seat.

"If there was a reckless disregard for the truth by the police officer, that could constitute criminal libel," Goodbee said. "When you talk to a representative of a newspaper that is distributed statewide and make a claim of that nature on a law enforcement officer, I'm going to take it seriously."

The first CBI investigation relating to Brooks was launched in early September, after a customer in Brooks' Dare-2-Be-Different hair salon in Georgetown told police she overheard the mayor discuss on the phone a plot to hurt or kill officer Dillard, who had campaigned against her April election.

Dillard said Town Marshal Dave Forristal notified Wheeler about the investigation at its outset, as a matter of procedural protocol. This was also confirmed Tuesday by Forristal.

Less than a week later, Dillard said, Brooks came to town police asking why she was being investigated. Dillard said it was only later that police learned Wheeler is dating the mayor.

Wheeler earlier denied being briefed about the investigation, and said, "I have seen no investigation, and I have no proof one was ever done."

The mayor refused Tuesday to discuss either the completed or newly initiated CBI probes.

"I have nothing to say to you," Brooks said, and promptly hung up the phone. In an earlier interview she adamantly denied any wrongdoing.

Brooks, 37, has been a lightning rod for criticism during her brief tenure. She has been hotly criticized by townspeople for allegedly revealing her breasts at Dexter's Tavern, in Georgetown, in May.

Although Brooks admits to having publicly exposed her breasts in the past, she insists she has never done so in Georgetown.

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