It was a skating rehearsal at a rink on the outskirts of our town.. A skating club for anyone who could lace up skates, stand up or was a wanna be Peggy Fleming. I was 6 years old and every morning I would walk alone under the dark not yet morning prairie sky to step into the place that was really my home - the ice rink ... Every day I would skip supper in favor of my tights, gloves and my Wilson blades. Crowds? Sure they were there, mostly Mothers, friends, fellow hockey companions waiting for ice time, they would line up behind the appropriate glass or sit on wooden benches.. My fellow skaters looked just like me , hungry for one more jump that completed with full rotation, one more spin that didn’t make you throw up after eating those “these aren’t moms’ fries” and the teenage desire for Mr. Perfect to be waiting to walk you home through the -40 + winter crystal clear night. At any given time we all had dreams of being overlooked by the Ice Capades…boy!…what could have been.
Talent wise I was pretty “Shirley average”, strong on desire, short on power for lift off in jumps. With a jumping average of not always completing full rotations I was no threat to the opposing skaters that fought hard for fully rotated landing rights. This would be like other winters get ready for the show rehearsal nights for me … or was it?
During warm up I remember a strange feeling coming over me … unexplainable in words a euphoria like I had never felt before. Everything around me seemed so clear. It was like I was listening to every conversation but could hear nothing. From that moment on I felt as though I knew what was about to happen…
next ... “CURTAIN CALL”
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