The is the transcription of the oral history of Pennsylvania Rose.

Introduction:

I have been asked to put the oral history of the life of Pennslyvaia Rose down in print for those who might enjoy reading it. Each tme I met with her, she related another part of her life to me. I will attemp to present these meetings as indivigual chapters of her life story. It is not my place to judge the validity or verasity of her words; my job is only to put those words in print. To tantilize those of you who are not familiar with Pennslyvania Rose, she is best know as the original owner of Denver's most infamous and diverse bordello. Also known as Madame Rose, her bordello catered to clientele with tastes that could not and would not be met elsewhere. It was rumored that Rose was once asked if she would allow two elephants to fornicate on the premises; her response was, ''If they pay for the room and any damages, then go ahead and fuck.''

When I was introduced to Rose, she was in her mid 90's. Still sharp as a tack. She had full control of her mind as displayed by an aserbic wit.

I was born in an Amish community in eastern Pennsylvania. I had a normal Amish upbringing and at age 12 was married to a 37 year old man named John Henry. Being a young lass, I had never ventured far from home. A long trip was a 30 minute walk to church each day. My days were spend at church in the mornings, then learning weaving and knitting during the day. I also had my daily chores around the house and our farm to complete. As the youngest of 9 children, and the smallest, my brethren called me the runt. But never within earshot of our father. He would have considered that idolatry. My marriage to John Henry allowed my father to get rid of what he considered a useless mouth to feed. John was a tall, broad shouldered man. Quite successful by our standards. He had lost his first wife in child birth. We lived on his farm. It was quite large as his lands were bountiful in crop producing each year. By age 13 I was a runaway. That man had, what I considered at the time, disgusting ideas about what he wanted me to do. I permitted only the most basic and banal of his carnal advances for as long as I could. With what money I could steal I headed west. My hopes were to find a man to share my life with.

As a small sized woman, yes I say woman, for having had laid with a man at 12 that made me one; people felt sorry for me. I lied and said I was an orphan, travelling to live with an aunt and uncle out west. Some kind souls fed me, others gave me a room for the night. Still others tried to take advantage of me. When I could, I took what monies I could find. It took me over three weeks to make my way, farm to farm, until I reached the city of Columbus, Ohio.

Columbus was a dry, hot city that was very crowded. And very dirty. A farm girl like me was lost in the hustle and bustle of such a big city. I spent 3 months on the streets of Columbus, living as a street urchin. Panhandling and petty theft were my traits. My small size allowed me to be protected by the street gangs. They taught me how to pick a pocket, and the use of a dagger in self defense. Being small also permitted me to squeeze into places where older gang members couldn't.

Using the information I had picked up during my 3 months on the streets, I made Omaha my next stop, with the hope of joining a wagon train west. I teamed up with another street girl known as south side Sal. Sal, or Sally was originally from Chicago. Together, we looked and acted like sisters. Sal was about my size and I assumed my age. Like me she had dark hair, which she kept short. At times she could pass as a young boy. My hair was dark and curly. This contributed, over the years, to people thinking I was younger than I truly was.

It was a warm, early September morning when we took our leave of Columbus and began walking to Omaha. This trip would take several months. We worked out way cross country, helping out on farms, working to bring in harvests. This kept us fed, with a roof over our heads. We were also able to add to our meager cash reserves. As we walked, Sal began telling me of her life before we met.

''I lived my life in Chicago with my parent's in our home above the bakery that mother and father owned and operated. My parents were proud Polish immigrants; who refused to pay off the gangs for protection. This meant nothing to me until I came home from school one day and my home was burned to the ground and my parents dead. Having no relatives in town, I stayed for a while with various families. Eventually I ended up in the care of the Magdalen Society Asylum, a home for orphans, prostitutes and battered women. We spent long hours, six days a week, making toys for children. On Sundays it was three hours of church, followed by sweeping and scrubbing our dorms. This was not how I wanted to spend the years until I turned sixteen and got kicked out. The only things I learned during my time there was from the whores. Pick-pocketing, rolling drunks and pleasing a man were skills I was to need and use. One evening, tired of this, I escaped and began a life on the streets.'' ''After a few weeks alone on the streets I began to rethink my situation. Before I did anything drastic, I was recruited into one of the gangs. I spent the next two years honing the skills taught me by the whores. Yes Rose, all the skills, I learned to please a man.''

This was typical of the type of conversations Sal and I had as we treked our way to Omaha.