The letter “M” was the most stubborn to remove.

Just over seven feet high, M had the best view of downtown Denver, perched on a roof and attached to a 41-foot long, three-word panel. It was the first letter of the middle word in “Benjamin Moore Paints.” 

But the neon M is no Moore.

The century-old Benjamin Moore Paints neon sign was taken down on Dec. 11 and replaced a week later with a showier aluminum model guaranteed to be cheaper to maintain.

“It took us a day to take it down and a day to put the new one up,” said John Michel Lenfant, foreman for Custom Lighted Signs.

He said that almost all of the 19 neon tubed letters were removed with a crane, smashed, bagged up and deposited at Rocky Mountain Recycling last week.

The “M” was the tallest letter at 7 feet, 2 inches, and it was Lenfant’s job to line up the new letters just right. On Thursday, workers found themselves six stories, high balancing buckets full of black paint, to touch up the sign’s frame.

The old sign was “too deteriorated to restore,” spokesperson Amanda Weston of Denver’s Landmark Preservation unit told The Denver Gazette in an email. She said that the landmark commission worked with the owners to approve the removal and rebuild of the new sign to match the original — “except for the use of LED lights in place of neon lights.”  

Still, some people were horrified by the change, and many took to social media to complain.

But because of a back-door move during the dismantling, not all of the glass was lost.

At least one lucky passerby asked for and received the letter “i,” according to Tyler Croston, president of Custom Lighted Signs. He said that several people offered to purchase the entire sign, including a man who claimed to have once owned the 100-year-old brick Benjamin Moore Paints warehouse building.

“He asked to buy the sign, but Benjamin Moore said no because they didn’t want anyone re-selling the image,” Croston said.

Rocky Mountain Recycling did not respond to a request for comment on whether the broken shards of the landmark neon sign will be tossed into obscurity or saved by a lawyer who is rumored to have called to save them.

Benjamin Moore Paints is the last of only two rooftop advertising signs. Jonas Brothers Furs, built in 1923 at 1037 North Broadway, is still standing. 

Illuminata

The future of the neon sign would be dim except for history lovers like Todd Matuszewicz, Colorado’s self-appointed spokesperson for their preservation.

A former schoolteacher, Matuszewicz is passionate about saving signs, such as The Oriental Theater marquee, which got a facelift from his store, Morry’s Neon, this past August.

Humans have a fascination with neon, he said, because “when we see neon lit up, it’s a cosmic firework but it’s our inner cosmic selves illuminated.” He explained that the nostalgic feeling people have when they see an honest-to-goodness neon sign is subliminal, but it makes them feel good.

“It’s our inner light,” he said.

Neon, discovered in 1898, is a noble gas, obtained mostly from liquefying air. Neon signs create light by applying electricity to neon or argon in a sealed glass tube.

Matuszewicz is what’s called a tube bender — a person who restores neon signs at Morry’s Neon at 1330 Zuni St # K in Denver.

Some of his favorite neon signs (not on a rooftop) in Denver include The Mayan Theater marquis and Pete’s Kitchen on Colfax Avenue, which actually shows a chef flipping four pancakes.

Except when it rains, the chef only flips one pancake because of a glitch in the electricity that lights it. 

Mark Stein has traveled thousands of miles photographing vintage neon signs since the 1990’s “before they all become unrecognizable.” He’s demoralized by the loss of the Benjamin Moore Neon 19.

“We have absolutely no say. It’s an unfortunate reality now. People just want to get cheap LED’s and make them all kinds of cool colors,” he said. “What’s next? The Union Station sign?”

On Thursday, at the corner of Broadway and Walnut Street, people on busy holiday sprints who had the sense to look up from their phones noticed that the old Benjamin Moore sign had been replaced by dynamic red letters.

“It’s almost too perfect for me,” said Javonni Butler, who is a downtown developer.

He preferred the old-school feel to the “cleaner” image.

Some people had never noticed the sign, which sits on its braces on the rooftop of what is now loft residences.

“I didn’t even know this was here,” said Ryan Sanchez of Arvada who had been Christmas shopping in RiNo. “This is kind of sad, but the new one will be neat.”

Sanchez favors the abilities of the aluminum Benjamin Moore Paints replacement, which will be red 95% of the time, to change to a rainbow of colors through Wi-Fi settings from anywhere, even out of town, with the touch of a finger on a cellphone app.

“Do you think it will turn blue and yellow if the Nuggets win the championship again?” he asked.

Thursday night lights

On Thursday night, the Denver City and County building was not the only light show in downtown Denver.

The new-fangled RGB LED Benjamin Moore Paints sign was lit up like Vegas for a test run. As soon as dark settled in on the year’s longest night, Croston was at the controls on the roof.

“It was cool! Benjamin Moore even had its drones out there,” he said.

Benjamin Moore still owns the historic sign, Croston explained, so he’s not to blame for the makeover. When people get mad at him, he tells them he’s not the decider, only the contractor paid to remove and install.

He understands the nostalgia, but he remembers that the old sign was in bad shape.

“The lighting constantly needed service,” he said, adding that the maintenance problems must have cost Benjamin Moore tons of cash.

Some folks are happy with the new version, LED, because it’s brighter.

But Matuszewicz insists that bright does not mean charming.

“LED is manufactured and there’s a cold machine feeling to it. Neon has an internal warmth,” he said. 

Somewhere, there are a couple of intact lowercase “i”‘s from a sign that stood watch over downtown Denver for 100 years.

Ode to Benjam n Moore Pa nts.