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Growing up in Broomfield, Colorado, in the 1990s was an experience defined by simplicity, community, and the unmistakable spirit of a small town on the cusp of transformation. Nestled between Denver and Boulder, Broomfield was not yet the bustling suburb it is today. Instead, it was a tight-knit community where everyone seemed to know one another, and life moved at a slower, more deliberate pace.

A Town on the Brink of Change

In the 90s, Broomfield felt like a town suspended in time, untouched by the rapid growth that would soon come to define the Colorado Front Range. The sprawl of Denver was still a good 20-minute drive away, and Boulder’s eclectic energy seemed a world apart. Broomfield was a mix of ranch-style homes, small businesses, and large expanses of undeveloped fields, dotted with the occasional herd of cattle. The Flatirons loomed in the distance, always visible, always present, serving as a constant reminder of the rugged beauty of the Rockies.

Back then, the city was still figuring out its identity. It was a town that balanced its rural roots with the creeping sense of urbanization. Broomfield’s population was just beginning to swell, with new families moving in, drawn by the promise of affordable housing and good schools. But it was still small enough that you could bike from one end of town to the other in an afternoon.

The Freedom of Youth

For a kid in the 90s, Broomfield was a paradise of open spaces and endless opportunities for adventure. Before smartphones and social media dominated our lives, our entertainment came from the outdoors. Days were spent exploring trails, building forts in the fields, or playing pick-up games of basketball or street hockey in cul-de-sacs. We lived for the next big snowstorm, when school would be canceled, and we could spend the day sledding or building snow forts.

Summers brought with them a unique rhythm. The days were hot and seemed to stretch forever, filled with the laughter of kids running through sprinklers and the sound of ice cream truck jingles. Occasionally, summer meant days at the Bay, a brand new water park that was the place to be when the heat rolled in. The rush of the water slide, the feeling of hot concrete underfoot, and the sound of a lifeguard’s whistle – these were the sounds of summer in Broomfield. And when the day cooled, you’d find kids riding their bikes to the local King Soopers or 7-Eleven, a few dollars in their pockets, eager to grab a Big Gulp or a pack of trading cards. Many evenings were spent at the Broomfield Community Park Amphitheater, where families would gather on picnic blankets for free summer concerts. Local bands played everything from country to classic rock, and for a few hours, the amphitheater was a lively hub where everyone could enjoy music under the open sky, with the sunset painting the Rockies in hues of pink and orange.

A Sense of Community

The community was the lifeblood of Broomfield. School events, local sports leagues, and church activities were the threads that wove us all together. Friday nights were for high school football games under the lights, the whole town turning out to cheer for the Broomfield Eagles. The sense of camaraderie was palpable, whether you were a player on the field, a parent in the stands, or a kid with dreams of one day wearing the team’s blue and white jersey.

Local businesses were the heart of the town. We had places like the Donut Factory, where you could grab a fresh donut and a cup of coffee, always served with a smile. The Broomfield Heights Shopping Center was a focal point, with a mix of mom-and-pop stores and a few chain shops. And, of course, there was the local roller rink, where many of us had our first taste of freedom, awkwardly skating under disco lights to the soundtrack of 90s pop hits.

There was always a sense of anticipation as September approached, bringing with it the cherished tradition of Broomfield Days. For decades, this annual festival has brought the community together for a day of celebration and fun. The day would start early with the Mayor’s Cup 5K and Fun Run would setting the pace, with runners of all ages sprinting down the route. Then came the parade, a lively procession of floats, marching bands, and local organizations, winding its way down Midway Boulevard, with residents lining the streets to cheer. As the day went on, families explored hundreds of vendor booths, sampled delicacies from local vendors, admired classic cars at the car show, watched the DockDog competition, and cheered on the kids in the clown contest. The day would culminate with a duck race and performances on multiple stages, each act vying for the crowd’s applause. It was a day when Broomfield felt like the center of the universe, a day when everyone felt a part of something bigger than themselves.

A Different Kind of Childhood

In Broomfield, we had the freedom to roam. Parents weren’t helicoptering over us; instead, they trusted us to figure things out, to be home before the streetlights came on. There was a sense of safety and security in the community, a feeling that the whole town was looking out for one another. It wasn’t uncommon to have a neighbor scold you if you were up to no good or to have someone down the street lend a hand if you needed help.

The internet was still in its infancy. AOL dial-up connections buzzed and beeped through the house, and chat rooms were the closest thing we had to social media. Video games were played on bulky TVs, and Saturday mornings were for cartoons. But as much as technology was creeping into our lives, it hadn’t yet taken hold. We still found joy in simple pleasures: catching grasshoppers, recording songs off the radio, and riding our bikes with friends until the sun dipped below the Rockies.

When we sought bigger adventures, we’d take a short drive down Sheridan Boulevard to Lakeside Amusement Park. Lakeside, with its historic wooden roller coaster and neon-lit rides, offered a step back in time. It was the perfect escape, where for a few dollars you could spend the evening on rides that felt thrilling, even if they were a little rickety. The park’s quirky charm was just enough to keep the magic alive and make us feel like we’d ventured far from our little town.

The Beginnings of Change

By the late 90s, the first signs of Broomfield’s transformation were becoming evident. New developments started springing up, farmland began giving way to housing tracts, and the town’s first major mall, the FlatIron Crossing, opened in 2000, signaling a new era. The Broomfield of today was beginning to take shape, but those of us who grew up there in the 90s felt the bittersweet pang of change.

Looking Back

To grow up in Broomfield in the 90s was to experience a unique moment in time, a bridge between the old and the new. It was a place where you could see the mountains from your backyard and where friendships were forged over shared experiences rather than shared screens.

There was a magic to those days that is hard to replicate, a simplicity that seems more precious in retrospect. As Broomfield has grown and changed, becoming more connected to the larger metropolitan area, those of us who remember the 90s look back with a mix of nostalgia and gratitude. We were fortunate to have experienced a time when the town was still finding itself, a time when the pace of life was a little slower, and the sense of community was a little stronger. And though the landscape may have changed, the memories of those days remain, etched in the hearts of those who called Broomfield home.