Pink Pyramid Fires Tempers In Colorado

CRESTONE, Colo. - Religious tolerance has long been a source of pride in this former mining town at the base of Colorado's Sangre de Cristo range, where 300 townsfolk worship Christ, Buddha or Hindu fire gods and then attend civic picnics together.

Fifteen years ago, a philanthropic foundation began granting land here to major spiritual movements with the intention of creating a haven for traditional religious practices.

But the tolerance began to show strains two years ago after the arrival of a new group, which obeys a celestial master with a commandment to keep the world from wobbling off its axis. The formula: Build a 396-foot-high pink granite pyramid near Crestone with an obsidian cap that rings to the tone of A.

"I just can't believe that this is anything but a big joke," Crestone Mayor Marlene Pruitt said. "I thought the pyramid plans died with the Egyptians."

Wrong, all wrong, insist dozens of followers of the ethereal being they call Kuthumi, who they believe communicates to their Earthly leaders through Norma Milanovich, 48, of Albuquerque. They have moved to this area or purchased land here in anticipation of their impending ascension to the fifth dimension through the proposed pyramid.

Never mind that the pyramid would cost untold millions of dollars. Nor that the San Luis Valley sits on an aquifer, which Saguache County officials say could not support it. Nor that the pyramid would be about 45 stories tall, while the tallest building for miles around at present is a 47-foot-high Buddhist temple.

The would-be pyramid builders say Kuthumi will prevail.

Many residents hope not. They refer to the newcomers as "PPP's" or "Pink Pyramid People," and appear to worry more about becoming outnumbered by them than about any chance that the Earth will whirl into the great beyond.

In a county with a population of 4,619 spread over 740 square miles, "it wouldn't take a whole lot to get a political majority," said resident Anne Nowell, 37.

Over the past year, property sales in the region have doubled with about half of those sales to pyramid supporters, said Pam Bertin, a local real estate agent.

Barbara Stube, a Denver teacher, recently purchased a lot for a home near Crestone. "My sense is, once the building (of the pyramid) begins, this will be like Mecca or Jerusalem," she said.

Such pronouncements have had a chilling effect here, where many fear the community's cherished standing as a retreat for religious groups.

"Our reputation as a very serious ecumenical community is being ruined," said Hanne Strong, 51, director of the Manitou Foundation, which granted land to spiritual centers here.

Mark Jacobi, 39, a carpenter, was more blunt. "A lot of us are concerned about Crestone becoming a spiritual Disneyland."

At heated debates in town meetings, pyramid backers have claimed they were confronted by uncompromising residents.

"It was overwhelming to experience 100 angry people in the room," recalled Kathleen Novack, 50, who supports the pyramid project. "They were hostile, and they don't understand the situation on Earth."

Last year the local newspaper ran a letter to the editor signed "Kuthumi." "You have positioned yourselves as caretakers of this most powerful vortex in order that you may be the caretakers for the world," it said.

In April, 150 people signed a petition addressed to Kuthumi and delivered to Milanovich, requesting that the pyramid not be built.

Milanovich, who said she began receiving messages from "ascended masters" and extraterrestrials since suffering severe whiplash in a 1981 automobile accident, said she regrets the ridicule residents have heaped on the instructions she said she received from Kuthumi and from extraterrestrial beings on the starship Athena near the star Arcturus.

Milanovich said, "I know this is real, but how can you defend something like this?"

Saguache County officials wish she wouldn't try.