I grew up on Long Island, but people still expected me to know how to ski ! That problem was solved when my cousin, Heidi, came to visit us and then immigrated. She picked my two brothers’ and my first pair of skis at a ski shop in Great Neck, and took us Upstate and to Vermont on weekends. From her we learned about the snow plow turn, and then the christie.
It was a whole new world, the lifts, the home town cafeterias, the bed-and-breakfasts where we stayed. The ski instructors were mostly immigrants, too. I didn’t get hurt ‘til we went skiing when I was in my sixties.
I have fond memories of those days, and what a great country God has given us. Heidi went out West, married a veteran, and raised a family of three children.