Denver International Airport

Denver International Airport is an economic engine in Colorado, generating $36 billion in economic impact. It’s the third busiest airport in the world, receiving 69 million passengers in 2022, and expected to almost double that in 20 years. It also generates more controversy than any other Colorado institution.

One focal point of public debate over DIA is “Mustang,” the 32-foot-high sculpture of a blue horse with red eyes that Coloradans lovingly call Blucifer. Since its installation in 2008 by Luis Jiménez, DIA’s mighty steed has won more admirers than detractors, judging from the number of t-shirts available with the horse’s fierce eyes acting as lasers.

Joseph and Heather O’Malley returned recently to DIA from Disney World with their two children, riding a parking shuttle bus to their car for a long ride home to Glenwood Springs. When told that its real name is Mustang, they shook their heads. For them, Blucifer is preferred. A Boulder commercial lawyer sitting across the way said she believes every conspiracy theory of DIA there is – Illuminati, lizard people, a secret underground tunnel – not because they’re factual, but because they’re fun.

Inside DIA, which airport staff call DEN – the airport’s code, and the abbreviation used in travel booking engines – the staff know what the public thinks and for the most part leans in and plays along. But most of all, they help.

Let’s meet a few of them.

 

Joy Martinez

Photo by Amber KissnerDIA’s call center surprises most people, either because they didn’t know the airport had one, or that its staff would have a sense of humor about the controversies that encircle the airport and its staff.

Joy Martinez is the call center’s senior manager, and she laughs at her reputation among conspiracists.

“Everybody believes I’m in the dungeon, or in the tunnels” beneath DIA, Martinez said. “We’re the lizard people, hiding down here.”

She and the call center team – five full-time agents, three part-time agents and two supervisors – work at the base of the Airport Office Building.

In addition to calls about lizard people and the Illuminati, the call center routinely hears from fliers concerned that rain, snow or wind will cancel or delay their flights. It’s the airlines and/or the FAA that make those decisions on whether flights are delayed or canceled. The airport never closes, Martinez’s team advises.

Tough customers, long hours and late-night/early morning calls don’t faze Martinez. She watched her mother work a call center for the phone company for 40 years. Martinez works closely with Ashley Forest, the airport’s public information officer. Forest might make an emergency call at 3 p.m. and pass along the information to Martinez. Between the two, the airport communications channels are covered 24/7.

So how do Martinez and Forest decompress? They talk about taking a trip together involving water, but that’s sometime in the future. For now, Martinez is a roller derby queen. Her derby name: Talk Schmidt.

Martinez said she and her team sometimes get to be heroes. She remembers one case.

“A customer lost their bags, leaving that person and his wife with no clothes, nothing,” she said. “One of my agents, Mirella, took it upon herself to walk up to the airline baggage office. She talks to the baggage agent, and together they located the bag. The customer wrote the next day thanking her. Any little bit of excitement or happiness that you can help a customer, it makes you feel like you’re on top of the world.”

 

Fred Barta

Fred Barta has been an information booth volunteer at DIA since August 2021. Before that, he served as a financial advisor at TIAA, an investment firm with offices in Denver.

Volunteering at DIA “is cheaper than going to a psychologist” he said. “When you retire, you kind of move further out in the solar system of contact with people. This gives me five hours a week of face-to-face human contact.” Barta is 65 and lives with his wife in Silverthorne.

Barta mainly listens, and in most cases can solve a traveler’s problem. Solving a flier’s problems means that Barta must know the airport backwards and forward. He’s done that by walking around, observing, and talking with any airport employee he can. “Working at the airport really reminds me of my time in the army – camaraderie, and a spirit to serve.”

“Things change all the time,” Barta said. DIA is rebuilding its Great Hall, a.k.a., Jeppesen Terminal, and lengthening its concourses.

“Generally, you’re going to get eight, maybe 10 questions: Where’s the car rental, where’s security, TSA Pre-Check or CLEAR. They need to get to their plane, or they need to get their baggage, or they need an Uber/taxi, or they need a hotel shuttle, or sometimes they need a USB port, or a bouquet of flowers, or a post office. There are very few unusual questions.

“We’re not concierge, we’re information, and we speak with sometimes 100 people an hour. My role is really to make their trip a little easier, and maybe more enjoyable.”

 

Karla Grahn

DIA works with 101 volunteer dog therapy teams, more than any other airport in the world – not just to qualify for the Guinness Book of World Records, but because studies show that dogs reduce passenger stress, bringing smiles to their faces.

Karla Grahn is the volunteer program manager for DIA’s Canine Airport Therapy Squad – CATS for short. At DIA, when you hear someone talking about CATS, it helps to remember that they’re referring to dogs.

The teams include more than 40 breeds – among them, mini-Aussie, goldendoodles, golden retrievers, Labradors, standard poodles, Bernese mountain dogs, Alaskan Klee Kai – and dogs that have been adopted or rescued. Selection for the program is all about personality and training.

Grahn once served as the bird and mammal trainer at the downtown Denver Aquarium, but she’s always favored dogs. She and her husband, Troy, parent two dogs that he used in hunting pheasants and finding antlers: a German short-haired pointer and large Münsterländer.

“Dogs are always happy, always excited to see you, they’re always joyful, and they never judge you for anything,” Grahn said.

She recalls one case where the dog led the owner to a unique encounter.

“Ron Horn, a volunteer who owns Matilda, a Newfoundland, told us a story,” Grahn said. “He and Matilda were walking around the concourses, Matilda likes Concourse B, and Matilda decided she needed to go visit this person. As soon as this lady saw Matilda, her eyes lit up, and she got on the floor, and she just enveloped Matilda in a hug, and she just broke out into tears. It blows my mind how many times dogs know when a person needs them.”

Dog owners must make a minimum commitment of five two-hour visits every three months. The owners can pick their own shift time and day for their volunteer visit. Their parking is free. Passengers who want to know when dog therapy teams will appear at which concourse and when can look them up on X (formerly Twitter) using the hashtag #DENCATS.

 

Sydney Bianchi and her dog Tango

Sydney Bianchi is one of the airport’s 101 dog owner volunteers, and her miniature Australian shepherd Tango, age 5, started spotting people in DIA who needed help in June 2022.

“We come here typically once a week for the fun and laughter, but also to be of comfort to people who for whatever reason, might be struggling and Tango seems to have an innate ability to sense those emotions,” Sydney said.

Tango tends to seek out people who appear to be anxious or sad and will often stay with one person for as long as it takes until she feels they’re OK and only then does she move on.

Tango first belonged to Sydney’s sister, who died from cancer five years ago when Tango was just 2 months old. Once Tango’s calm and sweet temperament began evolving, Sydney made the decision to train her as a therapy dog to “give back” and offer support to others going through similar hurdles in their lives.

 

Father Jason Wunsch

Most passengers don’t know about the airport’s call center, nor its dog therapy program, and most don’t know that Catholic mass is available on Sundays in a chapel in Jeppesen Terminal.

“An airport is about as liminal a space as you can possibly have,” said Father Jason Wunsch. “A lot of people – when they imagine hell, it would be like an airport. There’s no home; you’re just passing through.”

Sunday Mass is a welcome home to traveling Catholics and others who seek its solace. The service is 35 minutes long and begins at 1 p.m. An announcement is made over the airport’s PA system 30 minutes before its start.

Next door is am Islamic Masjid. Both the Chapel and Islamic Prayer Hall are open daily, 5 a.m.-10 p.m.

Wunsch works out of a hotel office in the business park off Tower Boulevard, a short distance from DIA, and lives in downtown Denver with other priests. He visits the airport for special occasions, such as a police officer’s retirement party.

 

Samantha ‘Sam’ Weston

DIA staff believe art can be as therapeutic for stressed passengers as therapy dogs. That’s why Samantha “Sam” Weston looks for the best placement for public artwork in the airport.

“We look at the stress points,” Weston said.

Weston manages DIA’s “legacy” art – 34 installations, many of them familiar works dating back to when the airport opened in 1995. Weston was a toddler in Texas at the time, and now helps preserve that legacy, one that passengers have come to rely on.

Passengers seem to be most attached to “Mustang,” the blue horse with red eyes, rising on its hind legs as it greets motorists making the sweeping turn into the departure and arrival gates.

The mustang’s fiberglass has been exposed to more than 300 days of sunshine a year since 2008.

“The mustang is in a harsh environment,” Weston said. “We repair hail dents, fix any discoloration, patch and repair cracks, add clear coat. To my knowledge we’ve only replaced the red eyes once.”

Art is just as important to airport staff as to passengers. Weston hosted Aviation Learning Day in 2023 for 40 children of staff. They created pinwheels, inspired by the Kinetic Air Light Curtain – the spinning pinwheels lining the train tunnel that carries passengers to concourse A, B and C. Several children gave Weston handmade cards and drawings to thank her.

“One employee, his nephew participated, he sent me the sweetest email about how his nephew went home that day and created a hundred more pinwheels.”



“Mustang,” is an iconic mascot for DIA (left). “Notre Denver,” a gargoyle, sits above baggage claim (middle).
The airport train travels through a light show created by artist Leni Schwendinger (right).
Denver International Airport

Art is playing a larger role in the experience of fliers traveling through major American airports.

Denver International Airport hosts 34 permanent art installations. Only one other airport has more: San Francisco, with more than 100. Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport hosts 20, Chicago’s O’Hare has 16. And media observers are paying attention. CNN and USA Today rate DIA first in art; The Smithsonian lists DIA among the top 10.

Among the works above ground inside DIA that get attention:

“Notre Denver” by Terry Allen: Two cast bronze gargoyles squatting inside empty suitcases, overlooking the east and west baggage claim areas.

 

Below ground:

“Deep Time / Deep Space: A Subterranean Journey” by Leni Schwendinger: A mile-long light and sculpture installation sited in the inbound train tunnel, transformed with images drawn from a mineshaft, a cave and deep space.

 

Outside DIA:

“Luminous Wind” by Laura Haddad & Thomas Drugan: Located along Peña Boulevard, 952 acrylic rods reflect and refract sunlight during the day and display programmable color at night. “Mustang”: The 32-foot cast-fiberglass sculpture with red eyes by the late Luis Jiménez references the bright colors Jiménez experienced as a youth in his father’s sign-making company.