USASJ Story Project- Dec 31 BAKKE

Editor's note-  In the early 80's the Canadians, under head coach Bill Bakke, had some incredible results.  One could argue (as I would) that their success helped buoy US performances of the era, as well.  One of the key ingredients (along with Horst Bulau) was a kid of great natural talent and deep love of flying... a kid from Thunder Bay. Ontario named Steve Collins. 

Canadian Steve Collins celebrates his ski flying victory in Harrachov, TCH on the shoulders of his coach, Bill Bakke.

STORY No. 79
BILL BAKKE
Age- aiming for 100... so far so good
Living in the Great White North
Blackhawk Ski Club, USST

Ticket to Rank and Privilege

In March of 1980, the Harrachov, CZE ski flying hill was opened for its first competition.  In my second year of coaching the Canadian team, I'd made the selection of Steve Collins (just turned 16) and Horst Bulau (age 17) to enter.  Two other skiers were with us in Europe, but it was my decision they not compete there.  Steve and Horst had earned WC points in several meets that year, the first of official WC standings.  In a strong headwind at Lahti, they'd placed 1st and 5th, with Steve breaking the old hill record by 8 meters, convincing me of their preparedness.

Harrachov was reported to be the 'biggest ever' ski flying hill, although at that time they were all limited to a K point of 165m, the speed, parabolic knoll and R2 were indeed mammoth.  But the weather was very mild, bringing in dense fog and rain.

At that time two coaches were on the jury, and my fellow coaches railroaded me into that obligation.  One could think it an honor, but indeed it was more 'if he is foolish enough to bring those young skiers here for their first ski flying, let's stick him with some responsibility!'

The official car came to pick me up that first day, a Mercedes no less in a relatively poor communist country.  As the doorman opened the rear door for me, I see the FIS TD already there, Helmut Recknagel (DDR) who'd won in Squaw Valley and Zakopane in 1960 and 1962 respectively.  I immediately told him what an honor it was to meet him, and how as kids we went out the day after the Squaw Valley Olympics (first time we'd seen ski jumping on tv), and tried to emulate his trademark arms forward flight position.  As we exchanged business cards, he wrote his home address on the back of his:  Karl Marx Strasse, East Berlin.  After ski jumping, he went on to earn a veterinarian degree, obviously living a life of rank and privilege.

Steve's first jump on the hill, his first ever ski flying, was 172m.  The world record at the time was 176m (Innauer, Oberstdorf).  Had Steve not slightly opened his body position in flight, I am convinced he'd have flown that distance.  After his first jump:

me:        fantastic, Steve

he:         man, that was wild

me:        tell me about it

he:         I couldn't see a thing

me:        me either!  

Yes, it was that foggy.  A series of flagmen up the inrun beckoned the skiers.  From the coaching platform we saw the skiers approach the takeoff and then disappear into the fog in flight.  Film study later verified skiers were 15-18m high in flight, that is 50 to 60 feet.  Yikes.

I was summoned to the judges tower, to see a linen clad table with chocolates, fruit and crystal glasses full of champagne.  Milo Belonoznik, designer of the hill and chief of competition, toasted me and said "the hill works, the hill works!"  Steve had confirmed that for him.  So Milo's ticket to rank and privilege for ensuing years was punched by Steve Collins!

At the post competition press conference, Steve agreed to go if I'd also go and answer the questions for him.  Predictably, the first question was about Steve's V style ski position in flight.  This was March and we'd gotten that question for three months by now.  So I was prepared, saying "here we have judging the esteemed Olympic medalist, Harry Glass (DDR, Cortina 1956), so we should ask him.  From my perspective, Steve's flight is as safe as anyone's and apparently it is effective too, judging  by his distance."  Mr. Glass was a bit taken aback that I knew of him, and that I'd deferred to him.  And he concurred!

As we left the media center, Steve stuffed his pockets with Coca Cola bottles and chocolate bars to take for his teammates.  Those were luxuries in that society, but available to Steve in spades.  And keeping him amped on sugar for three days was one thing we had going for us, too.

Steve won the second day too, again in miserable ski conditions.  Needless to say he was 'in the zone.'  Horst was shorter with his jumps, a victim of his growth spurt and habitual late takeoff movement.  But he was consistently in the 150's m and very stable.  An old coaching axiom is you never take only one skier to a competition, so Horst was indeed a team player.

Day three was again foggy and rainy, with the rain occasionally changing to those big gooey snowflakes skiers hate.  Steve again cracked the longest jump in round one, and I'll never forget Baldur Preiml, the Austrian coach coming to me.  "Congratulations, Bill, the meet is over.  We just thought by day 3 someone would beat Steve, but we see that is not possible."

I radioed to Steve:

me:        congratulations, Steve, you won, the meet is over

he:          What?!

me:        you won, Steve,  the meet is over

he:         you mean we can't jump anymore?

What can you say about such youthful enthusiasm?

So that weekend our team lived the life of power, rank and privilege that both the FIS and a communist country can bestow.  On one level that was neat.  But it is too phony and pretentious, and growing up with American values of an egalitarian society and a meritocracy, it was uncomfortable.

I'll take our life any day.

Harrachov 1980-  Steve Collins (in his signature "delta" style) jumping 172M on 230 cm skis!

USASJ Story Project- Dec 30 STONE

Editor's note- Changing it up a bit today.  Larry and Molly Stone tell the same poignant story from different perspectives- that of coach/father and athlete/daughter.

Editor's note (2)- If you want to watch a great documentary on the history of women's ski jumping and especially their fight for Olympic recognition, go to http://www.readytoflyfilm.com/ and order your own copy of Ready to Fly.  Both Larry and Molly are in the film.  Great story, well told.

Larry and Molly Stone- father/daughter and coach/skier- in Salisbury, CT in 1998.

STORY No. 77
LARRY STONE

Age 68

Wilmington, NY

Salisbury (CT), Team East; coached SWSA , NYSEF, USST M & W (3X USSA Dom. Coach of the Year)

What goes around…

I’ve enjoyed reading these stories and hope it brings us a common sense of what ski jumping has meant to so many of us over the years. As I have been a witness to so many stories, I struggle to pick one. However, I remit one that struck close to home for me and made me appreciate viscerally what so many parents who have entrusted their young jumpers to me have gone through.

In the late 90’s, my Lake Placid program was the nucleus of US women’s ski jumping with a healthy group including Lindsey Van, Liz Szotyori, Marie Pierre Morin, Karla Keck and my daughter Molly. We were also joined by Veronica Myrha and Karla when they were in town and Janne Rand a few years later. In 1998 we all traveled to St. Moritz for the Junior World Championships and in ’99 to Ramsau for the World Championships for unofficial exhibition events. At the same time, there was a tour of events in the central European of towns of Baiersbron, Schonwald, Rastbuchl, and Saalfeld. This series of events became a yearly event with participants from many countries. Through these experiences, I became convinced that these girls deserved a chance to see what they could do in this sport.

This, however, is a prelude to my story. I was very glad that in the course of my work with both men and women, I actually had the opportunity to work with my daughter, Molly, on a regular basis. I had the pleasure of traveling with her to meets all over the US as well as to the newly emerging women’s circuit in Europe. In the course of our travels the women began skiing bigger hills like Westby and Steamboat. Lindsey Van had been skiing large hills since I took her to Stams in ’96, at the age of 11, and Karla Keck had jumped several large hills as well. Given this, the Lake Placid K-120 was a different animal. More impressive and intimidating because of its unique architecture and history, it loomed large as a hill that many of the women wanted to ski. In preparation for a competition in ‘99 both the Lake Placid hills were ready to go and I thought the time was right for a few of the women to get their chance at the K-120. Molly was skiing well and I knew she could technically handle it. I also knew she had a career goal of skiing the hill, so on a perfect afternoon when the hill was in beautiful shape I decided it was time. 

I had been involved as a coach in many skiers’ first jumps on big hills. As long as I had worked with and knew that the athlete, regardless of gender, was ready both technically and mentally, I would support it. The interaction between a coach and an athlete is a complex and subtle bond and in many cases it was important that the athlete could draw on the strength and confidence of their coach to help them. I had never had any problem with this and I felt I was sensitive to the parental fears that would be expressed on these kinds of occasions. As I sent Molly and her teammates up for their first jump on our big hill, I, of course, put on my game face and told them to be confident and just tend to business. There would be no problem. I had been around the sport for a long time and we all have seen some amazing things happen on ski jumping hills, not all of them pretty. I had experienced parents grabbing my arm and holding on to me for dear life as their child jumped their first bigger hill. I never had any qualms about it because I truly would not send someone up in hill size unless they were ready. Little was I prepared, however, for the feelings that coursed up in me as I saw Molly getting ready up on that tower and sliding out on the bar of our K-120. It was with a weird steely calmness combined with a sense of something very primal way in the back of my mind as I stood up in that K-120 crow’s nest coaches’ stand and looked down that hill checking the air while my little girl was putting her skis in the track. She was still my little Molly, but the hill was ready, the air was perfect, and it was time. I dropped my hand. She was in the track!

The pioneers of women's ski jumping competing in Europe in '99- left to right is Karla Keck, Veronica Myrha (STORY No. 69), Marie-Pierre Morin, Liz (Szotyori) Mezzeti, Lindsey Van, Molly Stone, Larry Stone.

STORY No. 78

MOLLY STONE

Age 31
Cambridge, MA

NYSEF, Park City, US Women’s Team

My side of the story...

The sport of ski jumping has always loomed large in my life, but my ski jumping career only spanned 8 years ranging from age 10 to age 18.  My father, Larry Stone, is deeply committed to the sport and has been since before I came into his life.  The sport has always been a daily part of our family’s life as my father has dedicated himself to coaching the sport.  By the time I hit age 10, I think my father had given up hope that I would take an interest in the ski jumping, but, for better or worse, one day I decided to give it a try.  My first jump was off of the K18 in Lake Placid. Soon after, our entire family relocated to Park City and I decided to become a real ski jumper.  Lucky for me and for many other jumpers, my father was my coach.   

My dad and I had many adventures together, travelling to ski jumps in North America together as well as beginning to tackle the issue of women’s ski jumping all over Europe.  I’m thankful that I was able to have such unique experiences with him.  I am also thankful that my father has always fought for us ladies in the sport.  He has truly helped women’s ski jumping advance to the place it is today.

I have many amazing memories from my time as a ski jumper, but the first day I jumped the K120 in Lake Placid was one of the best and most terrifying days of my life.  As many people who know me can attest, I was never the most courageous, daring ski jumper on the hill.  Jumping that hill was something I dreamed of and dreaded at the same time.  Growing up in the area, I had seen the hill a thousand times before I actually sat on the bar and put my skis in the tracks.  Having my father as my coach assured me of one thing: I would never be allowed to ski that hill until I was ready.  When the day finally came, I rode up that elevator with my skis in my hand watching the trees disappear below me.  I was terrified, but I knew I would not be in that elevator unless it was really the time because my dad was down below ready to flag me.  If he could give me the go ahead, then I knew I could do it.  As I waited in line up top, I watched the other skiers make their way onto the bar and head down the hill.  I put my skis on, got on that bar, dad’s hand went down, and I heard the familiar “hyup.” I stood up and did what I knew how to do.  It may not have been the longest or prettiest jump that hill has ever seen, but I will never forget it.  Now at age 31, whenever I drive into Lake Placid or up to the ski jumps, I have that memory tucked away inside and am so thankful for all the jumps I was able to take with my father as my coach.  

Father/coach Larry Stone gives daughter Molly a lift.

USASJ Story Project- Dec 29 SEVERSON

Kris Severson (R) now produces sports and music events live and for TV.  Shown here producing the jump venue in Vancouver 2010 with announcer Chris Hastings (L) (Story No 53). .  Kris, you may recall, was the subject of Story No. 17.

STORY No. 76
KRIS SEVERSON

Age 44

Park City, UT

Steamboat Springs Winter Sports Club

CHAMP SIGHTINGS

1987.  The arrangement was for Jeff Hastings (then jump coach of the NC team) to pick me up at the Burlington airport. From there we would ride up to Lake Placid beginning our three week tour of the New England Circuit. These were not premier events. They were no World Cup Events or even Continental Cups or Europa Cups. This was a consolation prize at best. A small domestic series of events for young athletes on the rise or old athletes fading into the sunsets of their careers. For me, the only brightening on my horizon was the possibility of a little debauchery. Take a few jumps, drink a few beers, and meet a few girls…

               

“Get in, warm up. I’ll take care of these.” Jeff said, always the gentleman.  I sank into the passenger seat of the Subaru, which was about the only means of support the ski team offered me now. I was a leftover. An afterthought. I had not performed well in Europe and was sent back to the States to “regain some confidence.” I was tired from the endless avenue of ground transportation, international flights, baggage claims and hotel rooms. The constant motion had left my head a buzz.  As we left I tipped my head back and thought of a place where all stood still. We traveled southward along the eastern shore of Lake Champlain, crossed the lake at Port Henry Bridge and entered upstate New York. While I faded in and out Jeff spoke of adventures on the road, skiing, his conquests and near misses. I occasionally pressed him for any information or coaching tips he could offer to help unravel the mystery that was ski jumping for me at that time.  But he was evasive as a rabbit in dressing-off day. 

Nighttime had fallen and the drizzling sleet of the day turned to a wispy snowfall. It was not enough to accumulate on the ground but the visibility had decreased and the snow began sticking to the windshield. We passed through the small lakeside towns with their white, wooden homes and slowly dying Main Streets. Each town had its own gas station/mini-mart/video rental/deli on its outskirts. They also had their own similar multifunctional snowmobile/junk yard/small engine repair shop.  I must have fallen asleep, for as the car came to a skidding stop, I was thrust out of my dreams and into the reality of the moment. 

“What?” I screamed. “Deer?”
“No, no. Nothing like that,” he said. “Something better.”

He climbed out of the car leaving the door open. Ahead, illuminated by our car’s headlamps was a hand painted wooden roadside sign that read:

Port Henry: Home of Champ

Champ Sightings

Listed below was a long row of names and dates of those who claimed to have seen the mythical Loch Ness-type monster believed to live in Lake Champlain. Jeff knelt before it like an altar boy in the falling snow. I got out of the car and joined him.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“I’ve driven by this thing for more than 20 years and always wanted to do this,” he said. In his hand was a jar of white paint and a small brush. He leaned forward and daintily finished his work. At the bottom of the list of names, in dripping handwritten letters, read:

J. Hastings 6-25-59

 “You’ve never seen Champ, have you?” I asked him.

 “No, but neither has anyone else on this list,” he said standing up and admiring his work. “Do you want to be immortalized?”

He handed me the paint, and I placed my name below his.

K. Severson 1-1-68

I eventually did regain my confidence and went on to ski a number of years on the World Cup team.  And a few years ago Jeff emailed me the photo below.  It's of the new sign in Port Henry!  The town just pulled the names and sighting dates from the old sign and Jeff and I are now "officially" on the list in the same paint and font as the rest!  We re-wrote history that night.  Literally.

Jeff pointing to names on the updated Port Henry Champ sighting list.

USASJ Story Project- Dec 28 PETRI

The leap heard 'round the US... Petri's 122m ride in the 1984 Olympic try-outs on the large hill in Lake Placid.

STORY No. 75

MATT PETRI
Age 54
Larkspur, CA
Deerfield Academy, St. Lawrence University, Lake Placid Ski Club, U.S. Ski Team & Olympic Team
 
I’d like to share a list of ski jumping memories and experiences instead of just one. Some are personal. Some will be common to many in the jumping community. Some will only be recognized or remembered by a few. Hopefully, they will elicit a smile, a laugh or prompt another memory as they do for me. 
 
First, let me try to answer Nancy North’s question about how we all got started, and what it was like, with a brief story of my own about my quixotic ski jumping career.
 
I started jumping at the age of 14 at Deerfield Academy when I didn’t qualify for the Alpine team. The funny thing is that I had chosen Deerfield instead of Holderness because they required Alpine skiers to try ski jumping, which I was not going to do.
 
Once I was talked into trying jumping, I was hooked. I jumped through high school and college at St. Lawrence University with varying degrees of success. My journey then took me to Lake Placid to live and train full time for three years to pursue a spot on the U.S. Ski Team and potentially an Olympic Team, which I knew was a long shot.
 
My dream of making the Olympic Team came down to the last day of the 1984 Olympic Trials on the large hill in Lake Placid after having only been named to the national team the week before. In the first round, the longest jump before me was 112 meters. I remember thinking that would be hard to beat, but I was going to go for it and that it either was going to turn out well or I’d crash. As it turned out, I jumped 122 meters, which was by far the longest jump of my life in competition. After that, all I focused on for my second jump was staying on my feet to secure a spot on the team.
 
I jumped for another four years before hanging them up for good at age 29. And while we jumpers may all have had different goals and levels of success, I know that many of us share that “I’m going to go for it” moment.
 
Now, here is my list of a few of the other memories that I will never forget. My favorites are the ones with which I associate specific individuals, which is what its really all about - teammates, competitors, coaches, officials, family, and friends.
 
Who or what do you think of when you read these?
 
The very 1st jump of your life
Packing a hill (or boot packing a hill)
Praying for snow
Getting too much snow on the hill
Waxing / scraping skis and burning lacquer onto skis for jumping on plastic
The smell of wax
Burning your finger tips on the waxing iron
The skis themselves - The Flying Finns (if I remember correctly), Kongsberg, Elan, Fischer, and Kneissl
Jumping with hands forward, then converting to hands back (I never had to make the switch to the V)
Jumping in low back boots and then making the switch to high backs
Jumping with no hat or helmet
Jumping on cold clear days
Jumping on windy days and getting held and then sent
Jumping on snowy days
Jumping in the rain
Jumping on crushed ice on the Lake Placid 40 meter on the 4th of July
Jumping under the lights during the day above the Artic circle
Jumping on plastic, frost rail and porcelain
Jumping on a 90 meter (k120) for the first time
Jumping hung over
How it feels to pull on a jump suit
Setting tracks
Pulling out of the start onto an icy track before there were start bars
Standing at the top of the Dartmouth ski jump looking out over the trees
Winter carnivals
Jumping in the last NCAA Championships in 1980
Watching a teammate do the agony of defeat ahead of you before your first jump
Seeing stars after pile driving into the landing hill headfirst, with or without a helmet (concussion, what concussion?)
Climbing rickety towers where you were more scared going up than coming down
The crowds at competitions in Central
Banquets
Dry land training
Wind tunnel testing
Watching video
Realizing video isn't going to help you right now
Falling, crashing, falling on plastic and getting burned
Cross country road trips
Cross country road trips in the U.S. Ski Team van
Skis flying off the roof of the van
The van breaking down
Iowa gas station owners who say: “come back and my daughter will show you all a good time”
Burning a giant hole in the front seat of someone else’s car
Weather so cold in Lake Placid that you had to walk the tower of the large hill
Weather so cold in Thunder Bay that coffee thrown in the air vaporized before hitting the ground
The curve in the track of the large hill in Lake Placid that didn’t exist
Watching an ambulance head to Mt. Hoevenberg from the top of the jumps in Lake Placid while thinking, of course, that bobsledders and lugers were the crazy ones
1st Nationals
1st European trip
1st Europa cup
1st World Cup
Walking into the Olympic stadium and visiting the White House
Traveling with all of the gear, especially overseas with more than one pair of skis
Border crossings to jump behind the Iron Curtain
Walking up jumps in summer behind Europeans who had not showered for days
Swedish girls at the pool in Falun
Getting pulled over for running a red light in Yugoslavia and paying the fine in cash
Crazy Subaru activities like passing on corners after the car ahead gives the okay on the walkie-talkie
Taking a picture of the "cool" helicopter that would later take me to the hospital
Roommates bringing a girl back to the room and not being “quiet”
Roommates who don’t appreciate snoring (the same as above)
Smelling the “effects” of your teammate not adjusting well to European food
For entertainment, someone lighting the "effects"
Putting a duck, a rabbit, and a fish in the coaches’ room (not all at the same time)
Landing on the knoll
Coming over the knoll knowing you were going to the bottom of the hill
Getting told you’ve made the “team”, whatever it was
Coaches - For me there were many over the years that informally or formally coached me or helped me along the way, including especially Don Burdick, John Manson, Rex Bell, Greg Windsperger, and Erling Rimeslaatten to whom I will be forever grateful.
And finally, dreams - Having talked to a few jumpers about it over the years, I believe that one of the other unique things that we have in common is dreams of jumping even long after we’ve retired. My most recent one was last week. I hope they will continue…

Matt Petri (R) with wife Nell and kids Chase and Molly.

USASJ Story Project- Dec 27 WEAVER

Roy Weaver and his latest ride.

STORY No. 73

ROY WEAVER

Age 57

Colorado Springs, CO

Navarino, WI; UNH; USST

The greatest story for me is knowing all these skiers and coaches during my eight short years of living and breathing the sport of ski jumping.  From my first jump at Navarino Wisconsin in 1968, to my first training camp at Iola, to the Kiwanis Ski Club of Iron Mountain with the agony and glory of Pine Mountain,  to UNH and the 1976 US Ski Team. I competed in the central Division and the Eastern Division so I was blessed with knowing so many skiers that might not have traveled  to different parts of the country. It was challenging, frustrating, and incredibly rewarding.  We all lived in each other’s glory and felt each other's pain.  I followed many of these guys up and down so many hills.  I listened to their advice and hopefully shared in the richness of their experience.  I hope the sport endures for many years so we can all continue to live vicariously through those that represent our dreams today.  

On behalf of my father Ralph who loved the sport so dearly and my beloved daughter who only got to hear all my stories about these great people.  I wish she could have met all of them. They all represent the highest standard in their commitment to the sport and each other. 

USASJ Story Project- Dec 27 ZINCK

The Chisolm Junior Ski Team (Rumford, ME) in the 60's.  

STORY No. 73

BOB ZINCK

Age 55

Groton, MA

Chisholm Ski Club, Dartmouth Outing Club, U.S. Ski Team [cup of coffee]

 .  

I have so many memories it’s tough to pick one.  So I’ll send two.

As high school seniors in 1975 some Chisholm Ski Club guys from Rumford, ME were in Mont Ste. Anne, Quebec, in March with some of the world’s best also there.  It was a 50m jump, good for us, fluff for the big boys.  After the weekend we decided to beg, borrow, or steal our way to Thunder Bay, ONT for the next weekend’s tournament on the new 70m and 90m hills.  Once out there the extreme cold prevented early morning skiing.  One morning, sitting around the hotel, Gerry Austin, our coach, found the biggest star on the FIS circuit, Walter Steiner, in the lobby.  He had entertained Walter with his stories and they became friendly.  He “encouraged” Walter to accompany him to a hotel room of bored Eastern guys, myself, Steve Mickeriz, Michel Voboril, Bernie Wells, et al.  Gerry knocked and was told to buzz off.  Second and third attempts to enter were met with derision and mockery.  Finally, after saying he had the World’s Champeen and he wanted to talk some jumping we opened the door and stared up at all 6’5” of the man.  Walter graciously ran a clinic, answered questions, and laughed with us for an hour.  An unexpected bonus and a lasting memory.   It is hard to believe his legend could grow any more, but it surely did after that.

The second also involves Gerry Austin.  It was late season following the Berlin, NH meet.  The in-run tower didn’t hold snow the week after the meet, so we decided to build a jump on the knuckle of the knoll and get some air for those of us who hadn’t jumped anything bigger than a 50m.  Gerry planned to drive from Rumford to Berlin with as many flyers as could fit in his GTO.  We put 5 or 6 pairs of jumping skis on the rack, and fastened a piece of 4x8’ plywood underneath to use for a take-off platform.  About 3 miles west of Rumford, ME, at 50 mph, the air tore off the ski rack.  We heard a loud crash and looked back on Rte. 2 to see skis and plywood flying through the air before crashing down on the highway.  At least two of the pairs were new end-of-season acquisitions and were now splintered beyond recognition.  That ended our trip for that day, but gave us all a good laugh [some of us took years to laugh].  Our parents were not pleased with the extra cost of replacing skis, but all ended well.   Just another day in a sport and “family” which has influenced and inspired me for life.  

USASJ Story Project- Dec 26 MYLANDER

Jim Mylander (far right) with daughter Emily and friends Doug Maki (L) and his daughter Alana Maki-Foust (Story No. 36, Nov 27) at last year's National Masters Championship in St. Paul, MN.

STORY No. 72
JIM MYLANDER
Age 52
Bloomington, MN
St. Paul Ski Club


Hello, Jim "The Flying Swede" Mylander here with my own ski jumping tale. I have been a member of the St. Paul Ski Club since 1983, when I started jumping again after a 6 yr  layoff. I grew up in Cloquet Mn under the great coaching of Joe Nowak. I want to thank him for my early years and all of my ski jumping family for the support through out the last 30+ yrs. 

My story starts out at the SPSC on Harrington Hill in the mid 80's. This was in the days of human track setters! And side kick outs. So it was icy and there was barely a track on the inrun of the 46 meter hill. I kicked out from the right gate and all the sudden, my left ski Came out of the track! I was praying, please God get my ski back in the track so I wouldn't face plant on the inrun! I did manage to get it back on track and survive that ride. 

I will always be grateful for all of my ski jumping family and all the great friends! Have a great ski season and everyone keep your tips up.

USASJ Story Project- Dec 26 DENISSON

Editor's note- In trying to entice a story out of Timo I sent this photo that was labeled as being taken on the Battle Creek hill in MN.  It worked!  His response was a great story that follows...

Timo Denisson flying Pine Mt. in the first one-piece jump suit worn in the US (covered by a sweater!).

STORY No. 71

TIMO DENISSON

Age- less

Cheyenne, WY

St. Paul Ski Club, U of WYO, USST

The picture was not taken at famed Battle Creek, but rather taken by legendary Iron Mountain journalist Dick Ferris who inherited his skills from his father, Joe.  It was taken off the K120 at Pine Mountain. I think that was the year that Jerry Martin and I walked 12 straight, went back to the Dickinson Hotel, showered and then crossed the street to Willi Erickson's Cafe for a malt while playing a dozen songs for a quarter. Glorious day and great tunes. A couple bucks bought alot of memories then.

Of interest to some, however, is that the photo happened to capture a small piece of trivia in US jump lore, in that I was skiing in the first one-piece "jump suit" of the American era...although I actually skied that day with it worn UNDER the 1970 Odlo Team sweater...and therefore not recognizable as a "one-piece jump suit."  Duluthian great Greg Swor would later go to JPN and receive a jump suit there to evidence our first flights internationally in a "jump suit" a year ahead of Sapporo Olympics.

The unlikely roots of this suit spawning "jump" history was actually all luck...in the right place at the right time-kind of deal when my brother, Corky, and Frank Thompson and I made a traditional visit to our favorite ski shop in Eau Claire, after a day's training and a week before the Pine Mountain Meet.  I think it was also the first year of the Silver Mine Tournament when I set the hill record in that suit (until Bill Bakke broke it later in the round).

Before the jump I recall reluctantly showing Dave Hicks the suit by lifting my sweater to prove it existed in one-piece. Dave was a good sport, chuckled and said something like..."Let's go up and see how it works!"  I loved his laugh.  Genuine.  Ernie!

But it was nearing March and my Bogners were turning fast into knickers the more I grew that season.  So with all of 15 bucks in my pocket, I moved quickly through the shop...and strangely...found this odd, lonely $70 White Stag suit hiding on a rack....in my size!  And, ON SALE, half-off! (it really didn't have ... any ... sleeves). That made me unsteady...having only 15 bucks was alot of money then, for a young college kid who had no clue how to shop serious.

  

I guess I have to thank Frankie (the 3 of us in 1955, comprised the ENTIRE St. Paul JUNIOR Ski Club) for his moral support. His typical, no nonsense kind of response was:

"Buy it and quit fussing. Your brother's a bricklayer. Got alot of dough!"  

I have the White Stag, still, should anyone care for a nostalgic ride in a bit of US Jump history...even though the fit might be a small issue.  Oh yeah, thanks Cork! I-O-U alot!!

USASJ Story Project- Dec 25 SANDERS

Bryan showing the power of pink.

STORY No. 70

BRYAN SANDERS

Age 42

St Paul Ski Club

Stillwater, MN

I have the above picture from the cover of the 1992 Blue Cross Blue Shield of Minnesota Annual Report in my office at the University of Minnesota.  BCBCMN was my headgear sponsor from 1990-92 and fortunately for me, gambled on my erratic takeoff with the hopes that I would make the 1992 Olympic Team, as their Minnesota Olympic Adopted Athlete.  Anyway, that sponsorship truly helped me focus on ski jumping and I had very limited financial resources for training.  I keep that picture in my office at work to remind me of what other people did for me. I think of people like Ed Brisson, who once secretly paid for me to go to Europe with the team, so I wouldn't be at a disadvantage. All those trips to Europe, with no more than a hundred bucks in my pocket.  Someone raised money to support my being there - amazing really! The other day, a student saw the picture and asked, "Hey, were you jumping for breast cancer awareness?"  Hah! Well, even though I was using pink bindings, a pink USA jump suit, and a schweet (word from the time) pink stripe on my helmet with pink Uvex goggles,  I had to say, “Actually, no, I never got to jump for breast cancer awareness.” “Oh, yeah?” the student said. “I never knew there actually was a time before that. And, look at the old ski gear!" 

So, with the realization that I am now apparently very old and yet still feeling like a kid right out of the eighties—who seemingly wore pink the first time it was cool--I concluded that it’s likely no one can believe it was, in fact, ski jumping that jump started the whole Suzanne G. Komen movement.  As the story goes, it's been said that the now infamous pink event color was actually inspired from a cool bunch of U.S. ski jumpers at the 1990 HolmenKomen in Oslo, Norway.

On a more serious note, ski jumpers like challenges. And we at USA Ski Jumping are being challenged to move our sport forward on our own, USASJ. This is an incredibly exciting time for ski jumping in the United States. The USA Women's Ski Jumping Team will, in all likelihood, bring the best women's team to the Sochi Games, and development, support and organization for the men's team is  athletes both men and women, are well positioned to inspire future jumpers.  Through help from MikeHolland, USASJ aims to capitalize on the special attention ski jumping will attract with the wonderful inclusion of Women's Jumping in the Winter Olympics. Mike has developed a portable roller jump with a goal to get one to every ski jumping club in the country to more aggressively recruit young girls and boys to our sport.  To date, nearly seven hundred Vermont elementary students have tried the roller jump in their physical education classes.  Beyond junior development,  USASJ has developed a collaborative partnership with Copper Peak, Inc. (soon to be announced)  We are working on a winter meet again for Copper Peak in the coming years and bringing jumping back to Ironwood, Michigan, and hopefully soon, a Women's world distance record too?  Anything's possible for a bunch of fearless ski jumpers that work together.

Additionally jumping at the Peak, will help secure Iron Mountain's international competition date with jumpers coming to the U.S. for multiple meets and a unique jump experience in Ironwood with a 175HS. Ski jumping in America is run completely on fund-raised dollars. To be honest—and at the risk of being too blunt: if you ever jumped and have never given back in one way or another, please strongly consider a gift and a call to a board member to hear what we are working on.  We're just your old ski jumping buddies, volunteering our time to preserve the sport in America, and we're doing really great stuff! 

Shinola! Milkman 

USASJ Story Project- Dec 25 MYHRA/JACOBSON

Veronica Myhra (St Paul Ski Club) and Ty Jacobson (Ishpeming Ski Club) met through ski jumping.
Their kids are 4th generation jumpers!

STORY No. 69  
VERONICA (MYHRA) JACOBSON

Age 28

Stillwater,MN

St. Paul Ski Club

My grandpa and dad both ski jumped and after carrying my brother, Anthony’s skis for a season or two, I decided to try it. I was hooked. Like many others, ski jumping became a year round sport for me, traveling across the country with the Central division. There are many highlights of my ski jumping career including traveling to Europe twice with the U.S. Women’s ski jumping team, but my most treasured moment came in meeting Ty Jacobson, another junior jumper who hailed from Ishpeming, Michigan. We both competed on a national level throughout our high school years. When Ty graduated in 2001, he moved to the Twin Cities to pursue his career in law enforcement. Ty and I were married in February of 2004 and almost nine years later we have six beautiful children and are awaiting the arrival of our seventh in April. Needless to say our involvement in the sport today comes in a different capacity. This winter we will have five of our kids jumping the little hills at the St. Paul Ski Club. Ty will be coaching and I will be back where I started, carrying skis up the hill. As far as we know, we are the only two ski jumpers who have competed on a national and international level that have ended up getting married.  Never did we imagine how enriched our lives would be by the sport of ski jumping.  

Veronica (R, no 10)back in the day... with Taylor Lyons (L, no 8) and Alana Maki
(center- from STORY No. 26, November 27) who is also now married and expecting.

USASJ Story Project- Dec 24 LAMB

Chris Lamb in flight.

STORY No. 68

CHRIS LAMB

Age 23

Andover, NH

Andover Outing Club

The winter we spent living in Bad-Mitterndorf Austria consisted of some of my fondest memories as a ski jumper so far. We all have some funny stories from that winter, and frequently reminisce about the good times we shared. We were blessed with a character of a coach who was well known in the town, which allowed us to become pretty familiar with some of the locals. Ernie (our coach) would drive us around town to all the “hot spots” so we could mingle with his friends. We got out to some pretty interesting places, and met some very entertaining folks.

Lamb & coach Ernie with colorful Bad Mitterndorf local.

Some of us spent more time living in that apartment than others, and I am pretty sure I was ranked among the top two for hours spent in Bad-Mitterndorf. If you spent any time in Bad-Mitterndorf you were bound to have at least one awkward or funny experience. Blake Hughes, Anders Johnson, Nick Alexander, and I had the pleasure of spending the Christmas holiday at our apartment. It was our first Christmas away from home, and we were all pretty excited about bringing on the Christmas spirit that year. A few days before Christmas, Anders, Blake and I were sitting around watching some Christmas movies, and maybe having a few beers, when we decided we needed to get a tree for our apartment. We did not want to buy a tree, so we decided we could find our Christmas tree somewhere in the woods behind our place. We grabbed a steak knife from the kitchen, and headed into the night. It took us a while to find our tree, but when we did I believe Anders was the saw master. I will never forget the three of us out there on our hunt for the Christmas tree. Laughing hysterically as Anders hacked down that spruce tree with a dull steak knife. It was a priceless moment, and one I am proud to have been a part of. We set up an impressive Christmas tree, and took some of our decorations from another tree set up in the hall of the apartment building. We all got each other some kind of funny gift, and made a good effort to have a proper Christmas.

Lamb's Bad Mitterndorf Christmas tree.

Another special moment came later on in the season when Anders, Nick Fairall, and I took our first ski flying jumps in our “back yard” The world cup ski flying event took place just five minutes down the road. Because we had to drive at least 45 minutes for any kind of jumping that season, the day we got to jump the hill sitting right outside the door was very cool. I was a trial jumper, and set my personal best distance at 191 meters. I got to watch Nick and Anders compete in the world cup, and root on my childhood buddy as he scored his first World Cup points in two impressive competitions.