Steve Pierotti A Pioneer of Pinehaven(1)
In Cuchara’s hills where pine trees grow,
Where rivers rush and wild winds blow,
A vision formed in days gone by
And Steve Pierotti reached for sky.
A Huerfano son, born of grit and ground,
With calloused hands and dreams unbound.
At eighteen, work was not a chore
He ran the pumps, then labored more.
When war drew men to distant lands,
Steve stayed behind, with coal-stained hands.
In silent mines he bore the weight,
Of duty served by toil, not fate.
Three loads, four, through rain and sleet,
He hauled the fire for homes and heat.
And still, at night, he studied flames,
Learned pipes and ducts, and built his name.
A self-made man with steady pace,
No shortcuts carved his path to grace.
He built a life with honest sweat,
A legacy we won’t forget.
But more than work, he dreamed of land
With Vories close, they took a stand.
Through brambles wild and trails unmade,
They mapped out dreams with axe and spade.
Block Eleven, cabins planned,
On highland soil, by their own hand.
Where dirt roads curled like mountain streams,
They laid the bones of future dreams.
Not for glory, not for gold
But for a mountain life to hold.
With love for pine and open sky,
They built where eagles dared to fly.
Now Pinehaven stands, serene and true,
A quiet place where wild hearts grew.
And though Steve's voice is now at rest,
His spirit lingers in the West.
At 301, the fire still glows,
Where stories bloom like mountain rose.
And through his son and those he knew,
Steve’s dream lives on in morning dew.
So raise a toast in evening’s hush,
To rugged men and hearts that rush.
To Steve Pierotti, humble, wise
A pioneer beneath these skies.
Footnotes
Parenthetical numbers in the text (e.g., 5) correspond to the sequentially numbered citations listed below.
1. OpenAI. (2025, May 30). Poem, Steve Pierotti: A Pioneer of Pinehaven, generated by ChatGPT in response to user prompt. ChatGPT (GPT-4.5) https://chat.openai.com/.
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